29th July 2015 - Week 49 - Isle of Wight
We spent a gorgeous week on the Isle of Wight visiting all the usual sights to see around the island.
First to Cowes.... very nice seaside town.
Then to Needles Point. People had told me about the white cliffs, but I was like 'Oh great! Going to see some chalky cliffs by the sea'. Del told me I had to go on a chair lift, but it stayed quite close to the ground.
He didn't tell me it was a sheer drop down to the beach and it was so high, I was frightened to death. (I don't like heights very much) especially in some rickety old rusty chair with a bar across to keep you held in place! I was frightened of dropping my camera, never to be seen again. And it was amazing the amount of things people did drop whilst on these chairlifts. Littering the cliffs were several flip flops, sunglasses, hats and a scarf! People do not seem to think about what they're wearing when they go on these things.
Del enjoying me having a vertigo episode!
However, the views were spectacular, and it took you to this beautiful secluded cove where the famous coloured sand comes from. Apparently, it was caused by a river bed covered with layers of silt over thousands of years then getting flipped over on its side as the continents moved and shifted to where they are today.
The result is the coloured cliffs of Isle of Wight. Good eh? And from super-heated coloured sand, one gets glass. And at the top of needles point is a glass blowing workshop giving demonstrations on the making of the beautiful swirling patterns of the famous glass.
Two guys to make one hand made vase. And this guy just made little tea lights sconce. Lots and lots of them. It was very hot in this workshop. I wouldn't like to work there.
This was the end of needles Point with the lighthouse and helipad. We took a boat trip out here to see it properly.
A better example of the sheer drop down to the beach.... Argh! Much calmer and happier on a little chug chug boat that took us to the Point and Lighthouse. (Can just see part of the Needles behind us.
This is the seafront in Ventnor, a very beautiful town tucked away down the edge of one hillside on the south side of the island. I'd stay here again. Very Pretty. Del at the tiniest petrol station ever. Once you drive away from the three or four main towns on the Island everything seems to just go back in time and trying to find a petrol pump when the red light is blinking is a bit difficult. I thought it cute and funny, so I took a picture.
Back in Ventnor, pretty gardens by the seafront. The shortest Pier by and an Island paddling pool in Ventnor. Me on Sandown Pier. Bigger seaside towns round the East side of the island. Okay, but a bit too commercialised compared to Ventnor.
The one thing I really wanted to do was visit Osbourne House, the holiday home of Queen Victoria and her Royal Brood. It was very pretty, but a little disappointing. To say the house had been donated to English Heritage by King Edward (Vic's) son, most of the seemed off limits to the public. Walking down the long corridors with just one or two rooms open.
The royal apartments were kept as they were when Victoria died, and they did remain shut for fifty years after her death. The house wasn't as opulent I was expecting, considering it was the Queens holiday home, although the dining room she entertained guests in was an extravagant version of an Indian Emperors state room, lots of white marble effect carvings and the state Drawing room was very yellow and sparkly. Apart from that it all seemed a bit 'mergh', which was rather disappointing.
There were plenty of lovely gardens to walk around and I guess I understood why the Queen needed a secluded holiday home, but it was hardly like what the Royals of today have to endure with paparazzi and having cameras pushed in their faces every waking moment they're in public places. The Victorian Royals were so far removed from the poverty and reality of the realm they ruled over, it was unreal.
For example, this was the Queens Royal Brood's Wendy house! A two storey Swiss Cottage with two kitchen's drawing room, a museum room for all presents gifted to them (no sea shells and pebbles collected from the beach in these glass cases, I can tell you!) and two servants who showed them how to cook and garden. All very idyllic and lovely, but such a secluded and privileged life, I have mixed feelings about the whole poor little rich royal kid’s thing. It's hard to feel sorry for someone born with everything their hearts desired whilst children work in mills and pits for bowl of porridge and a straw bed (if they were lucky).
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