#james hoch

[lunchboxpoems]

POLYCARDIAL

You don't have to be a cephalopod to understand it's good to have a spare hidden somewhere in the body's crags. You don't need to possess random superpowers nor free dive in arctic rifts or play emotional whack-a-mole. I mean, who couldn't use a wonderfully engorged backup, a blue reliever to answer the hunger of being human. You never know. You never know. But spares, these days, hard to come by. Can't score them in the East Village anymore, not dozing on a bench in Tompkins Square Park, not even Brooklyn. Forget Brooklyn. Imagine. Some days you slump in the paunch of a lawn chair, sipping gin and tonic, and a Gremlin goes by and you dream the smell of your teenage self and herself, how you took time, how she showed you, kissing in an orange beater that forever faintly stunk of oil and singed carburetor hose and stale Parliament cigarettes. Her car, her mouth. It was good, right? In your rush, you were kind, right? All those fantasies are now memories. They float in a softly lit aquarium exhibit you've curated your whole life, and you are almost returned to 1982 yellowy streetlamp night, cassettes playing "Take on Me"... "I Melt with You"... Why are we equal parts tender and not? Perhaps, we were once polycardial: one heart of air; the other air that burns. Maybe one burst and cauterized the other. Or the humans exhausted all the feelings, so ran to the fjord and threw our wasted heart into the sea. Which might explain squid and octopi, and why we are lousy at swimming, and why your heart thaws in the sink of your old tired weak worn-out body which no longer sleeps, which wakes and stirs the warm second you hear your wife open the screen door or children shrieking in the yard as they gather jarfuls of fireflies. Listen: Let the air be an ocean. Let the ocean occupy your tongue.

JAMES HOCH

#james hoch #poem #poetry month #poetry

[firstfullmoon]

I want to dedicate this poem to my son who I worry into a misshapen form of worry. And to worry itself, how it hangs like a blanket over the head of a horse. Why do they blanket the heads of horses standing by themselves alone in a field, not seeing, but snorting and roaming, their skins seeking each other’s aloneness? I have no idea. I have never owned a horse, though property is no giver of ideas. Forgive me, my mother has died, and I am trying to understand, so my son understands why his father’s saying nothing in the car, the yard, the table. My mother has died. Do you know? It’s like standing in a field, swallows carving flit and whir and hatch, then it’s like the field being gone. No one notices in the clumsy fog. Do you see there is no distance? She is not a thing. There are no figures for this grief, the air tastes of ground. Have you ever lost all context? I tack this poem to a telephone pole that survives drought, survives flood, though it is made of heat and water. The other day, walking across the room, my son looked at me like he was eyeing a sick planet, then put his arms around his weeping father, who can’t make it through a meal without weeping, as if holding a planet might heal it. I want to thank him, but only have this poem, a raft I’ve made from the skins of flayed horses I’ve filled with air. It floats between us. It is wrong he feels asked to wade the river, his love a busted hydrant on a forever sunny day.

— James Hoch, “Dedication”

#you miss your mother? me too #w #poetry #james hoch #love with no place to go

[whisperthatruns]

Disgrace and Oblivion in Ancient Rome

Sometimes names were shaved from relief, chiseled off or written over with others’ scrawled with frenzied hammer. Sometimes one man’s head took another’s ear; the image mauled, contorted until nothing looked true. Refiguring one thing for the aggrandizement  of another, it’s older than the hills. All day I was thinking it over---The morning Gabija was sick, cross-legged in bed, eating a jar of horseradish, I took her son, Pijus, for a walk in the park outside Vilnius, where Soviets fashioned the stone of Jewish cemeteries into Stalin. When I think of Pijus, he looks like me, or what my son might, bored, tracing the wells of letters with his finger. Then he’s running toward me, hands cupped, lifting them to his ear. In the dark, a cricket, a little song amid history.

*

My father, who taught history thirty-eight years but drank longer and with greater dedication, told me history was dust. It was noon, both of us warm on chowder and cherryless manhattans. He must’ve meant the dust of books, of stacks of Civil War Times, dust of a lens, of a projector he captained nodding off, dust of a warbling record, dust of stone, of a slave’s hand, of furnace, dust of field, of horse dragging plow, dust of work camp, death camp, breath, dust of one tower, another coming down, the birds disturbed seething in and out of form. I have no idea what my father meant, or can’t figure how he held it together---history and liquor.

*

Once I saw a horse shot in the head. I was sitting in the Cutlass beside my father. Ahead, a pickup’s flashers blinked in fog. The driver pulled a gun off the window rack, stood over the buggy wrecked on its side, the horse broken in its traces. Another lifted the horse’s head, held it awhile, in his lap. I thought the man might fix the horse, its place of dying. Instead, my father covered my eyes, as if he could blind the clap spreading over the field, the far ridge, the sky filling, the blood. All my life I wanted his hands. Now, if I could, I’d leave them for air, the way Pijus, who knew a hundred ways to kill an insect, left the cricket in the grass. And though they are not the same, it is hard to say this world, the last, the other we have yet to know are not the same, that a star’s brilliance and misery are not the same, that Pijus is not the boy I was, that I am not the man he already is.

*

I was thinking about it walking near the newly unveiled aqueducts, crabs scurrying white in the video’s bright flood. In Rome, still young, my wife and I, holding hands as we crossed--- Gregorio, Claudia, Annia, Aurelio, Capo D’Africa. And there, a man squatting against a wall, a wad of newspaper in his hand. And there--- rising up, decaying down, the Colosseum small, far off, distant-flat like a painting, before the pocks of erosion, before the rosary of coin and traffic, before ancient became kitsch. Still time for the thing to stay, film at the end of a film, screen white, reel aching in its circle, the way Pijus and the cricket looked being held, the way they do now---ash stepping out of ashcan, memory the wind shifts into nothing. I can’t explain this. It goes on older than the hills of Rome or Vilnius or New York. Walking in a park, looking at things, it was brief.

James Hoch, Last Pawn Shop in New Jersey (Louisiana State University Press, 2022)

#james hoch #disgrace and oblivion in ancient rome #last pawn shop in new jersey #poetry

[havingapoemwithyou]

dedication by James Hoch

#James Hoch #poetry #poem

[gustaving]

“Last Pawn Shop in New Jersey,” by James Hoch

#poetry #lit #hwdr #James hoch #last pawn shop in New Jersey

[n-atacia]

Why are we equal parts tender and not?

Perhaps, we were once polycardial:

one heart of air; the other air that burns.

-James Hoch, Polycardial

#poetry #quote #quotes #james hoch

[therescues]

Become one of us…

Based on the 1987 classic Warner Bros. film, The Lost Boys- A New Musical will be directed by Michael Arden with music and lyrics by The Rescues and book by David Hornsby & Chris Hoch.

Produced by James Carpinello, Marcus Chait, and Patrick Wilson.

#TheLostBoys #TheLostBoysMusical #The Lost Boys Musical #The Lost Boys #Patrick Wilson #Marcus Chait #James Carpinello #The Rescues #David Hornsby #Chris Hoch #Youtube #Michael Arden

[werewolfetone]

End of the Irish Invasion ; — or — the Destruction of the French Armada. James Gillray, 1797.

In this cartoon, Gillray depicts the failure of a French fleet commanded by Admiral Hoche and Theobald Wolfe Tone, which was meant to reach Ireland and help the United Irishmen take over, and eventually gain independence, but was held back by strong winds. According to an 1851 book on Gillray, "On the French expedition to Bantry Bay, at the end of 1796. Pitt, Dundas, Grenville, and Windham are the four winds which blow up the storm to destroy the invaders. Fox, as the carved figure at the head of the Revolution, is represented as influencing the United Irishmen. The crew of the jolly-boat are Sheridan, Liberty Hall, Erskine, M. A. Taylor, and Thelwall, who, it is insinuated, were all approvers, at least, of the Irish rebellion."

#THIS is what i was trying to post. god #james gillray #louis hoche #wolfe tone #richard sheridan #john thewall #charles fox #william pitt the younger #henry dundas #lord grenville #william windham #political history #political cartoon #1798 rebellion

[mushroomwriter]

— James Hoch, Wall

#theuntamededit #mxtxnet #theuntameddaily #cqledit #cdramasource #cdramaedit #dramasource #dailyasiandramas #chen qing ling #Jiang Cheng #Wei Wuxian #The Untamed #Twin Prides #yunmeng shuangjie #twin prides of yunmeng #cql p #myedit #id in alt text

[fortheloveofaussiegrit]

@fortheloveofaussiegrit 's deep dive into Mark and his love of twinks...

Sebastian Vettel 

Where does one even start when trying to explain this... that's his twink of the past, present, and future— his forever. [first: debatable but the beginning of martian at the Fuji GP 2007 when Seb crashed into the back of Mark ruining both of their races, they were running 2nd and third. second: the day i lost my sanity, Abu Dhabi 2022]

Oscar Piastri

His twink of the present [i don't think i need to say anything... but photos above are from Mark's website from his blog post about Oscar winning the F2 championship and how Mark stayed in Abu Dhabi with Oscar after the GP for the young driver f1 test...]

Mitch Evans

Without Mitch we wouldn’t have got Oscar/Mark... (this is what oscarmark could’ve been but not sure i would’ve been able to handle oscar posting mark the way mitch did) Started in 2010, Mark then went on to manage him and Mitch even moved into Mark’s home in England, down the drive but point still stands [first: Mark Webber takes protege on birthday tour, 2010 (speedcafe.com) second: Mark embracing Mitch after he took maiden victory in Formula E, 2019 (📷Sam Bloxham) bottom two: from Mitch’s IG circa 2014] 

Daniel Ricciardo

i like that belt buckle mate [first/second: F1 Paddock 2013 (📷skysports.com) third: Mark & Daniel’s BBQ on the beach ahead of the Aus GP 2011 (📷flickr) fourth/fifth: Dutch GP 2022.]

 

Fernando Alonso

again do i need to say anything? i think this sums it up (thank you to @seafoampearlygirl for the screen shot and your help too, much appreciated!!

and this... [Jenson Button, Giancarlo Fisichella, Fernando Alonso & Mark Webber for Benetton Renault 2001 F1 launch]

Lewis Hamilton

If there's one thing about Mark that you need to know its his love of twinks with world championships... @mwebber​ has a post here on these two! Mark always loves talking about Lewis and the way they look at each other.. [first: Mark and Lewis during the post-qualy presser at the Spanish GP, 2010 (📷Sutton Images) second: during the pre-race presser at the Aus GP, 2013 (📷Hoch Zwei) third: Abu Dhabi GP, 2017 (📷James Moy)]

Nico Rosberg

from teammates at Williams to Mark snapping pics of the back of Nico in 2023… [first: Mark talking to test driver Nico Rosberg during the German GP, 2005 (📷Pakusch) second: Monaco ePrix 2023]

Max Verstappen

like i said... twinks with championships [first: ‘bumped into these two over easter and managed a few k on the trails’ Apr, 2018 (Mark’s FB) second: Hangar-7, 2019]

Felipe Massa 

yeah... [first: Brazil 2012, i think (📷sky-sports.com) second: Brazil 2013 (📷xpb images)]

Brendon Hartley 

he’s already featured a few times, but from rbr junior driver to teammate... yeah.. is there a pattern? [first: Spanish GP 2009 (📷DPPI Images) second: Brendon, Mark & Timo after winning the 6 hours of Bahrain and the WEC Drivers Championship 2015 (📷fiawec.com)]

Jenson Button

and finally we get to Jenson Button, who, yes, is younger than Mark so makes it onto the list... the ultimate twink on twink... you cannot tell me this wasnt a couples holidays covered up as ‘training’. you cannot tell me they were not fumbling around in their bedsheets at night. you cannot tell me— [redacted redacted redacted] — [pre-season training session in Lanzarote, Spain. 4 Jan 2001 📷Mark Thompson]

#i had this idea and had to run with it #this is just a bit of fun #please please take this with a side of delulu #if ive missed anyone let me know cos ive got another 4 ppl i wanted to add so i’ll do a part 2 #mark/brendon #mark/lewis #mark/nico #mark/mitch #mark/max #mark/jense #mark/dan #mark/nando #seb/mark #oscarmark

[ava-does-dumbassery]

hihi i just have a question!! what books do you use to study hieroglyphics? im looking for more books to add to my arsenal :3

Thank you for the ask!

To learn Middle Egyptian I’ve mainly been using Middle Egyptian Grammar by James E Hoch. It’s generally really easy to understand, my one tiny problem with it is that not all the exercises in it have answers in the book, which can make it hard to tell if you're correct sometimes if you're using it on your own instead of in a college course (like I am).

Both of the dictionaries I use are available on the internet archive for free, because I’m real cheap like that.

Dictionary of Middle Egyptian in Gardiner Classification Order. This dictionary is organized so that you can search for words by their hieroglyphs (using their sign list numbers) instead of transliterations. It doesn't have every potential spelling, so sometimes it is better to search the words by transliterations, but is very convenient for figuring out words that have been abbreviated down to just their determinatives. You can search the transliterations in it using Manuel de Codage as well. This dictionary is really great because of how searchable it is, but the drawback is that the definitions in it aren't that full. Like, the verbs don't have explanations of what they mean when they're used with certain prepositions.

I use this dictionary a lot more for figuring out what words I'm looking at than for defining words.

A Concise Dictionary of Middle Egyptian (Modernized). This one has full definitions! You can also search it by Manuel de Codage, but there is an issue I've noticed where, because the transliterations in the book aren't Manuel de Codage and proper nouns are capitalized, sometimes searching for place names or god names with match case on doesn't work, or you will need to change the first letter to a capital. Like, "wsir" or "iwnw" won't get results, but "Wsir" or "Iwnw" will. But then neither "stX" or "StX" will get results. Also, as the name says its "concise," which means all the words aren't there, just the ones that are the most common an useful.

I haven't gotten too deep into learning hieratic yet, but I have been at least trying to teach myself what shapes signs generally had in the Middle Kingdom, and I really like this website! It has scans of a bunch of different hieratic signs from various eras, and it will let you search for glyphs by their Gardiner sign list number.

In the 1,000 years it took for me to answer this ask (sorry) my mom got me a copy of Alan Gardiner's Egyptian Grammar for my birthday, but I haven't looked at it at all yet (also you probably already knew about this one).

#maybe you already knew about all this stuff already IDK #I hope this was helpful though #Ava has thoughts #ava answers asks #ancient egypt stuff

[inuhiime]

:: 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 !

' i invented a world because death is unknowable and someone i loved was about to live there ' ( ramona ausubel )

' because it's mine, i wait for it to die. then i bury it ' ( carrie fountain )

' it's okay. i love you, it's okay ' ( aracelis girmay )

' what's the word for being born of sorrow that isn't yours? ' ( cam awkward-rich )

' we were hungry, and human, and knew exactly what we were doing ' ( ali shapiro )

' what you fear will not go away : it will take you into yourself and bless you and keep you ' ( william stafford )

' it hasn't escaped me that the object that keeps me alive is the same one that will kill me ' ( margartet atwood )

' didn't you have to promise, a hundred times, not to die? ' ( rainer maria rilke )

' i don't remember my youth, do you think that i do? ' ( sheila heti )

' that's how it is for humans, unless and until they are tragic ' ( michael kinnucan )

' those who have died are always in my prayers ' ( nick cave )

' of course the love is there ' ( anne sexton )

' whatever you need. there's no rush ' ( durga chew-bose )

' in the next world, should i remember this one, i will praise it above everything ' ( david ignatow )

' last night i dreamt about you ' ( franz kafka )

' go on, talk to me, please ' ( william carlos williams )

' it's not enough to brace yourself ; eventually you must allow this world to hit you in the face ' ( carrie fountain )

' so what is the fuck is the matter with me? ' ( tony kushner )

' i'm preparing myself for a series of ongoing burials ' ( hanif abdurraqib )

' what sense could there be in that? ' ( anne carson )

' i love you with what in me is unfinished ' ( robert bly )

' i was there. i am always here ' ( summer farah )

' don't tell me your fears. let's just swap our worst pick up lines ' ( ali shapiro )

' i missed sadness because i no longer missed you ' ( paul guest )

' here is the game : today you are not going to die ' ( grant howitt )

' you thought you could make things be a certain way ' ( fleda brown )

' let it hurt. but let me survive ' ( susan sontag )

' i don't know, but you were there and i was there ' ( ada limón )

' i will not do the old things that i've always done ' ( heather havrilesky )

' it was an honor to have loved you ' ( joanna klink )

' i'm not so sure i need to say goodbye anymore ' ( nick cave )

' didn't you wake up feeling that you had no future? ' ( rainer maria rilke )

' there's no such thing as life, it's just catastrophe ' ( anne carson )

' do you think anything else under heaven really matters? ' ( james baldwin )

' why are we equal parts tender and not? ' ( james hoch )

' you will save yourself. you cannot help it ' ( molly brodak )

' we have to put our hands in the earth to make ourselves whole again ' ( robin wall kimmerer )

' i have killed for it and would again ' ( natalie shapero )

' i want to know what is holy ' ( carrie fountain )

' aren't we all disquieted by what we'll leave behind? ' ( durga chew-bose )

' so take me with you as a reminder that this present moment will one day be gone ' ( sheila heti )

' it's not sad at all, any of it ' ( carl phillips )

' i left the last of you to be lost in the fog inside me ' ( paul guest )

' in the whole entire world, you are the only person, the only person i love or have ever loved ' ( tony kushner )

' i could have told you it's all right, it's going to be all right ' ( carmen maria machado )

' you are wasting this life expecting disappointment ' ( eliza griswold )

' it's okay. i think i did what i could ' ( jane mead )

' i don't think we're all meant to save the world all the time ' ( andrew garfield )

' sometimes, when i'm careless, i think survival is easy ' ( ocean vuong )

' i'm satisfied with being. are you? ' ( clarice lispector )

#rp meme #rp starter #sentence prompts #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #⪩⪨ ･･･ lit

[acrosstobear]

MICK SCHUMACHER Sunday, 2022 Italian GP by James Gasperotti / Hoch Zwei

#mick schumacher #f1 #formula 1 #haas #italian gp 2022

[whisperthatruns]

The poet's job is to develop an ear, not a voice.

James Hoch in class, 2012

#james hoch #misc #poetry

[ljaesch]

English Cast Announced for The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen: From Villainess to Savior Anime

The English cast has been announced for The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen: From Villainess to Savior anime: Karlii Hoch is Pride Adam Gibbs is Arthur Blake Weir is Eric Brandon Hearnsberger is Albert Brittney Karbowski is Tiara Courtland Johnson is Callum James Marler is Stale Jay Hickman is Gilbert Jeremy Gee is Val Joe Daniels is Clark Luis Gallindo is Rodrick Shelley Calene-Black is…

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#anime #The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen: From Villainess to Savior

[logi1974]

Südengland 2023 - Tag 16

Ladies and Gentlemen!

Heute verlassen wir unser schnuckeliges Cottages am Brue River und wir machten uns auf den Weg, bis in den New Forest Nationalpark.

Ein letztes Mal schauen wir zum Tor von Glastonbury hoch und auch bei dem Festivalgelände sehen wir noch einmal nach dem Rechten. Inzwischen wurden jede Menge mobiler Toilettenkabinen angeliefert und auch die Zeltstadt nimmt langsam Formen an.

Der New Forest Nationalpark befindet sich im Süden Englands und bildet eine weitläufige, abwechslungsreiche Region. Der Nationalpark besteht aber keineswegs nur aus Wäldern, auch wenn das Forest im Namen das suggeriert.

Der Nationalpark heißt zwar „New“, also „neu“, der Wald wurde allerdings bereits 1079 als Jagdgebiet für König William I. angelegt.

Seitdem sorgen mittelalterliche Gesetze dafür, dass sich Tiere frei und ungehindert bewegen können. Dies gilt bis heute: Tausende Ponys, Rinder und Schweine durchstreifen das Gelände.

Große Bereiche dienen auch als Ackerland oder sind unscheinbare Heidelandschaften, in denen Tiere schon seit Jahrhunderten grasen.

Die Wälder sind zum Schutz vor Nutztieren allesamt eingezäunt (sogenannte Inclosures). So wird verhindert, dass die Tiere den Wald zerstören.

Wir fuhren quer durch den New Forest zu Orten, an denen man gerne länger anhalten würde, Lynhurst, Minstead, Totton, Boldre, Lymington und Beaulieu.

Jeder Ort hätte viel zu sehen und zu tun. Wir nehmen uns vor, dass wir hier noch einmal wieder kommen müssen und dann aber richtig, für ein paar Tage verweilen.

Mitten auf der Straße sind uns mehrere Stuten mit Fohlen begegnet, wir mussten anhalten, denn die Tiere haben Vorrang New Forest ist ein Naturschutzgebiet. Die Tiere dürfen seit Urzeiten frei und ohne Einzäunung rumlaufen und sind recht zutraulich.

Gegen Mittag erreichen wir Lymington. Bei Lymington handelt es sich um eine urige Hafenstadt und einen der malerischsten Orte an der Küste von Hampshire.

Die geschichtsträchtige Stadt verfügt heute über eine der größten Marinas Europas, die 1000 Liegeplätze zählt und in der zahlreiche Luxusjachten liegen.

Lymington hegt seit jeher eine enge Bindung zum Meer: Der Wohlstand der Stadt rührt vom Meer her. Im Mittelalter war sie ein wichtiger Salzproduzent, im 18. Jahrhundert ein Schiffsbauzentrum und heute ist sie bekannt für Segelsport.

Vom Lymington Pier, an der östlichen Seite des Hafen, verkehrt mehrmals täglich eine Fähre, die zur Isle of Wight fährt.

Am frühen Nachmittag kehren wir im Macdonald Elmers Court Hotel ein. Das Hotel befindet sich in einem charmanten Herrenhaus mit Tudorgiebeln aus dem Jahr 1820 und ist von einem 23 Hektar großen, üppigen Privatgrundstück umgeben.

Die riesigen Flügelfenstern aus den frühen 1900er Jahren lenken den Blick auf den Solent.

Die exquisit verzierte Decke und das Gesims des Ballsaals sind beeindruckend, ebenso wie die hübsch geschnitzten Holzvertäfelungen im Musikzimmer und in der Bar.

Dort haben wir “ausnahmsweise” heute einen Afternoon Tea für uns bestellt. Für den Preis von 30 Pfund hätten wir da deutlich mehr erwartet.

Und dass wir in so einem Etablissement den Kellner aktiv auffordern müssen, doch bitte den Tisch einmal abzuwischen … naja. Doch der absolute Knaller war, als er dann mit so einem mini Feudel kam, wischte er ganz ökonomisch genau nur dort ab, wo wir saßen - der Rest des Tisches blieb, wie er war. Dafür gab es dann auch von uns, ganz ökonomisch, 0 Komma 0 Trinkgeld.

Ursprünglich als “The Elms” bekannt, wurde das Haus 1874 von der Familie Whitaker übernommen. James Whitaker war Abgeordneter und JP, und es wird angenommen, dass “The Elms” als örtliches Gerichtsgebäude genutzt wurde, daher die eventuelle Namensänderung in “Elmers Court”.

Als Hugh Whitaker das Anwesen 1893 erbte, baute er einen Großteil des Anwesens um und ergänzte viele seiner herausragenden Merkmale – die Giebel im Tudor-Stil und die hübsch geschnitzten Täfelungen.

Das beeindruckende Herrenhaus war einst sogar eine Spionageschule. In den 1930er Jahren ging das Haus an den Gemeinderat über und wurde in den 1940er Jahren an das War Office verliehen.

Es wurde von den amerikanischen und kanadischen Streitkräften als Elektronik- und Kommunikationszentrum genutzt, um die Landungen am D-Day zu koordinieren.

Für uns liegt das Elmers Court sehr günstig, nur fünf Gehminuten von Lymingtons Pier Station und den Fähren zur Isle of Wight entfernt - und mit dem Auto sind es quasi nur Sekunden.

Wir haben uns auf die 16 Uhr Fähre eingebucht. Das Zeitfenster zum Einchecken auf die Fähre ist zwischen 15 Uhr und 15.30 Uhr.

Das Wetter ist mehr als prächtig und wir sind viel zu warm angezogen. Als wir uns heute morgen startklar machten, rechneten wir mit einem frischen Wind an der Küste. Meine dicke Jacke, die ich vor 2 Wochen noch in Dünkirchen dringend brauchte, wartete heute vergebens auf ihren Einsatz.

Die Isle of Wight, die einfach nur als “die Insel” bezeichnet wird, ist von Lymington aus mit der Fähre in 40 Minuten zu erreichen.

Die Isle of Wight selber ist durch den Solent, einen Meeresarm des Ärmelkanals, vom Festland getrennt. Fähren gibt es von mehreren größeren und kleineren Städten entlang der Küste.

Wer mit dem eigenen Auto auf die Insel will, kommt nicht um die Wightlink Fähren herum. Auf der Fähre selbst sind die beiden unteren Decks für Autos reserviert.

Auf den oberen Decks kann man sich entweder hinter den großen Panoramafenstern verschanzen oder auf festgeschraubten Plastikbänken die Sonne genießen. Insgesamt unterhält Wightlink sechs dieser Schiffe.

Die Breite des Solent zwischen der Isle of Wight und dem Festland ist wirklich überschaubar: Bei einer maximalen Breite von gerade einmal fünf Meilen ist das gegenüberliegende Ufer so gut wie immer sichtbar.

Die Meerenge selbst ist eines der berühmtesten Segelreviere Englands. Die Stadt Cowes auf der Insel gilt als Segelhauptstadt des Königreiches. Hier wird auch der Admiral’s Cup ausgetragen.

Gegen 16.45 Uhr fahren wir in Yarmouth von der Fähre. Mit gerade einmal 885 Einwohnern ist Yarmouth der kleinste Ort Englands, der sich Town nennen darf. Dieses Recht wurde dem Örtchen 1135 verliehen.

Eine wirkliche glückliche Geschichte hat dieser Ort nicht zu bieten: Wegen seiner Lage als “Hüter” der Isle of Wight wurde er immer wieder von den Franzosen überfallen und niedergebrannt.

Auch vom Schiff wirkte der Hafen mehr als überschaubar. Dafür hatte man einen tollen Blick auf die Verteidigungsanlagen der Stadt. Hier steht heute leider nur noch eine einzige Kanone.

Die Isle of Wight gibt sich ansonsten als Erholungsgebiet. Den Einwohnern der Südküste Englands, bis rauf nach London, dient diese Insel als Ferienort und Rückzugsgebiet aus dem stressigen Alltag.

Wer Action sucht, ist hier eher falsch. Dafür gibt es jede Menge Campingplätze und Sommerhäuser.

Für uns geht es in östlicher Richtung, quer über die Insel, und nach etwa 45 haben wir den Ferienort Shanklin erreicht. Oberhalb des Ortes liegt der Parkdean Resorts Lower Hyde Holiday Park, in dem unsere Unterkunft, ein Caravan, liegt.

Hier richten wir uns am Abend für die nächste Woche häuslich ein. Es war ein langer Tag und wir werden heute sicherlich keine Unternehmungen mehr anstreben.

Bis wir unseren ganzen Krempel verstaut (oder auch verstreut) haben und das Abendessen zubereitet ist, dann ist der Abend für uns gelaufen.

Good N8

Angie, Micha und Mister Bunnybear (Hasenbär)

#new forest national park #Lymington #Isle of Wight #Südengland