It was late afternoon when we left Steventon. We didn't really want to go. It had been so beautiful and such a lovely and peaceful day.
(You should click on this pic once to see it larger.)
It seemed too early to just return to our inn, so we decided to make a mad dash to Southampton. In my original trip plans I thought we would spend a little more time there, but along with Portsmouth it got left behind when our lodging for the second night changed. I don't think we missed out on too much, but it was the place where Henry V set out for France (KJ's favorite bit of history, I'm sure), where our forefathers left on the Mayflower, where the ill-fated Titanic left the shores of England. It's a pretty important port city in history, I would say.
So though we didn't have much time it suddenly became my goal to make it to the water by sunset. Traveling on the M3 that evening KJ pointed out what should have been obvious to me, that the slow lane was now the left lane. We had no idea exactly what our destination should be, but as we pulled into the environs of Southampton 30 minutes later we saw several signs for the docks. I told KJ to follow them since docks had to be on the water, and it was almost sunset, so let's hurry!
We soon found a sign that read Mayflower Park. Perfect. Disappointingly enough, we couldn't find any special plaque that read, "The Mayflower embarked from this spot," or anything specific like that, but we settled for the fact that we were in the general vicinity. I don't think we really had the best view from the city, but we made it in time for the sunset, so for that I was happy and thankful.
KJ remarked that the view below was quintessential England, Industrial Revolution-ish. (Is that what they called it there?)
When I turned it into a black and white I thought you could set Oliver Twist loose on the streets there with no problem. Look at those smokestacks.
Having made the sunset we started wondering, "What now?" We knew everything was probably closed, and it was getting dark, but there was one other place I wanted to see. Netley Abbey. I learned about it through reading various Jane Austen spin-off books. The Austen women spent some time living in Southampton with her brother Frank, who was in the Royal Navy, after their father died. The row of houses where they lived isn't standing anymore, but Netley Abbey was in ruins even in her day and was a popular picnic spot, I think.
Unfortunately for us, the bridge across the inlet was down for some reason so we had to drive all the way around, through the city centre, and then weaving in and out of dark neighborhood streets. That night was one of the instances KJ forgot he was in England and made a turn onto the right side of the road. It was dark, and there were no other cars or reminders...until a car was headed right toward us down the winding road, headlights in our faces. Whoops.
At that point we were nearly there, and the gates were closed, but we set up the tripod nonetheless to get a couple of pictures. We were looking at the ruins of Netley Abbey, even if it was from a distance!
Contrary to what it may appear, it is pitch black at this point. There was a cottage inhabited by...the gatekeeper??...they still have those?...that had lights shining around the lot. We set the exposure on the camera and used the self-timer so there would be no camera shake and then proceeded to wait for the longest exposure time of our trip. It was crazy. I pressed the button, and we waited and waited and waited for the shutter to release. I was shivering with the cold sea air and nervous that someone would come out of the cottage and tell us to be on our way, but we managed a couple of shots.
KJ set up a shot for me without the gate in it. He became really adept at handling the tripod and setting up shots. We soon fell into a routine of me setting the camera settings and him handling everything else. I remember standing outside our little rental car while we waited on this picture to take, laughing and being so happy.
1238...Oh, England, you have the oldest ruins.
At this point, it was dark, cold, and we were starving, so we set the GPS coordinates back to Alton and The Three Horseshoes, where a hot meal and a cozy fire awaited us. This was the night we overheard one of the men who worked there trying to explain to the lady working at the bar who Davey Crockett was. We just laughed. We enjoyed a nice night in our separate twin beds (Twin beds make for cheaper rooms.) and packed up our bags. The next day we were headed to Oxford, but we had one more to stop to make in Hampshire first.
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