Campervan Therapy

When I insist Seán needs some fresh air and exercise after two months chained to his work computer he looks aghast.

“We’ll spend three days walking England’s coastal path.”

He raises an eyebrow. He’s heard it all before. “Yes I know the longest coastal path in the world,” sighing at the thought of long treks ahead, then brightens, “We did that two years ago in Essex.”

“This time it’s Dorset,” I insist.

So how come our first night sees us in the New Forest’s East Boldre in the back of The Turfcutters’ carpark  then? Himself has had a recommendation from our friend Martin mainly based on the fact it’s a great pub that lets you camp and the food is hearty. Not quite the fitness regime I was intending.

But, as with all our detours, the stop-off offers up unexpected delights, from the screech owl that serenades the coming night and the six donkeys braying outside our van window to usher in the coming day. The donkeys then disappear only for me spot them queuing outside Boldre’s post office.

Hatchet Pond

The pond is more of a lake in size. Sitting just outside New Forest’s Beaulieu it supports hundreds of species, my favourite being the four jawed, hundred toothed leech which often likes to snack on the New Forest ponies. There’s rare and important species of stonewort in the water, red-stemmed and yellow flowered, long green strands, they create a tapestry of life.

Our first sighting is of a lapwing on an island in the pond. We stride around the water in the blustery sunshine, past cattle cooling off in its waters, swans with their seven cygnets, horses standing like statues and the cheeky donkeys.

Oak copses and purple heather cover the heathland and I forgive Himself for the detour.

Dorset’s Highcliffe

The coastal path at Highcliffe wasn’t on my itinerary – but lunch demands a stop – and what a picnic spot. Looking out over the English Channel, we eat looking at the iconic rock teeth of the Isle of Wight’s Needles.

The meandering, cliff-side coastal path here is an insect’s paradise.

Seán forgives me the hiking as he snaps bumble bees and butterflies feasting on purple teasel heads and wildflowers, the arc of golden shingle below stretching out to Christchurch Harbour.

Highcliffe Castle

If I see a path, I just have to follow it. So we zig-zag up the verdant cliff, and find a romantic parterre, beautiful gardens and an ornate, stucco bayed castle.

Capability Brown designed the gardens, even draining the cliff to protect them. However, Man generally loses out when they try to control Nature and half the gardens were lost when the sea sent them careering down the cliff. But the woodland of oak and beech that remains today is a balm of green cool after the strong sun.

We may have only covered a small three mile section of Dorset’s coastal path due to our public house detour, but I wouldn’t have missed the New Forest or Highcliffe for the sheer evidence that, in this section of the world at least, Nature is fighting back.