Down Under? (or just Down South...)

It could only be a wintry England bank holiday weekend, couldn't it??

This buff (phew!) gentleman paddleboarder paraded about all afternoon in a similar state of undress, whilst I was adorning a woolly hat and at times, gloves!

This is serious sport, the National http://www.emsworth.org.uk/news/stand-paddleboard-national-championships-come-emsworth Chamionships, no less!

I had been wanting to visit 'the Gateway to Chichester Harbour' for a while and the small town of Emsworth, historically known for shipbuilding and oystercatching, on the railway line between Portsmouth and Brighton beckoned, allowing me to explore a nice new place by the sea, but with the back up of an event that might add extra photographic interest and a reason to stay longer. There was also an Arts Trail going on, though I only managed to see a handful of venues (massive rucksack containing big lenses are not best humped around intimate artspaces)   

And linger I did, getting there at 7.30 a.m when the skies were grey and the tide out. How that was a totally different 'landscape' to when the clouds eventually broke up and the tide finally floated all those little boats and craft previously lodged on big banks of slimy green and grey mud. 

The paddleboarding was taking place on the manmade Millpond, with its promenade, from which I took these shots. David's old (and increasingly heavy) handheld 120-400mm lens at full stretch but unfortunately, the D7100 about one only major flaw became very evident - it's next to useless for fast action shooting due to a buffer the size of a shriveled walnut. So much so, I was forced from RAWs to fine jpegs, and I mostly shot one stop under so that highlights did not burn out in the strong sunlight.

Despite the influx of visitors for these later heats, perhaps because I had arrived, bought food, looked around etc long before then, it never seemed swamped or overwhelming. Apparently, it's a popular town to live, one Albert Finney and Nicholas Lyndhurst (actors at very ends of the theatrical scale) and also apparently, PG Wodehouse too.

What was especially interesting and almost reassuring was how both the millpond and the two sailing clubs were a blaze of little colourful sails, youngsters seemingly as young as ten going out (under close supervision!) on their own - a mindset about character and skills building as well as future Olympic champions - about kids learning by being outside of their comfort zones at times, being shouted at occasionally and knowing that not to respect the Sea is potentially a death sentence.

More info on https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emsworth

The 2.5 hours, very much delayed (including a traffic accident that involved hitting the side of the bridge of the line at Portchester) return trains legs (4 in total) paled into insignifence compared to those already on the train from London that picked up from Emsworth and already had taken 4 hours to do that and then abruptly ended in Fareham instead of Southampton. Then the next two were mysteriously cancelled. But when I finally got into Salisbury, 15 hours after I left that morning, the huge swarming crowds trying to get on this pathetic three coach service further west made me glad of my lucky stars and to wish them luck! 

Transport, of course, is that OTHER familiar bugbear and bane of Bank Holidays, of course.