We start this blog where I started my life, in Dorset.
I always claim that I am not from anywhere and have no interest in nationalism or in regionalism. In fact I currently live in Leeds and often find myself feeling quite queasy at the Leedscentric ways of the people from there. But this holiday is proving to me that I am from somewhere and that place is Dorset. I was born here and I rather love it. The beauty of the Isle of Purbeck is undeniable and it is a great place for a 1940s style childhood. For starters, the Queen of old-fashioned childhood pusuits, Enid Blyton, lived here for a while, dispensing mad adventure and mad racism in equal measure. It is a landscape rich in those childhood pursuits denied to those locked indoors with Playstations: you can hunt for fossils on the beaches and pretend to be a knight in the castles. There are cream teas and dreaming villages.
Yesterday Evan and I had a fantastic day. We visited
Dorchester County Museum where he completed the Roman trail and dressed up as a Roman and Ancient Briton. Afterwards we went to
Portland castle where we pretended to fire cannons at the French. Finally, we went to Portland Bill and
Chesil beach where we climbed up huge pebble mountains to hurl other pebbles into the sea. It was a fanastic and enjoyable day. It was just like a 1940s day out in Dorset or, at least, how I imagine one to have been.