There is an episode of The Royle Family in which Nana mentions that she has never been on this or that form of transport so Jim eventually asks, 'is there any form of transport that you have been on?' I feel like her but less so now that I've been on a hovercraft as well as having been transported by car, bike (including tandem), motorbike, ship, pedalo, gondola, hydrofoil, aeroplane, chair-lift, roller-coaster, spacehopper, scooter, bus, coach, tram, trolley-bus, donkey, horse and cart and Saturn V rocket. Well, no, not that last one.
Once in Ryde, I thought I had better make use of the visit and so walked to Quarr Abbey and by happy accident witnessed the office held in the church at 1 pm which I took to be Sext. It was a strange affair, with some chant and response, that lasted not much more than 10 minutes, and one can see from where some football crowds developed their sustained end-to-end barrage of 'Red & White Army'. I hadn't realized that quite so many of the faithful at places like The County Ground, Swindon, were lapsed monks. While it clearly means a great deal to them, it impresses the atheist observer mainly through its timeless recognition of ritual, something done entirely because it is done and that is that.But if that free show didn't attract a bumper attendance then the tea shop was doing a brisk trade which makes one wonder which way round they would prefer it- a packed congregation for Sext paying only donations and an empty cafe or the way it really is.
The ride bumped and swayed a little bit, less so on the way back than on the way there and it is not noticeable when the craft lands on its concrete slipway and so one concludes after a new experience just a few weeks before one's 54th birthday that the spray and minor drama of its launch onto the water make it look more exciting from the outside that it feels like being on the inside. I suppose that could be said of a few things.
