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Martin Hesp

Hengistbury Head

Hengistbury Head

There’s nothing quite like stumbling upon a location you’ve never visited before and discovering it to be surprisingly scenic and enjoyable. It is particularly rewarding for West Country folk when we come across some delightful corner of the coast outside our region, because we tend to be pretty much spoilt when it comes to having lovely bays and beaches in our own backyard.

If I’m being honest, I wasn’t expecting too much when, for family reasons, we found ourselves heading towards Bournemouth last weekend. Yes, I know the city has a famous beach - a long, sandy and rather wonderful one that can become pretty much overwhelmed on a sunny day in peak season. But crowded beaches don’t do it for me, even if they are extensive and formed of the finest sand. 

However, a childhood friend of our son, a young man who has done very well for himself in financial terms, invited us to stay at his rather posh home situated at the far eastern end of Bournemouth beach - and it was this location which allowed us to discover the delights of a place called Hengistbury Head and the wonderful beach-hut community beyond which it so effectively shelters from the ravages of the English Channel. 

That oh-we-do-like-to-be-beside-the-seaside location is called the Mudeford sand-spit and, speaking as a Bristol Channel boy, I reckon someone ought to be had up by the Trades Descriptions Act for that moniker. My local beaches master in mud - we have zillions of tonnes of the stuff. Mudeford, on the other hand, boasts naught but golden sand. 

Mudeford is actually a coastal community split in two - it’s dual sand-spits are interrupted by the watery mouth of Christchurch Harbour - a large natural lagoon where you will indeed see the odd bit of mud among the many reedbeds and sandbanks which populate the 870 acre SSSI (Site of Special Scientific Interest). Needless to say, the combined estuaries of the rivers Stour and Avon make it a popular place for birdwatchers.

And, as I say, the whole watery shooting match is protected from the prevailing gales in the English Channel by Hengistbury Head - which is something of a geological marvel in itself. Its layers of ironstone, clay, and sand are plain to see and they offer a glimpse of literally millions of years of history. 

The area is one big nature reserve. Walk along the headland’s well-maintained paths and you’ll come across a diverse range of habitats, from heathland and grassland in the coastal acres to marshes and deep oak woodlands on the more sheltered inland side. The views from Warren Hill at the top of the headland are truly expansive, providing panoramas across Christchurch Harbour to the Isle of Wight as well as west down the length of Bournemouth’s beach all the way to Poole Head and Sandbanks.

To quote the nature reserve’s website: “On this small headland you will find places that are windy, sheltered, wet, dry, muddy, sandy, stony, sunny, shady, flat, steep and salty. These diverse habitats create homes for over 500 plant species, 300 types of birds, a superb variety of insects, reptiles and small mammals.”

The nature reserve offers more than just scenic walks. At the £1m visitor centre, with its grass roof and walls insulated with straw, you can learn about the area’s archaeological heritage, including its extensive use as a site during the Bronze Age. The first people to leave evidence of their existence came here in a warmer period towards the end of the last Ice Age, around 12,000 years ago. They were following the retreating ice sheet in search of new hunting grounds.

Looking south from Warren Hill, those Bronze Age folk would have viewed a wide river valley issuing out onto a vast low plain. Sea levels were much lower - back then, apart from a few rivers it was dry land all the way to France. The place now known as the Isle of Wight would have been an hour’s walk away. 

If you have a two-year-old toddler and a baby with you (and we did) the thing to do is stroll down the paved lane which runs a mile or so along the sheltered, inland, part of the headland to the Mudeford sand spit. This will take you through delightful woodlands and through the trees you will catch glimpses of the watery expanses of Christchurch harbour beyond. The sand-spit itself comes as a bit of a surprise crowned, as it is, with two lines of colourfully painted beach huts. 

There are 346 huts altogether and I wonder how much these used to sell for when they were first built back in the 1930s? A few quid, I imagine - and I bet they were a working class luxury - the gentry wouldn’t have touched one with a barge-pole, let alone a bowsprit. Today, a quick search on the internet reveals how they fetch the best part of £-half-a-million! I’m looking at one for sale now, at just 16 feet by 13 feet in size, the asking price is £480,000.  Added to that you will have to pay over £4000 annually for the combined license fee and council tax. Yes, you can sleep in it - but only between 1 March and 31 October.

In the hot sunshine last Sunday, the sand-spit was packed. And it really did make for a jolly scene. You could describe it as being the visual epitome of the classic British seaside holiday. Large family groups and other happy folk were swimming, sailing, paddle-boarding, wind-surfing, snorkelling, eating and drinking and all the other things people get up to in or on the waves nowadays. It might have been a fluke but just about every occupant of every beach hut seemed to have a glass of something white and bubbly on the go.

Along the spit towards the foot-ferry quay (in season, the boat goes to the main village of Mudeford on the other side of the harbour mouth) there’s an excellent cafe where you can purchase all manner of snacks and meals.  

And I liked the place very much indeed. I warmed to the whole we-do-love-to-be-beside-the-seaside buzz. But I couldn’t afford one of those beach huts if I was to start saving now and continued until the next time the English Channel dries out.

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