Umpteen Tanks and a Crumbling Castle

 After brunch at Kimmeridge Bay, it was on to Bovington Tank Museum. The last time I'd been here had been with my parents and brother when I was a child. I have a memory of huge tanks, some that we could climb on and being driven in the back of an armored vehicle up a very steep dusty hill, when we'd all ended up with grubby, brown faces afterwards. We'd loved it. I couldn't wait to see it again.

We had to take a different route because the road the GPS wanted to take me on had been closed by the MOD, due to firing practice. Lulworth has been the home of the Armoured Fighting Vehicles Gunnery School since 1916 and was the birthplace of the Sherman Firefly, the first Allied tank that could penetrate the German tanks in WWII. We even passed a tank pulling out of a T-Junction as we drove along a country lane, they were likely off to get a cream tea. But this detour meant we passed a gorgeous country manor, which we stopped to admire. We arrived at the tank museum, and I got a kick out of parking the car behind an armoured personnel carrier. As soon as we walked inside the museum, I didn't recognize anything; it had undergone some extensive upgrades.

There's over 300 hundred tanks here; the place is vast, but the best part of it was we were visiting on a weekday, so there weren't too many visitors. Some of the exhibit rooms we had to ourselves, which meant we didn't get in the way of people with our cameras, and vice versa. It's said by many that this is the finest tank museum in the world, and although I didn't take loads of photos, because I was enjoying looking around so much, the website is extremely informative with plenty of pictures and videos. I've always been fascinated by these hulking metal vehicles. I remembered watching Battle of the Bulge as a kid and being terrified by the squeaking of their wheels and the deep rumbling of their treads and engines. And that gun turret swinging round, pointing determinedly and decisively at its target made my blood run cold. Yet there was something challenging inside me that thrilled me to stand in front of this huge hulk and stare down the gun barrel. These things are awesome.

We had fun fooling around too. I pretended to be caught under the wheels of a tank, and then in a war trench area, there were vests on hangers, and helmets, for people to take photos. I rather liked my patriotic pose, but Elliott looked pretty mean and psychotic charging on his horse! There were videos games that could be played and displays with buttons and handles to be turned. Some of the tanks could be climbed inside, showing how tight the space was in some of them, having to negotiate a way around what would have been very hot and noisy engines.

In many rooms, some very realistic scenes had been built, battle scenes, dugouts, trenches, and even campfire settings. We rounded a corner and came face to face with 2 gunners behind rolls of barbed wire, triggering a sensor, that set off their machine gun. The loud reports made me jump out of my skin! 

There were a few areas hidden by screens that were being set up for future displays, but this place was vast. We were on a tight schedule so didn't linger too long anywhere in the museum, but we were amazed when we emerged from the building and discovered we'd spent over 2 hours in there. Apparently Rudyard Kipling visited Bovington in 1923 and saw the remnants of tanks left over from WWI, and suggested a museum should be built. So a shed was set up to house the relics and it finally opened to the public in 1947. It's come a long way since then, and I wish we'd been able to see the outside demonstrations that take place in warmer months. But regardless, it was wonderful to revisit this phenomenal museum which had always been such a fond memory since childhood.

Our last visit of the day was Corfe Castle, another place I remembered from childhood, but had never been inside. 4 years ago, it had been covered in scaffolding, undergoing cleaning and repairs, but today it was standing proud on the skyline, and we got there with just an hour to visit it before closing time. Owned by The National Trust, it dates back to the 11th century, and was one of the first to be built of stone, local grey Purbeck limestone, (considered the finest limestone in England), in a time when castles were usually built from wood and earth. Corfe means cutting, or gap. Built by William the Conquerer, it had a great defense position up on the hill, guarding the main route through the Purbeck Hills, and many of the arrow slits are still there in the walls. King John kept his crown jewels there, and it has a similar tradition as the Tower of  London, where ravens nest close by, with local legend, saying the same as the Tower, that if they leave, the castle would crumble. A lot of the castle though, was destroyed during the Civil War, orders came from Parliament, (it was regarded as a threat), and many of the locals used the stone to build their homes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We walked quickly to the top. The guide had suggested we concentrate on getting up there first, and taking photos on the way down; it was good advice. Once again, our timing was perfect for the photos, the stone was highlighted with defiant bright bursts from a setting sun, with contrasting shadows where its rays couldn't reach. There were a few other visitors, but it wasn't crowded, although Elliott did have a problem with a man in a bright orange hoodie that kept walking into his photos, which I found funny. The views were magnificent, bright emerald grass and trees barely showing any signs of autumn, even though we were in November. It was warm, with a light breeze, and this would've been a perfect setting for a picnic with a bottle of wine, if it had been allowed.

 

 

We were fortunate to see the last train of the day pass by from the Swanage Railway, tooting a loud goodnight as it passed, and billowing clouds of steam. I visited the station 4 years ago, but it was shut down, so it was lovely to see it running today. The line had fallen into disrepair through lack of use and was going to be dismantled in the 1970's, but a public outcry led to its restoration, and it now offers several rides a year, only because its infrastructure can't maintain daily trains. There's now a museum, and several money raising events a year.

We walked slower on the way back down, the sun now having dropped below the horizon. We had taken our photos just in time. Passing a pretty cottage with a waterfall, we ended up in Corfe Castle village, where I was lucky enough to catch the sweet shop before it closed and buy the last of their Winter Mixture sweets, which are an acquired taste, but I love them. I even had time to run to the post office and write a quick postcard and mail it to a friend in America, and then we walked back to the empty car park to drive back to Mum's house and meet her and Greg. A long, busy, yet extraordinary day, steeped in history and natural beauty.