‘Is there a path, Dad?’ I holler. Ahead of me, an intrepid figure - beneath an old man’s cap marked “Sports” - flails among impenetrable brambles. ‘Yes, if you’re a badger,’ he yells back. Blood is leaking from his left forearm. We are trying to walk the South West Coast Path in Dorset: from Charmouth to Eype. But part of the path is closed - the first part, as it turns out. So we are forced to head east along the beach instead, marvelling at the Jurassic coastline. As we crunch along the shingle from Charmouth car park, signs advertise hourly rates for hiring fossil hammers and deckchairs. Other signs warn: “No digging in the cliffs without permission”. Hammerless, we find a fossil within seconds. But my sister, Josephine, grasps the flawless ammonite - perfectly preserved
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