7.5 miles walked today
813 miles walked in total (10.84 average)
After a full English breakfast and some emergency first aid on my right foot, I left the hotel at 9.10 am. My boots are really the most contrary pair I've ever owned - every time I've worn them so far, my left heel has been shredded to bits, but the right foot hasn't had a mark on it. However, after the longest mileage I've done in them so far yesterday, the left foot is totally unscathed but the right foot has lost about three layers of skin.
I reached Mudeford Quay at 9.30 am to find that the ferry doesn't cross the Avon Run until 10.00 am. However, the ferryman called "do you want to go over?" so I jumped up from the bench I'd chosen to watch the harbour from and clambered aboard. He was taking some anglers out to their fishing boat so I cadged a lift with them.
I had a quick climb (115 feet) up to Hengistbury Head where I needed a breather and to admire the view. It's just amazing. You can see the whole of Christchurch Harbour and as far as Durlston Head at Swanage. Totally breathtaking. This is really what walking is all about - not the endless prom and pavement walking. Fantastic.
As I came down into Southbourne, I could see a lot of policemen in hi vis coats and a flashing police motorbike, guiding runners along the road - the Bournemouth Bay half marathon. I battled my way along the prom against this oncoming tide of runners, but had lots of mini sit downs. It's been quite overcast and blustery and hard work walking into the wind. Desperate for a hot drink and some shelter, I sat on the pier for a while and watched the surfers and swimmers in the sea.
After a hot chocolate, I tried to make further progress, but the wind was seriously buffeting me. Added to this, I felt that either my old boots had shrunk or my feet had grown another half size overnight, so I gave up at the pier and went in search of a bus back to the car.
Walking back through the park, I was reminded of when Mum and Dad came to visit us in Wickham last year and we had a day in Bournemouth. Dad took great delight in telling Andy the "Bournemouth hair story". I was only about three and Amanda must have been eighteen months old. I had dead straight ginger hair and Amanda had curly blonde ringlets - baggage. An old lady stopped Mum and Dad to tell them that their daughter had "such beautiful hair". Obviously, real psychological damage had been done to me by that age as I stood my ground, hand on hips, and pointed out to the old dear that "I've got hair too".
As I was heading off to the bus stop, Sam rang me to say that Paul had given her a pass for next weekend so she's walking with me along the start of the South West Coast Path, a six hundred and thirty mile footpath from Poole to Minehead - hurrah! (Obviously, we won't be doing it all in one weekend!)
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