Brownsea Island

Taking photos is fun, relaxing, and enjoyable.  Editing photos is a pain in the backside, hence why (along with a busy few weeks shooting, and being away on holiday), means this update is going up a while after the images were shot.  Anyway, back in July we ended up on Brownsea Island, which is not as fun as Tracey Island, but considerably safer than the Island of Dr Moreau.  It is run by a number of organisations, mainly the National Trust, but we were there as we're both Scout Leaders and this little island off the south coast can be considered the spiritual home of the movement, as it was the site of the first experimental camp.

Above, the experimental camp- a photograph of a model in the visitor centre, because it was a) interesting, b) a model and Ben is into miniatures photography, and c) we don't have a Tardis in the kitbag and so can not travel back to the early 1900's to photograph the real camp, so the model will have to do to give a flavour of the place.

Not too many pics taken over the week- mainly because we needed to travel light on the train, and therefore had to pack on the assumption that baggage would be lost, soaked, abandoned, or eaten to keep us alive during an inevitable delayed train or missed connection.  We only had the underwater camera, and an ancient Nikon for photos, and we were also rather busy being leaders most of the time, but it was nice nonetheless. 

A mammoth jouney from Yorkshire involved:  Car to Bingley, then car to Bingley station, Bingley-Shipley on train, Shipley-Leeds on train, Leeds-Manchester on train, Manchester-somewhere past Southampton by this point on a train with no air conditioning I was past caring where-That Place to Poole on train, Poole Station to the quayside on foot, Poole Docks to Brownsea by the last ferry of the day, then a trip in the back of a rusting LDV van to the campsite.  Some 11 hours, followed by putting up tents and cooking.

Lots of tame wildlife on the island, as no dogs or cats allowed.  The two shots of the nosy peacocks outside the tents are uncropped, they really did get that close.

Of course, Brownsea is also famed for its Red Squirrel population, who are also incredibly tame and steal food.  This relaxed attitude to the most deadly species of all, (play dramatic music) Man, may go some way to explaining their downfall as a race on the British mainland.

Despite being a very pretty little tourist trap, the island has a surprisingly industrial history, with such ventures as a pottery established on the sound financial grounds of: a complete lack of common sense, lack of proper geological surveys, and abundance of optimism.  Long gone now, but it means the beaches near the campsite are composed almost entirely of clay or smashed terracotta pipes (the clay only being suitable for pipes rather than fine dinnerware, a fact discovered by the soon bankrupt owner who fled to Spain to escape his creditors).

There was even a brief opportunity, on one of the few sandy bits of beach on our side of the island, for a bit of sculpture and artistry, with a sandcastle competition, made all the more tricky by only having one spade and no bucket.  The castle above was the rather arty effort by the Scouts...

Whilst our own slightly freelance interpretation of the castle in York featured a handily up-cycled brick.

Given the general weather of the summer up to the point we're writing this in mid August, we had it rather nice there to be honest, having taken the careful precaution of arriving on the island the week before the local school summer holidays started, which guaranteed both gorgeous weather for us, and inevitably awful weather for whoever arrived as we left.  It also meant that we had the campsite (and indeed much of the island) to ourselves after the last boats had sailed for the mainland at 5.

The old pier, which was plastered with signs saying it was dangerous.  I (Ben) treated these with a somewhat cavalier disregard for my safety, at least until I climbed down to water level and saw the state the woodwork actually supporting this thing was in...

Peace and tranquility were somewhat shattered by the military deciding to re-enact "Apocalypse Now" and buzz the campsite with Chinooks and Sea Kings, which was entertaining, though hard to photograph in the failing light.

Lillies.

The red squirrels became ever more tame over the course of the week, getting nearer and nearer, to the point when they stopped being a novelty, and in fact we became rather blasé about these significantly endangered creatures.  And then a tad annoyed when they started to raid the mess tent, breaking into supposedly sealed cartons and crates.  Who would have thought that Red Squirrels enjoy washing-up water, packets of custard, lemon+lime cordial, raw pasta, honey-nut cornflakes, and leftover curry?

Red Squirrels have good taste when it comes to tea however.

The tameness of the wildlife got a little silly towards the end of the camp, such as this deer which calmly wandered past within a few feet of us and the Youths.

We got to leave our mark on the site with another quick bit of improvised art, with Amy attacking a suitable bit of driftwood, and adding an unconventionally sparkly touch with some nail polish.

Finally back home, with a slight variation of the journey featuring us leaving the island by canoe (against the tide, into the wind, and across a major shipping channel used by dredgers, ferries, and the royal navy, interesting to say the least). 

 Above shows our first conveyance from Poole to Bournemouth, as the quality of the trains decreased along with the number of coaches the further north we travelled (featuring such highlights as a Cross-Country service with only 1 out of 4 toilets working, and 1 of the three standard-class coaches having no air conditioning, identical to the train we travelled down on a week earlier).  We ended on the clapped-out Leeds-Settle-Carlisle train which early evening on a Saturday was full of noisy, but very friendly, drunks.

Overall a damned enjoyable week; the Scouts were happy, we had fun, the island was pleasantly eccentric, and journeys could have been a lot worse.  A few opportunities for shooting pics, particularly landscapes and wildlife which we don't do a lot of these days, so that was a positive.

Next time, more from Wales probably.