Day 22 Part 2 - Lost in the suburbs

(Continued from Part One)

I approached Christchurch skirting Muddeford and Stanpit. As I'd only paused for a few minutes at lunchtime, I thought I deserved a sit down and thought that a nice dry pub would be welcome. I chose the "Ship in Distress" at Stanpit.

It was a pain to get out of the waterproofs but worth it, I thought, for a comfortable breather and a swift half. Nothing at the Ship in Distress was very swift that afternoon, however.

A woman appeared behind the bar and then disappeared as quickly. She re-emerged ten minutes later and said that I'd have to wait as she was doing a bill for a table in the restaurant and was short staffed. I waited another ten minutes.

By now I'd concluded that the pub wasn't interested, nor deserving of my custom, so I hauled on the gear again and left.

In the centre of Christchurch I found the Olde George Inn, and sat with a half-pint of "Dorset Piddle". The pub had some charm but the atmosphere was spoiled by the landlady's tuneless singing in accompaniment to the jukebox, including Chris Rea's, "This is the road to hell." Quite.

I'd have liked longer to explore the Priory and museums but time was pressing and the weather showed no sign of improvement. So I muddled my way through the backstreets and out into Southbourne, West Southbourne, Pokesdown and Kings Park.

Dodging under the pedestrian subway I emerged into the splendid Queen's Park. Once again I had to get the compass out to make sure I was going to emerge on the north side.

I reached Jenny and Chas at 5.40pm, just about as predicted. It was great to see them. We've known each other for almost twenty-five years and it's easy to pick up where we left off, each time we meent.

It was also really good to be in a house I recognised. It made me realise that for over three weeks I've had nothing familiar around me, save for the gear that I've carried.

Good to be somewhere familiar, good to be with friends.