We went with the Bembridge Wheelers to Appledurcombe. It was a lovely bright breezy day. As Chris had no picnic with him and we were all desperate for a drink, we went into the shop to ask about the café. We were taken aback by the off-hand attitude of the staff.
“Well there is a display on at the moment, so you can’t go through to the café. You will have to wait until 2pm when the display is finished. Anyway we had a rush at lunch time and I haven’t any more cups.”
Though we promised not to peek we were forbidden entry. We find it difficult to understand how they could hide the café away in such a ridiculous place and run a business that tries so hard to turn trade away from their door. Aren’t cafes supposed to have a goodly stock of cups and saucers? The mind boggles. After the picnic we decided to take our custom elsewhere.
The day was not without mishap. I managed the second puncture of the day as we left for Wroxall. Fortunately Chris was there to repair it. We were made very welcome in Wroxall at the Worsley Arms. Aside from a parasol that took off in the wind with a superb Mary Poppins imitation, we enjoyed a peaceful coffee and cake at a reasonable price. Dave entertained us with his ‘rabbit’ a hand puppet that appeared to devour salad and squeak all at the same time.
Chris led us back along the cliff path from where we had spectacular views of vivid blue sea and miles of quiet clean beaches. Margaret and I were chatting about a Treasure Hunt she is planning when we saw a small drama unfold before our eyes. Irene seemed to fling herself and her bike into Dave’s handle bars; it all looked as though it were happening in slow motion. Luckily only pride was dented; Irene’s because she had lost her balance; Dave’s because a young blond woman had flung herself at him and nothing had happened.
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