^ I don't know what you're talking about. There's not a chance I'll get to stay in Bangkok next week.
I've had a thing for Nelson for many years and the last week of our holiday really did involve a pilgrimage... to Portsmouth and the HMS Victory. The plan was to drive down with an old mate who now lives in Cheltenham but he had a late work day on Tuesday night so to save him a huge detour via Somerset we agreed to drive separately and meet up at the Old Portsmouth Holiday Inn on Wednesday afternoon. I mentioned to him hat we were going to call in at Stonehenge on the way down.
Many years ago I went to Southampton Uni so well know the route across the Mendips and down along the A36 which I drove many times as a student. This drive was going to revive many old memories and I looked forward to it... in the late 80s I drove the old fashioned way by looking at maps and learning the route but now I had Google Maps and an eleven year old to help navigate so I hoped for a quick drive.
As we approached Frome, the Google lady took us off the main road and down some side lanes so I assumed she knew some short cut... but the lanes became narrower and narrower...
I kept telling the daughter to zoom out a bit to make sure Google was still heading us in the right direction but she was using my 4G coverage to watch crap on Tik-Tok and I felt that things were starting to go wrong. Eventually I stopped outside this lovely old church in a place called Stoke St Michael...
But I hadn't stopped to admire yet another old building...
(and yes, I really do have my own road...)
... no, I had stopped because of this road sign.
I've always wondered what kind of idiot gets stuck down a narrow country lane because of Sat Nav... the daughter learnt a valuable lesson about not trusting everything she hears on the Internet... and she also learnt a few new choice words from her dad. We were getting behind schedule.
Anyway, eventually we found the A362 and headed past Longleat and on into Wiltshire to Stonehenge. As a kid we visited Stonehenge by driving along the main road, stopping in a lay-by and walking across the fields to the monument before clambering across the rocks. Now it has been taken over by English Heritage which just seems to be a money making machine.
First up... £5 for parking (by the shop and 'Visitor Centre' but a couple of miles from the henge)...
And then on to the Visitor Centre...
Ker ching... this just to look at Stonehenge and the visitor centre which comprised a very small mock Bronze Age village and a very disappointing exhibition. Out of all our excursions Stone henge was the worst value for money, I would say. All we wanted to do was see the damn henge.
The henge was a couple of miles from the centre but they did offer free shuttle buses, or a 30 minute walk but I was determined to get my money's worth. And it was damned hot.
Stonehenge is of course breathtaking despite a fence now cordoning it off. We walked around the perimeter of the 5000 year-old monument. No words needed.
Spot the difference!
This apparently is the Heel Stone, aligned to the Summer and Winter Solstice sunrise/sunset positions (I think) and was the closest I got to one of the huge megalths.
But there was no chance of getting a chunk for my rock collection... there were just too many tourists about and several English Heritage wardens were marching about. Anyway, I got a nice close-up picture of the megalith but wouldn't like to identify the rock composition from a photo... you need a fresh surface, preferably wet, to make a reliable identification and no way was I getting my hammer out there... or pissing on the fresh surface either (which is accepted geological practice). The megaliths at Stonehenge comprise a variety of rock and it's all on the Internet.
I did manage to pick up a few pieces of the natural gravel I discreetly found in the stony soil which had to suffice for my collection.
This was all hot work and I had an eleven year-old to keep happy...
I can't remember the price but seem to remember it was under 8 quid for my 99 and and the daughter's whippy with no flake.
She was well pissed off at the size of mine! The top of Stonehenge just to the left of my flake... these photos take some work.
We went back to join the queue for our shuttle bus back to the 'centre' when an old guy with a boy said, 'look at these two stuffing themselves with ice creams!'. I turned back to the daughter, rolled my eyes and was about to make a rude retort when I realised it was my oldest mate and his son. He had decided to call in at Stonehenge enroute o Portsmouth as well and the timing was amazing. It's strange when you meet someone out of context... I'm so used to never seeing anyone I know, any place, ever, this caught me out completely. I first met my mate in 1981 when we sat together in Biology in the local comprehensive, and have remained friends ever since. I worked with him on the Channel Tunnel but he left construction and is now a solicitor, for his sins. Anyway, luckily I recognised him just in time before insulting him in front of his boy.
After that we spent a few minutes in the visitor centre...
A Bronze Age house.
Megalith transport... some came from South Wales they reckon...
And how the henge once looked...
All very disappointing and not worth 40 odd quid. This was a shame as I've been really impressed with just about every other exhibit we've visited this holiday.
And then on to Pompey.
A typical English late summer scene. I tried for ages to get a good pic of a combine harvester but there was never anywhere to stop when we saw one.
Salisbury Cathedral from the car. I'm all churched out... it's all on the Internet. That's the problem with England, there's 800 year-old buildings everywhere.
As I was checking into the Holiday Inn my mate turned up, around 15 minutes behind us. I'd booked two ajoining rooms and as we were sorting stuff out the receptionist said that there was one double and one twin room... and that the kids could have the twin room. I realised to my horror that she thought we were a couple of queers and had to put that right... the receptionist was cute.
The daughter was well pissed off we had the double room so she had to share my bed. Opening windows... take note Travelodge.
Time for dinner... and just outside of the hotel was this...
The great man himself. To whet the appetite for the following day!
Old Portsmouth was well impressive with the Napoleonic (and older) sea defences.
Lots of new apartments.
And old defences.
The Isle of Wight across The Solent.
Offshore harbour defences seen through the opening. These buildings absolutely stank of piss.
The Spinnaker with the old harbour in the background.
This part of the harbour is called 'Spice Island' and is reputed to be where Sir Walter Raleigh first unloaded his potatoes from the New world. The Spice Island Inn has been a pub since the early 1700s and I reckon Nelson himself probably had a few drinks here while waiting for his orders.
Steak and Kidney Pudding on the menu... what a day!
Money...
We walked back to the hotel past a load of maritime history...
... and I'd like to say I had a sleepless night in anticipation of finally stepping foot on Nelson's HMS Victory... but the kids got on like a house on fire and went back to the rooms to play Roblox together while meself and my mate drank cider and IPA to the early hours and got well and truly pissed. It was looking as though the culmination of my pilgrimage was going to be spent with a raging cider hangover.