Bournemouth

Google Maps, or more specifically the directions part, has no idea what to make of Bournemouth. The streets as perceived by a person on the ground are very different to what it thinks is going on, so it’s directions tended to tell you to go the wrong way. Me, I just followed the mapped route and ignored the times it said I should turn left to go right.

The pedestrian mall area was amazing for this, because there are no street names, so the directions are even more useless. On that note; If you’re giving the street address of a hotel, the house numbers don’t help if everything is a hotel and nothing has a number. ( To be fair, that’s partly my fault; I overshot based on where the map said the place was, and didn’t think it might be behind me and on the other side of the street )

The Silver How (no idea why it’s called that) is a hotel in the AirBnB sense; A code for the front door, a combination lockbox outside your room with your room key in it, no reception desk, and no sign of anyone who isn’t a guest.

Or, indeed, of anyone at all. I occasionally heard other people, and some rooms had TV noise as you passed by, but the only times I saw another person in that place were;

  • A builder leaving at the same time as me. ( They had some building work going on, which might have been nice to mention when I booked )
  • Someone entering as I left after ‘checkout’, where checking out means putting your key back in the lockbox.
  • A glimpse of someone on the landing of the floor above.
  • A couple on the other half of the balcony.

If you’re getting a Doctor Who/Sapphire & Steel vibe, don’t worry; I got it too. I remember noticing that the place was in fantastic condition inside, but as time went by I started noticing scuff marks on the wall, and then some inexplicable nails in the wall at regular intervals, and then a giant watermark on the ceiling of the room. Had those things always been there? Was the hotel jumping forward through moments in time? Was anything watching me from the mostly bricked up fireplace in the room?

The whole area seemed to be Hotels or B&Bs, some big and modern, and some very much old and traditional, or at least looking that way from the outside. Didn’t see anything recognisable as a house, but that said I wouldn’t have spotted the difference between a hotel and an apartment building.
The place across the street seemed to constantly have multiple big-ass tour coaches outside, so I’m assuming they’re part of a package holiday system, aimed at the silver-hair set from the look of the folks going in & out of the place.

At the end of the street were the West Cliffs, with a nice clifftop park & some pretty awesome views.
Also goats.

So, for the working days, I worked. I’d have a bit of a wander down the hill ( the clifftop path was way nicer than the road route ) to get lunch, then wander down again after work.
I’d been told about the bizarre Deskdog co-working space offered by the Brewdog pub chain, so I tried it out on day 2; £10 for a table from 12:00 to 17:00, unlimited tea/coffee, and a pint at the end of the day, though I never bothered with the pint. It worked pretty well, though the situation would probably be different for someone who drinks more than me, and much of the time I was outnumbered by the staff.

This was a better hotel to work from than the Canterbury one, partially because the room was better suited to it & was a bit more comfortable, but maybe also because the town was just quieter & more relaxing, so I enjoyed myself more?
Hard to say for sure.

I can report that having balcony doors you can open for airflow & general ambiance is something I like, and that sitting there in front of the open doors ( on the floor, using the bed as a backrest ) with a hot drink while it absolutely pisses down with rain outside is something entirely awesome.

For the things I did?
Mostly wandering around in a “where does this path go?” sort of way, and doing the occasional tourist thing on the weekend.

I’d spotted The Mary Shelley on the way to the hotel, but it was a few days later that I found out why it’s called that; Mary Shelley is buried in the churchyard opposite.
Yes, I visited the grave. No, I didn’t take a picture.

My initial thought on seeing the sign was “tell me that you’ve never read Frankenstein without saying that you’ve never read Frankenstein”.
Then I thought “Neither have you”.

Rode the Funicular Railway/Cliff Lift, partially for the experience, and partially because that climb up from town/beach level gets old when you’re doing it multiple times a day.

Went out onto the pier a few times, once by buying a ticket, then again after the ticket office had closed.
Unless the 3 or 4 funfair rides appeal, not worth buying the ticket; The view’s the same.

Walked along the beach a fair bit, sometimes as a ‘going for a walk’ thing, sometimes because I’d taken one of the paths down to it & was walking along.
Somewhere in the distance of this shot is a chine ( stream-carved gully ) which was also the end of the section of park by the hotel, so you could walk along & down & back. Lots of little seaside huts, mostly locked up, though I did see a few in use over the weekend; A wide variety of beach stuff, chairs, tables, … all the sorts of things one might want at the seaside.

My various thoughts were “are they habitable?” ( not really, and you’re not allowed to ), followed by “if you could fit one out with power & internet & maybe an inner door with a window, what an amazing office shed that would be”.

Over the weekend I did one of those hop-on/hop-off bus tours.
Honestly, I liked the riding around looking at the view and listening to the recorded commentary bit the most, though I did spend a few hours in the nearby town of Poole; Nice, in the same way that every town with a pedestrianised area to which they try to attract tourists is nice, though Poole does also have a working harbour.

Overall, I enjoyed Bournemouth.
It has a certain “this place was awesome in the 50’s” vibe, and there are areas of the pedestrianised/tourist zone which are clearly not responding well to civic improvements, unless boarded up chop windows is a new architectural style.
The park running through the town centre is very nice to walk through, and the beach/promenade is good; I liked it there.
Not sure I’d up and move there, but I had a more relaxing time than I did in Canterbury.


Leaving On A Monday is where things got a little interesting.
I had to go to London for the Esri UK Annual Conference, and at the time I booked I hadn’t figured out that checking out on a workday and traveling in the evening creates the problem of where you work from during the day. My solution was a bit odd, perhaps, but it worked almost all the day.

  • Start work early, having packed everything but the work stuff
  • Stop work maybe 15 minutes before the 10:00 checkout, pack up, and go
    ( putting the key back in the lockbox )
  • Walk over to The Mary Shelly to get breakfast & work from there for a few hours
    ( it was fairly empty, so I wasn’t taking up a table, but nobody seemed to care )
  • At 12:00, head to Brewdog and work until 17:00

Where the wheels came off was on the post-work walk to the station.
I’d done the walk yesterday to pick up my ticket & burn off some nervous energy, so I knew the way, and was confident that I’d do it in 20-25 minutes.
Well, that didn’t happen.

What did happen was that maybe 2 minutes into the walk I got hit with a massive cramp/knot in my right calf, to the extent that I really couldn’t take a step with it. Stretching it out helped a bit, trying to gently walk it out helped a bit, fairly aggressively stretching it out at multiple points along the way helped more, but it probably took 40-50 minutes to make that journey, and I was in a fair amount of pain and a foul mood for most of it.
( No, I don’t know why I didn’t double back and find a taxi – I clearly wasn’t thinking clearly )

Made it with time to spare for my train, though the overbridge in the station wasn’t much fun.
Kept trying to stretch out the muscle on the journey, but the same “can barely walk at first” thing was happening when I got to London: Again, it worked itself out to the point that I could walk normally, if a bit painfully, by the end of the trip to the hotel.
( Again, I can’t account for why I didn’t just take a damn taxi )

My theory for this at the time was a bit of dehydration and too much walking the day before, so when I got to the hotel I drank as much water as I could stomach.
It’s only afterwards that I remembered that these symptoms, while being the sort of thing that can happen with dehydration/electrolyte issues, are also really close to how I found out about my spinal injury; A sudden and persisting cramp in that same place.
Fortunately, the first theory looks to have been the right one.


As a final bit; Gen Con is fast approaching ( in August ), and I saw the opportunity to take an “I’m outside the hotel; Where is everyone?” picture.