Brace yourself for a swift seaside sojourn, including a pint-sized Queen, a leaky Prince, a much-missed yacht, some castles and two scarlet legs.
The legs are mine. Mrs F and I are on England’s south coast during a brief break that began in north Wales.
It’s persistently blistering weather, during which shorts and T-shirts are de rigueur. I’ve been slapping on sun cream faster than a plasterer on piece-work which has left me slipperier than a snake in a soap factory.
One day, I forgot. A stroll along a sun-baked shore near Portsmouth left me looking like I’d been wading in hot chip fat. I couldn’t blame anyone else. I didn’t have a leg to stand on.
Celebrity spotting
Earlier, driving through Wales, we spotted a famous wee campervan in a car park. It was “Helen Mirren”. Not the actress, but the miniscule mobile home of Scotland’s comedy queen, Susan Calman.
The Glaswegian was filming for her entertaining Grand Days Out TV series which has previously included much of Scotland and also famous English seaside resorts.
It was quiet, there were no cameras around and she was just chatting to a colleague, so I nipped across to say hello. I’d thought up some chat lines to make her laugh and maybe instantly employ me as a scriptwriter.
As I approached, she looked up. Star-struck, I hesitated, blushed, then blurted out pathetically “I love your programmes”, like a doe-eyed teenager asking a classmate for a date.
She raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement then, seriously underwhelmed, returned to her conversation. I slunk away and drove south, rapidly.
Historic landscapes
Here on the Hampshire coast there’s plentiful evidence of the importance of Britain’s coastline. I’m staying near the impressive Portchester Castle, the largest surviving Roman fort north of the Alps. It looks out across that vital waterway, the Solent. It was built about 268AD and subsequently became a strategic Saxon fortress.
We know all about extraordinary coastal castles in north Scotland, of course. From Red Castle at Lunan Bay to Dunnottar; Slains; Findlater; Fort George; Mousa Broch; Kisimul; Eilean Donan; Tioram; Stalker and many others, they emphasise how important it has been to protect our coasts from unwelcome visitors. And I don’t necessarily mean unvaccinated tourists arriving from the latest selection of amber-list countries.
More than 95% of British trade by volume and 90% by value travels by sea. That’s pretty significant.
Ship-shape
Barely a cannon shot across the bay from Portchester is Portsmouth Naval Dockyard where the Rosyth-assembled, state-of-the-art aircraft carrier, HMS Prince of Wales, is currently berthed prior to becoming fully operational.
She’s impressive and maintains a long naval tradition of warships defending our interests, although last year she sprung more leaks than a Dominic Cummings press release. It was widely reported that the Prince of Wales had a screw loose. Not quite true, but enthusiasts of that daft drama-documentary, The Crown, probably believed every word.
The show that stretches reality further than Dolly Parton’s bra strap arrives in Macduff on Monday to film at the harbour. I’d rather they were filming stories about our fabulous Scottish fishing communities, which have meant so much to our coastal history and economy, than a creelful of cringeworthy codswallop about our royals.
Still, back in the real world, the real Queen has arrived at Balmoral for her annual holiday. I loved when she always disembarked at Aberdeen from the Royal Yacht Britannia, now residing in an unspectacular berth at Leith.
That sinking feeling
The vessel is unique and generated millions more in trade than it would have cost to refit her and keep her sailing. Sadly, former Scrooge-like PM Tony Blair thought otherwise and she was decommissioned in 1997.
For a proud maritime country, it was a pointless piece of petty penny-pinching. Any billionaire could buy a superyacht, but none would have the class of Britannia. She is much missed.
I hope the Queen enjoys a much-needed holiday. Perhaps she’ll take a trip to the Scottish seaside. After all, she owns all the foreshore between high and low water marks.
Just one piece of advice, though, ma’am. Pack the factor 50 in your handbag.
And if you see the lovely Susan Calman on your seaside sorties, please apologise profusely for me.
Thanks.