Sunday on the Isle of Wight

First thing on Sunday, Neil and I slept in. The breakfast at the hotel is served until noon on Sunday, luckily, so we were able to fortify ourselves before travelling. Where were we going? Southampton! We were to meet up with MA&A at the White Star Pub (from which the Titanic sailed, of course), because their Sat. night party was a kind of sleepover, and it was closer than going home. We got ourselves into the dock area, and enjoyed wandering, with a vague idea where we were headed. We were carrying Antoine’s phone, so with phoning, dead reckoning, a semi-useful map, and a lot of luck, we did indeed meet them. We had parked close to the pier for the Isle of Wight ferry, so that worked out well. It was expensive (Everything is expensive!!!) but how often do we get to go to the Isle of Wight? (I was not expecting it to be until the time When I'm Sixty-Four)

The ferry trip across The Solent (the strait between the English mainland and I. Wight) was a good way of seeing many, many boats and ships and vessels and maritime traffic. It takes under an hour and you land in the town of East Cowes (pronounced COWS), where there is a grand view of the water and some fine shipyards, but no pubs we could find for our lunch. Eventually, we took the “floating bridge” or “chain ferry” across to Cowes (still COWS) at the high price of 1.30 pounds (times 2.3 for C $). The crossing takes under 5 min. But on the other side there were shops and pubs and some very posh yacht-building and yacht-furnishing establishments. Cowes, as we were not aware, is a very important centre for racing and building yachts. Lunch: pub with good view of the water, average food, not too many smokers, expensive? Of course. Must stop thinking about the money!

Our original plan to make a circuit of the I of W fell victim to reality of time, and so we went down the middle to Newport, and over to the east side, to see a natural feature called a “chine” and the seashore at Shanklin. We saw a lot of tourists and tourist-attracting shops, and paid (too much of course) to walk down the path and steps in the lush green, mostly waterless Chine ( A chink or cleft; a narrow and deep ravine; as, Shanklin Chine in the Isle of Wight, a quarter of a mile long and 230 feet deep. ) and then we walked back up concrete steps along the steep cliff. All this fresh air was good for us, after sitting in the car and ferries…

Proceeding around to the north coast, we were aiming for a different ferry at Ryde. But that one was full for hours and hours, for those foolish folk who hadn’t made a reservation (a booking, it’s called here—but whatever it’s called, we didn’t have one). So we went back to East Cowes and parked near the ferry dock. Then we discovered that pedestrian passengers travelled free to Cowes or back, so we hopped on and went to the Duke of Something’s pub for a pint as we waited. Made it back to the big ferry in good time, and some of us had some cafeteria food and drink, as we crossed in the twilight and arrived in the dark.

The route home through Southampton’s suburbs took us through Hedge End and other quaintly named places. MA &A came in to the hotel to use the internet in our room, and we drove them home before everyone fell asleep.