Does everyone have that special place – or is it just me? Mine is Lyme Regis in Dorset. Going there makes me happy, walking on the famous seawall, The Cobb, makes me feel at peace with the world and leaving gives a tug to the heart that’s painful.
Lyme Regis – ah Lyme Regis! How can a place wiggle its way into your heart and stay there, no matter to where it’s compared?
Most years, since I was five, I’ve gone to Lyme. Sometimes for a full-blown holiday, sometimes just a long weekend, occasionally only for the day. This summer I managed a quick stopover, just for the night. I was desperate to get there, as I missed a trip last year due to having the puppy. I was concerned about how he’d cope with such a long journey but also how anywhere we stayed would cope with him (and his chewing and mess!)
It was busy. The weather was warm and, after the long and bitter winter we’ve endured, people obviously wanted to get on the beach and make the most of the sun. Even though I prefer Lyme in its quieter months, I still got pleasure from being there. The sky seems more brilliant, the air milder and, for a landlocked midlander like me, it’s exhilarating to be by the sea.
But why has it such a hold over me?
It’s just a seaside town, albeit one with rich literary connections. Jane Austen famously set her pivotal scene in Persuasion on the seawall; Tennyson loved it, as did Beatrix Potter, and John Fowles encapsulated its charm in The French Lieutenant’s Woman. Even so, it’s still just a seaside town, with a harbour, the usual smattering of amusements and beach huts. And there are some drawbacks! Some shops and restaurants have been known to close for lunch, even in the high season, the locals aren’t all that friendly. As for parking – it’s a nonsense – and expensive when you eventually find a space. Nearby Seaton works so much harder to attract the tourist.
But it still has a pull. If I haven’t been there for a while, I get twitchy. I need my Lyme ‘fix’.
Over the years, I’ve watched as different groups have ‘discovered’ it. For a while, it was populated by surfing dudes, with seal-like wetsuits and bleached hair. When the pound was weak, the French, Dutch and Germans came over on the ferry connection. For a while, ‘Chelsea tractors’ towed expensive motor boats out of the harbour. And it’s always had its fans with the family holiday buckets and spades brigade.
But I’m selfish. I like it best early in the morning in autumn, when the crowds have gone, the tide is high, and I can walk on my beloved Cobb, dodge the sea spray and dream I’m Sarah Woodruff. Then the air is clear, the views across to Portland Bill are good and I have it to myself.
For more information on Lyme Regis and the Jurassic Coast see:
www.lymeregis.com
www.lymeregis.org