THE DESTINATION102 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC TRAVELLER INDIA | JULY 2019
SUNSHINE/ALAMY/INDIAPICTURE(THE SECRET OF KILLIMOOIN COVER),NEFTALI/SHUTTERSTOCK(STAMP)FACING PAGE:FLOTSOM/ISTOCK/GETTY IMAGES(TRAIN),ALICE-PHOTO/ISTOCK(BEACH)Before me stretched the blue waters
of Poole Bay and all around lay the
countryside of county Dorset. Brownsea
Island was a whispering distance away,
near enough to make me believe I could
swim there faster than any boat, yet far
enough to retain all its magic. Beyond
lay the ‘great tree-clad mass’ around
which little boats gathered and yachts
sailed in the wind, ‘enjoying themselves
in the great harbour which stretched far
beyond the island.’
I was in Enid Blyton country, a
corner of England she never really lived
but returned every year on holiday in
spring, summer and autumn throughout
the 1950s and ’60s. She brought with
her daughters Gillian and Imogen,
her second husband Kenneth and, as
her stardom swelled with every book,
generations of young fans from across
the globe. This is where Julian, Dick and
Anne visited from boarding schools on
holiday, and were swept into adventure
along with their cousin George and her
dog Timmy in Famous Five. And this is
where I waited for the boat to take me to
‘Whispering Island.’
In Blyton’s time, Brownsea was owned
by Mary Bonham-Christie, whose rather
eccentric idea of conservation was non-
interference. She evicted the island’s
200 strong residents, allowed nature to
take over and kept armed guards who
circled the coastline to keep visitors at
bay. Soon Bonham-Christie and her
island gained notoriety. Nobody quite
knew what went on there. It was the
perfect setting for an adventure. Blyton’s
imagination ran wild. Brownsea already
had a castle. She added to it a ‘great bed
of pure gold set with precious stones,
a necklace of rubies as big as pigeons’
eyes, a wonderful sword with a jewelled
handle worth a king’s fortune’ and called
it Keep-Away Island. And it was here
one hot summer’s day fresh from their
swim, the Famous Five were carried to
its shores by strong undercurrents in a
boat called Adventure.
Today Brownsea is a walker’s delight.
No cars or cycles are allowed here, but you can pack a picnic,
pick up a map and set off in search of the elusive red squirrel.
There are three designated walks. I picked the woodland walk
past a motley group of sunbathing peahens, cockerels and
a solitary sika deer by the church, and along the edge of the
unprotected clifftop. Here I stopped. The bay stretched as far
as the eye could see, to Studland and beyond, to Old Harry and
his Wife. Old Harry is a chalk rock outcrop that rises from the
seabed and is one of the finest landmarks of Dorset. Legend
goes Harry Paye, an infamous Poole pirate who raided French
and Spanish ships for gold and wine in late 14th century,
anchored his boat behind the rocks to evade the taxmen. Until
1896, Old Harry had a Wife, standing alongside. But the wind
and the ocean conspired and now all that remains of her is a
chalky stump.
I pulled back from the view and continued along the cliff
face. Bonham Christie’s wild woods have been cleared in places
and some overhanging branches cut to allow the sun to pour in
through the trees. The soft red earth beneath was strewn with
fallen pinecones. The wind swooped in and the trees whispered
loudly. Brownsea is full of stories. In 1907, Lord Baden-Powell,
a house guest with the Van Raalte family, the then owners
of Brownsea, asked if he could borrow the south shore of the
island to try out an idea of his. On August 1 the same year, a
group of 20 boys pitched on the island, camping, training, fire
lighting, cooking for a week. The Boy Scout Movement was
born. More than a 100 years on, it returns every year to its
birthplace. On special summer weekends you can sleep under
the stars, play hopscotch with sandwich terns or red-billed
oystercatchers, or watch Shakespeare in the woods.
I lingered as long as I could, stopping and staring at reed
hides, past the lily pond and the remains of a vinery and
returned to port for the last boat out at five. By the shore
stand two cottages that the National Trust rent out for guests.
Weekly tariffs are not cheap, but it’s a storybook stay on an
island crackling with adventure and untold mysteries.
The next morning I woke up in the Isle of Purbeck, a
20-minute boat ride from Brownsea. Purbeck is strictly not
an isle, it is a peninsula that fans out into the English Channel
along England’s ancient Jurassic Coast. In between lie prime
Blyton pastures—coastlines, coves, heaths and castles she
picked on time and again for locations for her adventures in
many of the Famous Fives and The Rhubadub Mysteries.
Blyton often borrowed from real places and people, she
changed their names of course but stuck to facts. And that is
one of the beguiling charms of Dorset. If you’ve been a Blyton
fan since the age of five, you wouldn’t need a map in Dorset, for
you would know every village green and every friendly bobby
that stopped you on the street. Surely.
After breakfast we stopped for a paddle and ice cream on
Knoll Beach, one of Studland’s four famous and long stretchesFacing page:
Arriving on a steam
train (top) to Corfe
Castle like Enid
Blyton first did
in 1931 is half the
fun; The long walk
between Lulworth
Cove and Durdle
Door (b ot to m),
running along the
chalk cliffs with
views of the ocean,
is the highlight
of any Dorset
adventure.I stood on the water’s edge
rocking urgently on my tiptoe.