Weymouth walk: An early rise gives me chance to work up an appetite with a morning stroll around Weymouth - I love exploring the place when it's that bit quieter and you can get a truer sense of it's character. The harbour looks enchanting and comes complete with those evocative scents of the sea, then I weave around the backstreets picking out landmark pubs like the Globe, the Duke of Cornwall and the White Hart. At 8:30 I return to the Fairhaven for breakfast with the boys, during which Rog regales us with more tales of Hilda and coughing is thankfully kept to a minimum.
- Weymouth Harbour -X53: Stomachs lined we join the queue for the 10:05 bus to Poole, a popular service where all of the seats were soon taken. The ride provides a steady jaunt through Preston (The Spice Ship), Wool and Wareham before entering Poole via Lytchett Minster (St Peter's Finger) and Upton as Woody and Rog debate the merits of a BlackBerry-based fracas.
Poole: The bus pulls into Poole Bus Station and I'm quickly reminded of why the interchange made such a poor impression on me last year. It really is a depressing hole slapped on the side of the Dolphin shopping centre and looking every bit as dark and dated as I remembered. It's a busy place too, both in terms of vehicles and passenger footfall, so it all felt very claustrophobic and I was glad we weren't staying for long.
M1: A change of operator now as we take the Wilts & Dorset 'More' branded route through to Bournemouth, our First Day Explorers bought on the X53 still being valid and proving excellent value. The bus looked very smart and provided a comfortable ride through Parkstone and Westbourne as the growing proliferation of Yellow Buses are a sure sign we're nearing our destination.
- Buses at Bournemouth -Bournemouth: We alight at Gervis Place hoping for a good photo session but a sharp shower sends us scampering for the cover of the Moon in the Square Wetherspoons where it seems plenty of other people had had the same idea. Before long you couldn't see the bar so we decided to get lunch elsewhere with a nearby Burger King fitting the bill. At least the rain has cleared now so we can get a series of photos in before the Purbeck Breezer open-topper arrives to take us to the station interchange.
Bournemouth Station: Another somewhat dated bus location but the place is growing on me despite the grim ultra-violet toilets and the ugly brown row of shelters. There are plenty of National Express coaches around keeping their eye on Mr Wood whilst I pounce for some further Yellow Bus shots, the 5b to Kinson particularly springs to mind.
50: Back onto the open-topper and there's no better place to be on a summer's day, cruising through to Swanage with the wind in your hair and a Mary-related song in your heart. Sitting at the back of the top deck we can enjoy the views up through Westbourne and Canford Cliffs (where I spotted the local branch library), then a wait for the ferry at Sandbanks gives us chance to alight for some precious photos (or in Rog's case a precious fag break). Saying that, Rog does get a photo of our friendly lady driver as we hop back on board and we enjoy watching Mr Wood's usually-rigid hair battling to retain it's shape and failing dismally.
- A Hairy Situation for Mr Wood -Swanage: The route terminates outside the heritage railway station (a nice spot in itself for some photos) and we wander down into the town for a mooch around. The White Swan pub catches our collective eye so we head inside for a Piddle collision, embibing of another local Dorset brew.
- Having a Piddle in Swanage -40: On with the buses and another Purbeck Breezer albeit not open top so Mr Wood's hair is spared further carnage. It's a scenic run through to Wareham with a hearty dose of D9 driving through Corfe Castle, then we decide to stay on all the way through to Poole via Organford and its old post office.
Poole: not wishing to spend a second longer at the bus station than necessary we quickly head through the Dolphin arcades to find the Lord Wimborne Wetherspoons. Mr Wood's brother Craig has arranged to meet us and we enjoy a couple of pints in his company whilst avoiding a genuine fracas at the bar.
X53: back to Weymouth with the customary D9 reversing out of Poole, 'Dave' is proving to be a busy chap this holiday. Lytchett Minster, Wareham and Wool are all encountered again but the journey is mainly notable for Rog's growing bladder torment - he must've spent at least half an hour in serious discomfort and could barely walk when we finally arrived back at the Kings Statue, a sight that me and Woody obviously thought was hilarious.
Weymouth evening: Roger just about made it to the gents and emerges much relieved indeed. A freshening-up session at the Fairhaven is followed by tea at the William Henry, then the night is ours to sample more of Weymouth's pub culture. This time we head to the far side of the harbour to find favourites old and new...
- A relieved Rog re-emerges -Chapelhay Tavern: perched at the top of some steps leading up from the old High Street, the Chapelhay Tavern is a cracking little pub with a distinct nautical flavour. The walls are adorned with shipping memorabilia and a radio on the bar crackles with news from the coastguard as some salty regulars listen intently. The whole experience really captured my imagination and provided a memorable glimpse of a truly authentic seaside local.
The Boot: a favourite discovery from last year which more than lived up to expectations. A half of Jennings' Tizzie Wizzie (named after a mythical beast from the Lake District) slips down very nicely as Roger gets out his netbook, the pub's free wi-fi enabling me to track down a song called 'Midnight Mary' especially for the Chancer.
The Globe: with Mr Wood retiring for the evening, Rog and I seek out one final inn and are rewarded with another gem. Tucked away in a backstreet on the town side of the harbour, the Globe was a cracking find with the warmest of welcomes. A friendly landlord, a free jukebox and some excellent beer (top notch Dartmoor Jail Ale) are all to be commended and it was a wrench to leave even though it was gone midnight. We make our way back to the Fairhaven and keep fingers crossed that rally day will be just as special...
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