The Road to Chichester

After a big breakfast, we headed back into the New Forest and found our way into Hythe for the first of three ferries that day.  Over into Southampton, across the Itchen and on to the Hamble Ferry, where we stopped for a bite to eat and met up with another old water polo crony, in the form of Willie.  He introduced us to Phyllis, the proud operator of a ferry that had been painted pink to celebrate Phyllis’ gender adoption.  Thus we were “trans-ported” across the Hamble in fine twenty-first century style.  Then onwards to Gosport for the third ferry, which was not so notable, and round Portsmouth to Chichester.  Everyone was weary towards the end of the ride and Mark got little sympathy or help with a flat tyre at Fishbourne.

I diverted to Dell Quay to meet up with Rod, another polo player, before joining the others at the hotel to see the remnants of the Euro match between England and the Czech Republic, who were despatched 1-0, a margin that was not enough to satisfy the critics.

Haywards Heath