Hat parade

I was up early again, although - perhaps - not as early as yesterday.  PY rose waiting for an ironing board delivery from Argos which was destined not to turn up and it he;s used the wrong address.  So, there’s an ironing board we don’t need waiting elsewhere for us. Reordered for tomorrow for here.  

While I was having some breakfast (a bacon bagel), I read some good news for public transport in the Capital. Ian Visits notes  that London’s off-peak travel has recovered to pre-pandemic levels and exceeded them at times. Commuter traffic is still down.

I walk into Ryde meant we could collect provisions for dinner, I also bought a short sleeved shirt and a belt. We had a coffee from Costa Coffee but PY decided against any of the super cheap aftershaves in Poundland (I kid you not, they’d had great reviews). Off at 1pm towards the station.

We took the train to Sandown, It’s funny to observe when the staff clearly know the travellers and amusing banter starts. I tried to take a selfie but the vibrations got the better of me. We had a quick chat with the lady next to us about how much worse it used to be on the old trains.

According to The Internet, "In the decades after the war, it was the done thing to wear a silly hat to the regatta". So, Sandown has a hat parade and, thinking it would be fun, we decided to go and take a look. We were bit early so grabbed a cup of tea from a beachside cafe and took a place around the beach arena.  There were a handful of over-the-top creations (and this, the ice cream cone was probably my favourite) and lots of smaller hats created by people: families in knitted hats, some pirates and a lot of the seed hats which, I think, you could plant afterwards.  It was great to watch. None of the bigger creations, including the cone, appeared eligible for prizes. I think the whole thing was fantastic and, I hope, that it encourages more exotic creations next year.

We hung around waiting for the advertisers ‘vegetable olympics’.  While we waited we a portion of super-skinny fries at another beach-side hut.  We sat out of the wind for most of the time we were eating, only moving tables when somebody vacated seats nearer the beach but more in the wind.

The so-called vegetable olympics was nothing that hose words could conjure up and seemed to consist of people drawing thins on potatoes. PY noted that,

Never, in the history of the trade descriptions act, has drawing on a potato  been so misnamed

And so we headed to the pier where we killed 15 minutes looking at the slot machines and shove-penny games and walking to the end of the pier. We were back on the 4:20pm train. On the way back we decided to stop off for a wine at eye Harbour House cafe. One wine lead to a few but, sitting in the sun looking it on the Solent, is a lovely way to spend the evening,

After dinner, we watched “Red, White & Royal Blue” on Amazon: “When the feud between the son of the American President and Britain's prince threatens to drive a wedge in U.S./British relations, the two are forced into a staged truce that sparks something deeper”.  Preposterous throughout but, by the end, we were routing for the characters.