We travelled to Sandbanks in Poole, with the tandem in the
car, in time for the 2 pm ferry to Brownsea. We gobbled down our home made
sandwiches as we had less time than we thought. We’d driven around looking for
a car parking space and there seemed to be a queue for the official park by the
ferry so we’d ended up in a £8 for all day park , a mile away. Actually because
we used a card the machine took £10! We think it would be better to park in
Poole and take the ferry from there instead, though it is longer on the water
and a more expensive trip.
When we got to the
ferry we found that the queue of cars, not quite so long now, was actually for
the car chain-ferry to Swanage and there were some spaces in the car park after
all.
Our tickets were £6.50 each return. The wind was cold and it
was 11 degrees. There were plenty of families going over- to be expected given
the dry weather and the National Trust were doing some special events for
children like an Easter egg hunt and face painting.
The journey of about ½ mile took around 10 minutes in a yellow
cruise boat, quite small but still took over a hundred people. We had a boat
with toilets and a bar. As we neared Brownsea it became a little rougher and it
took a while to moor the boat.
People without
National Trust membership had to pay a fee on landing and everyone passes
through a reception area with a compulsory shop for on the way out. There are
toilets here.
We walked down by the wetland and Lagoon by reed beds. We
couldn’t see many birds from the hide but then we didn’t have binoculars. Some
people were using it for a wind free place to eat sandwiches. It is apparently
a good place to see avocets which winter here.
There were paths all round the island and we reckoned we’d
walked about 3 miles though it did feel longer. There were lovely views across
the sea to Dorset and the island had marshland, wonderful firs and signs of
spring were well and truly there like the emerging pussy willow. All around was
last year’s browned bracken and we wondered how we would pick out the red/
brown squirrels of which there are 200.
We headed back towards Middle Street a broad path in between
reeds and woodland. A long wall with vents and a fireplace set within it is the
remains of a vinery here. Later we came upon a cubed brick building with
letterbox opening and ventilation holes labelled bat hibernium for pipistrelles
mainly.
We passed a couple of women trying to push a pushchair up a
rocky hill while the husband sat on a fence at the top taking their photos. He
did come down to help when our assistance was declined. The terrain undulated
quite a bit, with trees left where they fell to nature, some full of woodpecker
holes. I happened to glance down and all around our feet were huge ants
scurrying in all directions. We must have trod on some already! Further down
the hill were holes in the sand about ½ in diameter with more ant scouts
exuding from them.
We passed a fantastic play area made out of fallen timber by
imaginative Rangers.
Up above the beach at one point there was a cliff made of
golden shingle and shell, exposed and crumbly, bright against the forest background.
A village, Maryland, used to exist on the island but after
the inhabitants left it soon became derelict and in need of demolishing so in
the 1920s the military blew it up. The rubble remains though and the
foundations show where each house once stood.
Colonel Petrie Waugh who bought the island in the mid 19th
century constructed Maryland for his china clay workers and a 3 storey pottery
was built on the south- shore. It was called Maryland after his wife and the
neo gothic church he built was called St. Mary. The pottery employed more than
200 workers, many rowing over from Studland every day. After 5 years however the
colonel was bankrupt and the island was sold in the 1870s to an MP who improved
the land for agriculture. Most villagers worked for him and in the castle.
Another MP bought the island and castle to have it burn down 5 years later.
Then came the daffodil farm run by the villagers which seemed to be a happy
time with plenty of music until the war took most of the workers. The island
was owned then by the Van Raaltes who had shooting parties and other social
functions filling the castle with many fine things.
The last private owner of Brownsea was Mrs. Bonham Christie (1928)
who was a recluse preferring to live simply and not in the castle. She allowed
the island to go back to nature through neglect of the daffodil fields and her
strong animal welfare ethic allowed the animals to roam wild and fishing was
banned. In 1961 the island was put on the market to pay for her death duties.
The treasury took the island and the National Trust took over responsibility
for it. Many businesses helped especially John Lewis who repaired the castle
and now rent it from the National Trust for its employees.
South of the island we came to the outdoor centre with
Trading Post and campsite. There were tents there and activities are offered
such as orienteering, archery and water sports. These were all down in a dip
and blended in well with the surroundings. A stone near here commemorated the
first Scout camp of 20 boys brought over by Lord Baden Powell in the 1920s.
Not far away by the path is what looks like an old war
bunker. We had read that German Bombers were duped into thinking Brownsea was
Poole by illuminating it. Bomb craters are said to be all over the island but
we weren’t aware of any as we walked- nature has well healed the scars.
We passed the daffodil fields that once grew for mainland
marketing. You can see the ridges where they were planted, mostly grass now, but
there are some larger areas of leafy clumps that may have had flowers earlier
despite the tops of the leaves being nibbled by rabbits. There were no dead
heads though! We didn’t see any sign of rabbits or deer- no droppings.
Later we were lucky enough to watch a red squirrel travel
from tree to tree, coming close to us. Next we saw a spotted woodpecker after
hearing it tantalisingly nearby for some time. We were drawing near to the
visitor centre which may encourage the wild life with tit bits.
We walked on to the church, small and dark and built in
1854. The scouting flags stand within and also a marble tomb inscribed with the
name Bonham but rather large for the size of the church. The churchyard sadly
has a grave of a teenager who lived and then died here in the early 2000s.
Opposite is a green where today a marquee houses face -painters. Children were
decorated exquisitely with humming birds, rabbits and more. Peacocks roam and
call around this area.
We didn’t go in the visitor centre which shows an
introductory DVD but headed back to the quay via the National Trust Shop.
Waiting in the queue that quickly bent back on itself due to the numbers was
the worst bit of the day as the wind was perishing and there was no way to get
out of it without losing your position in the queue. The boat was really late
and when it arrived they took ages trying to secure it. The sea wasn’t rough.
There were way too many people for the little boat although we were lucky to
get on at least safety wasn’t compromised. We stood up on the way back not
understanding why turn around can’t be quicker for such a short journey.
After a 20 minute walk we were back at the car. We were
staying the night near Southampton in yet another Premier Inn- one of the
nicest. It had recently been refurbished and was very comfortable. We ate at
the Horns Inn pub as its menu looked really good with plenty of vegetables. It
was only just reopened and with Easter deals it was very busy with loud jolly
men mostly. It was good beer and they did a special gluten free menu.
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