Harting Down and Portsmouth

Struck by a worrystorm about just how horribly expensive everything is and seeing the lifesavings cash pot draining at an alarming rate the while we stay in this country, I was in need of a joy kickstart. Worrying about this and the "upcoming homeward slog to get to Heathrow on the first train and checking in on time" blues. Seriously though, I don't understand why there are any humans in England right now as one seems to need Gertrude's Sack of Infinite Cash Holding to survive. I have been spending in an afternoon what would normally last a week in the Land of Nine Smiles. I understand why a couple of friends admitted to me that they never go out, and not because they are anti-social gits, but simply don't possess the ducats to do so. Frightening. A first hand experience of the result of the fall a couple of years ago, and the worse thing is, it is still going down. Watch as one unexpected world event follows another, and yet the Royals and celebs of this country enjoy fast cars and parties. Actually, it seems that the cheap and expensive things here and in Thai exactly reflect each other. Cars, rent, eating out etc...

Enough of my arse-boring rant, on with the show...

Yesterday morning I pulled myself out of my pit of self loathing, doubt etc, and informed Oi we were going for a walk as the weather has become glorious once again. Cocking tunnel, Harting Down, Shoulder of Mutton, Sandy Lane? I elected for Harting Down, despite the 2 bloody quid one now has to fork out just to park in the middle of the frigging countryside. It was gorgeous and we walked to the bottom of the hill that leads to the trig point. I wasn't going to carry a 9 kilogram infant up that fucking hill.It's hard enough when you're fit and strong. We took some snaps and headed back. Sadly, I reflected that the last time I was there was 2 years ago with my long, lost friend Matty. I thought of him as I stood there basking in the Spring sunshine.

Returning home. mum, who is suffering from a dreadful earache and still not recovered from the Cornish holiday, suggest taking Oi to go shopping in Portsmouth. I had arranged to meet old-time buddy Marc Vincent down there at six, so I went along for the ride and to waste some hours in the shops. Hundreds of dresses and clothes for Grace and Alexandra later and hours of chasing Grace around the bustling shopping centres of Commercial Road, I broke away. It's nice to see Commercial Road has lost none of it's urban charm. Fat women pushing high tech prams around the store, effing and blinding into mobile phones clutching in their chubby, grubby pork pie fingers. Heaps of clothes pulled of racks and trod on and ridden over by an army of aggressive, yet cheerful shoppers.

Wasting some time in the Froddington Arms, where I had a bargain pint of Flowers bitter at only 2.20, I eventually caught up with Marc, Marsha and Andy in some irrelevant half built bistro type affair down in Southsea. These things spring up and vanish in the blinking of a year. Pints went up to 3.30 I was horrified to discover. Marc and co. were all in great spirits and Andy, very kindly, presented me with a music CD compilation and a bottle of Bishop's Finger. I shared this with a young lad on the train home that night. I said if he could open it we could share it. Which he did. Nice lad, and just got out of prison. His view of the world was even dimmer than mine. It occurred to him that the dimness of the world is probably proportional to the quality of one's life. Anyway, back to the bistro. Andy made a chance call to guitar wizz and great friend of Kevs (enraged guitar teacher from Newcastle) who was drinking in the Auckland Arms watching the jazz band at the open mic night. It was just around the corner so we trotted over. It was great to see Paul and I sank many pints of Bombadier ale as I took turns chatting to this fine collection of buddies. Keith and his girlfriend also joined us.

At night's close I successfully caught the last train home and woke up lifted of my worry blues that had dogged me for the previous couple of days.

All's well that end's well, so far at least...