I've had a number of really great holidays in Dorset and one very disturbing one.

I recall a stay with my parents and sisters at the White Hart Inn at Beaminster. IIRC it was the first time I saw a Morecambe & Wise show on TV, in B&W in the lounge there. The owners were new and had just repatriated from Rhodesia and had a rather fierce Rhodesian Ridgeback dog. One day I heard barking out in the central yard (it was an old coaching inn) and looking down from a landing window I saw my younger sister, alone, with the dog stalking her with hackles raised. Luckily the publican had heard the row and strode out, grabbed the dog's collar and dragged it away. More disturbing still was the gorgeous room attendant who made my bed every day. A young mans dream when she bent over the bed to tuck in the far side.

But none of these things were the disturbing holiday.

Years later, with my own young family, we booked a bungalow on a country estate somewhere in the depths of Dorset. It was a lovely spot, the weather was fabulous and the bungalow excellently fitted out. It was surrounded by fields with the estate mansion about a quarter of a mile away. We were shown in by a nice enough guy who worked for the estate. All was fine, except, except, I had an uneasy feeling about the place. I couldn't place it, I couldn't fathom what it was, but I felt uncomfortable, unsafe somehow.

Over 3 or 4 days the feeling grew stronger, so much so that I broached the subject with Chris, expecting her to tell me to pull myself together and carry on and enjoy our last few days holiday. Surprisingly she said the exact opposite. She too had been having dark forebodings ever since we arrived. There and then we decided to cut the holiday short and drove home that night. IIRC on the way home a Mr Lineker scored a goal in a World Cup somewhere.

I've never been able to rationalise what I felt on that holiday, but the spooky thing was that Chris felt the same too.

Hi Pepe

It's always good to hear that you are not alone in this world..........................................Kath and I felt exactly the same this week when we took the cover off our Troll after after nearly 9 months of us not using it.

We ended up laughing at our collective lack of memory & shared brain fog. Age is a terrible thief.

Things are gradually coming back to us, with a few more days left before we travel

MikeT

We've just returned after 2 weeks away. The covers went on Oct 2019 and came off about 3 weeks ago. In the two weeks away I think I've had more Eriba kisses than in the previous 4 years - talk about relearning everything!! Keep your head down........

Effing Sodbury...
Aah, memories....

I lost a self tapper, somewhere round Frampton Cotterell, It was my favourite one too.

That’s just down the road from me. Any idea where and I’ll go and look for it? I doubt yours is in Pete’s tyre, it’s uphill from here to Chipping Sodbury. I know how attached one can get to these things, I have an M5 nut I’ve become very fond of.
I went to school in Chipping Sodbury and still live just 3 miles away.

You couldn't mistake my one, clean, elegant, BZP 1"x No.8 PZ Easydrive with the most gorgeous flange head imaginable.