When It Rained in London, We Went To Portsmouth
I had an urge to start a new blog today. I somehow thought that it would make it easier for me because I had set my standards too high and I could start lower. But I already have two blogs and neither are well know. Yet. And then I figured, it is my blog. I do what I want! So if I don't want to stick to a theme that I doubt I ever even really had, so be it!
Last Sunday I went to Portsmouth with my friend of 16 years. I find it hard to be spontaneous, so I wanted to change that, and impulsively decided we should go to the sea, right now, and then we happily planned it for an hour and booked tickets a week in advance.
As we approached the date, I became more and more excited, because I absolutely love the sea, and we had been having an almost Indian Summer and things were going to be fantastic and glorious, of course. Then they predicted a half good, half bad weekend. Saturday was amazing. I was in Edgware for the day, and it was cold-ish, but in a good, healthy, give-cheeks-ruddy-glow kind of way, smelling of Autumn and fresh hopes, whatever that means, and it was also very sunny and sometimes warm. But on Sunday they predicted buckets of rain. Or truckloads. Once you get the first bucket I guess it doesn't really matter anymore, you won't get wetter.
I got up at 6am on Sunday, looking remarkably like a hungover bear just out of hibernation, except smaller and colder. I don't even know how I managed to get dressed, have tea, make it to the bus stop with everything I needed and get on the correct bus. I regularly nearly miss stops due to being in a haze, so that was unexpected. Anyway, we made our way to Victoria and grabbed breakfast, and then found our coach. It was already raining by then, and it kept raining as we left London. We were happy we were leaving the rain. It was warm and comfy in the coach and I fell asleep soon after, waking up about 15 minutes from Portsmouth. And it was raining.
It rained on and off all day, mostly on. We spent some time in the mall to avoid the rain, which my dad thought was absolutely hilarious when he called and I told him we were 'shopping in Portsmouth'. (We ended up buying socks and a hat, which does seem pretty strange. But they were cool hats, you'll see.)
We did have a tremendously fun time in a shop called Lush, playing with moldable soap and trying out various products. We then had lunch in a pub and changed our wet socks (making those new socks very handy - as I said to my friend, it should become a rule of travel to always carry a spare pair of socks!) and I managed to finish my entire Sunday roast meal and then have dessert, and then I felt full and ill. So we walked it off by going back to our start point, and took photos of the HMS Warrior.
We ended up going along a sort of discovery trail, first by going to the seafront, where we got very wet and sought refuge in a lonely cafe for quite a while, and then back through Old Portsmouth, which was very interesting as little info points had been placed all around. So at least we learnt something. Much later, we half heartedly ate some sweet potato chips in another pub, still full from our lunch, and warmed up by the fire. Just as we were leaving, a guy came to set up a karaoke session. What a shame. We got back on the coach to London. Now that should have been the end and simple, but no. With all the works going on at Victoria station, it took ages to find our bus stop, which actually didn't exist, so we took a bus to Westminster, and it was of course raining still, so I was wet and cold and tired - it was past nine and I'd been up since six - plus her umbrella was broken and mine kept turning inside out with the wind so we weren't staying as dry as we'd like. I'd also by then slipped into one of my melancholic moods, so I was done for the night. We finally did get home, but it was very late and everything was very damp. I still stay it was a fun day. Or at least, an adventurous day. We were intrepid explorers, not deterred by weather or transportation problems..
But I think I shall limit my Sunday outings to anywhere I can get home quickly from, this winter.
If it rains in London, don't go to Portsmouth.
Last Sunday I went to Portsmouth with my friend of 16 years. I find it hard to be spontaneous, so I wanted to change that, and impulsively decided we should go to the sea, right now, and then we happily planned it for an hour and booked tickets a week in advance.
As we approached the date, I became more and more excited, because I absolutely love the sea, and we had been having an almost Indian Summer and things were going to be fantastic and glorious, of course. Then they predicted a half good, half bad weekend. Saturday was amazing. I was in Edgware for the day, and it was cold-ish, but in a good, healthy, give-cheeks-ruddy-glow kind of way, smelling of Autumn and fresh hopes, whatever that means, and it was also very sunny and sometimes warm. But on Sunday they predicted buckets of rain. Or truckloads. Once you get the first bucket I guess it doesn't really matter anymore, you won't get wetter.
I got up at 6am on Sunday, looking remarkably like a hungover bear just out of hibernation, except smaller and colder. I don't even know how I managed to get dressed, have tea, make it to the bus stop with everything I needed and get on the correct bus. I regularly nearly miss stops due to being in a haze, so that was unexpected. Anyway, we made our way to Victoria and grabbed breakfast, and then found our coach. It was already raining by then, and it kept raining as we left London. We were happy we were leaving the rain. It was warm and comfy in the coach and I fell asleep soon after, waking up about 15 minutes from Portsmouth. And it was raining.
It rained on and off all day, mostly on. We spent some time in the mall to avoid the rain, which my dad thought was absolutely hilarious when he called and I told him we were 'shopping in Portsmouth'. (We ended up buying socks and a hat, which does seem pretty strange. But they were cool hats, you'll see.)
We did have a tremendously fun time in a shop called Lush, playing with moldable soap and trying out various products. We then had lunch in a pub and changed our wet socks (making those new socks very handy - as I said to my friend, it should become a rule of travel to always carry a spare pair of socks!) and I managed to finish my entire Sunday roast meal and then have dessert, and then I felt full and ill. So we walked it off by going back to our start point, and took photos of the HMS Warrior.
We ended up going along a sort of discovery trail, first by going to the seafront, where we got very wet and sought refuge in a lonely cafe for quite a while, and then back through Old Portsmouth, which was very interesting as little info points had been placed all around. So at least we learnt something. Much later, we half heartedly ate some sweet potato chips in another pub, still full from our lunch, and warmed up by the fire. Just as we were leaving, a guy came to set up a karaoke session. What a shame. We got back on the coach to London. Now that should have been the end and simple, but no. With all the works going on at Victoria station, it took ages to find our bus stop, which actually didn't exist, so we took a bus to Westminster, and it was of course raining still, so I was wet and cold and tired - it was past nine and I'd been up since six - plus her umbrella was broken and mine kept turning inside out with the wind so we weren't staying as dry as we'd like. I'd also by then slipped into one of my melancholic moods, so I was done for the night. We finally did get home, but it was very late and everything was very damp. I still stay it was a fun day. Or at least, an adventurous day. We were intrepid explorers, not deterred by weather or transportation problems..
But I think I shall limit my Sunday outings to anywhere I can get home quickly from, this winter.
If it rains in London, don't go to Portsmouth.
Fun times Kerridwen!!
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