There seems to be a real interest in travel blogs at the moment and since I went on holiday a short while ago I thought I'd do a write-up of what happened.
I'll try and keep the entries brief. If you'd like some more information about the Isle of Wight and what you can do while you're there please feel free to get in touch.
The Isle of Wight sir? Be ye sure? There's been strange rumours going round these parts about the island recently..." The man's attitude was a little strange to say the least, especially given his position working in tourist information. I'd arrived at Portsmouth a little after 6am and, despite my best efforts, it was now approaching mid-afternoon and I was yet to secure a passage.
"I've little time for the superstitious banter of locals, I simply require transportation." I replied. Standing just under 6 feet tall, broad of chest and chiseled of jaw I make for an intimidating sight and it was to this that I attributed the man's nervousness. "You've nothing to fear good sir." I reassured him. "Here, take this two pounds and let's try again, eh?" I placed the coin into his clammy hand and he glanced around the room furtively, perspiration marking his brow.
"There be a ferry leaving in 10 minutes, o'er at gate 2." He muttered. "She's called the St. Victoria, though Lord knows no Saint watches o'er her now. Ye'd be a wiser man if ye took my advice though - stay away from that damned island!"
I thanked the man, took a promotional leaflet for a pirate-themed amusement park and left. The man's comments had left me perplexed, was there something to be feared on the Island? I hurried onwards towards to the dock.
The St. Victoria had certainly seen better days. Her hull, encrusted as it was with the scum accumulated from years of ocean travel, seemed ill-equipped to make the journey but choice was a luxury I could ill-afford at this point. As I boarded the vessel I stopped to ask one of the ships crew how long the journey was likely to take.
"We'll arrive when we arrive and not a moment b'fore! Now be off wi' ye I'm busy!" The stench of alcohol clung to each word that drifted from the sailor's mouth. He turned his back on me and continued fumbling with the mooring line.
"I see you're lacking in both seamanship and manners." I remarked, lighting a cigarette. "Perhaps I should teach you some of both."
"Pr'haps you should mind your mouth!" He roared turning to face me. I've no idea where he had concealed the knife but the glint of its edge confirmed its sharpness and the glint of his eyes confirmed his intent. As he thrust wildly towards me, my body, honed by hours of intense training, acted automatically. I ducked under the blade, got one arm behind his back, one behind his knees and nimbly tipped him off the side of the vessel into icy water below.
I adjusted my cravat, finished my cigarette and proceed to see if the St. Victoria contained a bar; my holiday, it seemed, was not destined to be the quiet, relaxing trip I'd imagined.
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