Motorhome travel: A trip through Wiltshire, Hampshire and Dorset

Janet Banks and her husband Ian take a tour of Wiltshire, Hampshire and Dorset in their motorhome - otherwise known as Lucy...

You could almost taste the history in the air – the first campsite on our tour had views up to the Iron Age fort of Old Sarum and down to the city of Salisbury. We’d driven along a Roman road and Stonehenge was almost within throwing distance.

Into the centre of Salisbury

A pleasant 20-minute stroll from Salisbury Camping and Caravanning Club site took us to the centre of the city. The Market Place, with its timber-framed medieval buildings, really comes alive every Tuesday and Saturday for its bustling and colourful Charter Market.

The fifteenth century Poultry Cross stands in the corner of the Market Place and (no surprise!) marks the area of the medieval market assigned to the sale of our feathered friends. On our visit it makes a good shelter from the persistent drizzle.

The walled Cathedral Close, the largest in Britain, is a spacious and peaceful green area with contemporary sculptures in harmony with the beautiful thirteenth century cathedral, the spire of which is the tallest in Britain. A service was taking place in the cathedral, but we were able to stroll in the cloisters and take a peep inside.

The best-preserved of only four surviving 1215 Magna Cartas can be seen as part of an exhibition. As a child, I had climbed the cathedral’s tower, all 332 steps. It’s still an option for energetic types but we opted to give it a miss this time.

Mompesson House, a National Trust property, faces the cathedral and is an elegant wisteria-clad eighteenth century building and worth a visit just for the delightful tea room – as we did!

Refreshed and satisfied, we walked by the fast-flowing River Avon and crossed a bridge festooned with love locks (engraved padlocks). I love this gesture of romance, unlike my more cynical other half who considers things like rust and the impact of all that additional weight on the bridge! Our return route through Victoria Park took us back to our motorhome, Lucy, and we managed half an hour ‘al fresco’ watching the sun dip over Old Sarum.

A bright morning saw us striding uphill before breakfast. A blustery circular walk around the outer ramparts of Old Sarum gave us a taste of 2,000 years of habitation, from Iron Age man to the Romans, Normans and Saxons. We could see the footprint of the original Salisbury Cathedral. It was dismantled stone by stone and used to build the new cathedral when the city moved down to its current riverside location.

Driving south and on to Boscombe

Our drive south skirted Ringwood on the edge of the New Forest National Park and onto Boscombe. Just to the east of bustling Bournemouth, Boscombe feels quieter, refined and has gorgeous beaches. If sand between your toes doesn’t appeal, there’s the promenade or the clifftop walk towards Southbourne, with views across to the Isle of Wight.

The parking near Hengistbury Head was either on-street, limited to an hour or there are car parks with height restrictions – definitely not Lucy or long-stay friendly. We settled for a quick paddle and left the nature reserve, planning a return visit on bicycles.

England was experiencing a mini-heatwave and it seemed as if the entire population was heading to the coast. In need of peace and quiet, we turned inland and pitched at Roundhill Camping in the Forest site.

I’m almost reluctant to share this site’s identity, but am doing so in the spirit of motorhome camaraderie. You just pay your fee and find a pitch. Our secluded spot was on the route of cows and New Forest ponies grazing under Commoners’ Rights, an ancient practice that is still going strong. It was a treat to be outside late into the evening and, with virtually zero light pollution, we gazed at the star-filled sky.

Enough relaxing, there was walking to be done. A circular loop of about eight miles took in open heath and paths through both deciduous and coniferous forest.

We caught glimpses of deer, squirrels, a woodpecker and very many ponies. Brockenhurst village is small, but perfectly formed, with a ford, greens and a pretty main street complete with a useful, well-stocked camping shop and an Aladdin’s cave of a hardware store (Streets Ironmongers).

Just on the edge of Brockenhurst I’d spotted St Nicholas Church as a potential picnic spot on our return route. What a charming place it turned out to be. The church itself is purported to be the oldest in the New Forest with some Saxon stonework in the nave.

However, it is in the churchyard that a surprise awaits: a separate and beautifully maintained cenotaph with over 100 simple gravestones. Just up the lane there had been a large hospital during WWI for Commonwealth soldiers and the story of these Indian and New Zealand servicemen is kept alive with information boards and a poignant stained glass window in the church. If you are in the area, do attend the annual ANZAC memorial service on the fourth Sunday of every April; a descendant of one of the fallen journeys every year from New Zealand.

An early night was needed after our physical exertion. However, we were rudely woken after just an hour by the most amazing storm. That first clap of thunder must have been right overhead and had a disastrous effect. Usually ultra-cautious, Ian had checked many weather apps and these had forecasted the odd shower and light wind overnight, so we had left the canopy out, beautifully bedecked with solar fairy lights. It didn’t survive and we must have looked a sorry sight with wellies, raincoats and not much else on, but we managed to roll in what was left of our canopy.

The thunder was deafening, the lightning incredibly bright and the rain nonstop. In different circumstances I could have appreciated the magnificence of nature. We’d learned our lesson: use your instincts, not your apps!

A visit to the National Motor Museum, Beaulieu

It was time to depart Roundhill the next morning but, before leaving the New Forest, we spent a wonderful day at Beaulieu. It being mid-week, there were no crowds and our tickets allowed us free re-entry to all areas within six days, which I thought excellent value.

In the fascinating National Motor Museum Beaulieu we found a Mini of the same blue colour as the one we had in the 1970s. It brought back happy memories but made me wonder how on earth we fitted all our camping gear into a car so small.

Although the entire site of Beaulieu is fairly compact and easily walkable, we could not resist a ride on the replica of 1912 open-topped London bus* and the monorail which went inside the museum as part of the route. We walked around the peaceful ruins of the Cistercian Abbey and were intrigued by the exhibition about what life would have been like for the monks. In a word, hard.

Palace House was next, followed by quirky carvings in the old trees on the banks of Beaulieu River. Our final experience of the New Forest was a ‘traffic jam’ on the B3045 to Lyndhurst. We didn’t mind, though, as it was created by some adorable shaggy donkeys.

Our southern sojourn had given us history both ancient and modern and a desire to return to visit the bits we didn’t fit in – as long as no storms are forecast!

This feature was originally published in the March 2019 edition of MMM magazine - click here to buy a digital copy of that issue and read it in full.

*Vintage bus image courtesy of Janet Banks