Isle Of Wight

We cruise gently down Southampton Water leaving the noise and bustle of the city behind.  The fast ferry zips by, rushing to the island in half the time, but we have the time to indulge in a cooked breakfast as the refinery at Fawley passes the window.  Top tip - head straight for the cafe as soon as you board, as a queue forms.

After an hour we come to land at Cowes, at the mouth of the river Medina.  Its surprisingly industrialised here, but on a small friendly scale with places like the boatyard painted here (oil on board 16x12 inches, 2020 (X)).

At low tide the beach stretches out beyond the pier, so you can actually watch the hovercraft as they are still going at some speed at close hand.

At low tide the beach retracts to the shore. The families that were playing in the shallow pools are forced to just a narrow band until the tide turns again. And around here that take time, for the double high tide of this region means that the tide only retreats shortly before low tide.



OK it doesn't look much seeing Ryde in black and white, so as we stroll along the shore, lets have some colour and some sunshine.

The best way on from Ryde I've found is to follow the coast, past the folly where the pirate festival was held, and round several bays, each quieter than the last.  You eventually pass some rocks and enter a bay with no buildings bar these two shacks, and if you time it right, no people too.

This is Priory Bay - named after the priory that sits behind the woods you see.  In the background you may just catch a glimpse of Portsmouth and the spike of the Spinnaker Tower. (oil on board 16x12 inches, 2017)

Our route takes us along Bembridge harbour, but sadly the distinctively decorated moored houseboats have all been replaced with modern carbuncles.  At the far end the characterful cafe on the beach has also been modernised, but its still worth a stop if only for the location. Climb up to Bembridge village, then past the windmill.  Next the airfield (with its Propeller Inn an alternative refreshment stop), and a climb over the hill to the seaside resorts of Sandown and Shanklin.

The pier at Sandown is well worth a visit.  Walking through its corridor is like a trip into the past.  Its split into sections, and the most evocative is perhaps the cafe I've painted here (oil on board, 8x8 inches, 2018). though sadly even that has lost a little of its charm now.

Its downhill for a while now, followed by the long and straight military road that follows the coast.  The official cycle route goes inland a bit here, but with a tail wind this is too good to miss.  For those cycling the island there is a stiff climb at the end which is getting perilously close to the cliff edge, but nevermind, there is icecream to be had in Freshwater Bay, and a chance to paddle on the shingle beach.

If the tide is out (as here) you get colourful rockpools in front of the big lump of chalk guarding the bay.  And just to the left of these you can walk round to some caves.  But do take care, its chalk worn smooth by the sea, and its wet.  And there is nothing more slippery than wet chalk.

With extra time to dry off those boots (well I did warn you the chalk was slippery), and sample another ice cream (all money going to the RNLI), we finally get under way.

We are on foot now, for the climb up Tennyson Down.  Looking back we get this view of the cliffs stretching back to St Catherine point, except that the path has all but gone now due to erosion, and we are on a safer path a little further from the edge.  Ahead, just a lush carpet of grass, wildflowers, blue butterflies and near silence.  Its further than it seems, but eventually the ridge leads us to the secret rocket test site - in its own hidden hollow.  And at the far end, a concrete path juts out from the cliff for a drop dead view of the Needles.  None of which I've painted yet!