It was Mr Nick's birthday this weekend just gone, and we always like to do something that we wouldn't normally do, so we remember it. Last year I was dragged up Snowdon, (the highest mountain in Wales), so I was much relieved to discover that this year's adventure included pasties, ice-cream and cider.
We set off at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning, rain obscuring our view out the car windows. After a few hours, as we neared the coast, the sky began to brighten and when we arrived in Dorchester for lunch it was sunny and warm! We couldn't believe our luck after such a bad forecast for all of Britain. My first port of call was Frank Herring & Sons, an art shop est. in 1930. My Grandpa Bob used to take me here when I was little and it hasn't changed much apart from the arrival of "crafting" supplies. It is stacked from the floor o the ceiling with e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g a scribbler could ever possibly need and has proper 'old school' stock for 'proper' artists, like watercolour brushes the size of your arm and pretty porcelain pallettes, not the silly plastic ones you buy today. I still have my porcelain pallette that Grandpa insisted I needed, as plastic ones 'were useless', and it really has served me well.
We had a few hours to kill before we could check into the B&B so we had lunch, then set of to visit Bridport. I must say I was a little disappointed. I had a vision in my mind of a cute little harbour with a little beach and some pastel coloured cottages, (I was SURE this was the backdrop I had witnessed Hugh Fearnley Wittingstall cooking fresh fish in front of), but it was a little bit neither here nor there. But never the less we had ice cream and a paddle and a thoroughly good time!
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