OK. Last weekend we went to Christchurch. Lots to tell you about it, but first, the name of a lady who died there and left enough cash to have a small tablet of stone pinned up on the church wall. Her name was Fanny. Don't laugh yet. This is the funny bit. Her surname, was White-White. Fanny White-White. Now what was going on there? Did she marry a different branch entirely, and want to make a point about not having married her cousin? Or was it her cousin and she was trying to make it seem more exotic? Really. I know the Crandons missed a trick when they opted not to become the Crandon Swanns, and obviously and most guttingly Emily did not become Emily Moon - Light. Which was really worth doing, but if you are called White, just live with it, squaring it isn't going to help.

Apart from the obvious details on the Priory walls which any casual visitor to Christchurch would zoom in on, there were many other features of the town making it worth visiting. A river with swans, an old castle and keep or something to play princesses in, a fantastic church that was a monastery. Selection of shops, including a fish shop - if you like fish you can go and learn how to cook it there. Although clearly if you really liked fish you wouldn't want to cook them. A bandstand, with belly dancers and morris dancers. Although not at once. An old mill which was free and had a man inside playing the piano and singing. A paddling pool and a good play area, right on the quayside. And best of all, a prime parking position at Christchurch sailing club, where we were visitors. Now, there is the sailing club we know, which is a wooden tumbling down hut opposite the Fawley power station. Good points: ridiculously cheap food and drink, rope swing, camping field. And there is Christchurch sailing club. For which you need to know the password to get in, has proper carpet and expensive food and drink, and which is mostly populated by elderly members who no longer sail in anything shorter than 36 foot. The welcome was wonderful, very accomodating people, whose open meeting was only ruined by the awful weather. It rather spoilt our camping adventure too, as I did not sleep on the Saturday night as I listened to the wind and rain, but was delighted to find all of us dry and still in the same spot we had pitched when dawn eventually broke. Best £50 purchase on ebay, that tent! We have taken to wanton use of the gas canister as a general tent heating device, making the time spent camping a little more pleasant. I was groaning that I was too old for camping but sadly the girls love it and I do too, when the sun shines. A said, in the car in the rain, that it was better than Fuertaventura.

I have planned a killer cycle ride with that well known Tour de France veteran Angela Whitmore. We are going on it next weekend ( I know, I usually don't tell you anything in advance for fear of stalking ( Steve) ) BUT today's voyages will make more sense if you appreciate that I am in training.

1. to nursery with A on back. Back of bike, NOT on my back.
2 to Hedge End to get something laminated and take library books back. Also bought a danish pastry and a smoothie and a sweater in a charity shop. Did not buy the pastry and the smoothie in the charity shop, got them in the coop.
3. to Bitterne. Met Angela and granma for a quick pit stop in Bakers Oven.
4. Swam about 20 lengths at Bitterne Public Drains.
5. Biked home, without getting off up that hill.
6. To nursery with H cycling too.
7. to Haskins, all the way down Cutbush lane. Nice off road route, but not really for bikes, as loads of those metal things to stop you going too fast. Ate a scone and drank tea.
8. Home from Haskins along the A27 on the too narrow pavements next to too fast cars. Walked all the way up the hill from West End to the church.
9. Collapsed in the bath with a glass of wine and Kate Adie.