Lyme Regis in Late October

I visited Lyme Regis in late October, about a month and a half ago, and thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s one of those places that feels both familiar and otherworldly at the same time. Maybe it’s the layered cliffs, maybe it’s the wind that blows straight in from the Channel, or maybe it’s the way the town seems to fold itself gently into the coastline. Whatever the reason, it’s a place that’s easy to like.

October, by the way, is an excellent time to visit. The tourist crowds have dispersed but the town isn’t fully asleep yet. You can still find life in the cafés and along the promenade, but you also get those long, quiet stretches where it’s just you and the sound of the sea harassing the pebbles. I prefer it that way. Off-season coastal towns have a certain charm; peaceful, introspective, and just moody enough to make beautiful photos.

The Town Mill

One of the highlights of my trip was Town Mill, which is tucked away from the seafront, almost as if it’s shy about its own existence. It’s an old watermill, but not the ruined, forgotten kind you occasionally stumble upon in England. This one is alive. You can hear it breathing the moment you enter the courtyard; the faint rumble of the wheel turning, the trickling water working away behind the stone walls, the creaks that remind you this thing predates your grandparents by several centuries.

The Mill dates back to the 1300s, though it’s been restored, revived, and re-loved many times over the centuries. Today it feels like a little village within a town: a cluster of artists’ studios, a bakery, a pottery workshop, a café, and the mill itself still grinding grain the traditional way. It’s cosy, charming, and slightly chaotic in the best way; like walking into a postcard that someone forgot to stop updating.

I particularly enjoyed the final part of the mill where the actual flour is bagged. I learn't so much about the different types of flour; based on how fine the flour is ground, which type of wheat was used and so on. There are also other crops milled there which are also bagged and supplied to local shops. The bread made in the town is supplied by the mill too, which goes to support the running of the mill. The mill is run primarily by very enthusiastic volunteers as well, which was an absolute joy.

It was quite interesting to discover the origins of some figures of speech that we use in the English language today. Some of the ones I learn't include; "run of the mill", "daily grind", "rule of thumb", "damsel in distress", and so on, my favourite of which is "grind to a halt".

I spent a good chunk of my time there wandering between the studios, peering at local crafts, and listening to the sound of the wheel turning steadily outside. At one point I stood next to the water channel, just watching the overshot wheel keep its steady, gentle rhythm. You can’t help but feel a kind of strange affection for it. In a world where most machines try to be silent and unobtrusive, this one proudly makes itself heard. And honestly? Good for it.

The rest of Lyme Regis was just as pleasant. The Cobb, of course, is the poster child of the town; dramatic, brooding, and perfect for photos if you're lucky enough to catch the right light. I did a lot of walking, up and down those sloped streets that seem determined to give you a mild workout without your permission. I wandered into bookshops, found a couple of decent pastries, and tried to avoid the seagulls who, as usual, believe every human is carrying food for them personally.😂

Mary Anning was a renowned 19th-century fossil collector and palaeontologist born in Lyme Regis on 21 May 1799, who became internationally celebrated for her groundbreaking discoveries in Jurassic marine fossil beds along the Dorset coast.

The weather was mixed, but I don’t mind that at all. In fact, the shifting skies made the views even more interesting. One moment everything was silver and soft, the next moment the clouds opened up just enough to make the sea sparkle like it was trying to apologise for being moody ten minutes prior.

Food-wise, I didn’t indulge too much — the timing of my trip didn’t quite align with restaurant hours, and many places were beginning their slow seasonal hibernation. I did find a nice café where I had a very decent americano, which is always a pleasant surprise in small English coastal towns. Nowhere near London’s level of coffee, but respectable enough.

The Cobb walk was so beautiful when I first went that way but the sun was in the wrong place for good photos. I returned to the Cobb walk later to get better photos. The tide had receded too, making for absolutely stunning photos both of the harbour and distant landscape across the water. There was a rainbow-like sun dog in the sky that was quite difficult to photograph, but I tried my best. Unfortunately, though, I couldn't see the aquarium as it was already closed or, perhaps, was never opened that day.

I stayed in a charming little cottage while I was there - located on a farm as is very common with getaway cottages in England. The coasts was about 6-10 minutes by car from there. I would, however, have been just as happy staying inside Lyme Regis town itself because of how picturesque it is there. Very colourful and exceedingly charming little town. I will do a separate post about that, including the photos of other places I revisited on the Jurassic Coast. They are too plentiful to include in this post. I found a few fossils myself actually. Nothing ground-breaking, but I was quite chuffed.

As always with these trips, I found myself wishing I had more time. Lyme Regis has the kind of quiet charm that sneaks up on you. It isn’t loud about what it offers, but it has depth, history, and a certain gentle personality that makes you want to linger. I’ll very likely return — maybe in spring next time, when the Mill Garden is in full bloom and the sea looks a bit more playful.

Peace & Love,

Adé