I took a flight to Manchester recently, to attend a flute convention. I had a fabulous time, seeing old friends, making some new ones and getting immersed in flute music. There were some truly fabulous players and performances.
But the flight is what brought back some memories. The skies were clear, and the flight stopped over in Southampton, so we flew over a few areas I know quite well. I didn't have my camera with me so i couldn't take pictures of them, so Google maps will have to provide the necessary.
We flew out over St Malo, and then followed the western edge of the Cherbourg peninsula. St Malo is our preferred port of entry to France: you get a civilised crossing from Portsmouth overnight. We did our house-hunting via this port.
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Coming in to Southampton we flew over Calshot Spit, where I used to windsurf. One spectacular day we were there with friends, and it was blowing and raining so hard that I was the only one who would venture out. The other three sat in the dry car and used the windscreen wipers to wave at me when i was near enough to see them
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There was a good view of Warsash, on the other side of The Solent from Calshot Spit. I used to ride my bike there from home, via Titchfield, walk back to Hill Head along the sea front, and bike back from there. The first girl I ever kissed lived in Hill Head, in Knight's Bank Road.
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We flew up past Southampton and then turned South to land, coming in past Winchester, with a good view of the cathedral, flying along the course of the river Itchen as it weaves past Eastleigh. When I was at grammar school, I was in a group of friends who were pleased to call ourselves the "North Fareham Rambling Association" Basically a group of 6th-formers who went on a long walk to a pub on Sundays. One day we walked to Winchester from Eastleigh, Southampton, along the river Itchen. It was a long way and we were exhausted, arriving at Winchester railway station for the train back. And the train was a London commuter, full to the brim with nowhere to sit.
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We flew out of Southampton on the way back, right over Woodmill. The river Itchen becomes tidal at Woodmill, and as a nipper I would fish the last freshwater stretch with my dad, between Woodmill Lane and Mansbridge. It seemed to long from one end to the other! But it's only a few hundred yards. You can click and drag the map, to see, just off to the right, the old Mansbridge, that used to carry the A27. It was too narrow for two cars at the same time.
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