14th February 2010
The Red Flag
A long ride along the southern coastal road
gave me splendid views of the coast. From St Catherine's Head, I cycled down to
Blackgang Chine, reviving memories of family holidays there. It is amazing how
what one perceives to be a huge injustice as a child stays with you. During one
such family holiday, at the theme park sort of place here at Blackgang Chine,
Mum and Dad had photographed my brother, Paul with my sister, Donna. They did
not photograph me! As a ten year old with large ears that stuck out perpendicular
to my head, I think they were worried about the camera. The fact that they had
put both my siblings in the medieval stocks when taking the photograph was not lost
on me. I sulked.
The straight road went from here towards
Freshwater Bay and a car park overlooking same area had parts that had been
washed away by coastal erosion. Chalk cliffs are always on the move.
Into the village itself to meet Daphne, Mike and Caroline for a day's birding. We walked along an old, disused railway line that had been converted into a lovely bridleway. Caroline was a bundle of birding energy, constantly disappearing to search every hedgerow, every muddy creek and every shallow pool. Birds were found; waders such as Black-tailed Godwits, Redshank and Curlew with a Kingfisher seen well near a small bridge.
On reaching Yarmouth Harbour we said our goodbyes and I caught the ferry over to Lymington. By now the evening light was dimming and drizzle was replacing what had been quite a sunny day.
No room at the inn, I went into the only place that advertised vacancies, the Conservative Club! Now I have been an enthusiastic member of a different political party since I was eighteen. Back in the early 1970s I had been going with a group of lads in a clapped out Vauxhall Viva to Aston Villa away matches and seeing the conditions of the slum areas around Millwall Football Club had got me thinking about class privilege, Comrade. The camaraderie of those long gone days when four of us, and occasionally five, crammed into the small car and travelled to exotic football locations like Carlisle, Grimsby and Bradford, was fabulous. Humour, banter and singing no matter what the result, though obviously more ecstatic on those occasions when we, Aston Villa, did win.
The Villa did win most matches back
then as we were in what was then called the Third Division. Different days now
in so many ways.
On this miserable, wet evening in Lymington I was unwilling to sleep rough and swallowing my socialist principles, I entered the club and was shown to a wonderfully comfortable room.
Downstairs a lovely
group of older people were playing bingo and being game for a laugh I went and
joined in. Blow me down if I did not win the first game! I did not pay tax on
the £5 winnings.
20.94 miles
1270 feet elevation up 1481 feet down
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