Picture the scene: rookie squaddies on parade for the first time, the 6’4” Sergeant Major walking down the line. He shouts as only a Sergeant Major can. He passes the first squaddie, smacks his head and orders him to get a haircut; the second squaddie, he pulls by the ear and pronounces that no effeminate earrings or piercings are allowed in his squad. He walks up to me puts his face close up to mine and shouts, ‘Did you check whether the coast path would be closed between Lulworth and Kimmeridge as it’s an MOD firing range?’ The answer, of course, was, NO. It didn’t even occur to me that it would be closed. Now to make matters worse, not only was the South West Coast Path closed during the week, but this weekend was one of only six in the whole year, when it was also closed!

So Carolynn and I arrived, as we always do, at the end of the first day’s walk only to find that the path was closed due to the MOD using it as a live firing range; however, we were told that it would be open at the weekend. Now some people say that I can be a little dim, but even I’m not stupid enough to walk across a live firing range and to be honest it’s not actually possible to get onto the path as the way is barred by a 10′ high fence with razor wire running along the top. So now I had to quickly come up with a plan B before Andrew and Caroline arrived. ‘Plan B’ was pretty simple; we would do day two of the walk on the first day, which was a Thursday, take Friday off and do day one on Saturday and the final day on Sunday… all’s good, it just meant that a short first day would have to be replaced by the longer second day.

So we took a car to the end of day two, Anvil Point Lighthouse, and walked west with the sea on our left. Strange, as for the last 600 miles the sea had always been on our right. The path from the lighthouse followed a high, but level route to St Alban’s Head.

The whole of this area was used for the quarrying of Purbeck Stone and Dancing Ledge was used as a harbour for removing the stone because of its deep drop off. It’s also the site of a swimming pool blasted into the rock for the local primary schools… I assume H&S means that it’s no longer used as such now… not sure what the Sergeant Major would have to say about that! Namby pambies or words to that effect!

We had a sixth member joining our group for this last push: Kate. But because of the change to ‘Plan B’ we had to arrange a new meeting place. It appears that Google Maps works differently on her phone than ours. Of course, she put the correct postcode into her phone, there was no doubting that, however Google took her to Studland Bay, a somewhat different location than where we were! However, when we reached St Alban’s Head, our agreed meeting place, she, of course, was there waiting, full of life as always.

Looking at the map, in hindsight, there is a clue as to what was about to come, which, like the MOD shutting the path for war games, I missed!

One walker in a report says, ‘Prepare yourself for going down a gazillion steps into a combe and then back up again.’ I believe ‘gazillion’ is an understatement. We’ve come across these step hidden valleys before. You don’t know that they are there. All looks flat from the walker’s perspective. Then ‘Bang’ a great gaping valley appears, with a vertical descent and then a vertical ascent, with no real apparent progress, except that your lungs and heart are fighting to get out of your body and break free. The walking, after the hidden valley, became easier as we headed along the Kimmeridge Ledges, waist high in vegetation along this rollercoaster section of the path.

We descend into Kimmeridge Bay where the car is parked in the early evening, probably our latest finish.

On the Friday we pottered about Corfe Castle, had lunch in the rain, waiting impatiently for Saturday to do the section of the path that was closed due to the MOD inconsiderately using the area as a firing range… I’m not at all upset at their inappropriate use of our path. On Saturday we headed for the same car park as we did on Thursday only to be told that the MOD hadn’t yet finished and this weekend was one of only six in the whole year that they would be using it for further live firing! Devastating news, it meant that no matter what we decided to do we wouldn’t complete the South West Coast Path on this trip. Disappointing.

Instead, we walked the final day. The start of that day was at the same place we were staying, at the lighthouse on Anvil Point. Like the other four lighthouses we’ve stayed in whilst walking the path, it was in a setting that cleared and relaxed the mind.

Today was both full of excitement and anti-climax. We were going to finish the walk, but not finish it! A paradox!

The walk was through Swanage, a seaside resort that could be anywhere on the English east coast and then onto Old Harry Rocks, with its striking chalk stacks and arches that were once part of a ridge that went all the way to the Isle of Wight.

From here the path descended to Studland Bay and a 5km walk along the beach to South Haven Point and the end of ‘The Path’ and our walk. This section is, I believe, what both Andrew and Carolynn thought the path would be all the way, rather than having to ascend and descent Everest three and a half times. I can’t think of anything more mind numbing than a 1,050km walk along a flat beach and I know Andrew and Carolynn would now agree.

‘I Would Not End an End’, a private joke between Andrew and myself, dating back to our A-Levels. A Phil Collins song ‘In the Air Tonight’: Andrew always insisted that the lyrics were ‘I would not end an end’ but it was, as we all know ‘I would not lend a hand’. In this case Andrew’s interpretation is more apt. I’ll be honest I didn’t want it to end; I’ve spent more time with my best friend since our childhood. Not only did it bring back old memories, but the path created new ones, ones I hope we will reminisce over in a few years’ time, as we look back over our glory years.

Besides Andrew and me there were three others in the group. Firstly Carolynn. I wrote in ‘Ramblings from the Roof of the World’, a photographic book I had printed after a couple of my trips to the Himalaya:

‘This photographic journey of the Himalaya is dedicated to my wonderful wife… she might not know why and she might not understand why, but her love always travels with me.’

I hope this walk has helped her to know and understand why.

Secondly Caroline. She probably has more determination than all of us. She is the only one to have completed every section at the first attempt. She walks alongside silently, thoughtfully, and listens, a rare and wonderful trait.

Last but not least, Lottie. She’ll sit at my feet, tail wagging and looking up at me with those irresistible eyes saying, ‘When is the next walk, Uncle Charles?’… well Lottie it’s coming, I promise.

The final instalment will come, that last 11.5km will be completed… very soon.