The Tall Ships of Portsmouth

I have just had a chat (actually a video-call) to Mum and Dad using the wonder that is Skype. While I was serving the locals of Bath, pizza and pasta, they were eating crocodile up at the top end of Australia. I don't think my workmates believed me when I told them, they probably thought I was just another Aussie trying to pull their leg.

It has been a month now since I started working at Say Pasta and I'm already counting down the weeks until we can be off adventuring again. In the meantime, we're contenting ourselves with short breaks. We took a day trip to Bristol, which is less than 15 minutes from Bath on the train, and took a walk over the Clifton Suspension Bridge. I think the designing engineer, Isambard Kingdom Brunel was always destined to great things with a name like his. It certainly is a beautiful bridge but I can see why Tony Robinson, host of the Worst Jobs in History, was a little reluctant to climb over it.




Using his considerable charm (he is one of only a few guys at the pasty house, where I suspect he has some admirers) Eddy managed to swap his shifts around and get two days off in a row that matched up with mine, and we headed south to Portsmouth. The first day was grey and drizzling, a typical day at the English seaside. I was hoping to see some old sea dogs, in their woolies and moleskin coats with their collars turned up against the rain, chewing their tabaccy as they ducked out of the ale houses to see whether the tide had eased and from whence the wind was blowing...strangely enough, Captains Haddock, Nemo and Hornblower were nowhere to be seen.

We had a room booked at the Duke of Buckingham B and B and I had high hopes that at last I had picked a place that would have some character. We met the manager at the bar, and with a chuckle he got our key and led us around the rear of the pub to a... garage. As it turned out, behind the doors was a gorgeously renovated room, the nicest we've stayed in so far. As they say, you can't judge a book by its cover.

Portsmouth's newest attraction is called Spinnaker Tower, a sail shaped building that was created to provide a viewing platform over the harbour and the Isle of Wight. The views were beautiful and the first two photos in the slideshow below were taken from here. It is in a new area called Gunwharf Quay, a Darling Harbour style collection of shops and restaurants that was only five minutes walk from where we were staying. We talked each other into getting a nice dinner despite the possibility for pot noodles (we had a jug in our room) and went out to a French restaurant. With hindsight, pot noodles would have been the right choice. We had just ordered when it was announced that there was going to be some entertainment that evening as it was the day before Bastille Day. The entertainment turned out to be one of the waiters belting (I mean BELTING) out some old crooner favourites through some speakers. It was so loud that it hurt. Eddy looked thoroughly dejected. We couldn't speak, we just ate as fast as we could and sadly paid a bill that didn't match enjoyment with price. The only thing to do was have some pudding, which we ate in the building that the torpedo was invented in (because pudding and torpedos have loads in common). The bakewell tart had the desired effect, and we headed back to our garage feeling happy again.

The next day it was hard to remember we were in England. Brilliant sunshine greeted us as we set out for the day. I couldn't stop smiling, I was just so happy to see some blue sky! We had breakfast in front of the water. We thought Eddy's heart might be having pasty withdrawals so he tucked into a full English breakfast while I had some eggy toast. We then walked around the historic dockyard, home to the HMS Victory and the Naval Museum, and decided we wanted to see everything so bought a full day pass. We jumped on a ferry for a harbour tour, arriving back just in time to see a replica Viking boat leave the jetty with a team of about twenty.

We then had a look at the HMS Warrior, the first iron-clad war ship and the pride of Queen Victoria's navy. We couldn't believe how big it was. There were various people on board dressed in Victorian clothes, either doing maintenance or acting as guides and you were able to wander around it as you wanted. Next, we boarded the Victory, which was far more crowded with people, but propably still short of the 700 people who were on board for the Battle of Trafalgar. The museum next door had a Trafalgar walk-through experience that really brought the battle to life with the sound of cannon fire and grotesque wax models with limbs freshly blown (or perhaps in this case, melted) off. In another room was the battle scarred main-sail, laid out, the holes from cannon balls all too obvious.

In another area of the dockyards was the marvel of marine archaeology, the wreck of the Mary Rose, Henry VIII's flagship which they managed to raise off the ocean floor 400 years after it sank. It was in a gigantic, humidity controlled tank. They constantly have to spray it with a water and wax solution to preserve it, and through the misty glass it is a ghostly, awe-inspiring sight. They are not sure why it sank, but it happened in full view of Henry as he stood on the shore in Portsmouth watching it sail out to battle with the French.

Towards the end of the day, we went across to Action Stations, a kind of amusement science hall linked to the navy. Most of the stuff was for littlies but Eddy had his hopes set on the helicopter simulator. We waited very patiently outside of it as a father and son were having a go, or, I should say, the father was having a go. The little boy wasn't allowed to do anything. After a few turns the man looked around at us, but decided to keep going anyway. I said, 'boys and their toys'. Eddy said, 'phh!' In the end he didn't get to fly a helicopter but got over it over a pint of ale.

We headed back to Bath just as the clouds were rolling in and it was drizzling when we got back home. But it was sunny, and here are the photos to prove it:




Susie xxox