I took my mum for a four-day break to Bournemouth (our family home) in September and we had a very good time. It apparently rained some in Swindon but in Bournemouth we enjoyed perfect weather. We once again stayed at the Travelodge along Christchurch Road but both of us worried about the room which the other had so we swapped (for reasons unknown) for the second night only to reinstate ourselves for the last night (for reasons which quickly became known. Noise. I dutifully caved into Mother...)
We continue to learn more about our own country and I learn more about distances, if not always directions. When it became evident to me that Shaftesbury is not really that far from Swindon, we decided to have a look at the delightful Gold Hill, the place of the Hovis advert fame as well as being a widely- photographed spot, after earlier paying our respects at the grave of my late friend and famous scorer, Bill Frindall.

Armed now with a Blue Badge, my mum and I doubtless benefited in many places and had but a short walk from the Bell Street Car Park to the delightful Gold Hill. I accept that my sense of direction is far from ideal and with Mum's sight difficulties, we are not maybe the likeliest duo to embark upon a hitherto uninterrupted and serene journey but I have found a way which tends to work well, namely studying the route on Google Maps/Earth. Which works well - usually - as my brain takes in the important places which I usually recognise once on our way. Sadly, however, the onward journey from Shaftesbury went wrong due to a road closure but, for once thinking clearly, we decided upon the Poole road, followed the diversion signs and ended up in Bournemouth without any idea how. Dorset, it seems, is not the ideal place for someone like me to become lost as a lot of road signs seem to be hidden behind foliage. I do not believe that I am the only one who does not really enjoy driving any longer but we did at least make it.
Our Blue Badge allowed us to park near the Wetherspoons pub, The Mary Shelley (near the author's family tomb in the adjacent St. Peter's Church), but I did have to return to the car after a set-to with someone asking for money partly to collect something I had forgotten afterwards and also to ensure that there had been no damage!
We did different activities from our last visit. On the first full day, we visited the New Forest and saw the Rufus Stone as well as the delightful cricket grounds of Cadnam, Swan Green (sadly no longer used) and Lyndhurst & Ashurst. Needless to say, all delightful spots and I would have been very happy to have had a game at any of these grounds. We went on to Beaulieu where, to my knowledge, I last visited in June 1980 on a school trip. I have a photo of that trip and, as one who likes looking for needles in haystacks, wanted to find the spot: as I could only see one grass bank, the scene of the 1980 photograph, at Beaulieu, I am pretty confident that I was successful.
The other parts of Beaulieu were delightful and we enjoyed the Top Gear, National Motor Museum and a trip on the monorail. It struck me as being fairly quiet that day but we very much enjoyed our two hours there. Seeing The Stig, Daleks, vintage cars and some Formula 1 cars as well as the grass bank was much fun.

Our house is called Lyndhurst because the previous owners came from that area. It is pleasant but not the traffic, especially with roadworks.
We took the bus to Poole the next day. The M1/M2 bus service is very frequent and gives quite a scenic tour so we started by going in the opposite direction to Boscombe and seeing my grandfather's old shop in Palmerston Road (pronounced Pummerston at least by him) as well as other family haunts before taking the bus via Bournemouth Square to Poole. I have to say that I cannot remember the last time that I went to Poole but it was many, many years ago and I recognised absolutely nothing. The weather was not especially terrific but was at least dry but we did not linger long.

Another grandmother lived in Charminster and, after a somewhat lengthy journey there from Christchurch Road mainly because we narrowly missed one bus and had a longer than expected wait for the next, our visit was not wholly successful. I tried again to find the grave of Alma Rattenbury, but was rather hoping that I might bump into someone who worked there, but didn't. The better entrance to the cemetery had been locked due to "antisocial behaviour" and, as we read that we would have a longer walk to gain entrance, a highly noisy car roared past. I didn't know quite what to think or say. Anyway, the journey back was easier and we enjoyed a walk along East Overcliff Drive and saw the two piers in by now better weather.
My other set of grandparents had a guest house in Frances Road, just a few minutes walk from the Travelodge. The road has changed little and their house is still used for accommodation purposes.
Our return to Swindon was by a somewhat circuitous route, deliberately. Some of the reasons for visiting certain places may appear gloomy, others far less so. We stopped in Wimborne and thoroughly enjoyed the Minster after first visiting the cemetery. Mother, shall we say, stayed in the car whilst I embarked on the quest to find the grave of Montague Druitt, a Jack the Ripper suspect. How credible the claims are, I cannot be sure but I do know that he was also a reasonable cricketer. Another cricketer is also buried in the cemetery: Nicholas Wanostrocht, possibly better known by his pseudonym, Felix. I found both.

We moved on to Sherborne, a place I visited in, I believe, 1982 to play cricket there for Blundell's 3rd XI. Okay, I could never bat but I remember being greatly irked at being caught by a fielder on the boundary with his hands behind his head. It would have been my first-ever six. I never hit a six. We were very badly beaten by something bordering on 150 runs but I also remember having a pint - maybe two - in the pub afterwards. I suspect from the position of the playing fields, the Skippers is the place where we refreshed ourselves although I have always wanted to believe that it was called The Green Dragon back then: that could have been near another school, I suppose. I mean, looking at the scores, we must have had plenty of time to enjoy a drink before the coach back. Happy days - despite being so close to that six...
Sherborne Abbey is delightful, as is the town. As I remember, we did not see it back in 1982 - okay, I realise that I may be digging a hole for myself here: it was unlikely to have been more than one or two pints due to financial restraints but, looking at the layout of the area, it is likely that we would have turned straight back towards Tiverton and not because I forgot everything quickly after a skinful. Anyway, our visit forty-two years later was most enjoyable and I drove us back in the same general direction as the one which we had come down on. Stone cold sober...