Dorset, not Dover
For some reason, in the past, I have confused the names of Devon, Dorset and Dover.
‘But how?’ You may ask.
Well, all three start with the letter ‘D’.
‘But one is a county in the South West, another in the South very West, and the third is a port town in the South East?’ You may persist.
Well, they all have a coastline.
OK fine, I have no idea. My brain is odd like that. It’s the same brain that, when asked by a friend what the EuroTunnel actually is, after I’d physically been on the EuroTunnel, went blank. Wikipedia is probably my most visited site.
But moving swiftly on… I’ve recently returned from Dorset and now, with a good visual of this county firmly imprinted in my mind for at least one month, I hope to no longer confuse it with any other destination.
The first bank holiday weekend of May, I joined five other friends for three nights in a lovely cottage in Beaminster. Over that time, we covered a good amount of ground and also had the chance to enjoy the peace and beauty; to relax and soak up the almost continuous sun rays. We went for beautiful walks along the Jurassic Coast overlooking Chesil Beach, sunk our feet into pebbles next to the seaside, visited quaint villages such as Abbotsbury and Lyme Regis and hunted for fossils. Food, being a vitally important part of any trip, consisted mostly of delicious, fresh seafood and home-cooked meals balanced with plenty of ice cream and fudge.
Returning with a vague sunburn, as per usual, but feeling refreshed, I’m thankful that I’ve had the privilege to discover another beautiful part of the UK with wonderful company and I’m now fairly certain (though of course you can never be sure) that I will no longer mix Dorset up with any other ‘D’s, be it Denver, Dover or Dorking.