The Road to Weymouth

Having missed out on a raucous Saturday night in Sidmouth, we were soon struggling up some more steep climbs up and over to Seaton, up and over to Lyme Regis, and on to West Bay Bridport.  Some picture postcard views on the way but my abiding memory was disappointment over how the beautifully quaint Lyme Regis had picked up the lowest common denominators of a typical British coastal town.  Fish & chips, candy floss and bog-standard ice cream.  We had a bite in West Bay, met some colleagues of Mark’s, and picked up some tips of where to eat in Weymouth.   Some element of nepotism might have been involved there.

In the afternoon it was on to Abbotsbury, Chesil Beach and finally Weymouth, where most of us took a dip in the bracing waters.  Den took a pass, but Tim did more than his share of swimming, and we headed to the Dorset Burger Bar for well-earned and much appreciated sustenance, before a debacle over real ale ensued.  Tim was insistent that he wasn’t drinking any of the usual west country rubbish and we spent a large part of the evening looking for a suitable venue, before giving up and stopping in the pub over the road from our hotel.  There the only pint on offer was Tim’s dreaded Doom Bar.  It was a rather sad end to a very full and agreeable day, especially for Tim who ended up leaving half his beer.

Lymington