Yesterday was a lovely rest day with Bette and Colin. The rest consisted of a demonstration of navigation skills as we meandered around Broad Chalke. Lunch was in the Hub, making good use of a church.

The overnight thunder storm cleared the air. Venturing south, the first 15 miles or so was quite busy roads. Not always sympathetic to cyclists. Sometimes you wish the polite driver holding back overtaking would get on with it; sometimes you wish the drivers weren’t in such a hurry.

Everything settled down going through Wareham which felt quite a thriving wee old place. Woodsford Castle caught our attention: turns out to now be a Landmark Trust rental. Noted.

West Stafford’s sign, near Dorchester, recalled when it was once an important place, with a sophisticated meadow irrigation scheme. The cottages by the church have iron railings to protect them from the hoards of sheep once rampant though the streets. We’d passed Wool, perhaps they were heading there.

Skirting Dorchester, Weymouth marks the approach to Portland Bill. Just a wee hill to go up and we’re there. Here’s the route.

891 miles from Bettyhill. Sun to sun. A once idiosyncratic hotel to a still idiosyncratic hotel. All memorable.

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