09/03 – An early morning telephone call. It is Master O and he is not a happy bunny.
“I’m in %$£&^%$ Surbiton!”
“OK,” I said cautiously, “what are we doing there?”
It transpired that, yet again, there are signalling disruptions at Waterloo , and having come off night shift at his central London hospital, he boarded his usual all-stations train to Clapham Junction, only to hear an announcement it was now running non-stop to Woking. Hurriedly disembarking, he shot on board the train in the opposite platform, ostensibly all stations to Guildford, only to hear another garbled, unintelligible announcement as the doors closed. It turned out to be “we’ll be running non-stop to Surbiton” …..
“Ah well, as you’re there, why don’t you pop outside and take a look at the wonderful architecture?” I said brightly. Judging by his response, it was perhaps not the most sensitive of suggestions …
On Monday for Mr & Mrs O, a Grand Excursion to the Isle of Portland. We usually try to see the sea at least once a year, and preferably when there aren’t loads of grockles clogging up the roads and the fish and chip shops. It was the tail end of Storm Freya, sunshine and blustery showers, but boy was it windy on top of the Isle. We started, as ever, at the Portland Heights Hotel for lunch - wildly overpriced hotel bistro food, we paid £8.90 each for crab cakes. I know crab is expensive, but just two cakes each, although delicious, were served on a small plate with a chilli dip and a smidgeon of salad. Still, the views over Weymouth Bay and Chesil Beach from the hotel restaurant are sublime, and we’d highly recommend popping in there if ever you’re down that way. We then journeyed on to Portland Bill, where we found the lighthouse closed to visitors, so we adjourned to the “Lobster Pot” café for a second lunch! A bacon and brie baguette for Ossie, a wodger portion of chocolate cake for Mrs O and a pot of tea for two, all for £16, whilst we sat and watched the tidal race in full flow, with the dark grey waves pounding the rocks below us and the spume flying over the top of the cliffs. Then the sun broke through, the sea turned green and the crests sparkled in the light. Outside the café, it was howling a gale.
There is a big notice by the lighthouse, Elf and Safety and all that:
“WARNING: The public are advised that a fog signal emitting a Very Loud Noise may be sounded in this vicinity at any time without prior warning. Signed: The Secretary, Trinity House”.
Quipped Mrs O: “I bet it’s not as loud as you when …..”
“Shush – enough of that!”
Well, judge for yourself!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-mheWnTYT7g
Speaking of unhappy bunnies, as mentioned earlier in this blog, rabbits have long been associated with bad luck on Portland. Use of the name is still taboo—the creatures are often referred to as "underground mutton", "long-eared furry things" or just "bunnies". The origin of this superstition is obscure (there is no record of it before the 1920s) but it is believed to derive from quarry workers. They would see rabbits emerging from their burrows immediately before a rock fall and blame them for increasing the risk of dangerous, sometimes deadly, landslides. If a rabbit was seen in a quarry, the workers would go home for the day, until the safety of the area had been assured.
Today older Portland residents are 'offended' (sometimes for the benefit of tourists) by the mention of rabbits; this superstition came to national attention in October 2005 when a special batch of advertisement posters were made for the Wallace and Gromit film, The Curse of the Were-Rabbit. Out of respect for local beliefs the adverts omitted the word 'rabbit' and replaced the film's title with the phrase "Something Bunny is going on …" (Wiki)
We concluded our visit with a tour of the historic and imposing 18th century St Georges Church, near Easton, which was open on the day (it’s not regularly used, being part of the Churches Conservation Trust); outside, there are many fascinating tombstones given Portland’s maritime connections, including one Richard Otter, 39, lost on "The Titanic” in 1912, and Benjamin Scriven, Chief Officer of the SS Porto Alegro , who was “accidentally shot by the Steward in the East India Dock, London, on October 11th 1875, aged 24 years”.
After the rain showers, the Church’s car park was rather muddy – white Portland Stone dust from the neighbouring quarry. It cost £15 to get the interior of the car valeted the following day …..
To Saturday, and the Ostrich was up early, peering underneath the car on the driveway.
“What on earth are you doing, Ossie” I asked the bird.
“Just checking for bugs …..” was the reply.
You see, today we were off to see Merley Cobham Sports FC and they have a rather interesting history. Originally the club was founded as the works team of a company called Flight Refuelling Ltd., makers of those in-flight nose-cone thingies, and that company is now a huge defence contractor known as Cobham PLC.; one of the top 50 such organisations in the world. Amongst things they produce is the Guardian ST820, a battery-operated tracing device used by the American FBI. Just secure the device under a car using the built-in magnet …. real James Bond stuff! No wonder the Ostrich was in a flap …..
The team play at the Cobham Sports and Social Club Ground, which lies at the edge of the large 1970’s “garden village” of Merley, between Wimborne Minster and Bournemouth. Driving through the gates into the complex was a bit of a revelation. Firstly, there’s a strange building on the left adorned with so many antennas and radio satellite receiving dishes that it makes GCHQ look like a pop-up clockwork radio. This, it transpired, was the home of FRARS, or the Flight Refuelling Amateur Radio Society! Next to it was a large outdoor model railway, 5” gauge, operated by the Wimborne Model Engineering Society – volunteers were at work ballasting the track for their 2019 running days. Around the corner were a couple of petanque boulodromes.
“What do you know about petanque?” I asked the bird.
“It’s French” replied Ossie sagely. “You dress up in a gillet jeune and take it turns to hurl rocks called boules at a cochonnet. Or possibly a cardboard cut-out of Macron, I’m not sure ….”
There’s a rifle range, squash courts, a golf course, indoor 10-pin bowling alley and a rather nice restaurant/café, with a TGI Friday sort of menu - kids meals, nachos, burgers, steaks, that sort of thing. All very family friendly. Judging by a wall-mounted display, there is some sort of connection between Cobham plc and Richard Noble, OBE although quite what I’m not sure. Noble, from 1983 to 1997, was the holder of the World Land Speed Record (633 mph), and was also the Project Director of the ThrustSSC, still the current land speed record holder (763 mph in Black Rock Desert, Nevada in 1997). On display were congratulatory letters from Margaret Thatcher and the Queen. “Wonder how he coped with the speed bumps and potholes,” muttered Ossie.
There was also a Craft and Country Fair on today in the social club (when I arrived, the car park was full; luckily they had opened up a number of overflow spaces). I wandered round it and there were two Tombolas! I am a sucker for a Tombola. I emerged £4 later with a strange box containing a wireless security light from B&Q and a jar of banana chutney ……
Merley Cobham Sports FC are have a pretty good season in the Dorset Premier League, lying third, and potentially in with a chance of promotion. I took up residence in the breeze-block stand which was furnished with five comfy lounge chairs, so low-slung that Ossie finished up resting his beak on the parapet! The opposition, or whipping-boys today were Parley Sports from just down the hill in Bournemouth, and their shambolic defence gave away a goal inside 4 minutes, Asa Phillips knocking home a wayward backpass from close range. The same player swivelled and made it 2-0 on 11m with a low shot into the corner, and with play going in one direction only, Merley Cobham added 3 further goals in a 6 minute spell around the half-hour mark, two of those also following atrocious defensive howlers.
After that, strangely, nothing much else happened. Parley had obviously had the hairdryer treatment at half-time, and with Merley Cobham just happy to rest on their laurels, the second half turned out to be a complete anti-climax with the home side competently soaking up whatever pressure Parley tried to apply. The only further excitement was Parley’s No.4 being sent off for a second yellow card (both dissent) on 76m.
Dorset Premier League (Step 7): Merley Cobham Sports 5 Parley Sports 0
Admission: £3, basic programme included. On two pages, the adverts were printed upside down ….
Refreshments: a bowl of parsnip, cumin and cider soup with a warm crusty roll £3.75 in the clubhouse restaurant. And a packet of two Border Classic butterscotch crunch biscuits from the bar 85p. One for Ossie, one for Mrs O!
Attendance: 47