Last Days of Summer

We’ve had the most perfect bright September days – clear mornings, blue skies, and slanting sunlight. The country lanes have been full of my favourite colours: yellow ochre, moss green, and chestnut brown. Bonfire smoke has replaced the barbecues, and the beaches now have more dog walkers than deckchairs. It’s been a delicious change in season.

Today is the last official day of summer. I’ve eked out these last sunny days with early morning starts, bike rides to work, and going the long way home. Rain is due on Sunday and I can enjoy the excuse for some reading and baking, knowing I made the most of these last few days of summer.

The trials of Island living

Yesterday we reluctantly watched the Red Funnel ferry depart without us, and with it, our plans to see James Yorkston & The Athletes’ 10th Anniversary performance of Moving Up Country. A midday mechanical failure on one of the ships was still causing chaos in East Cowes by late afternoon and our ferry was so delayed we couldn’t make it to the gig that I was so excited about.

The ferry’s aren’t having a good time of it, what with this plus last week’s festival traffic chaos. And so ensues the usual rants about what a ‘nightmare’ it is being ‘trapped’ on an island, beholden to unpredictable and expensive boat travel, and in need of a fixed link. The woman behind me in the queue yesterday was keen to tell everyone that she’d lived on the Isle of Wight for “five impossible years” and now she was moving away and couldn’t wait to leave. I’m sure she’ll be far happier Up Mainland.

But, for me these few ferry fiascos don’t come near to the more common travel trials of motorway traffic, noisy aeroplane flight paths, and trains stuffed full of commuters. I’d rather miss the odd gig, and console myself with a walk along the beach, or a beer on the seafront. Half the charm of this place is its slow pace, haphazard muddles and ‘behind the times’ inefficiencies. Maddening and comforting in equal measure.

Grey to green

We had heavy rain overnight and woke to grey foreboding skies. I was envisaging a day spent with tea and a book and quickly got to some baking. But no sooner had the caramel set than the sun came out. Just in time for a mini adventure to a favourite spot before tea.

West along the coast from where we live is Newtown, a little one road hamlet with a history of far greater things. In the fourteenth century it was a thriving community, and there remain reminders of its ancient past, in the old salt pans, the ‘Francheville’ town sign, and the beautifully restored old town hall. But now it feels like a perfect backwater, with the harbour walk being the main event, and lending itself to nothing more than a quiet meander.

In this summer wind the meadows were alive with butterflies and blossoms and the quiet rushing of leaves. A perfect quiet Sunday wander, and home in time to add the chocolate layer to these homemade twix bars. Yum.

Nice day for a wight walk

After doing the Randonnee last weekend, I thought I was plenty prepared for Walking the Wight. So now I feel a little sheepish in admitting to hobbling around the house since arriving home a few hours ago, nursing sugary tea and tiffin cake. Whenever I stand up for a tea top-up, my legs quickly remind me that I walked 26.5miles today (and yes, that final 1/2 mile has to be counted.)

Walk the Wight is a big annual event on the Island calendar, with thousands of walkers trekking across fields, through forests, and over downs, to raise money for the Earl Mountbatten Hospice. This year was the 21st in its illustrious history, originally started by two local guys and now drawing crowds over 8000. I don’t know the official count this year, but with sunny skies and light breezes, it seemed that everyone was out soaking it all up.

We had the best weather in years, with a misty morning start at Bembridge. We walked with the sun at our backs, amongst crowds of people strolling on morning-fresh legs and gently chatting. And with blue skies all day, the Mountbatten’s sunflower emblem seemed particularly fitting.

The fresh legs didn’t last, and the moan-to-chat ratio was a little higher by the end of the day. But, chivvied on by friendly faces, local ice cream and the end in sight, we made it up over Tennyson Down and in to the cheery finish at Alum Bay. Across the Island in 8 hours = muscle ache and a proud grin.

The first of many

An extra hour of sunlight this evening seemed the perfect excuse for a beach barbecue, and this gorgeous weather is just asking to be enjoyed! We’ve spent the last few days out in the fresh air, riding round Briddlesford and walking up Appuldurcombe.

This has been the first weekend of the year that we have ended with a barbecue at the ‘secret beach’ (which is made no less secret by all the locals calling it this.) With delicious food, cold beer, and warm sea air, this feels a good start to British Summer Time.