Portsmouth

Our last full day on the South coast of England meant a trip to historic Portsmouth and the quite futuristic Spinnaker Tower. Avid readers may recall my first trip to said attraction, before Christmas, with Kapitano. Contacting him was problematic. My telephone has a mind of its own. Sometimes it chooses to communicate (with me and with others) and sometimes it does not. Sometimes it changes its mind in the throws of conversation.



The above image was not taken by me. I pinched it from Wikipedia. Although glorious, it's clearly taken by a drunk person. This is Portsmouth, dear reader, not Pisa.



We drove in to Portsmouth from our base in Bournemouth, Mum's house. It didn't take us long to get to the edge of the city, but from that point to the harbour must have taken forty five minutes to an hour, doubling our journey time.

Our first port of call, a delicious little eaterie for lunch!



I say delicious. Although the food was certainly that, it was one of these chain establishments that sets itself up as something unique and authentically this, that and the other. Of course, the only thing it is, is authentically plastic, but that didn't really bother me. I was so damned hungry!



Someone was having a birthday. Not us, sadly. I like birthdays. It's just the growing older I can't stomach.



After lunch, a trip up Spinnaker Tower. Here we are on the first level...



...with a glass floor! Look at that child! Is he brave or mad?



And what about this gorgeous hunk? Again, brave or mad? Mad, I'd say!



Actually, hold that. How about absolutely insane?



Mum managed to hang on to her sanity and kept as far away from the glass floor as she could. Wise decisison.



Next, a trip to the highest level of the tower, the crow's nest.



The view wasn't that much different from the lower levels, but worth it nonetheless, if only to know one had been there.



And then back down to collect Mum, still in her chair, kindly lent to her by the staff at the naff gift shop.



Back on solid ground and outside. Time for an arty shot.



This shop provided a Serial Mom moment. I really had no idea Liz Claiborne existed and, on seeing this shop, I nearly fell off the world.

There's a new(ish) development of shops and housing around the harbour and tower. It's quite fabulous, actually.

Oh, and there's a webcam of note, too. I wondered if it was live at all, or even if the pictures were moving, then, phew, I saw a bird flying around the harbour and someone walking near Spinnaker Tower.



Human beings don't and can't have a monopoly on fun. My wee daughters love a walk and they love a trip to the seaside. So we went to Southsea beach and common.

"Hurrah!" said Meg, "I love it here. Let me hug you."



Mary loves to give a hug, too.



Just along from the castle, I'm reminded of home. The criss cross of aeroplane trails creates a saltire in the sky, the flag of Scotland.



Mum's legs, hips and back are in a very poor state. She stayed in the car while Ian and I walked the pups. On our return, I rewarded her with an ice-cream. She shouldn't really have it being diabetic, but, in her words, a little treat now and again doesn't hurt.



As the sun sank lower in the sky, we decided it was time to drive off.



But not before I'd had a chance to photograph these mental kite fliers.