Eclipse Diary- 2
Wednesday in Portsmouth
When I left for Portsmouth, I was determined to visit the refloated Tudor-era shipwreck, the Mary Rose, on the grounds of the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard. As I continued my investigations, however, I found out that the admission to the display was part of general admission to the dockyard. To get in the door cost 36 pounds which was about 70 Canadian dollars. Someone told me that the admission was good for a year, but the yearly pass was actually slightly more. I wasn’t sure how worthwhile the visit would be, and I didn’t want to risk spending that much money on a possible disappointment.
On Tuesday night, I finally got a good night’s sleep although the lumpy mattress gave Rita some problems. We reversed the mattress before leaving the house that morning and walked out feeling at loose ends. I felt that since jetlag was definitely over, we could get adventurous, and I decided to try somewhere else for breakfast. The Hideout Coffee Company was on the same block as our barber. The shop was a little more elaborate than The Terrace Café. People in Portsmouth seemed almost universally friendly to me. Maybe they were reacting to my accent; maybe I was reacting to theirs. In any case, after a bright patch of patter with the women behind the counter, I ordered the vegetarian version of a local specialty, a tofu-geddon. The coffee was good; the geddon was filling but not an experience to be repeated.
So, once the task of breakfast was accomplished, we had to face the rest of the day. When I was checking out the neighbourhood events near the apartment on Google maps, I noticed that the Portsmouth Municipal Museum was in close proximity. Furthermore, there was a lecture to be given that morning by a Dr. Kent Parson. Mr. Parson’s family had long roots in the area, and we tourists gained a great insight into the families and lives of the people who had prospered within the city’s maritime heritage. Highlights of the lecture included a shipwreck and local uprising, the Battle of Southsea. Our timing for the lecture was very lucky as these lectures are only given every few months. Further investigation yielded the fact that not only was the museum open but that admission was free. The museum and lecture definitely seemed like a good option, and once again, we were close enough to walk there.
I don’t know what the building that housed the museum had been in another day, but it appeared rather military or academic when we got there. Faced with various shades of red brick forming a complex pattern, the building had multiple turrets and bays. There were two stories of exhibits, and we covered them all. The two displays that I found the most interesting were the ‘80th anniversary of the Blitz’ and ‘Living in Portsmouth’.
‘The 80th anniversary of the Blitz’ contained numerous recordings of people who had lived through that period. Due to the passage of time, most of the accounts were from the viewpoints of children who had grown old. Because of the proximity of an important naval base, the city was a prime target for the Axis. The children’s accounts highlighted their confusion and their fears, but also went on to explain the wonder of playtime among the many ruined buildings. The adults that were recording their memories dramatically succeeded in transmitting the viewpoints of their younger selves. Once we left the museum, I began to notice the strange rhythm of the buildings of Portsmouth. New construction alternated with older buildings. I realized that all over the area I was walking, neighbourhoods that had been destroyed were healed with infill offices and homes. The exhibit allowed me to see the cityscape as a recording of its wartime history.
‘Living in Portsmouth’ was a delight. One began looking at a life-size replica of a 17th century bedroom and then advanced through a series of life-size typical rooms. As the interiors got closer to the present, the displays became increasingly evocative, containing elements of my own childhood. Small screen televisions, radios, old-fashioned refrigerators as well as the dinette sets and sofas from the Fifties were all part of the many tableaus. Besides being a trip down Memory Lane, the exhibit illustrated how daily life had become so much more comfortable in our time.
We spent about four hours attending the lecture and perusing the exhibits. Afterward we both bought a small cup of the rich vanilla ice cream in the café and enjoyed it looking out on the gardens of the museum. Unfortunately, the droughts had left all of the landscaping rather burned out, but both Rita and I left the museum feeling like we had made a wonderful choice of activity and had learned a lot about the city we were visiting.
Of course, such strenuous activity merited a pause and given our proximity to the apartment, we went home for a short nap. Once the nap came to a close, the next goal became dinner. Rita had been reading restaurant reviews with great enthusiasm. One area where Portsmouth runs up against the sea is a small peninsula, old and filled with small residences built chockablock, one upon the other. That spit of land is called Spice Island and has a great variety of restaurants. After checking menus, we headed to the Spice Island Inn at the precise point where the land is surrounded by water on three sides.
The restaurant faced a public terrace with seating for those who wanted to contemplate the seascape dotted with land in the distance. I believe one of the places visible was the Isle of Wight. The restaurant was directly behind the public space and had outside seating of its own. Although one could order online, we chose to kibbitz with the wait staff behind the bar and take in the bustling warm noisy atmosphere of the tavern. We ordered a salad and Fish and Chips. They were both delicious and interesting. I feel this was the best meal that we had in Portsmouth, and we had a lot of restaurant meals while we were there.
The walk home was a bit longer than most of the distances we had covered, but by then, we had accustomed ourselves to long walks. More than half of the route was along High Street, which is often a synonym for Main Street in England. This High Street had few stores, however. Looking closely at the age of the buildings, I realized that we were passing through one of Portsmouth’s streets that had been bombed out. It had been rebuilt mainly with residential properties.
The little apartment was very quickly beginning to feel like home. We were able to log in to our Apple Plus account on the giant television in the living room. Stretching out on the sofa, eating a few grapes, which we had bought at Sainsbury’s Express at the Gunwharf Quays, we drifted off and then staggered to bed.
So, once the task of breakfast was accomplished, we had to face the rest of the day. When I was checking out the neighbourhood events near the apartment on Google maps, I noticed that the Portsmouth Municipal Museum was in close proximity. Furthermore, there was a lecture to be given that morning by a Dr. Kent Parson. Mr. Parson’s family had long roots in the area, and we tourists gained a great insight into the families and lives of the people who had prospered within the city’s maritime heritage. Highlights of the lecture included a shipwreck and local uprising, the Battle of Southsea. Our timing for the lecture was very lucky as these lectures are only given every few months. Further investigation yielded the fact that not only was the museum open but that admission was free. The museum and lecture definitely seemed like a good option, and once again, we were close enough to walk there.
I don’t know what the building that housed the museum had been in another day, but it appeared rather military or academic when we got there. Faced with various shades of red brick forming a complex pattern, the building had multiple turrets and bays. There were two stories of exhibits, and we covered them all. The two displays that I found the most interesting were the ‘80th anniversary of the Blitz’ and ‘Living in Portsmouth’.
‘The 80th anniversary of the Blitz’ contained numerous recordings of people who had lived through that period. Due to the passage of time, most of the accounts were from the viewpoints of children who had grown old. Because of the proximity of an important naval base, the city was a prime target for the Axis. The children’s accounts highlighted their confusion and their fears, but also went on to explain the wonder of playtime among the many ruined buildings. The adults that were recording their memories dramatically succeeded in transmitting the viewpoints of their younger selves. Once we left the museum, I began to notice the strange rhythm of the buildings of Portsmouth. New construction alternated with older buildings. I realized that all over the area I was walking, neighbourhoods that had been destroyed were healed with infill offices and homes. The exhibit allowed me to see the cityscape as a recording of its wartime history.
‘Living in Portsmouth’ was a delight. One began looking at a life-size replica of a 17th century bedroom and then advanced through a series of life-size typical rooms. As the interiors got closer to the present, the displays became increasingly evocative, containing elements of my own childhood. Small screen televisions, radios, old-fashioned refrigerators as well as the dinette sets and sofas from the Fifties were all part of the many tableaus. Besides being a trip down Memory Lane, the exhibit illustrated how daily life had become so much more comfortable in our time.
We spent about four hours attending the lecture and perusing the exhibits. Afterward we both bought a small cup of the rich vanilla ice cream in the café and enjoyed it looking out on the gardens of the museum. Unfortunately, the droughts had left all of the landscaping rather burned out, but both Rita and I left the museum feeling like we had made a wonderful choice of activity and had learned a lot about the city we were visiting.
Of course, such strenuous activity merited a pause and given our proximity to the apartment, we went home for a short nap. Once the nap came to a close, the next goal became dinner. Rita had been reading restaurant reviews with great enthusiasm. One area where Portsmouth runs up against the sea is a small peninsula, old and filled with small residences built chockablock, one upon the other. That spit of land is called Spice Island and has a great variety of restaurants. After checking menus, we headed to the Spice Island Inn at the precise point where the land is surrounded by water on three sides.
The restaurant faced a public terrace with seating for those who wanted to contemplate the seascape dotted with land in the distance. I believe one of the places visible was the Isle of Wight. The restaurant was directly behind the public space and had outside seating of its own. Although one could order online, we chose to kibbitz with the wait staff behind the bar and take in the bustling warm noisy atmosphere of the tavern. We ordered a salad and Fish and Chips. They were both delicious and interesting. I feel this was the best meal that we had in Portsmouth, and we had a lot of restaurant meals while we were there.
The walk home was a bit longer than most of the distances we had covered, but by then, we had accustomed ourselves to long walks. More than half of the route was along High Street, which is often a synonym for Main Street in England. This High Street had few stores, however. Looking closely at the age of the buildings, I realized that we were passing through one of Portsmouth’s streets that had been bombed out. It had been rebuilt mainly with residential properties.
The little apartment was very quickly beginning to feel like home. We were able to log in to our Apple Plus account on the giant television in the living room. Stretching out on the sofa, eating a few grapes, which we had bought at Sainsbury’s Express at the Gunwharf Quays, we drifted off and then staggered to bed.
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