Tuesday 10th July 2018

I am off to the Isle of Wight, I can drive, which means having a hire car, and the pan was for Jools to drop me off in town so I could take more snaps of the St James Development before walking through East Cliff to the port and collect the car.

More shops are now occupied, though not half, but it looks better, not popular enough as yet to charge for parking though it seems.

I walk along the promenade, then over Townwall Street to the port and into the terminal where those foot passengers were waiting for the shuule bus, including a party of schoolchildren who looked very bored.

I am given the key to a C Class Mercedes, which is good as I have miles to do.

I go back home for breakfast and to pack and wrap up some loose ends for work before loading the car at ten, and setting off.

I stop off in north Kent to look at the colony of Green Flowered Helleborines; they grown in the verge of a layby on a busy road, but they do well there, and this is the only place in Kent where they grow. But someone had strimmed half of the spikes, and others were infested with blackfly, with just four decent spikes showing, and of course, none of the flowers were open.

My friend Mark was there, also there to snap the poor showing of orchids. We swap news, and I turn round to get back to the motorway, but the sat nav thinks I should go a less travelled way, up through the fields of the lavender farm, over the downs before joining the M25 further west.

And for once the motorway was so free of traffic, driving was almost a pleasure. No hold ups until I turn off heading south west on the M3, through the Surrey hills.

I saw a huge plume of smoke, like a forest on fire, as I neared Winchester; a moor was burning, not as bad as in Lancashire, but it turned the sunny day to dusk while I drove though the plume.

I follow the satnav through Southampton to the port and ferry terminal. I wish I could say something nice about the city, but I was concentrating on getting to the ferry, so missed most of it.

I had missed a sailing by three minutes, so parked up and went into the diner for lunch of a burrito and a coke, which hit the spot. Not much else to than to wait for the ferry to arrive then the cars and trucks unload, queuing to get on the the main road outside. The we could board, and I was second on, up a roller coaster of a ramp with a sharp bend that I doubted the Merc would take, but it does. Once secred, I grab cameras and walk up the tree flights of steps to the upper sun deck, taking a position on the railing at the back to watch as the other cars were allowed on, and admiring the views over the city skyline.

Dead on three we cast off, moving out into the channel and along the Solent, quickly gathering pace.

And it was a stunning day; the sun shone down again after the cloudy start, it was hot and not a breath of wind to disturb the water, and we were just cooled by the movement of the ferry.

It is half an hour out into the Solent proper, and from there we could get our first glimpse of the island, from between the minarets of the oil refinery.

We pass and old circular fort on a spit of land, then we're in open water. Ferries and wave piercers pass us going back to the mainland. Is this what people see in cruising? I guess so.

East Cowes hoves into view, and on the other side of the river, Cowes itself, which I imagined to a be St Margaret's with better weather, a little bit up itself. But that would be for later.

We berth and are allowed back to our cars, and I am second off too, my destination was Ryde where there was a railway station a a pier. Also, the Island Line runs old London Underground stock, ex 1938 Bakerloo stock I think, and so the chance to ride on these before they are replaced, as they will be.

The Island is mostly farmland, dotted with picturesque villages and farms, all on rolling chalk downland, which makes it quite Kentlike. I liked it.

Soon I have turned off the main road to drive into Ryde, the school run over so traffic was fine, until I get to the steep streets of the town leading to the promenade. I had no idea where I was going to be honest, but that's half the fun.

I follow what counts as the main road, twisting and turning through 90 degree bends until suddenly I am at the promenade and opposite was the pier, which is where I wanted to go.

And I find a parking space nearby, grabbing my camera and quickly dashing off to the over bridge in case a train would come.

But I see something even better. Yes, I know how hard that is to believe, but a passenger hovercraft was powering up and lifting up, so as I got to the top of the bridge and ran off some shots, it turned gracefully down the apron crossing the sand and onto, or more accurately, on the water, quickly speeding off and was gone.

I walk back to the station at the end of the pier, and there was a train to the station at the end in a few minutes, so I find a machine to get a ticket, then take up position on the platform to snap it when it emerged from the tunnel a hundred yards away.

It comes into view, a 3 car unit, brightly painted, and pulls into the station, so I go to get on the last carriage, snapping a shot of the interior.

From the station the line runs over what looks to be a pier that is frankly, falling down. All the metal is brown and rusted, and where additional lines used to run beside is all gone and all left is the rotted and rusted age old supports, looking like a rusting skeleton.

The trip is just three minutes, but I am happy with that, so get off but I am the only one going to walk back, as all the other passengers walk to the ferry terminal for a trip to Portsmouth.

The way back was along a shared pier with cars, on wooden planks, all shiny thanks to constant use over many years, and to the left was the pier used by the Island Line, and between the ribs of the old abandoned tracks, with the sea below.

I had the shot I wanted; side on with the tracks, sea and horizon, and shooting high speed as the red bodies train left for the mainland. I heard it leave, lined up the shot, happy with that, I pressed the shutter, and in ten seconds fired off close to 100 shots, but got the nose of the train in the edge of one shot, and the passing of the first carriage, all with the bright colours of the sky, train and sea.

I walk to the mainland, and my mind was now on a refreshing beer, so spot a pub opposite, go in and order a pint of local, and was presented with the old fashioned British beer, dark, flat and warm. Tasted OK, but not what I had in mind if I'm honest.

I sit outside a chap to an old chap; he said he was from Arbroath, but had long lost his accent, and retured here, and very happy with those turn of events he was.

It was five, so I had better make my way to the hotel. Back at the car I program in the address of the hotel, and off I go, retracing my steps back to Cowes, but taking a different route in, now on the other side of the river.

Cowes was, and still is a fishing town, as well as home to the yachting set. It is a fine old town laid out along narrow streets and alleyways, totally unsuitable for the 21st century. I follow the sat nav to a dead end, turn into what used to be the courtyard of the pub/hotel, but is now the bus stop for foot passengers for yet another ferry service; a hydrofoil to Southampton.

I park and go in to ask where to park; and was told go out, turn left three times and park behind Marks and Spencer.

So I go back to the car and follow the directions, and in time find two car parks, find a space in the larger one, and from the board I see it is free from six in the evening to eight in the morning. I look at my watch, five past six.

So I get my bags out and find my way to the main street, walk down that to the hotel.

I am in room 5, on the 3rd floor. And there is no lift. I climb up carrying my three bags, and by the time I am at th my room door, I am hot. Once I open the door I am even hotter, as it faces west, and the afternoon sun has been pouring for hours, and it is roasting. The sash window is open as wide as it will go. This was as good as it would get.

I suppose I could have asked for a new room, but I decide to make the best of it.

I close the curtains, not that it made much difference, but anyway. So I have a cold shower to see if that helped. It did, for 5 minutes.

At half six I go down to the bar where a table was waiting for me with views to the large screen TV ready for the France v Belgium game, which kicked off at seven. Which means I can eat whilst the game is playing out, so order garlic and chili king prawns followed by a Wagu burger. But both courses arrived at the same time, so I eat the prawns then start on the burger. Only to be told once I was halfway through I had been given someone else's meal.

I shrug and say I will eat that anyway, and the poor guy has to wait for a new meal to be cooked either way.

France outplay Belgium, but only score the one goal, but it was enough, and go through. Just before the end of the game, my colleague, Tim arrives and joins me at the table for a beer and dinner of his own.

Back in my room, it was still like a sauna, and outside the noise from people drinking, laughing and shouting made sleep impossible, even with earplugs in.

At some point, after midnight, I do drop off. So endeth another day.