Wednesday 9th July 2022

Wedensday.

And still on the Island.

Through the night, yet more rain fell, and into the morning so I woke to the sound of yeat another cloudburst. But it should be clearing soon.

So, I lepa out of bed, do 50 press-ups, have a cold shower and am ready for the rigours of the day ahead, and in this I would be helped by a pot of black coffee and the finest sausage and bacon sandwich known to man.

And a man in the kitchen makes it for me, so all I have to do is eat it.

Non nom nom.

I drink the last dregs off the coffee, and I'm away to work.

It was supposed to be a slow and easy start, but I was summond to an emergency depatment meeting, and needed to be at the factory to get internet access.

Our soon-to-be-ex-boss is now offically our ex-boss, and we have a new interim manager.

That's it.

So on with the audit.

Outside, the clouds did clear and the sun did shine, and did shine into the meeting room where even in November was so warm the air conditioning could not cope and we got very warm indeed.

We broke for lunch, and talked about the struggles we face, and how jolly nice the Island is.

Well, it is.

We were done by half three, so I drove back to the hotel, wrote a little then decided I really should go an exercise my fat little legs, so should walk into Cowes for a pint at the Ale House, where there was a fine firkin of porter on.

But, before then, as I walked along the promenade, over the other side of the Solent, the just past full moon rose over the Pompy skyline. It was pretty breathtaking, I leaned on railings to watch it rise and get brighter and its yellow colour fade to pure white.

Dozens of other people were doing the same thing too.

And it was a free show.

My favourite price.

I walk into town and up the Ale House, a group of sailing types were talking over pints of fizzy Eurolager, so I order porter just because I can.

THere was a wide range of places to eat, most with lots of free tables.

I wasn't in a seafood modd, curry perhaps, but then at a restaurant I saw they had a dish called "sambal chicken". Sambal is a spicy chili sauce from Indonesia, that I sued to eat lots of when I was on the survey boats.

I asked, do you make your own sambal?

They did.

And cocktails were two for £15.

I order the sambal chicken and a marshmellow martini.

Very fuckin sophisticated.

The sambal was hot, just about bearable, but not not leave any doubt, it came with sliced fresh chilli, as did the Thai spiced cheesy chips.

I eat most of it all, then finish up with a "rhubarb and custard cocktail, which did mix quite poorly with the sambal on the walk back to the hotel.

Back to the hotel, I settle the bill and so all ready to leave in the morning, as I have to catch the six o'clock ferry.