I finally made it to Weymouth after a bit of a faff on the train from London – nothing major, just spilled my cuppa all over me lap right as we pulled into the station. Classic me, innit? But hey, a quick splash under the tap at the platform loo, and I was off, lugging my rucksack the short stroll to Emminster, this cracking little cottage tucked away in the heart of Weymouth. It’s one of those proper Dorset gems, all stone walls and flower baskets, just a stone’s throw from the seafront. Arriving on a Friday arvo, with the sun peeking through like it was putting on a show just for me, I felt that proper holiday buzz kick in.

First impressions? Blimey, Emminster exceeded expectations. The host had left fresh scones and clotted cream on the kitchen table – talk about a welcome! The place is cosy as anything, with a teeny garden that backs onto a quiet lane, and those big sash windows letting in the salty breeze off Weymouth Bay. I dumped my bags, kicked off my trainers, and within minutes was out the door for my first wander. Weymouth’s perfect for it – flat esplanade paths along the beach, then you can veer off towards the harbour where the fishing boats bob about. The weather was holding up nicely, a proper blue-sky day with just enough warmth to make you forget it’s still technically summer’s tail end.

Saturday morning, I laced up my boots for a proper hike up to Nothe Fort. It’s only a couple of miles from Emminster, following the coastal path past the lifeboat station. The views! You’re right up on the headland, looking back at Chesil Beach snaking off into the distance, and Weymouth’s beachfront all golden below. I packed a butty and flask, feeling like a right explorer. Halfway up, though, the British weather decided to have a laugh. One minute it’s balmy, larks chirping and whatnot; the next, proper black clouds roll in from Portland, and I’m dodging fat raindrops like a fool. Ended up sheltering in the fort’s old tunnels – eerie but brilliant, with cannons peering out over the waves. Laughed at meself, soaked to the skin, thinking, “This is why you always pack a waterproof, you muppet.” But it cleared up sharpish, and the rainbow over the bay made it all worthwhile. Back at the cottage by tea time, dripping but chuffed, I lit the fire (yes, it’s got a real one) and tucked into fish and chips from the chippy round the corner.

Sunday brought more walking shenanigans, this time along the South West Coast Path towards White Nothe, keeping it local – no more than a few miles out. Started off misty, which gave everything this dreamy vibe, the path winding through scrubby cliffs and wildflowers. I spotted seals lounging on the rocks below, or at least I think they were seals; could’ve been logs, but let’s pretend. Then, classic Dorset, the wind whipped up, turning my planned gentle amble into a full-on battle against horizontal rain. Plans to picnic on the clifftop? Scrapped. Instead, I hunkered down under a groyne on the beach, munching a soggy sandwich and watching the waves crash in. It forced me to slow down, mind – no rushing about, just me and the sea’s roar. Made me reflect a bit, actually. Life back home’s all go, go, go, but here, battered by the weather on these hikes, you realise it’s alright to adapt, to let the elements steer you. That’s the magic of Weymouth walks – unpredictable, but always character-building.

By the time I trudged back to Emminster, windswept and glowing, the sun was out again, mocking my earlier woes. First impressions sealed: this cottage is a cracker for weather-whipped adventures right on your doorstep. If you’re after that proper British seaside soul-searching via soggy boots, you can’t go wrong. Can’t wait to return – next time, with better forecasts!