Just returned from my spiritual home, the Isle of Wight. My feet ache as my friend and I walked from our campsite to the ferry today which was exciting in the tornado but it was a long walk of many many miles. We left our caravans at 8am after a wakeful night in the storm, when I wondered if all the four walls of our caravan would fall down. We walked through the ancient Brighstone Forest where the noise from the oak trees blowing in the wind was delicious. We ate lumps of cheese and carrots on the way and saw three hares. The colours were pale and washed out and we passed through heathland and meadows and coastal paths, where we lost our footing at times in the gale. We may have glimpsed a nightjar. We passed tumbledown cabins and beach huts. We felt so tired as we reached Cowes we were beyond words. We barely saw another human on the walk until we stomped past the Pimms tents and stripey jumpers of the Cowes week sailing community.
Overall the holiday was lovely, with lots of friends and family around, and a typical Darling party on the first day. There was high energy music and dancing but it was all over by eight pm. The Isle of Wight may look sleepy but it can be quite dramatic. That is one of the reasons I love it so.
Josie
In my list of graduation ceremonies that I did not attend, I omitted my son C's, who got a first at Exeter. Sorry about that.
I too am back from the epic celebrations on the Island. Surprisingly we all got there and back safely, despite dodgy cars that sometimes don't start, or stop suddenly and ferries that are inexplicably cancelled. We had wonderful weather culminating in 74 mph winds at the Needles, not far away from where many family and friends were camping.
I didn't camp but stayed in luxury at The Bugle in Yarmouth. There were four generations of Darlings present. I was no longer able to descend the hazardous steps to the beach, so sat like a benign matriarch at the top, surveying my tribe.
Health report; feeling a bit weak and wishy-washy but Carrying On.
Vicky
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