Off the beaten track - Sandsfoot Castle

Just a mile or so from the Gor Blimey that is Weymouth is an enchanted spot that remains forever peaceful. 
Sandsfoot Castle and Gardens is the preserve of the locals and has wide and airy views over the waters of Portland Harbour to Portland itself.

The castle ruins, though artily perched on a low cliff next to the water's edge, can't by any stretch of the imagination be called picturesque, though the setting makes up for this.
It is one of two fortifications built by well known fatty Henry VIII in 1547 on either side of Portland Harbour in response to the threat from Catholic Spain. It was constructed with stone taken from the newly dissolved abbeys at a cost of going on £4,000.00 (around 1.5 million today)...it never actually saw action (don't tell the kids) and by the end of the 17c it was already a ruin, its stone robbed in turn to build Weymouth Bridge. By 1930 was closed to the public.

Recently the Heritage Lottery stepped in to help restore it so that once more it is possible to wander amongst the remaining stone work and peer though gun ports checking out the Spaniards as the defenders once did.

The gardens, landscaped Torquay municipal style, are a pleasant place to sit and, guess what?...the last part in the heavenly jigsaw... lattes are on hand in the ubiquitous tearoom.

A short wander downhill brings you to a humble little beach,

 again the preserve of a few locals and the odd dog walker or kayaker.

Those pesky Spaniards shall not pass...

Food with views - The Jailhouse Cafe

Ok, admit it!...I've done stretch in prison...about and hour and a half all told, including remission for a good appetite.

A winding switchback road climbs higher and higher up the side of the Isle of Portland until finally the forbidding stone gates of the Verne prison rise up in front of you.

Passing through the grim stone portal you emerge onto a plateau at the Island's very highest point; here is journey's end. The Jailhouse Cafe is an enlightened venture which gives risk-assessed prison inmates a feel for worthwhile work in the community.

Though the cafe is no gourmet experience the food is adequate and staff are helpful to a T. Each and every one seems built like a brick s**t house, pumped up to bursting, presumably as a result of long hours heaving weights in the prison gym.

On a fine day the views from the lawn are breathtaking, stretching all the way to the Purbecks shimmering in the blue distance, while below massive granite breakwaters girdle Portland harbour; another communal convict effort but of an earlier age.
What on earth would those Victorians lags breaking the granite for the breakwaters far below have thought of their present day heirs mincing around balancing a cappuccino in each paw?...

The Verne was originally built as a citadel to protect Portland Harbour

Click here for info about The Jailhouse

Portland lighthouse

At the Bill, Portland's furthest tip, strong currents meet causing the waters to angrily boil and froth like the contents of a devil's cauldron. 
It is surprising to find, then, that the first pair of lighthouses only appeared in 1716.

These were replaced in 1789 with a lighthouse running on new-fangled oil lamps and later equipped with two cannons to warn off any invasion by old Boney. A further pair erected in 1869 were superseded by the present lighthouse in 1906.  
Today's lighthouse is every child's dream of a lighthouse. On a clear day its clean lines dramatically outlined against an azure summer sky are unforgettable.

No whiskery lighthouse keeper is in attendance though, as the lighthouse finally became automatic in 1996.

Two of its precursors can also be seen, one of them, the Old Higher Lighthouse, owned from 1923 to 1958 by birth control pioneer, Mary Stopes, even has cottages to rent (click here).

Dorset Museums - Portland Museum

In the 1840s Portland saw the arrival of a bunch of rather reluctant visitors.

The building of the Portland breakwater, one of the largest civil projects of the period, needed manpower; so who better to provide it than Queen Victoria's prison population?

They gave new meaning to jailhouse rock as they sweated and manoeuvred thousands of tons of rocks into place. The jailbirds even became something of a tourist attraction, with wily Portlanders renting out rooms overlooking the prison quarries to London sightseers who quaffed tea and munched cakes while watching the hapless inmates. 

By the 1860s the prison population had risen to 1,800 and the prison regime had become noted for its brutality. Deaths averaged one a week. 

This grim situation was somewhat alleviated by the surprise arrival of Edward VII in1902 who promptly ordered the distribution of half a pound of roly poly and two ounces of golden syrup to each and every inmate.

In 1921 the prison was replaced by a borstal, and now houses young offenders. 

The two objects pictured can be found in Portland Museum and date from the prison's early years. The delicate ivory object was lovingly carved by a sentimental old lag, probably for sale to the public; while the chains...well they can be summed up with a sentence...

Dorset Churches - St Georges, Portland

Imagine a Wren church lifted bodily from its foundations and placed atop the bleak and windswept heights of Portland. This is the Church of St George.

The incongruity is increased by the fact that it is perched on the very edge of a deep quarry.

The church was erected  between 1754 and 1766 by a local architect and replaced the original church, the remains of which can still be found above the appropriately named, Church Ope Cove.

Killed by lightening

Aside from its windswept beauty, St George's also possesses  an unusually complete graveyard of about 2500 graves containing a number of fascinating and elaborate gravestones.

Shot by the Pressgang

After 150 years St George’s closed for worship in 1914 but was saved from dereliction by a group of volunteers. It now opens during the summer months. The interior is beautifully preserved and includes a twin pulpit for those who preferred to hear the Word in stereo.

Open 10:00-17.00 Until End of October.

10.00-15.00 Winter Months

Died in childbirth

Dorset Walks - Portland

Portland has always been different. Its people. Its landscape. Its traditions.
Joined to the mainland by the merest sliver of shingle its only communication with mainland Dorset until 1839 was by ferry. In bad weather it could be cut off for days.

The best way to experience its otherness is to pull on a pair of boots and walk...the route is clear and simple and can easily be shortened by cutting across the island.

Distance around 8 miles

Dorset Cycling- Flying along the Purbecks by mountain bike

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This cycle begins and ends in the free National Trust car park above Ringstead rather than the lower seaside car park.

Mysterious carvings

The views are exhilarating; with Portland silhouetted in the distance one way and the swooping and dipping chalk coastline of the Purbecks in the other.

View from bridleway Portland on the Horizon

The route is easy to follow and the gradients mostly gentle. There are a few short on-road stretches Take care especially on the short busy stretch of the A353.

If you are feeling energetic bring your kayak and see some of the best of the Purbecks from another angle. (see here)

Distance approx. 15 miles

Time around 3-4hrs
Ordnance Survey Explorer OL15 Purbeck and South Dorset

Distance 15 miles 
Time around 4hrs

Distance 15 miles 
Time around 4hrDistance 15 miles 

Time around 4hrs

Dorset History 1-The Easton Massacre

High above Portland can be found the church of St George, its classical proportions make it an architectural gem worth seeking in its own right but its graveyard is also special.

Its weathered memorials standing just a stone's throw from the very edge of the quarry, are unusually elaborate and evocative.

In the present day and age, when atrocities take place far from home one particular memorial bears witness to a violent sequence of events that took place here on Portland over 200 years ago which ended in the violent death of twenty one year old Mary Way.

 Her gravestone tells of her death as a result of wounds sustained after being shot by the Press Gang. The incident took place April 2 1803, and is remembered to this day as the Easton Massacre.

It all began on the night before her death when men from the Frigate, Eagle, had come ashore and unsuccessfully attempted to press Nicholas Way. He was the captain of a small vessel and therefore exempt from the press (as indeed all the able bodied men on the island were).

Undeterred, at 5.00 am the next morning the Eagle's captain landed at Easton with a heavily armed force of some thirty men and officers. The early hour was chosen to catch the islanders while they slept. One of the first men they apprehended was their previous night’s victim, Nicholas Way along with Henry Wiggat. By this time the villagers, woken by the furore, ran for cover in panic. As the Press Gang chased the villagers uphill they found their way was bravely blocked by Zachariah White. Demanding the source of their authority he discovered that the warrant, signed by a Mayor of Weymouth, had no legal authority on the island.

 

The sailors, though, ignored his protestations and moved on. 
As the situation began to grow ugly they formed a defensive line. When they attempted to snatch yet another islander, the crowd snapped. In the ensuing scuffles a pistol, whether accidentally or not, was fired by the captain. This was the prearranged signal to open fire. In the ensuing chaos three islanders died instantly, shot through the head. Two more, one of them Mary Way, fell fatally wounded to the ground, a bullet lodged in her back. The pressgang who had also sustained casualties then retired to their ship taking their hard-won captives.

St Georges stands on the very edge of a quarry

An official enquiry into the events was eventually held but no convictions were ever made (plus ca change...!) while the involvement of a Weymouth JP only served to sustain their historical enmity between the two communities.

A short walk to the church

St Georges can be made the destination of a short but rewarding walk. The headstone of Mary Way is here, as is the doubly unfortunate William Hansford who died in the Great Storm of November 1824 when the sea came over the Chesil Beach and broke his leg after which his house fell on him and killed him.
Parking in Chiswell follow the signs for the coast path which takes you steeply uphill giving you breathtaking views of Chesil Bank and the Jurassic Coast. As the path levels out a diversion to the left will take you into the Tout Quarry Sculpture Park where sculptures lie amid the undergrowth like the relics of a lost civilisation. Continue along the path to reach the church.
There and back is just over 3 miles.

Food with views 2

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Two contrasting places to munch... one thing in common, views...



Quiddles Fortuneswell Portland DT5 1LY 

Quiddles is housed in a thoughtful piece of modern architecture (how rare is that?) with a definite deco feel. It's a couple of hundred yards from the (free!) car park and right on the coast path and close to the Tout Quarry sculpture park. It opens from 9.00am seven days a week in the summer making it a fantastic place for a ye olde English breakfast, seafood lunches and cream teas in the afternoon.

Close by is another bistro with an equally spectacular view

Down House Farm Higher Eype Bridport DT6 6AH 

Down House Farm is reached by following a long bumpy track into the middle of nowhere... chickens and a cockerel let you know you've arrived. The cafe is an oasis of peace amid lush rolling farmland and the food unpretentious and homemade and uses the farm's own organic meat, herbs and vegetables. 

If it's just a cappuccino you want newspapers are thoughtfully provided.

Dorset Folkore 5-The Chesil Beach mermaid

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Dorset's long coastline and an ancient seafaring tradition makes it inevitable that tall tales of a fishy variety often circulated amongst the locals.
One of these relate that in 1757  the people of Portland spotted what they took to be a mermaid. The creature was eventually washed up at West Bexington and named Veasta.
Unfortunately for local fantasists she was even less of a looker than the local maids; being 13 ft long with a head that was a cross between a man and a hog and possessed of a  set of ninety six pearly gnashers. To top things off she had fins that resembled hands...not the sort of things to have running through your hair.
An even earlier sighting from Portland described a creature resembling a cock appearing from the sea. It posessed a great crest on its head, a red beard and legs half a yard long. After having a good old crow it finally disappeared from whence it came...still, as they say,  its all the same with a bit of batter on.

Dorset folklore - 'Oh R****T!'

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Portlanders, as they would proudly admit, have aways been a race apart. Separated fom the mainland by  a narrow causeway and before that, by just a ferry, it's understandable that they developed  their own distinct traditions.
One of these refers to mentioning the word 'rabbit' or rather, in this case, not mentioning the word rabbit.
No one is certain how the taboo first arose, though one explanation surmises that appearance of fleeing rabbits in large numbers was a sure portent of lethal rockfalls in the quarries for which Portland was famous. Consequently, over time, the cuddly critters gradually became associated with bad luck in general.
As a small aside, Portlanders seem to have been suspicious of everything, even their fellow men. 
In a hobbit-like fashion the population arranged themselves into three distinct communities; Tophillers (who, obviously lived at the top of the island, Underhillers (I'll let you work that one out...) and finally Kimberlins (the rest)...as for Weymouth folk...best draw a veil at this point...

Portland 1- Tout Quarry Sculpture Park

A killer walk deserves a killer view....

The Isle of Portland is unique...part of Dorset but not of Dorset. Rugged and treeless and until the late eighteenth century joined to the mainland by just a ferry.
You love it or hate it.
The most rewarding way to find Tout Quarry requires a short, stiff climb upwards along the coast path from the hamlet of Chiswell. The stunning views alone would make the trip worth the puffing, blowing and strain on the pacemaker; but in 1985 someone had the elegantly simple idea of turning sculptors and their imaginations loose with chisels on the tumbled stone. 
The result is the best sort of art; the kind you discover almost by accident. Unusually for conteporary art, it even has a smattering of wit. Anthony Gormley has made a contribution and maybe you could if you apply for one of  sculpture courses that take place in the quarry
www.learningstone.org

I think this is Mr Gormely's contribution...

Dorset Museums 4 - Portland Museum

One of the attractions of local museums is that their very lack of sophistication gives them a unique charm that their urban brothers lack.
Portland museum is a great example of this. It occupies a modest quarry worker's cottage and is filled with objects tracing its relationship with both sea and stone. 

Thrown in for good measure is this intriguing exhibit of a rather withered moggy. 
Portland having been a virtual island until the 1820s meant that superstitions took a long time to disappear, as this unfortunate cat bears witness. Dating from the 1800s it was walled up alive in a new house to bring luck and to ward off evil spirits.

www.portlandmuseum.co.uk

Hills and views 4-St Catherine's Chapel

View from the road above Abbotsbury St Catherine's Chapel with The Fleet, Chesil Bank and Portland in the distance

St Catherine's Chapel dates from the 14thC and sits high on a hilltop above the village of Abbotsbury. It seemed the perfect place to sip and quaff a flask of coffee whilst offering thanks for the first cloudless day in weeks. 
Just a short scramble uphill from the village and you have gained an outlook that would bring out the poet in anyone.

The chapel is the focus to one of Dorset's most sublime views. 

Far below, the Fleet lagoon sparkles silver  and Chesil Bank sweeps away in a gentle crescent that culminates in the mysterious Isle of Portland in the blue distance, while at the foot of the hill, the village clusters around the scant remains of the Abbey that gave it its name.

Negotiating groups of inquisitive heifers, a scramble downhill brings you to the sloping shingle and the tumbling surf of Chesil Bank itself. If all this leaves you feeling spiritual, services are still held at the chapel several times a year.