Drama in Broadchurch Land

In Dorset, the A35 road sweeps up over Askers to reveal the most beautiful view of all.

After looking to the left and the sweep of the Jurassic Coast, the corner of your right eye is drawn to Eggardon and the lush hinterland, with Lewesdon and Pilsdon - the twin peaks known to sailors as the Cow and Calf - Coney's Castle and Lambert's Castle acting like pulsating echoes in the distance.

And the electricity pylons march like giants through Narnia, giving perspective to a landscape so dear to me I almost cry.

There is a sense of drama in the air.

And then down to West Bay, to check on the boat, a pizza to share at Ellipse and then a look at some of the locations for the hit ITV series Broadchurch as a real-life SoCo gathers clues next door after a drugs bust.

 

Waiter, waiter, there's a body in my soup.

It's a strange experience, because not long ago this was my manor.

We wind our way back to Lush Places, that Brigadoon village in Jack and the Beanstalk land twixt Cow and Calf. The place I love.

It is overcast but the flowers are out on Bluebell Hill.

And what is this? More drama, right in the heart of the village. The sheep have escaped to a place where they may not safely graze. They have taken over the village green.

A large and skittish ewe is seen eyeing up the play fort. What fun. And then the farmer arrives to round them up.

Two circuits of the village later, with cars stopped and residents lending a hand, the sheep are back where they belong: the churchyard, where they are making a jolly good job of keeping the grass down.

The farmer waves at us through the tell-tale hole, the signs of sheepness right there on the wire. They can't wriggle out of this one. Their wool is there for all to see.

So the local accountant fashions a barrier out of a nearby road sign and places it in the hole until repairs are carried out. The sheep look at us, disgusted, before going back to their nibbling.

Ah, Lush Places. Such drama, such high drama. Never a dull moment.

'Do you like it out there, then?' the farmer says from behind the churchyard railings, as if he's talking about us standing in the road rather than our decision to jack it all in for a big fat Greek gap year.

We tell him that we do indeed like being in Corfu, although I admit I am homesick.

'Well,' he says. sagely. 'I've been around the world a bit. But I don't think you can beat it here.'

After dinner for thirteen at the Putters, surrounded by my friends, and then a party in the pub where Mamma Mia's husband is taught how to use a set of golf clubs, I'm inclined to agree with him.

I even manage a hug with Posh Totty. I have not seen her for a hundred years.

My brother and sisters, my parents, my children, step-children, grandchildren. We're a big family and I miss them all.

It is with heavy heart I board the early morning plane for Corfu, brought forward to avoid getting tangled up in a strike by Greek air traffic control.

And then we are back, back in the sunshine of Agios Magikades to a chorus of kalimera, welcoming smiles and an amaryllis on the balcony.

There is our neighbour, Spiros, with a new puppy no bigger than his thumb, waiter Spiros calling at our door to pick up the boots we have brought him from England, and Paleos Spiros on his way to the kafenion for fags and stopping off for an ouzo with us.

A whole host of villagers welcomes us back with open arms and phone calls.

'Is everything all right? Have you had a good time?'

Yes, we have but it's good to be back. So many mixed emotions.

But that's another story.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x