When I moved to Manchester for uni my mum packed up her life in London for the clean air of Dorset. Now I'm a London gal through and through but there is something refreshing about a brisk Autumnal walk in the country.
After a cosy pub lunch with my mum and dad in the New Forest we headed to the coast to see how far we could see. Standing on the cliff tops we could see the Isle of Wight as clear as day. I have fond memories of that little island. Most notably my year six trip where we collected coloured sand (which I have since found out is not really coloured - worse than learning Santa's little secret), blocked b&b toilets, smuggled in a year's worth of Wotsits (including BBQ beef and prawn cocktail flavour), fell in love,
surfed attempted to surf, sang some Spice Girls, and visited the now half dead Black Gang Chine. Ahhh to be 10 again.
Worst memory of the Isle of Wight is my dad making me cycle around the whole thing on a bike that was won with a can of 7Up. This isn't even a joke; it had the 7Up logo and everything. Since this experience I have barely sat on a bike. It got so bad that at one point I was walking the thing downhill as well as up. I think I even tried to hitch a ride. Thankfully there was a McDonald's at the end of it all - the strawberry milkshake helped the lactic acid that had built up in my little legs.
No nightmare trips this time around. The little walk on the cliffs was perfect. When I say walk, we literally got out of the car and walked to the edge of the cliff. It was certainly not a strenuous trip. But I do like looking out at the world and wondering how I fit in (I don't recommend this, you will feel insignificant).
Look! Mushrooms! Actual mushrooms! Growing in the ground. Well I never. Seriously, you can take the girl out of London....