The Dorset seaside town declaring war on coffee

By the time you read this, it may be too late for Christchurch. The 50,000-odd souls of this Dorset seaside town are being terrorised by a remorseless foe. Slowly but surely, the enemy advances. As a local shopkeeper warned the nation in The Sun last month, Christchurch finds itself in a “crazy situation”.

You must be wondering what it is that is leaving such a bitter taste in the mouth, and the answer is… coffee shops. There are 14 on the high street, apparently, which means that, on average, there’s one every 38 yards. Councillors were so concerned, the story went, that they allowed a plot to remain empty rather than allow a new coffee shop to open there. 

Mike Ismail, the quoted shopkeeper and part-time drawbridge puller-upper, explained that “custom has reduced hugely because there are too many of us”. I didn’t want to get too alarmist about the whole thing, but Ismail sounded like a fair-minded sort of guy who would have no interest in exaggerating the threat to Christchurch. If current rates of coffee shop expansionism continued, I fretted, the town’s magnificent Norman priory might be a Starbucks within the fortnight. 

Armed only with loyalty cards for each of the UK’s major coffee shop chains, I took the train to Christchurch on a cold and drizzly Tuesday. It was the kind of day that makes you much less likely to visit attractions than simply to hole up in a steamy-windowed café. It was the kind of day that, and I’m not being funny here, makes you grateful for a high street that’s been remorselessly bastardised into a parade of Big Coffee stooges. 

They and the rest of the high street run southwards into the older end of Christchurch, which is dotted with remnants of its medieval past. Looming over the shops, the fat, grey cuboid of Christchurch Priory’s tower is the most visible of these remnants, but there are haggard ruins here and there of the Norman castle complex that once controlled the harbour. (The priory, I should clarify, is a church rather than a rehab clinic for local caffeine addicts.)

Spending time at the harbour seemed redundant on such a wet day, but Hengistbury Head, which is the scrubby headland that curves out of Christchurch and into the English Channel, was scenic and peaceful. It was also fairly blustery and chilly. 

Walking stiffly back into town, I realised that I needed perking up and warming up, and that there was one heated and caffeinated beverage in particular that would do the job. 

The coffee

I didn’t fancy getting heart palpitations, so I didn’t try each of the 14 coffee shops. On a wet and windy day, though, Arcado Lounge was cosy, friendly and relaxed. Coast Coffee was nice too. For a full meal, try The Jetty, the well-reviewed seashore restaurant that’s part of the nearby Harbour Hotel.

The castle

Fearing it was too defensible, Cromwell destroyed most of Christchurch Castle, but the keep is still sort of there, and so are a few walls of a large riverside house. You’ll have missed the kitchen by a few centuries, so bring your own coffee.

The priory

Not actually a priory any more but still worth visiting. Look for the “miraculous beam”, a handy bit of woodwork said to have been carved by a mysterious undocumented labourer known as Jesus Christ. Has a coffee shop, obviously.

The head

Hengistbury Head has a long, shingly beach, but is best at this time of year for walks. Coffee opportunities are more scarce on protected land, but there is still a café.

The museum

Within a shortish drive of Christchurch there’s Bournemouth Aviation Museum and the Sammy Miller Motorcycle Museum but, for local history, visit the Red House Museum, which used to be a workhouse. It, too, has a café.