How to describe Weymouth? I have pondered this conundrum for far too long whilst walking the dog, would I go back? Absolutely not, yet it is a place not without a little charm, only it's buried deep, deep undercover.What you have is a small Tudor harbour that has expanded into a large fishing town, add to this a royal palace built by George III overlooking with a sweeping Georgian terrace facing the wide promenade sea front which is home to a beautiful sandy beach. The sand here is so fine as to be almost classified as silt! So what went wrong? I guess the sixties happened and cheap nasty B&B's took over along with corrupt council officials and what was once lovely is now a nasty dirty car riddled nightmare town.
I tried so very hard to capture the spirit of Weymouth but I fear others have done it better, not least the amazing photographer Paul Russell who has a much better grip on the place, although looking back I think I may have given him a run for his money, but I did have glorious sunshine on my side. The red stripe top was by far and away my most favourite apparel, I lived in it and loved it along with my boyfriend jeans, both perfect for the seaside.
Cath Kidston is fairly ubiquitous around the English coastline but here sightings were rarer than normal and in fact the clothes shops here were the worst I have ever encountered, the town planners here have all but destroyed a beautiful regency town and turned it into a generic high street, a complete disgrace, if you could see the beautiful bones they had to work with....
I don't think you could ever mistake this town for anywhere other than England, there are flags everywhere. Not just for the wedding but all the time, and more so as the Olympics will arrive next year fore the sailing events.
Catching these two was not easy as they span round but I love the way my niece's candy floss fringe flew back.
The place we stayed was the best we have rented so far and it even had a balcony hence we rarely ventured to the beach, Kitty and my niece Ellie loved to walk the dog along the waters edge each night, and I too walked him long and hard so he was exhausted enough to sleep through the night. We all got on well and took it in turns to cook and for the first time ever did not end the holiday with a celebratory meal out, why? There was nowhere with even a tiny smidgen of atmosphere, you either slummed it in the pubs or had to sit in stiflingly formal restaurants and as someone who can get somewhat animated we gave it a miss this year. The pubs are great fun though, but just stick to the cider and pork scratchings!