Fareham Creek

We’re in Portsmouth for the night having travelled down to attend the funeral of Roy the father of one of Susan’s oldest friends from when she was a 5 year old in Bearsden in Scotland.

The funeral marked the passing of a couple that Doreen knew from the early 1960s when they were attracted to each other by having an English accent in Glasgow. Doreen’s husband Ken (Susan’s dad) and Roy both worked for the MOD. We last saw Roy in July on the Isle of Bute for his grandson’s wedding. He was 94 so lived to a good age.

His funeral was really well done, with contributions from the celebrant and the family. You got a real sense of his life. His 15 minutes of fame.

The wake was at the Cams Mill pub on the shores of Fareham Creek and it was from a window of the pub that today’s blip was taken. Note the clear skies. Boy, was it a wild night with gale force northerly winds and heavy rain.

We shall have a walk along the coast at Southsea and into Portsmouth before setting off for home tomorrow afternoon. I hope breakfast is better than dinner. I ordered the soup with ciabatta bread, it came with two slices of supermarket white. They did find some ciabatta when asked. They also gave us a different room when the original room and a window frame that was broken and wouldn’t shut and the heating controls didn’t work.

We had thought Premier Inn’s were better than Travelodges.