Wednesday, 8 April 2015

The exotic Isle of Wight

This easter we went to the notoriously luxurious and exotic Isle of Wight, full of gorgeous people, hot sun and azure seas. I wish. It is, however, packed with nice little days out, and lots of places to eat. Not exciting exactly, but nice. I'll post a little more about the specifics if you like, but for now here's a list of the things me and my family did, to either inspire or warn you.

Osborne house

We packed a lot in, and completely got our moneys worth (especially as it was a relatively cheap mini holiday). The ferry there was a bit iffy, and pretty darn small, but it wasn't rough or anything, and it was only a 20 minute ride. It was almost completely empty, mostly because we were on it at the ungodly hour of half past five. In the morning. Am. Before breakfast. I have no idea who decided that this would be a good idea, but anyway.

On the first day we managed to find a kind of smeggy little cafe that opened pretty early. It wasn't bad really, although because I'm stuck up I felt it could do with a little more class, if you know what I mean. I think it was the sheer quantity of grease that they stuffed into a small plate under various different guises that I objected to the most. It was fun though, in a strange way. Later in the day we went to Osbourne house, which used to be the home of queen Victoria, and is (understandably, as she was the queen, and Britain was rich) huge. I felt pretty proud of myself afterwards, like I'd just done a full two hours of classwork, plus a long walk. Talking of long walks though, the one we did the next day made a wander through a Osbone pale in comparison.

And the walk stretched on.
We walked, get this, eight miles! Yes, eight! *unimpressed silence falls* . Well, it might not seem all that impressive to you walking types, but for me and my little unfit legs I may as well have walked to the moon and back, rather than to a National Trust property that is basically the vague trailing off of the Isle of Wight.
The Needles
Surprisingly, the family got on quite well together, even with prolonged contact and forced interaction. I even managed to bully them all into going to a place that was in the book I was reading at the time, and there were no major arguments, and it didn't take all that long for my siblings to stop giving me cold glares and pointed silences. The place I wanted to go was the Devils Chimney, and to be fair to me it was actually pretty amazing. It was two sheer walls of rock, stretching up from a path where the steps were at a diagonal because the entire thing was practically slipping into the sea. Thankfully, it held up while we were there, although the enormously fat dog being carried by the grumpy woman we met before going back up again may have dislodged the cliff face by now.
The Devil's Chimney

In short, we had a brilliant time. I don't know if the Isle of Wight has recovered yet from my dad making impressions of the man with loud laugh in our restaurant (while the man was still on the table next to us... He seemed to leave pretty quickly after they finished eating), or from the transportation of most of their interesting rocks back to England (courtesy of my sister). Oh well, They've got a whole year before we come back.