Today was an indifferent day weatherwise - it couldn't quite make its mind up whether to rain or not . On the deserted promenade a few solitary couples put up umbrellas and then put them down again donned raincoats and then shed them . One lonesome swimmer crossed the bay and I thought not for me .
Later on this afternoon the clouds began to lift and cracks of blue creased the sky.We set off for the harbour or Cobb as it is known .I expect a lot of you have seen "The French Lieutenant's Woman " which was filmed in Lyme and there is an iconic image of Meryl Streep wrapped in a black cloak standing right on the end of the wall which reaches furthest out to sea .Actually it was one of the fishermen ginger beard and all , singularly lacking in teeth and not what you would call a striking man - health and safety had prevailed .I am not sure his health prevailed as he was stood many a pint on the story !
The Cobb was originally built in the 15th century of timber and was then rebuilt with granite in the eighteenth century and it reaches out its two arms into the English Channel to protect the town from the westerlies and give safe anchorage to ships . In its heyday it dealt with more tonnage than Liverpool did at its busiest . Today is a different story - a small number of fishing boats and a large number of plastic yachts and motor boats are mored in ranks in the harbour . It is still a picturesque sight as often the hulls are different colours and the reflections in the rippling water give a myriad of patterns .That coupled with the tinny sound of the stays rattling against the masts make the it all very atmospheric .
Today the weekend sailors are arriving getting busy on their boats -unhooking things, and doing all things nautical . There is a distinct difference between those who have yachts and those who have motorboats . The yachtsmen are blue roll necked heavy knit jerseys and bleached trousers and the motormen are designer labelled and immaculate deck shoes and they seem to view each other with deep suspicion .
I managed to wheel V to the end of the Cobb where the trawlers are moored and we passed the nets strung over giant washing lines and there was the distinctive perfume of a working port-deisel mixed with a decidedly fishy aroma .From the end we could look across the water and see the town spilling down the hillside to the sea .Along the front I can see Library Cottage waiting for our return .
Our adventure is over- will we manage to return - sadly I doubt it .
