Hengistbury Head

When we lived in LA we explored.  We wanted to experience and see as much of America as we could – of course it’s a vast country and in reality we saw very little. Los Angeles is relatively isolated on the west coast and when you realise if you want to see somewhere else you are looking at a 3 or 4 hour flight, the urge to travel rapidly loses its appeal.

But we did do out best to explore Southern California, piling into the car and setting off on numerous road trips. The new adventurous me is committed to seeing as much of the UK as possible with the same sense of intrepid awe.

Home for a week from Saudi, the husband and I set off for a romantic tryst down to a luxurious hotel near the Dorset beauty spot of Hengistbury Head – it’s a mere hour’s drive from where we now live. Back in the US we’d have gone for breakfast and been home for lunch – in the UK we went for the whole weekend.

Hengistbury Head is an area of geological interest and natural beauty at the entrance to Christchurch Harbour.  At the tip of the headland is a spit of sand that stretches across the harbour entrance – on this sandbank sits a straddle of brightly coloured beach-huts that exchange hands for many  thousands of pounds a piece – no running water, no electricity. Not really my idea of a holiday home but we’re talking total exclusivity. You can tell by the accents of of the teenagers sat swigging beer on the  verandas that you have to be posh and privileged to afford a beach hut here.

Of course, when you’re staying in a beach hut on a sandbar, you need sunshine. Sadly that weekend it was in short supply. In fact it was chucking it down for most of the first day – horizontal rain and a howling gale. This wasn’t umbrella weather – it was wellies, full-length waterproofs and a sou’wester weather. It was awful. Hengistbury’s one waterfront cafe was doing a roaring trade – in fact I think some people were probably planning to stay there all day.

There was a break in the clouds so we ran  - setting off on a speedy hike over the headland with its views that stretch all the way along the south coast from Keyhaven in the East, the Isle of Wight and the Needles in the South, and Bournemouth and Poole in the West.  

Typical of the British weather, by evening the sun had come out in force and there was time for a  stroll around Mudeford Quay on the opposite side of the Christchurch harbour before our three course dinner at our boutiquey style hotel.  Only an hour’s wait for the main course – I’m so American – an hour’s wait!! Goodness if this was Pasadena we’d have been in and out and back home in front of the TV.....