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November 5, 2016

The great thing about writing a blog is that no one may read it at all so it can be like writing down your own personal thoughts on any subject you like. Then again lots of people may read it so you have to use a bit of common sense and not start insulting people. I have decided to write a blog once a week about the places I have visited during the previous week. As I don’t get to go very far these days it could be a bit limited, we will see how it goes.

This week, last Wednesday to be precise my wife Julie said she had to go to a meeting in north Somerset and would I like to go along and take the dog to the coast for somewhere different for the both of us to visit.

I dropped her off at the office and drove on the A39 to Kilve a small village close to the Bristol channel and turned left down a lane through the village following a sign which read Kilve beach.

The lane turned into a track for half a mile and suddenly terminated in a piece of waste ground. There were no cars there except for me. I looked around the car park area which in effect was a piece of rough ground with a couple of old wooden benches and a waste bin oh and not forgetting the white box and the sign don’t forget to get a ticket to park or you will be liable to a £60 fine!

Yes out here in the middle of nowhere on the bleak north Somerset coast a ticket machine, a white box for the purpose of extracting money from any visitor unlucky enough to want to spend an hour walking on the beach.

I looked at the map and saw that there was a public toilet marked on the map so maybe the cost of the parking was the upkeep of that facility? I walked around the field, nope no toilet block. an old shed that could have been one once, no surly not. Right then what was the 1.50 parking fee for?  No one about to ask ask and no one about to keep an eye on the car while I was away. Well not a problem really as there was noone else about and not likely to be with the thickening mist and falling drizzle. Stop being grumpy John, I told myself, pay up and go for your walk. Dog getting restless. Don’t have any change, this is getting worse, don’t want to go home and don’t want to risk a fine of £60 so search the pockets and see what we can come up with. Ah ha in the glove compartment a £2 coin.  Back to machine, read instructions, no change given, beginning to dislike this white box. Swear at it and curse. Dog getting worried, Right put the £2 coin in and get on with it.

Finally got on our way along the track to beach, next sign “Private road no entry” Lucky a small sign with English Coast Path on it. Didn’t have to use the private road, incidentally this was a tractor track, no road anywhere.

I decided to head east up a narrow footpath that interestingly joined the “private road” 50 yards further on, The dog and I stood on the high ground and looked over the edge at what was supposed to be the beach! No beach, not one speck of sand, miles of rocks as far as the eye could see and as the tide was out about 200 yards of rocks between the cliffs and the dirty brown water which is the Bristol channel.

The path followed the cliff edge and I feared for the dog and could not let her off the lead and this was not a very interesting place unless you like acres of grass . I decided to turn around and retrace my steps  and  see what was along the path to the west. As it happened this was more interesting as the cliffs were low and I could let the dog off. we walked for a couple of miles taking in the rugged, wild coast, no-one to be seen and I could imagine how some people might find it interesting. I can’t believe that someone had the nerve to call this place a beach though, not with the wildest stretch of imagination.



We wandered back to the car and I dried the dog as best I could, what to do next?

I know I will go home, nothing else to do here anyway!!  Thought for the day “I won’t be back here in a hurry”.




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