Emma Stone Remembers a Visit from Iris and John

August the 30th 1965

Today Iris, John and my parents drove to Portland Bill for a picnic. John and Mamma looking fantastic in the Moke* and the rest of us in the 1100 MG which we’ve had for a year now. We stopped at Wadden a most beautiful Georgian house which they admired tremendously.

We arrived at last at the end of a very obscure track leading down to a quarry full of fascinating rare wild flowers and had our picnic under the shelter of some rocks. The view was stunning. Magnificent cliffs white and dazzling in the sunlight, rounded in a curve on the left with places like Lulworth Cove hidden in their recesses. The sea looked calm and inviting, wavelets washed gently over seaweed-covered boulders looking very like basking seals. One could perceive that the sea was not flat but billowed and swelled in unexpected places. The colour of the sea was varied from a dark purple at the edge to a vivid indigo streaks with pale blue issuing from the lime rocks.

* The Moke is a Mini Moke, a kind of modified jeep, see photograph.

Mamma nattily brought some sticks and with the help of stones made an excellent place to cook a stew which turned out to be most delicious. Before the picnic Iris very bravely ventured into the sea and looked remarkably like some mermaid floating amongst the beautiful morning seaweed. To get to the beach one had to climb down from our rock perch down a small precipice, quite frightening. I can’t think how they managed, Iris and John, even though there was a rough path. Papa longed to bathe but had no bathing trunks, then Mamma suggested her long purple pantaloons, woollen, edged with lace and very pretty. At first he wouldn’t hear of it then at last submitted. I wouldn’t have been seen dead wearing them I’m so self-conscious, as I have said.

When at last Papa emerged, ‘he was a sight for the blind’ as Mamma would say, looking too ludicrous but rather darling funnily enough when Iris and he were in the water together it really was a marvellous sight, the purple looked wonderful against the deep blue of the sea. Mamma laughed until she cried watching Papa as he crept over the rocks and into the sea. ‘Like some musical’ as she said it was so funny.

One felt almost birdlike perched above the wide ocean of blue. Almost too good and the weather was so marvellous, warm and sunny while at home there was an icy wind and showers. I felt almost as if this was the most heavenly dream. John and Iris who are so appreciative loved every minute of it as well as riding in the Moke as we all did. We spotted several exciting ships white and glossy against the blue of the sea. All of which John knew about, being a great expert on the subject.

After a blissful time we started off for for the old church on Portland, rather strange with a tower very like Italians and large white marble walls, but it was the tombstones we had really come to see. The churchyard, no longer used, was full of the most fantastic monuments, statues and baroque architecture everywhere, with one especially fascinating one, decorated with marble pillars and surrounded by an old iron railing. Everyone taking masses of photographs as we leaned against the Monument.

The atmosphere had a kind of lost and forgotten feeling about it as we wandered through the sea of tombstones, overgrown, some rather beautiful, others grotesque, and some gaudy ones with the occasional horror. One rather odd thing was that the form of a dove appeared carved on the edge of a tombstone several times.

Papa was looking all the time for a tombstone with a schooner carved into it and eventually found it rambling through the endless maze. One part which was completely overgrown with a carpet of ivy. All very romantic. To get to this tombstone one had to cross this mass of ivy, which literally was like stepping on a feather bed or like ‘walking on air’, as I pointed out. John immediately folded up like Charlie Chaplin or somebody and lay immersed in ivy.

It was too funny for words, following his example we did likewise, it was the most intoxicating feeling, one that is difficult to describe but incredibly marvellous. One can literally flop down straight like on this soft bed and it was so comfortable. We did it again and again and looked too hilarious. I have never seen anything so funny as John doing it though then lying full stretch with ivy pulled right over his face. Mamma took endless photographs of this priceless scene which no one is likely to forget. We must have looked completely bonkers and slightly mad flopping down among the ivy which was six inches thick at least, exactly like the most super mattress.

Wandering down, the church was locked but as John pointed out not likely to be very exciting inside though I did long to have a glimpse.

Winding down that very steep road on Portland Bill, we could see the magnificent view of the Chesil Beach stretching in a huge curve to Lyme Regis, the white foam like icing sugar tapping the pebble shore.

We made our way through very pretty country past divine villages such as Abbotsbury and then on to home, arriving at five which was pretty good going, and had tea with the donkey in the summer house. Tea was rather chilly but there were bright patches of sunlight now and then shearing through the bushy curtains which covers Humphrey’s (Emma’s brother) kind of structure of poles joined on to the old rickety summer house. All in all today was a great success.