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The day we caught the train Beside the seaside, beside the sea

Wednesday, March 2nd 2022. Public transport beckoned. But first, a change of breakfast - instead of a fry up, I went for eggs royale. How very posh I felt.

It was still raining, having not stopped for something like 30-odd hours. A few texts were exchanged with friends who either live nearby, or used to. Neither of them are particularly keen on recommending Bournemouth, but that’s where we’d chosen to go. From Brockenhurst it’s just a 15 minute one stop journey on the xx05 trains, and we’d decided to get the 1105. It would still be raining, but that was due to stop at about midday, maybe 1pm.

Despite the rules changing, we’re still scared so we don our FFP2 masks and head towards the front of the train which looks pretty empty as it comes in. In fact, we end up in the first carriage where mask wearing is at 100% - because we’re the only two people there.

It’s bleak. There’s very little picturesque about the ride through Sway, New Milton, Christchurch, etc. And Bournemouth station itself is a good mile, mile and half from the sea front. I’ve been here loads of times, and getting from the station to the sea is never a pleasant bit of a trip here.

Past the big Asda. Past the multi storey car park. Past the closed down shops. Past the hotels that would’ve looked dated in the 70s. All in rain and biting wind.

Our reward for this arduous walk is, of course, the glorious seafront and pier.

There is one person surfing, in decidedly not surfing conditions. This wind is not the sort to generate big waves, it’s just a bit choppy.

Most things are closed, which makes sense given everything. No amusements. No adventure activities. No zip wire to the beach.

From the pier, looking back to land, we see something which cannot fail to cheer us up. Behold, HAPPYLAND.

I genuinely am cheered up by HAPPYLAND. It’s hilariously bleak.

With nothing else to do and no desire to go indoors anywhere, we remain thankful for our waterproofs and go for a bracing walk along the front, past a funicular railway (closed), lots of beach huts, and a Harvester.

After a while we reach Alum Chine, where there’s a tropical garden.

The garden is alright. Not picturesque in the circumstances (and season). It gives our legs a workout as we wind our way to the top of the cliff up the weaving paths. From the top, the view further west is alright. It would be even better if the sun were out.

At the top it’s much less windy, and in fact the rain has stopped. It feels like the sun is attempting to burn off some of the cloud. We walk the streets of Bournemouth’s residential areas back into the city centre, past an Untappd verified venue that I kinda wanted to visit - but it doesn’t open until 4pm. Damn.

Eventually we joined the garden route back to the pier alongside a big bunch of art.

Where the town centre sprawls out, as the middle gardens give way to the lower gardens, I spot Brewdog. Woohoo! But, Helen’s not hungry enough to stop for lunch just yet plus the sun’s out, which might be enough to dry the outdoor seating if we can kill another half hour or so first. Besides which, the lower garden has an aviary which we’d both like to visit.

Oh. The aviary is entirely fenced off and not currently an aviary. Never mind. There are some nice flower displays at the very end of the garden, in front of the pavilion.

And the weather is really quite reasonable now, so time for another assault on the pier.

It’s not amazing, but it’s much more pleasant than before. Key West, the dreadful bar at the end of the pier, still doesn’t feel attractive and Helen still doesn’t fancy a big meal. So, I buy a sausage roll from a kiosk and eat it as we walk back to Brewdog, where we’ll have a drink and some snacks. We’ve covered a fair bit of distance on foot by now anyway, and much less flat than Monday’s New Forest adventure.

Brewdog has very few customers in it and we’re able to secure a booth that feels safe enough, right next to the front door. We’re welcomed by a member of staff who asks if we’ve been to a Brewdog before, and they almost kowtow when I say yep, I’m an Equity Punk.

Problem #1: I’ve got no mobile signal, so the app and website don’t work. Problem #2: there’s no sign of the wifi network password, so I go to the bar and ask for it. Problem #3: the app outright refuses to accept my phone number, however I format it. Spaces, no spaces, landline, mobile. All refused, even the number that was already associated with my account - which, for some reason, was the landline number of Brewdog Brixton. WTF. So I end up going to the bar and showing what I’d attempted to order (including the discounts I’m entitled to!). Bah.

When the food and drinks arrive, they are excellent. I went for some incredibly sour stout, Helen had a cherry and dark chocolate rum and cola, and we shared some dirty chicken fries. All great. But best of all, it felt AMAZING to be doing something so utterly mundane as “drink inside a pub” and not feel entirely terrified about it. (NB. there’s not zero terror, but anything below 90% feels new)

The mobile website allows me to order a second round, despite throwing an error when I added one item to the basket. Once we’d finished those, it was time to leave - we thought we’d timed it so it would be a comfortable walk back to the 15 minute one stop train back, early enough that there’d be no commuters.

What actually happened is that we had a perilous walk, getting totally lost amongst the student housing, and only just managing to get back to the station with about 90 seconds before the train left. On the plus side, we again had a carriage to ourselves.

Our confidence up, we thought about eating out - Google said two of the Brockenhurst pubs were “not busy” and the third “not too busy”. I didn’t fancy the Foresters, neither of us fancied the Huntsman, so we returned to the Snakecatcher. Inside we bought beer and looked for a table, only to find that most of them were reserved for diners arriving soon and anyway, things were a bit too tightly packed. So in the end we had our beer in the garden as darkness fell, being serenaded by an extremely gobby blackbird.

Up on the high street is a Co-op called “Welcome”, which happens to be a verified venue on Untappd. We were going there to get some food to eat back at the cottage, and I was delighted to find a beer from Vibrant Forest (local to the area, about 8 miles away I think) that I failed to buy when getting a box of dark beers delivered at home.

Before settling in, we went to the gin bar, sitting in the same seats where we’d eaten breakfast. I had a tasting flight of local gins, Helen an espresso martini.

We might have stayed longer but the experience was soured somewhat by the only other customers present being very loud, talking about how hard it is to be a private landlord. Because, y’know, tenants are all arseholes and no-one understands the landlord woe and the government is against them and etc. Sigh.

Dinner, if I recall correctly, ended up being a pork pie. This is not a complaint. We went to bed early due partly to being knackered, but also because on Thursday we were to have our earliest breakfast yet, due to having ferry tickets booked for 1000. Exciting!

Created By
Darren Foreman
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