Visting England | Isle of Portland

Chesil Beach is a thin spit of land, constructed almost entirely of shingle, connecting the Isle of Portland with Weymouth on the Dorset coast. It's a windswept barren couple of miles, made for walkers, not bathers; fishermen and kite-surfers, not bucket and spade wielders.

On either side, the mainland and the island tower up from the sea, sheltering their inhabitants from the elements. Here, on the beach, people hunker down into their coats, peeking out from behind binoculars and kite strings, staring out across the marshland to study the birds.

On a clear day, the glaring sun beats down, drying the ground and crisping the grass, while its warmth is swept away by the relentless wind. The only shade in sight provided by a single brick wall protruding from the shingle. Running to shoulder height, before dropping away to nothing, each brick of the wall is twisted, the mortar broken and crumbling. Tall grass hides in its shaded side, climbing the wall and helping to eat the mortar that supports it.

This was as far as we explored; this wall and an ice-cream. We should have explored Portland - the castle, the lighthouse the numerous pubs - but it's a long drive from the Cornish coast to the Jurassic, navigating hills, towns, villages, and a high moorland that disappeared into a cloud when it met the sea. It's a long drive too back home, across the New Forest and out through the centre of London.

Portland can now join the list of English places I want to visit again and most definitely should. Whether that long list will ever grow any shorter remains to be seen.

A trip down to Brighton

Why, when there is so much great stuff to see and photograph in Brighton, did I decided to lead this post with a picture of a coffee shop table?

Scroll down a little more and you'll see.

The weather in Brighton was picture perfect when we arrived on the Friday evening. The orange glow of the setting sun casting the promenade in some amazing colours. You can't see the wind though, and that night it blew it's hardest to deliver us some rain.

Proper rain. Proper English rain. A thin drizzle that soaks you through (cheers Peter). So, in true British style, we stepped out into it and ran like cowards between different coffee shops.

That's why most of my pictures are indoors. That, and the fact that I take an awful lot of square shots on my mobile, which don't suit the landscape of my camera shots. Oh well - blogger in training, I suppose.

We'd come down to Brighton in a Citroën - the brilliantly named Citroën C4 Cactus. Thanks to the guys at Citroën for that, but this trip (like most) really wasn't about the journey; instead, it's was about the destination.

And that was Brighton.

It's a great place. Full of tiny coffee shops, restaurants that wouldn't look out of place in East London, and mile after mile of camper vans - one for every arcade machine on the pier.

I made that up, but there are a lot.

Even in a full blown English 'storm', the lure of the place sees you outside, soaked threw, popping into this shop and that, mainly just to dry off.

I'll leave the real blogging duties up to Mat. He's the one with the knowledge, the eye for a photograph, and the serious write-up full of useful menswear tips for anyone visiting the city. I'll just mention the Toy Museum - a place you'd be crazy to miss out on and one that could probably tempt you to eBay to search out some childhood memories at a bargain price.

Thanks again to Citroën for the car. It certainly turned some heads and we couldn't have made the trip to Brighton without it!

Image: My Instagram (mostly).

A little closer to London: visit the East London Liquor Company.