The ancient mariner...

Had a chilly night, parked up by the harbour, in a small town called Watchet, just north of Minehead. The harbour was the inspiration for Samuel Coleridge to write The Ancient Mariner, while he was living in a nearby village, and a sculpture of said mariner, with the albatross round his neck, stands on the quay. ‘Ancient’? Hell, he looks younger than me…

I had a beer in a little pub last night, also on the quay. When I opened the door to leave, I walked into a broom cupboard. That gave the locals a laugh, though the landlady tried to save my blushes. “You’re not the first to do that”, she lied…

Taunton...

Had a fun weekend with old friends, Gordon and Trish, in Taunton, before they headed off to the Canary Islands. I even got shot of my copy of the Koran, by persuading Gordon that it was ideal holiday reading…

Black Friday...

I hear on the radio that we will be spending two billion pounds today, Black Friday, on things we probably don’t need, with money we probably haven’t got. Most of it will be bought online. I’m in Yeovil today, with no plans to buy anything, hoping to reverse the process by giving some books - now read - back to a charity shop…

Traffic congestion at Corfe Castle...

Campsite...

With a forecast of rain I holed up today in a campsite near Studland, on the so-called Jurassic Coast. Having processed a weeks-worth of pix, I’m having a pint in the campsite bar and watching TV: an unaccustomed pleasure. I’d forgotten that Coca Cola invented Christmas…

Wareham...

Phil...

I was looking around the church in Wareham, when a lady came up to me and said “How’s your leg?”. I said it was alright, the last time I looked, but I wondered who she thought I was. “You’re Phil”, she said, confidently. We had a chat, about Phil and the church and Wareham. As I was leaving she asked me to sign the visitors’ book. I signed it as ‘Phil’… what else?

I’m beginning to appreciate that, to a lot of people, old guys with a bit of a beard all look the same. We’re generic, interchangeable; one old guy is as good as another…

Another good place to stay...

Twilight...

The weather’s rather gloomy on the south coast… and still a month to go before the shortest day. But even on the gloomiest day there’s a brief photo opportunity in the late afternoon… when the lights go on - in shops, on streets - and the ambient light diminishes. The opportunity may only last half an hour, but it’s always worthwhile to make sure I’m somewhere photogenic at dusk.

Quay Street, Lymington, Hampshire…

Buckler's Hard...

Spent an overcast day at Buckler’s Hard, an 18th century village on the River Beaulieu, where warships for Nelson’s navy were built. I walked along the riverside path to Beaulieu and back, before looking round the Maritime Museum. One exhibit was a Puckle Gun, an early version of the machine gun, invented by James Puckle, and supposedly capable of firing nine rounds per minute.

I read that Puckle demonstrated two versions of the basic design. One, intended for use against Christian enemies, fired conventional round bullets, while the second variant, designed to be used against the Muslim Turks, fired square bullets which were considered to be more damaging and would, according to its patent, convince the Turks of the "benefits of Christian civilization”. The Puckle Gun never achieved mass production. One leaflet of the period sarcastically observed, following the failure of the business venture, that the gun has "only wounded those who hold shares therein”…