A couple of weeks back my US relatives visited. They don’t live close, so when the opportunity arises to hang out the chances have to be well and truly leapt for. For me, this meant moving all my midweek appointments, storming it down to Portsmouth in the middle of the night, catching the last ferry of the day to the Isle of Wight, and then heading back to London just 24 hours later. What fools family makes of us all, eh?
You can see the bleak weather in these photos, which meant our “picturesque walk around a church” in Godshill turned into a desolate, existential wander through a graveyard. Some of these pictures are taken at The Garlic Farm, a wonderful little place that has become a firm family favourite due to their AMAZING food – and despite the non-vegan menu, they were very accommodating and made sure I had an excellent meal.
I have an awkward relationship with a lot of this side of my family. Whilst it’s easy to get over little disagreements (tastes in music, dietary preferences, sense of humour), it seems a lot harder to get past the big disagreements (religion, politics, race), and that means the last few visits have been pretty tense. Luckily this trip passed without incident and actually made me think I ought to journey more. After all, a life without one-day whirlwind adventures is no life at all, right?