At least that was how my sarcastic Auto Correct tried to label these pictures when I created an album on my social media accounts! It has a dry sense of humour more arid than my own.
What this actually was was a place called Durdle Door and The Jurassic Coast, in Dorset. It was the end of Summer last year, one of the last proper sunny days. Lovely and bright but not quite as warm as the pictures show. Still, it was a nice trip out with some lovely views. I always love rock formations like The Door. Its easy to make up myths of passing into a different world under the arch, and as a fantasy writer its the kind of thing that stirs the imagination.
The single mounds of Chesil Beach were also astonishing. Millions of small stones and pebbles, which I believe you are prohibited from taking as a souvenir, stretch all along the coast. Its quite a sight and one hell of a workout for the calves! Its also the site of one of my favourite photos, where I catch my girlfriend in a ray of sunlight…just like she’d being blessed by the Divine. I think I caught it pretty well.
Then we have the geo-glyph of the Osmington White Horse. The giant white steed in the mountain is quite the sight, but the memory of this trip was our Sat Nav taking us on this bizarre backwater trail down rutted tracks that my poor car was NOT designed for. It was like something out of Children of the Corn or Deliverance. Luckily, we didn’t hear any banjos, my asshole survived in one piece and we still had time to have a standard car row and my GF kept missing the teeny, tiny side road for the viewing platform. The horse wasn’t exactly the Nazca Lines, but worth a look if you are in the area.