Thursday 15th February 2024

Thursday, and the final day of the audit, and even better news was that it wasn't going to be a full day.

In fact we did not have to leave the hotel until after half eight, then drive to a different site in Newport, and do our auditing there.

We were done by eleven, so a dash back to the hotel to drop off our work things and for me to grab my camera bag, and the rest of the day was ours.

As I waited for Askil to come out of the hotel I could hear the mighty throb of powerful marine engines, and a black MTB thing with no markings except X-01 made out in shiny paint among the matt finish of the rest of the boat.

All black of course.

I was going to show Askil Godshill and then maybe go to the far end of the island.

Who knew, least of all me.

Askil came out, so we climbed in the car, I programmed Godshill, which was half an hour away, and we set off for Newport and its crazy one way system, the sat nav taking us down the wrong road before we had to go round again.

The town was soon left behind, and for Askil who had not been further than Cowes or Newport, the rolling countryside, green fields and distant downlands were a delight for his eyes.

We parked on Church Hill, and as we walked to the church, the owner of two of the thatched cottages c had come out, so we chatted for ten minutes in which she explained having to deal with English Heritage and the Highways Agency.

Why they can't talk directly to each other rather than use her as a conduit is a mystery. Like some Kafkaesque tragedy.

We walked to the church. Walked back down again after I took more shots inside, then to find somewhere for lunch.

A nice thatched country pub I thought, but none were forthcoming.

One fine looking place with signposts, we discovered had closed, so we drove on to Yarmouth, and on the edge there was a family pub, they had seats and a good menu.

We ate there.

I had a ploughman's. A three cheese ploughman's, which came with what felt like an 8oz block of Cheddar, 6 of Stilton and a generous wedge of Brie.

And three slices of bread, slaw, three large pickled onions.

There was more than enough, what with three different pickles too.

After eating, I set the sat nav for The Needles, some 8 miles away. Closed roads made the trip "interesting", but we reach the car park, after a climb of two miles, but a few yards further on, land ended.

My knee made the case for staying in the car, so Askil went to walk to the Needles Battery and the fine views it has. I tried to read more of Frankenstein, until my eyes got heavy.

After an hour, Askil returned, enthused by the view and experience.

Shall we go back to the hotel?

We shall.

I took a wrong turn out of Freshwater, so we went along the southern coast, where the downland dropped away steeply from left to right, to the sea, at the their base, earthen cliffs, like in Norfolk, were surrendering to the waves at an alarming rate.

Then inland, going round Newport and along the north coast to Egypt Point and the hotel.

We booked dinner for half six, so I went to my room to take drugs and strong cuppas.

And so to our last meal, again in the hotel due to my knee.

I had haddock and chips, he had beef lasagne and chips. It was all very nice, if soul-less.

We paid our bills, as we were off at five in the morning, so that done, all there was left to do was to pack.