A whole year since Tammy and I got married. Where the bloody hell does the time go? Hmm? It really does feel like it was only last week!
We had a fine time of it, returning to Winchester (a surprise for T) indeed to the very hotel we got married in (and the staff genuinely did remember us - not sure that’s a good thing, especially when smirking is involved).
Had a very pleasant stroll around Winchester Cathedral after swapping pressies (an origami Lily and a piratey message in a bottle) before retiring to the hotel for an evening of fine dining and trying to finish the champagne.

Winchester is such a beautiful place, somewhat pokey for what used to be the nation’s capital, but then google for a map of London from 1666 (great fire) and overlay that onto a map of London today.

Anyway, have a look at these:

Courtesy of my smashing In-Laws.

Brilliant sculpture over a market street entrance.

Spot the row of ‘trick’ windows.

I can’t imagine any birds flying into this wall thinking it’s an open window. There are at least three incorrect lines on it. Tchoh.

I just love vaulted ceilings. Or whatever you call them.

Delightfully strong yet sparse-looking. Architecture is a marvellous thing when done right.

St Francis of Assissi, about to swat a woodpecker for crapping on his hand.

Yup, it was bloody hot outdoors but inside the crypt it was cool and peaceful. Just the right place to stand and read a book.

A mediaeval sound system, dating back to ooooh about 2007. Truly old stuff. I bet Tony Robinson dug it up in the grounds.

And when we came home one of our cats had decided to take up as much room as she could atop the organ.

Ahh, isn’t it fab how photographs help you keep such happy, treasured memories? Nice!

‹Has now to live up to the promise to make something out of the prescribed material every anniversary›

I’m showing my softer side in this post. No, it’s not my arse. Lookit:

So what’s the first thing you honestly thought, in one word if possible, when you saw them pictures? I’m intrigued to know

‹Is ready for broad selection of answers, not many serious ones›

Ah, there’s nowt quite like it. I used to do it fairly regularly, y’know, but haven’t managed it for quite a while lately. I tend to get really puffed out when I do do it nowadays, too. Takes me all day to do what I used to do all day.

Yes yes yes, settle down. Thirst, stop sniggering. Mort Senior, that goes for you too. I was talking about Geocaching, actually. Tchoh.

I first met up with The Grockles (i.e. Pharisee, Hi-Tek, Merman and myself, Omally) waaaaaaaaay back in 2003. I’d spotted a good deal on the Wightlink website for a car and 4 people to go over to the Wight. Naturally I jumped at the deal and advertised on the Geocaching.com forumanumanums for 3 trusty companions who might like to go and bag the mere 11 caches on the island. The deed was done, much fun was had and we thought no more about the Wight. For ages afterwards we met up many more times to bag gert clumps of caches together around the Home Counties, with one further visit to the Wight (this time for a whole weekend) where we bagged a load more caches and once more cleaned up on the island.
Now, with the unfortunate prevalence of micro-caches every-bloody-where, the Wight is infested with some 120 or so caches! Some difference from only a few years ago. Naturally enough, having not met up for a decent cachepedition for aaaaaaaaaaages, the three remaining full-time Grockles went and bagged a few more caches on the island. 52 of the buggers to be precise.

That’s enough waffling, only of interest to regular cachers I suppose, so here are some nice pictures for y’all instead. I apologise if some of these snaps inspire a sense of, well, pity I suppose: that’s the Isle of Wight for you, I’m afraid. The whole island feels like it needs a lick of fresh paint to cover up yesterdays ghosts:

The view from Bembridge Down.

Rusty old contraptions. And two Grockles.

I bet the bloke who put his name to this pump didn’t expect it to become so wonderfully apt.

St Mildred’s Church, Whippingham - as used by Queen Victoria. Whippingham, eh? *twirls moustache lewdly*

A very sad sight to one fascinated by machines: the rusting remains of the Ryde Queen, an old paddle steamer used as a ferry from Ryde to Portsmouth.

Mmmm, brekkers!

Another sad sight. The old Saunders Roe works at East Cowes. I can just imagine being there when seaplanes were produced! Check the link to the wiki page about it. Fascinating!

And finally, one can only imagine the ironical lack of communication in the council offices that produced this:

‹Still trying to make GSAK help with logging caches - could’ve finished by now if I didn’t use GSAK!›