There’s just something about Bournemouth that excites me every time when I come around. Similarly as is visiting an old friend that greets you with a bottle of wine instead of tea in the early afternoon (the fun part is clearly that the “early afternoon” can actually be called the late morning). And these type of friends, I would suggest, are the keepers. But hey, that’s my cup of tea, not necessarily should be yours.
So meet Bournemouth. It is about 2 and half an hour ride by a bus full of old people (no one likes them, supposedly), broken AC, which is pretty much the same as hell, except with reverse temperature + funny throat, and smell of the the summer’s favorite – sweat. Definitely not the definitions one would like to delegate for the start of, but gradually it got better when at the end fresh ocean’s breeze sneaked into the wheels of torture and missus I shed a tear of joyfulness.
So let’s start with the first impressions that as a rule so many times really go the wrong way. And obviously as good kid I followed it: at first, I kind of got the feeling ‘ok this one is a bit of a weirdo’ as various gentleman’s wiggle clubs together with ladies’ freakingly twin-ish sense of style (leather jackets n leggings, bitch) or the fact that no one really knows what’s going on in this small city, have offered. But it’s cool, I guess am not the most normal person too, so I just went with it and actually ended up falling in love. Sadly, for the melodrama fans, it is a figurative type of love or as the T-shirt on the most touristic market stool would quote “I ❤ BM” (I just made up the acronym). Anyhow, the sea at night, the stares of the people, the pier with flirty fisherman, the laid-back attitudes, skating culture, 50% of food on Mondays, the mountainy terrains, guys at the cool clothe shop who raise pigeons as a hobby, the open bus that takes you to the creepy island and much more got me to drop the nasty attitude for good.
The moment it all turned 360 degrees was perhaps at Swanage (a.k.a creepy island). We were sitting in front of the ocean, watching the only few things that the scenery has offered : boats, cliffs, waves, while surrealistic sounds coming from the game machines of the ancient “Entertainment World” filled in the air . It had a calm (as if all inhabitants of the town were in rehabilitation period of some sort) but at the same time phantsmagoric feel to it, which lit the sparks. Not to forget, the cliff and the long walk in the forest with the finale of sitting at the prohibited edge and watching the ocean… Perhaps, it all doesn’t make sense, but the place was strange and maybe even clumsy analogously to a flawed person whose personality is helplessly charming. So yeah, unavoidably, I got bewitched.