Notes From A Small Island

The author travels to Salisbury via bus, encountering a market in the town square filled with unattractive objects. He notes that some of the architecture in the square has also been altered, covered with cheap tile. He laments the lack of attention to preservation he believes has become the norm in Britain. He does admit, however, that Salisbury remains better preserved than many other small towns, and its cathedral remains one of the most impressive buildings in England.

Bryson intends to travel to Stonehenge the next day, so he visits the Stonehenge Gallery to brush up on its history. He marvels at the effort and ingenuity it must have taken to erect such a structure without the benefit of any modern technology. He plans to travel by bus and rail to Wiltshire and Dorset after his visit to Stonehenge, then on to Avebury and Lackock and beyond. He is informed that such an itinerary will be difficult if not impossible, as public transportation has been cut to many areas.

His impression of Stonehenge is different from that of his first visit, back in the 1970s. A barrier has been erected to keep people from running amongst the stones of the monument, thus preserving its ancient beauty. Still, after staring at stones for long enough, he admits, the view gets rather tedious. He returns to the bus station.

Bryson confesses to a dislike of beaches, though he makes “an exception for Studland Beach” (92). The weather is nice, and he is fulfilling a long-delayed promise to walk the Dorset coast. After a close encounter with a dog whose curiosity verges on aggression, he walks on to Handfast Point. He notes the presence of benches along the way, indicative of the innate thoughtfulness of the British. He also notes the presence of many landmarks: One could travel forever and not find all of them.

While wandering, he finds himself at Corfe Castle, an oft-visited castle that was vandalized during the English Civil War (a series of wars that took place between 1642 and 1651). The fragments of the castle are displayed in much of the local architecture.

He decides to stay at a nice hotel for the evening, enjoying some decidedly modern food, though the dessert course reverts back to tradition. Bryson suggests that some things are sacred to most Britons, pudding being one of them.

He continues his journey up the Dorset coast, overlooking Lulworth and trying to make it to Kimmeridge for some refreshment. He finally finds a vendor on the path selling Panda Cola, which is quite different from American sodas. He makes his way to Tyneham, a village that was evacuated during World War II, never to be repopulated. At last, he makes it to Lulworth.

Bryson compares the village of Lulworth to the seaside towns he once read about in the Ladybird children’s books, a series of innocuous adventures published in the 1950s and 1960s. However, Lulworth is not as he remembers it. It is dominated by a parking lot, and its establishments are grim and dirty. The food is awful. He vows “never to return” (105).

The next day, he walks in the rain to Weymouth. Ultimately, the walk is worth it, as he enjoys Weymouth much more than Lulworth. While it does not meet the standards of a tourist attraction, at least it maintains its Georgian-era history.

He takes a cab to Abbotsbury, where he can continue his walk along Chesil Beach. Entering a pub at West Bay, he witnesses a fashionable crowd eating excellent food with good wine and great service. When he is done with his meal, he decides to take a bus to Lyme Regis.

He spends the morning in Lyme Regis before taking a bus to Exeter. He finds the city unlovely, made of concrete with confusing roadways, though the cathedral offers a respite. He takes a train to Barnstaple, rolling through the lush countryside. Once in Barnstaple, however, he finds little to keep his interest, so he enquires about buses to nearby locations, only to be disappointed by how few options there are. Eventually, he realizes he must return to Exeter to make any transit connections. Once there, he takes the “first train to anywhere” (119), in this case, Weston-super-Mare.

He begins the chapter by meditating on happiness: Everyone should feel happy because they are alive—unless they happen to be stuck in Weston-super-Mare on a gloomy evening. He finds the town depressingly similar to every other town of its size, with the same chain stores and restaurants. His visit is also marred by a downpour, rather than the usual English drizzle. He takes refuge in an arcade, playing games until the rain lets up. As he walks to his hotel, he is drenched by the splash from a passing car.

He bangs loudly on the door of his hotel, which has been locked even though it is only nine o’clock in the evening. When the proprietor finally appears, Bryson employs some vulgar language and insults to express his dismay. The next morning, however, the proprietor is nothing but polite to the author. Bryson feels some embarrassment and chalks it up to the British sense of propriety.

He decides that Weston is much more attractive in the daylight. He takes a train through the Wye Valley, looking for Tintern Abbey (he remembers it differently than his first encounter). He walks from the Wye into the countryside, spotting a place named King Arthur’s Cave on his walking map: It is unspoiled by tourism, just a small cave carved into a cliff face. Deciding to take a shortcut, he slips and tumbles down a hill, almost falling off the cliff into the river below. He retraces his steps, then slowly makes his way down to the river, where the natural beauty is unparalleled.