Swanage is a town torn from a picture book on the Isle of Purbeck: loveliness and vulgarity both. It is famous for fossils, Purbeck marble, a dangerous-looking small theme park, and Punch and Judy. My husband is very attached to Swanage, because it exists in a state of 1952 – in homage to this, it has a branch line with a station from The Railway Children. In the summer, on the beach, you see fat sunburnt people with handkerchiefs on their heads. I didn’t think they existed anymore: I thought they were all dead.
Some parts of Dorset have gentrified, though this doesn’t really describe what has happened to Sand-banks, the Bishop’s Avenue of the coast. That is closer to calamity, or invasion by space aliens who love concrete and glass. I can’t bear to look at Sandbanks, so I can’t say if it has good restaurants.
This is generous food. The rib-eye is as good as can be found
Lulworth Cove is as eerie as ever: you will get pub food here, near necrotic fairy cottages (all holiday lettings now, of course).
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