We’ve ditched the canal boat - not in a quasi-catastrophic waterways-rage sense, just inasmuch as we haven’t booked one this year. Otherwise we’re copying and extending two of last year’s UK tours. Bournemouth replaces the canal, then we repeat Cotswolds and Rutland but then go on to the Lakes, Northumberland and Derbyshire for familiar but not recent places of adventure.
We decided not to return to last year’s hotel in Bournemouth, not because it was bad, but the room, albeit modern, was small and without a view. So we’ve moved across the road, nearer the sea and booked one with not only a view but a balcony too - perfect for blog-writing! Having said all that the pubic rooms look like something out of “A Cuckoo’s Nest” but I’m probably being extra-mean here, maybe we’ll stick to our balcony just to be safe anyway.
It’s been a long hard slog over the winter, working harder than ever and just hating the cold wet weather, we’re both really in need of a change and a rest. Although we’ve had a cruise booked for these three weeks we were certain it wouldn’t happen so we craftily also booked all the UK stuff on top months ago, safe in the knowledge we could cancel if our cruise was suddenly enabled again. Sadly it’s not and we’ve moved it forwards yet again to July 2022.
A mamouth packing effort in executed by Hubby whilst I’m working on company auditions stuff - unexpectedly needed sooner than planned. We’re all packed and ready to leave just after 10:00.
Driving south on the same route we have taken fortnightly for decades until recently, we decided to stop at Highclere for the first time, not to visit as it’s closed, but just to see if we could peak at Downton in the distance. Not an option but it was a nice wander we’ve never taken before and perfect time for our car-picnic. Further on we stop in Winchester, refuse to pay £10 each to go into the cathedral so wander around the beautiful old town for a while before embarking on the final few miles to Bournemouth. Miraculously we’ve swerved almost all the rain, and what bit there was got deflected over the screen, without need to put the roof on.
Winchester is lovely, and sort-of southern York but even more important as it was the capital of England before London. Alfred the Great was here in the later part of the 800s. The city is tiny and only a quarter of the population of York, or a tenth that of Sheffield.
Hubby reversed his role to do all the unpacking whilst I’m back on auditions, then we’re walking down to that epicentre of seaside-life, the pier, and wandering along the coast for a few miles. We go as far as the Branksome Cafe to check the menu in advance of our planned visit later in the week, then head back, somehow finding room for ice cream (“card machine not working, cash only” - yeah) and then craftily picking up provender for the balcony.
Chardonnay on the balcony gives us time to finish the half-read Sunday papers and enjoy our expensive view.
A cheeky Italian is scheduled for tonight.
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