Places never get mentioned and then they do. Visiting The Isle of Portland, it was always noticable that the incline was steep and the inmates were hyper indigenous English with the English flag tatooed on their skin and their soul dipped in the blood of suffering. The field plots are antique vasal strips but with either a feel of Victorian or Ex-Navy ratings. It was a Roman Entrepot. Landscape features were used more logically. Yet truely the Isle of Portland is remote with a loop road and the road to the southern tip lighthouse looks hostile among council estates and ancient scrubland.
Now it turns out that in Iron Age times the island was for the insane living in stone caves.
The fort drops are severe like French forts. Chesil Beach curves out for 15 miles but who would walk so far on billions to the power n77 of pebbles?
In nearby Dorchester where Poundbury like a carbuncle on the face of an old friend a lady working in Woolworths opens a NeoWollenGmbH.
The Olympics 2012 sailing will be held here, the venue now already complete and road excavation uncovers a mass grave of warriors (or defeated homesteaders) on a flanking hillside of Maiden Castle south of Dorchester.