First day on me own...
Isle Of Wight Travel Blog› entry 20 of 28 › view all entries
July 7th, 2006 – by: seventy6daytripper
On the 1-year anniversary since the London bombings, I decide to get on and off public transportation 24 times. You know...live it up, right? From Oxford to Reading, Reading to Basingstoke, to Lymington, to Lymington Pier, then to Yarmouth across a sliver of the English Channel. A bus ride to Needle Point finally landed me at, seemingly, the edge of the world. So maybe I've lived in a cave all my life. It's been sheltered, unexperienced, not very expanded in my travels. Whatever cave it was, it wasn't pretty.
I went to the edge of the cliffs, saw the lighthouse and the needles sticking out of the water, and thanked God for making me. I'll never experience what I went through up there again. Maybe close, but nothing with the levity it had then. I don't need a tropical island, I don't need picturesque mountains, I have my own cliff. It was a beautiful cliff...and nobody could take it from me. It was an old rocket testing facility, yes, but long ago.
My ride back to the mainland included two more bus rides, the return ferry trip, and 3 separate trains to get to Salisbury, England. I played the part of the Asian tourist, or at least I was the only non-Asian, on the last bus to leave Salisbury on the way to Stonehenge...which was pretty disappointing. Not an anti-climatic disappointment, because I kinda knew it wasn't going to be great. It's just one of those things you have to do. One of the 7 wonders, it has to mean something. Whether or not we can actually explain how those stones got up there, it was pretty impressive. But pretty small, and way to much money to walk around somebody's rock playground (playground, in the sense of you being a druid...otherwise it's just a circle of stones). My trip back to Salisbury was with an American family from Montana, of all places, that had been in Europe for 5 weeks. And I thought my trip was action-packed. England was there 11th country!
I stopped my Salisbury Cathedral, saw that Magna Carta thing (damn you King John, why couldn't you just follow it), and headed back to the Oxford. But not before having an incredible day of independence, wind-blown hair, and chalky fingers (from the limestone cliffs).
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