What do I make of the Isle of Wight? Mixed bag, really. I was expecting it to be quaint and old-fashioned. Although I saw some little clusters of thatched houses and pubs, there are sprawling 20th century suburbs like everywhere else, and all the familiar names: Morrison, Sainsbury, Co-op, Aldi and Lidl. Traffic, even off-season, was busy in the towns and on the main roads, and there was no shortage of aggressive young drivers in white vans.
But the landscape is varied, ranging from bleak moorland to spectacular coastal scenery, and the place was blooming fit to bust with subjects that wouldn’t stand a chance further north. The gardens at Osborne are a picture at the moment, and even at the IoW Steam Railway, the roses have responded well to my kind of pruning (hard!) and look really healthy and promising.
The railway visit was fun but rather expensive. Pre-war rolling stock hauled by an ex-Army saddle tank 0-6-0. Very comfortable, in stark contrast to modern rolling stock. There is also an interesting and well-labelled museum. Primroses and wind anemones in profusion along the track side, and of course lots of blossom in the trees. We filled Monday with visits: the donkey sanctuary in the morning and Osborne House and gardens in the afternoon. The donkey sanctuary is much bigger than we’d expected: they have about 180 donkeys, a mule and a white pony. The donkeys are lovely tranquil beasts - except when they bring round a barrow of hay!
Osborne is spectacular and period-correct ostentatious. Vulgar though it all is, you cannot but admire the workmanship, particularly of the ceilings. Lots of well-informed and enthusiastic volunteers to explain stuff as you go round. My step count for the day was close to three times my target, so I was a shade footsore by evening.
Between the two visits we went across to Ryde for a stroll round and fish and chips on the Esplanade, and watched the hovercraft leaving and returning on the short crossing to Portsmouth. Part of the reason for going there was that there is an EV charging point in the car park closest to the seafront: it delivered a full charge while we explored and had lunch. Glad I’ve got the hang of that at last. Much dearer than charging at home overnight, of course, but it’s still cheaper than combustion fuel.
Our digs were expensive and disappointing. The kitchen was well-equipped but cheaply furnished, and we had to wash most of the crockery, cutlery and pans before we could use them. Storage space everywhere bar the kitchen was close to non-existent, and we had to buy toilet and kitchen paper, as well as seasonings, which we usually expect to find in holiday lets. Granted, they had provided a pint of milk, but we’d brought that anyway. We’ve had bigger and better flats for substantially less, even in Switzerland. But the place was quiet, and the view was stupendous.
We got to Fishbourne this morning in time for the ferry before the one we’d booked, so were in Pompey by the time we were due to leave Fishbourne. Not a bad drive home (particularly since Martyn drove!) but the noisy M25 surface on much of the south-west seems to be exaggerated by the low profile tyres on the present car: most unpleasant. Anyway, we were home in time for lunch of the sandwiches I’d expected to have somewhere en route.
The garden has not stood still, and the grass now definitely wants a cut! Token gardening today: I’ve dead-headed a few daffs and hauled out a handful of weeds. We seem to have had some decent rain while we were away: the big water butt is full to the brim. Where we were, I think there was overnight rain one night, but we didn’t get wet: temperatures were on the chilly side, particularly first thing, but we were able to get out in the fresh air: not bad for a British April.
