If I said it was another sunny day today, I would be lying. But it was dry, breezy and unseasonably mild, and really more than acceptable for cycling in November. And so my quest moved another two maps closer to being complete, and I clocked up another couple of ferries that delivered me first onto and then back off the Isle of Wight. I spent little more than an hour actually on the island, cycling east between the ports of Yarmouth, near the island’s western tip, and Cowes, which is basically top centre. It felt only right. The island is large and it occupies the bottom half of OS map 196. It couldn’t be ignored.
To get there, I had to first reach the mainland port of Lymington. This lies at the southern tip of the New Forest and about an hour’s cycle along the coast from the large built-up area made up of Poole, Bournemouth and Christchurch. Not wishing to spend the morning riding through urban sprawl, I made more or less directly for Christchurch from my overnight stop in Stourpaine, a village just outside the ”unique Georgian” town of Blandford Forum. This seemed like a perfectly pleasant small town; but Georgian or not, it was not especially memorable, to be honest.
Much more memorable, I thought, was the next town on my route, 10 miles away through a quiet valley. If you get the chance to visit Wimborne Minster, you should take it. It is a very attractive place that seems to have a bit of eveything, from excellent shops and cafes, to its impressive double towered minster church, to an independent period cinema, to a riverfront. I think I will be back. I managed to do a quick tour of the inside of the minster and was impressed by its rich Norman interior and unusual fourteenth century astronomical clock, depicting the Earth at the centre of the universe. There is also a small human figure high up on the side of the west tower that strikes a bell each quarter hour.
I had some trouble leaving Wimborne Minster. It has a fiendish one way system and not much useful signposting. But at the third attempt, I got onto the road to Christchurch, a rather busy B road, and managed to remain on it all the way into the historic town centre another 45 minutes or so away. Here is another fine, large and ancient Norman Priory church, well worth a visit. Round the back they have a nice little cafe, too, which was buzzing when I arrived. Twenty minutes later I was about the only customer. The others, apparently, had come for a free recital in the magnificent church, and the lady in the cafe confidently predicted they would all be back at the end.
Lymington has a large harbour full of expensive looking yachts. The car ferry to Yarmouth runs every two hours and I had timed it well. On board, there was barely time for a sandwich and a coffee before we arrived amongst more fancy yachts in Yarmouth, across the water on the Isle of Wight. It did feel a bit different here. Fewer trees, for one thing, I thought.
The ride to Cowes was pleasant enough and, like the rest of my day, fairly flat. I stayed here by the waterfront in 2002 on an extended family holiday arranged by my mum when all of her existing grandchildren were pre school age. I recall it being presented as a fait a complis that we would all avail of her generosity. Which, being good sons, we did. It was the week of the Round the Island yacht race and I have never seen so many boats out on the sea at once. Today, under thick cloud, Cowes was a good deal quieter. The fast passenger ferry whisked me away just as darkness began to fall, across some of the busiest shipping lanes in the world to Southampton Water, where the lights of the large docks and the oil refinery began to twinkle.
