This week I'll be mostly on the ferry

Welcome aboard the Hythe Ferry.

At ten minutes past six every morning, there's a clatter from the train as it trundles up around 600 yards of track to the end of the pier.  Five minutes later it clatters back, and on it goes, every twenty minutes until late in the evening.  It's a relatively interesting way to wake up; it's up there with sheep, church bells, Jersey cows and peacocks (Oakridge, The Rectory, The Croft and Bywood respectively); it's way more pleasant than the post train or crows (Old Stables and Oakridge).

This week I'll be mostly on a boat

"It's very very nice here"
Bown 2002

Right now I should be sitting at home, with my feet up in front of the fire, reading Autosport.  Instead, I'm on a boat half way across the English Channel.

Why?

Well, yesterday evening I should have been sitting on a plane, with my seat-belt on and my seat-back upright, reading Andrew Benson, Freakonomics, and Bel's Randomness on the Kindle.  Instead, I was on a train from Southampton to Chandlers Ford.

Why?

In a word - fog.

The fog has rolled in across the Channel Islands for a few days, and there is mayhem.  All the flights have been cancelled.  There have been no newspapers (or Autosport) since the mail plane can't land.  You've got hundreds of people at dozens of airports all thinking the same thing - catch the boat.  While BA, Flybe and Blue Islands might be making a loss, the cabbies at Poole harbour and doing a roaring trade between station and ferry terminal.