England, Day 1 (Do-Over)

This was the trip we wanted to take last summer before our plans abruptly changed. Instead we went to Costa Rica for reasons I talked about before, and all of us had a wonderful time. Even so, I still felt bad that the younger kid lost out on the original destination. He wanted to go to England for years, and it pertained to a very specific annual event called Tankfest in Bovington. So perhaps we could declare a do-over and make it happen for him?

That’s why we focused on Dorset, a ceremonial county straddling the English Channel a couple of hours southwest of London. We wanted something near Tankfest that we could also use to explore the area for about a week. After that we could finish with three days in London.

We were blessed with amazing weather the entire time, with warm (not hot), sunny days. I never expected to worry about sunburn in England but it actually happened.


Arrival

Landing at Heathrow. Photo by howderfamily.com; (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

We flew overnight from the eastern coast of North America to Heathrow Airport on an Airbus A380-800, the world’s largest passenger jet. More than five hundred people ride on two decks. This was my first time on such an enormous airliner and it doesn’t even make sense that it flies. But it got us there.

Somehow British Airways lost our luggage deep within the bowels of Heathrow and it took nearly two hours for them to locate a very sizeable, very visible shipping container stuffed with suitcases. Everyone could see it with their AirTags and yet, inexplicably, it completely confused the ground crew. Fortunately, we sailed through immigration and customs once Shaggy and Scooby solved the mystery.

Then we got on our way. I’ve driven on the left side enough times in enough places (Australia, New Zealand, Ireland, Scotland) that it comes naturally now. My brain completed the mental flip pretty much instantaneously, and I hit the road fueled by anticipation, a couple of hours of fidgety airline sleep, and a dose of 5-hour energy drink.

I’m not sure what I expected from England’s road system. Motorways connect the largest cities and dual carriageways sometimes pushed directionally towards smaller cities. However there weren’t very many of them, certainly not to the same extent I’ve experienced back in the States, and soon they petered out into the automotive equivalent of goat paths. They were sealed and well-maintained but they followed routes first blazed in the dark ages.

Unfortunately a single lane of heavy traffic that dipped and curved at every geographical contour, combined with slow moving lorries and farm machinery with little room to pass deeply impeded progress. The tiniest distances required extraordinary patience and commitment.


Home Base

Swanage Bay. Photo by howderfamily.com; (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Originally we planned to stay near Bournemouth (map), the largest town in Dorset. We found a great Airbnb property after a couple of other possibilities failed to materialize, and we placed a deposit. Then, less than two weeks before departure, it fell through because of a boiler issue on the property. So we had to scramble in a mild panic because bookings were already tight during the summer season.

That led us to search a little farther afield and to think more creatively. By then I’d finished a lot of research and I’d noticed a concentration of interesting attractions on the Isle of Purbeck, which isn’t actually an island it’s a peninsula but I’ll explain that later. The town of Swanage (map) seemed particularly well situated on Purbeck and we found a few properties available. So we booked a three bedroom condo less than two blocks from the beach and it solved our problem. I had to revise a bunch of maps and itineraries but I preferred it to the alternative.

British friends of ours thought the choice was, well, unusual for North Americans. It’s a quintessential holiday destination for English residents but it doesn’t quite align with the usual tourist destinations for foreigners, as one friend explained. I didn’t mind. If anything that made the place more interesting. In fact, none of us recalled hearing a single American accent during our entire time in Swanage except for our own.


Settling In

We meandered our way down the narrow twisted roads with a hundred roundabouts and eventually arrived at our temporary residence. Jet lag beckoned but I resisted. I knew from experience that I needed to push through and keep a “normal” bedtime. So we walked our tired selves into town to orient ourselves and stave off sleep.

In Town

Swanage, England. Photo by howderfamily.com; (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

European towns have it right: walkable streets; ground-level retail; upper-level residential; robust public transportation; maximum use of available space. Everything was readily available in Swanage nearby, just leave the car at the condo and walk wherever we needed. This can be a bit jarring to the average American. We expect huge, abundant parking lots and certainly nobody wants their home attached to anyone else’s home. Nonetheless, the European model creates an efficiency that new urbanists can only dream about recreating.

An Icon

Classic English Red Telephone Booths. Photo by howderfamily.com; (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

They still have telephone booths! I saw these in Swanage and they seemed to exist all across the rest of England too, both in urban and rural settings. It’s been nearly two decades since the last one disappeared near my home. I can’t imagine who uses these things but they seemed to have actual working telephones within them. Every once in awhile I saw one where a defibrillator replaced the phone, which seemed like a rather useful and clever way to preserve them. I’d hate to see these iconic red boxes so characteristically English ever disappear. Maybe next time I’ll make it to Hull where they have the white booths.

A Loophole

The White Swan in Swanage, England. Photo by howderfamily.com; (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Someone 18 years old in the United States can vote, get married, join the military, serve on a jury, change their name, sign a contract, get a tattoo, be sentenced to life in prison, or a ton of other things like any other adult. However they still cannot drink any alcohol (legally) until they turn 21. That, of course, is not an issue in the United Kingdom where the drinking age is 18. Our younger kid fell within that range: too young for the US but old enough in the UK. So we let him order a cider at a local pub much to the delight of the regulars.

We were now well positioned in Swanage for the rest of the trip.


Articles in the England Series

  1. Do Over
  2. Jurassic Coast
  3. Dorchester
  4. Bristol
  5. Isle of Purbeck
  6. Bournemouth
  7. Tankfest
  8. Onward to London
  9. Atypical London
  10. More Typical London

See Also: The Complete Photo Album on Flickr

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