Day 21: The Jurassic Coast Home

I have tried to write this a couple of times now... I’ve taken a couple hours off and walked along the sea front, but nothing comes easily.
I took my time packing up this morning, knowing that I had the time to chill out and relax – at least a little. I made the decision that I wanted to do the last couple of hundred miles over a couple of days. Riding as hard and as far as I have, I am aware that the last few hundred miles are the miles when a mistake, an accident, is most likely to happen. It has also meant that I have had the opportunity to ride some of the most beautiful coast-line. That is not to say that the coast I have ridden thus far has not been beautiful, but if the light hits the sand and if the rain stays away, then there is nothing like the sun glistening over the surface of the water and across the face of rock.
I rode into Beer; everyone has said it is picturesque – the archetypal chocolate box scene. It wasn’t out of my way, and it was an opportunity to stop for a coffee, but when I arrived, I was a little disheartened... the water-front is indeed wonderful and the sun produced an amazing liquid gold crown to the bay. I didn’t get a coffee. I have noted it before, but people do obviously look quite uncomfortable when a hairy biker pulls into their little bit of peace and quiet. As I walked up the cliff-top path, I noted people looking and to start with you smile. You know what is going through their minds, and you also know that they have no idea who you really are. Would it have been any different if there were two of us instead of just me...? I don’t know, but it certainly would be fun to find out. After a while though it becomes boring. I walked back to my bike and when I arrived a black Peugeot 307 was parked just behind my bike it wasn’t blocking me and I wasn’t parked illegally so I wasn’t bothered. What did bother me was the guy starting the engine and then pulling out of the way when I started my engine. I pulled away and so did he, he pulled around in front of me and drove up the hill out of Beer nice and slowly, just keeping pace. We left Beer and rejoined the A352 towards Lyme Regis and within a mile he pulled over and I rode past. I don’t know if he was an officer in an unmarked car, but he certainly acted like one. (I know, riding around for a few years I’ve had a few follow me, and I’ve been stopped a couple of times too.)
Lyme Regis was a little brighter, not necessarily in terms of the weather though as the wind picked up and down came the first spots of rain. I had parked by the waterfront, the intention being to stop just long enough to take a couple of pictures before driving on to West Bay and then Dorchester. I pulled up next to another (older) bike and got chatting to a guy called Donald. The bike started life as a Moto Guzzi when he originally bought it back in the 1970s, but over the years he has had to make a few modifications and build in a few bolt-ons in order to keep her going. We got to talking about things to see and places to go and as impressed as he was at my tour around Britain and Ireland, I was just as impressed by his ride around and across the south of France. He hasn’t been for a few years now but the short time we had to talk about our journeys, you could see the interest beginning to peak once more.
There is definitely an itch that needs to be scratched. I am just a few hours from home, and yet I am already feeling the draw back to the road. There have been a few moments when I have sat at junctions looked right, smiled and known I’m going home, but then looked left and also known that if I make that turn, then the journey begins once more – only this time in reverse. I’m going home... but will admit to thinking about the next ride and the next challenge.
The greatest point of the day came as I turned toward Corfe castle. There it was on the hill top, standing tall and true as it has for 1,000 years.And wouldn't you know it... right in the way, a herd of cows decide to cross the road :0) I have shared the road with other motor vehicles, in fact that has been the majority case, but I have also had the pleasure of sharing it with sheep, goats, highland cows and now the cows at Corfe. Marvellous.
I rode to the final B&B of the tour. A lovely little place in the centre of Swanage town: A Great Escape, and a charming, vibrant, excitable lady (Sue) who runs the place. It is my final night on the road and she has given me a wonderfully comfortable room to help me relax this one last time.
Tomorrow I am speaking to BBC South, in an interview that they want to do about the ride, the charity, the reasons behind it, the best bits, the expectations of going home and the future... I’m not sure... the only real thing I am sure about is the planning of the next.