We awoke in the hostel without breakfast – Portland YHA didn’t provide meals in those days. Fortunately the staff were only too happy to point us towards the naval base at Castletown again, and a place called the Aqua Hotel. We felt distinctly out of place, as the café there was full of sea-salty types wandering in and out in their sou’westers, all of whom appeared to know each other. Nevertheless, they were unfailingly friendly towards us and we were served with a huge fry-up to set us on our way.

As well as the Aqua Hotel and countless squaddies, Castletown contains, as it’s name suggests, Portland Castle. The squat shape of this interesting Henrican fort peers myopically out over Portland Harbour, and is well worth a visit – the exhibits are excellent, as is the location! Entrance is free for English Heritage members.

Leaving Castletown we braved a horde of dogs (everyone on Portland seems to own at least three of the beasts) and a steep hill to reach yet more evidence of Portland’s fortified past. The Verne Citadel is huge, dark and ominous, looking every part the baddies’ lair. This is appropriate enough given that it’s now a prison. However, it started out life as a fortress holding up to a thousand troops to defend the isle. It certainly looks the part, whether for keeping invaders out or keeping prisoners in – the bulky walls rise sheer to a great height above a deep encircling ditch, crossed in just one place by a narrow bridge. The siting of the Verne at the highest point on the isle, with steep slopes dropping away on three sides, merely serves to make it look still more impregnable.

Nearby are yet more defensive structures – the earth banks and concrete tunnels that are all that remains of the high angle battery. The guns here were, as the name suggests, built to fire projectiles on a high trajectory, in the hope that they would drop down through the decks of attacking ships. The idea behind this was that the decks were more susceptible to attack than the stronger hulls, but the guns quickly became obsolete and were abandoned.

Rounding the Verne and a nearby young offender’s institution we finally came to the top of the cliffs of Portland. Here they have collapsed to form a low rough plateau far below; much of this is occupied by further naval activity. From atop the cliffs we could see the whole Dorset coastline that we had just walked, back as far as St Aldhelm’s Head where we had had lunch three days before!

As well as military activity, Portland is famed for quarrying – or more accurately, the Portland Stone that the quarries produce. We passed the first of the quarried now, an enormous hole in the landscape, heavy machinery looking tiny (but still sounding noisy) far below. With the rate of extraction that appeared to be happening, we wondered how long the isle would still be here!

The quarries ended as we rounded a corner and sighted Rufus Castle, a squat square block of stone situated impressively atop a prominent rocky bluff. You might be forgiven for feeling that we’d already seen our fair share of castles since leaving Weymouth; surely the area couldn’t need yet another one? But this castle was from a far earlier era than the others around Portland Harbour; this one was from the Norman era, built by William Rufus (or more likely by his employees!).

After a brief bit of road walking we returned to the coast. Here, nearing the southern end of the island, the cliffs were much lower; in fact we were at times only a few metres above sea level. The path had grown a lot rougher too, weaving its way through a rocky barren landscape, but this was still easy walking compared to the mainland section we’d already completed. Here there was another quarry, now abandoned. Bizarrely, a small pillar of rock had been left behind near the path – we reckoned that with trainers it would have been reasonably easy to scale, but weren’t about to try it in heavy walking boots.

The landscape inland grew ever more flat and barren as we neared the southern tip of the island. Portland is shaped like a giant ice cream, with the point of the cone represented by the Bill of Portland, and Chesil Beach and the road to the mainland forming a giant flake inserted into the ice cream at a jaunty angle. It even slopes upwards to the widest part of the cone. The Bill of Portland, which we were now approaching, is dominated by the island’s most famous feature – the red and white striped pepper pot that is the Portland Bill lighthouse.

I have to say, I’m not sure what the fuss is all about. It is after all just a lighthouse, albeit a brightly coloured one. There are hundreds of them around the coast. So why does this one warrant all the car parks filled with tourists who have probably bypassed all the other (much better, in my opinion) sights of Portland just to gain a quick photo of this? I mean, it’s not even situated atop dramatic cliffs or anything. The gently sloping cone of Portland just descends into the sea almost unnoticed, just beyond the lighthouse.

That said, there is some pretty unusual scenery around Portland Bill. At points, the rocky surface is rent by deep cracks and gorges, and the scarcity of vegetation does lend an almost lunar quality to the surroundings. Perhaps the natural highlight here is the Pulpit Rock. Here a sea-bound rock stack has been made accessible from the shore by a giant slab of rock that leans against it almost vertically. Tiny foot holes have been cut into this slab, so that the surefooted may climb up “at their own risk”. I had climbed it earlier in the year when visiting with my wife, and it had been a fairly frightening experience. I do have a slight (but frankly justified) fear of cliffs. To get from the top of the slab onto the Pulpit Rock stack you have to step across a gap of two feet through which you can see a drop of several dozen feet to the sea. It scared me rigid, and I challenged Jim to follow in my footsteps. Annoyingly he undertook the task swiftly and fearlessly.

As to man-made sights, far better than the lighthouse is a nearby tea shack that served us a delicious cream tea with the softest and most delicious tray-baked scones I’ve had in my life. Having said that, the cream was a little too rich for me at midday, and I felt slightly ill and very thirsty for a while afterwards.

Leaving Portland Bill, we completed out circuit of the isle by walking up the west side of the cone. The path ascended gently but continuously and soon we were walking along pleasantly soft grass at the top of sheer but crumbling cliffs. This side of the island seemed much greener, more tamed and therefore less exciting than the rocky east coast we’d already walked. It was pleasant but never spectacular. At times we passed close behind houses. The occupants of these houses must be worried about the cliffs – we soon came to a stretch where unstable cliffs forced the path inland on a diversion. We left the coast on a path that took us through the choking dust and noise of an active quarry (Bowers Quarry to be precise), followed by a short road walk past a church and cemetery before returning to the coast via yet more rumbling quarries.

We’d now walked over two miles at a high-speed yomp since Portland Bill, and had seen nothing to induce us to stop or take a photo. This was to change at Tout Quarry. First of all, the views were spectacular – laid out in front of and below us was the full 18-mile length of Chesil Beach, stretching northwestward to join the coast of Dorset far off on the horizon. Secondly, the path itself was stunning, weaving its way in and out of low cliffs and rocky gullies, clearly residues of the quarrying. Finally, Tout Quarry itself has been turned into a sculpture park, with meandering paths running through all the holes of the quarry. You can explore freely; sculptures are scattered around for you to find (some of them you have to look quite carefully to see). Our favourite was a somewhat dilapidated triangular rock arch built over one of the entrances to the quarry, designed to frame the view of Chesil Beach and the mainland.

From Tout Quarry it’s just a brief stroll down a steep hill between houses and the coast to reach the southern end of Chesil Beach, where we got a bus to Weymouth Station and returned home (my wife said “is that a tan or are you just filthy?” – I’d like to make it clear that as it didn’t wash off, it had to be a pretty heavy tan!).

The stroll round Portland had felt fantastic; we’d not got out of breath once or felt even slightly tired in nine miles. I was quite amazed how fit I’d become over the past five days, and swore I’d keep myself fit in future (a promise that lasted ooh, at least a couple of days).

Portland’s lovely scenery, views and the plethora of castles and other sights had been a splendid finale to five fantastic days’ walking. We both knew that we’d be returning to the coast path again, and we were now hooked on hiking. I’d recommend this section of coast path to anyone; the circumnavigation of Portland in particular makes for a fantastic half-day walk, and allows you plenty of time to explore all the sights. Go for it!