....is a long way away.
We spent the day there today while Younger Daughter underwent a university interview.
With no parking whatsoever on campus there was nothing for it but for Mrs H and me to head into town for a stroll on the beach, a promenade on the pier and an amble through The Lanes.
We found an amazing shop selling ancient weaponry and armour, right up to Bren guns. Not that we have any interest in military memorabilia, but it was fascinating. There was an ancient Saxon broadsword on sale for four grand, and a couple of genuine Winchester rifles like the ones John Wayne spun round his head in True Grit.
We were absorbed and fascinated right up to the moment we saw a sign saying "'This is my favourite shop' - Jim Davidson", at which point we left.
A pint of Dragon's Den at the Wetherspoons beer festival set us up for the afternoon.
Passing a phone box I noticed cards advertising taxis, pizzas, and the services of a 'Busty Pre-Op Trans-sexual'. What can it all mean?
For the journey back, we decided to put our trust in satnav and see where it took us. Against our better judgement the Satnav Lady eschewed the route back via Salisbury and the A303 and sent us instead to Bournemouth, Bridport and the hilltop horror that is the Poundbury eyesore.
Either way, it's a shade over four hours, but the Bridport run was a bit more scenic.
I didn't do this (below) by the way. It was already broken when I got there.
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