The Summer We Nearly Completed the South West Coast Path (And Why Autumn Might Be Even Better)
I owe you an apology for the radio silence. Or at least, I would offer one if I meant it. The truth is far less noble: it has been a spectacular summer, and I have spent most of it outdoors rather than indoors typing about being outdoors, which felt like the correct set of priorities at the time. I stand by the decision. The blog can wait. The sunshine, historically, cannot.
Finishing What We Started (Almost)
Back in May 2021, in a fit of ambition we have never regretted, we set off to walk the entire South West Coast Path. Six hundred and thirty miles of clifftop, cove, beach and bay, one determined section at a time. Five years on, we are down to our last two stretches, and if you had told us in 2021 how much this ridiculous, brilliant undertaking would come to mean to us, we would probably have believed you, because we are that sort of people.
This summer we went at it with real intent: six separate trips, chasing good weather and cooler mornings, because walking anything north of twenty-five degrees Celsius is an exercise in slow-motion suffering that no amount of sea view can fully compensate for. Once we crossed into East Devon and Dorset, the drive from home dropped to under three hours, which meant we could dash down, walk a section, sleep, walk another, and be home in time for tea. On the hottest days we were on the path by seven, aiming to be finished before the sun properly meant business.
And what a stretch it has been. The improbably red cliffs and impressive stack at Ladram Bay. The unashamed prettiness of Dartmouth, Sidmouth and Budleigh Salterton. The iconic stone archway of Durdle Door, which photographs simply do not do justice to, whatever your Instagram feed might suggest. The bruised industrial grandeur of Portland. And Chesil Beach, that extraordinary eighteen-mile pebble scar drawn straight across the horizon, backed by pebble dunes that seem to belong to a different coastline entirely.
We now have two walks left: Kimmeridge Bay to Swanage, and then the final leg from Swanage to South Haven Point. Fittingly, we will be based at our own Belvedere Lodge in Swanage for that last push, which feels like exactly the right way to bring five and a half years of walking to a close. If you have never stood at South Haven Point and looked back at the miles you have come, I recommend it. It does something peculiar to your chest.
There is, admittedly, a small cloud on this otherwise gorgeous horizon. What on earth do we do once it is finished? We have had the best summer for walking since 1976, the trail has been the backbone of half a decade of our lives, and once we take that final step we suspect we will feel its absence rather sharply. The plan, such as it is, involves a slap-up celebratory dinner at Rick Stein's restaurant, reached by a short chain ferry hop across the mouth of Poole Harbour from South Haven Point itself. Somewhere between the starter and the third glass of something crisp and white, we intend to plot our next epic adventure. We also intend to work out how we are going to fill this coming autumn and winter, because idle hands and empty diaries are, in our experience, a recipe for trouble.
Which Brings Us Neatly to Autumn and Winter
Here is the thing about the coast in October, November and beyond: everyone assumes it shuts down, wraps itself in a tarpaulin and waits patiently for Easter. Everyone is wrong. Autumn and winter on the Dorset and Cornish coasts are, frankly, when things get properly atmospheric, and considerably quieter, and this is exactly why we will be spending huge chunks of the coming months at our two holiday lets, Belvedere Lodge in Swanage and 6 Porth Sands near Newquay. Here is a flavour of what we get up to, and what you could be doing too, should you fancy joining us in spirit (or, better still, stay at one of these luxury apartments).
The hot chocolate circuit. There is a particular kind of pleasure in a proper hot chocolate on a blustery afternoon, and an even better kind when someone has quietly added a slug of something warming to it. In Porth, Lusty Glaze is our spot of choice, not least because it doubles as one of the finest storm watching perches on the North Cornwall coast; there is genuinely nothing like watching an Atlantic squall roll in while nursing an indulgent drink you didn't strictly need. In Swanage, it is Love Cake every time, where Welsh rarebit paired with a Baileys-laced hot chocolate is the kind of combination that makes you wonder why you ever bothered booking that evening meal you have just planned.
Bracing walks with a reward at the end. From 6 Porth Sands, the stroll along to Watergate Bay for a glass of wine is a proper autumn ritual, wind in your hair and sand somewhere it shouldn't be. From Belvedere Lodge, our equivalent is heading up through Durlston Country Park to the castle, where the view over the Purbeck coastline is spectacular enough to justify the climb, especially with a glass in hand once you arrive. Both routes are proof that the best walks are the ones with a drink waiting at the far end.
A little ancient history either side of the country. Porth Island, reached across its footbridge, holds the remains of an Iron Age promontory fort and delivers a genuinely staggering three-hundred-and-sixty-degree sweep of sea. Corfe Castle, a mere youngster at around a thousand years old, offers something similar in reverse: standing among its ruins looking out across the Purbeck hills is one of those views that never quite loses its shine, however many times you have seen it.
Cinema, two very different ways. Newquay's cinema is sleek, modern, and, crucially, lets you take a drink to your seat, which is precisely the sort of civilised nonsense we approve of. Swanage counters with the Mowlem Centre, a divisive slab of sixties architecture that some locals still haven't forgiven the town for. I am not its biggest admirer either, if I am honest, but the Cellar Bar and the theatre-cum-cinema inside are an absolute joy, particularly when the local school puts on a production. Enthusiasm consistently outguns technique, and it is, without fail, tremendous fun.
Christmas markets, ranked with mild controversy. Swanage's Christmas market punches well above its weight for a small seaside town and is genuinely worth timing a stay around. Newquay's is perfectly pleasant but not quite in the same league, so if you are Cornwall-based over the festive period, it is worth the thirty-minute run to Truro for the proper spectacle.
Cider, eventually. Healey's Cider Farm sits a mere twenty minutes from 6 Porth Sands, and despite having been within striking distance so many times, we have somehow never made the trip. That changes this autumn. A tour, a tasting, and a glass of their famous Rattler at the end sounds like exactly the sort of afternoon that requires no further justification.
Why This Is Your Cue, Not Just Ours
We tell you all this not purely to make you jealous, though a little envy never hurt anyone. We tell you because both Belvedere Lodge and 6 Porth Sands are sitting there right now, fully equipped and entirely ready for exactly this kind of autumn and winter escape, whether that means storm-watching with a fortified hot chocolate, a bracing coastal stroll rewarded with a decent Malbec, or simply curling up somewhere comfortable while the weather does its worst outside the window. The coast does not stop being beautiful just because the ice cream vans have gone home for the season; if anything, it becomes more dramatic, more atmospheric, and considerably easier to get a table at the good restaurants.
Whether you fancy the Jurassic Coast drama of Swanage, with its castle, its coast path, and its surprisingly excellent Christmas market, or the wilder Atlantic energy of Porth, with its storm watching, its cider farm, and its beach that empties out beautifully once summer crowds disperse, now is genuinely the moment to book. Prices tend to be kinder out of season, the light is better for photography than anyone gives it credit for, and you will have earned every last drop of that hot chocolate.
As for us, once the final section of coast path is done and the celebratory dinner has been eaten, we will be back with more updates on where our next epic adventure might take us, and no doubt further reports on what we have discovered around Swanage and Porth in the meantime. We cannot promise any of it will amount to genius. But we can promise it will be worth reading over a hot chocolate of your own, ideally one with something extra in it.
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