“I’m just really excited we’re going on the hovercraft”, squeaked the small boy next to me when his dad told him off for some impish behaviour in the hover terminal.
I leaned over, in the style of someone past a certain age who lives alone and can’t help involving herself in other people’s conversations, “So am I”, I said.
We grinned, well small boy and I did, his dad probably thought I was the local child catcher and was memorising my face whilst duly noting to avoid sitting near me on our “flight” across to the island.
It was early June, a time when the British weather can either be glorious or terrible, presumably a quiet time for the hover company. I’d stumbled across an offer online, £5 for a day return, and immediately booked a ticket. It’s usually much steeper, £22.50 minus a discount if you’re a library card holder/member of the forces, etc., which seems like a lot when the journey takes a mere 10 minutes, but I guess it’s quite expensive to keep a fleet of hovercraft running regular flights across the Solent to Ryde, the capital of the Isle of Wight.
I have an urge to run the circumference of the island (67 miles in total), on the coastal path, not all at once, but in manageable stretches. So far, however, I’ve only worked out the logistics of Ryde to Sandown/Shanklin, where the island’s train line makes the section easily workable.
In December, I ran Sandown to Ryde, travelling back to Portsmouth through intense fog, across a major shipping lane. You know they have incredible technology in place so they can easily avoid massive ships, but in a small craft, with horns honking and zero visibility, it still makes it a fairly disconcerting ride.
I had been surprised to find sunshine in Sandown, on the south of the island, when Ryde, in the north, had been quite foggy; however, my delight was short-lived.
When I ran over Culver Down, past the Yarborough Monument, I found myself running back down into the mist. It wasn’t going to be the most picturesque run. However, it was fun: spotting the arrows, keeping to the trail. At one point, the path travelled along a very thin isthmus of land into nothingness. It was like I was running through a cloud, not a bright, fluffy one, but a dank, eerie one. It was slightly creepy, but exciting at the same time. Surely nothing too grizzly could come at you through the mist on the Isle of Wight?
In June, I would start in Ryde and run to Shanklin, a tidy 15 miler.
This time the sun was shining.
There was no danger of getting lost, or veering off course, and the newly revealed scenery certainly made up for the loss of January’s murky thrill. The bays and beaches of the Isle of Wight could easily be mistaken for somewhere much more tropical. 
It was also much easier to navigate my way back to the isthmus at St Helens, which, admittedly, had lost its spooky charm in 100% visibility.
It had, however, uncovered some epic RNLI lifeboat station architecture at Bembridge, which was pretty cool.
The views coming up to and over Culver Down were also spectacular, and it was a joy to finish the final few miles along the sweeping promenade at Sandown, before realising Shanklin was only a short hop along the coast and therefore worth tagging on to the end.
The first time, once I’d reached Ryde, I’d needed a warming hot chocolate from the fancy chocolate shop across from the bus terminal. The second time, I found myself a fabulous little café, randomly situated out the back of a dress shop on Ryde’s main street, and ordered myself a big wooden slab of a cheese board and drank a cold, fruity New Zealand cider whilst sitting in the early afternoon sunshine.
Six months apart and two very different running experiences, both tremendously enjoyable. Now I just need to work out the logistics of the next section and hope for another hover travel bargain. I do hope the impish little boy had as much fun on his day out as I did.
Ich spreche ein bisschen Deutsch 