Friday morning, July 27:
Left for Isle of Wight via bus from Oxford Train station
(trains were still out of order due to flooding)This was my first ride on a double-decker bus, and I rode on the top level of course despite Dr. Hulsey's comments about "if the bus rolls over you're going to get squished like a pancake". Come on, you gotta take a risk sometimes, right??
*Bus to Didcot train station, train to Reading, switch and another train to Southampton.
*From here we took the Red Funnel high speed ferry (it's a catamaran and went really fast!) to Cowes on the Isle of Wight.
Once on the Isle, all of us students had a choice. We could either A. get on a bus and head straight to our lodging or B. go there by foot via a 4 mile hike on the Tennyson trail. Well, the weather seemed decent and the island was absolutely beautiful, so I opted for the hike of course!!! So did about 14 of my classmates, and Dr. Hulsey was our staff chaperon. Before setting out we took a bus to Newport where the trailhead was located and ate lunch in a pub that was obviously not used to large groups of obnoxious American college students. I think I had the jacket potato with beans and cheese - a filling choice. Little did I know that I would need this sustenance for the journey we were about to take...
Dr. Hulsey was our self-appointed guide, being the only person in our group who had ever hiked the Tennyson trail. But... he had done so about 4 years prior and had never been to the location we were setting out for, Brighstone Center, where we would be spending the night. Our journey was delayed by a few false starts - we couldn't find the trailhead, but after consulting some locals (thanks Rick Steves!) we got it on the 3rd try. The day was gorgeous! Sun, but not too hot, rolling green hills, sheep baaaaa-ing in the distance, fields of hay and wheat and flowers. Exactly how you picture the English countryside.
The trail rambled through forests and up hills, and even reminded us of Narnia as we held our breath to see what each fork in the road would bring. We had no problem following the trail because it was well marked every half mile or so. Well, about an hour into the hike it began sprinkling. No problem, it was actually welcome as it cooled us off. But then the sprinkle turned into a drizzle, and the drizzle became a steady rain. We pressed on - there was nothing else to do. I was still having a great time, I love the rain and a little water never hurt anyone. The scenery had an ethereal quality with all the mist. Not everyone was feeling that way though. Then came the "turn for the worse" - literally. We encountered a sign that needed some upkeep - almost all of the letters were rotted away and so we struggled to read the heiroglyphics. We were heading to Brighstone.
One arrow pointed left and read "B__s__ne". The other pointed straight and said "__ghs__one Fo__est". We were split as to what we should do. We ended up going left, which was a muddy (I forgot to mention the dirt path was being stirred into a muddy goo at this point) trail leading into the forest. We followed it for awhile and reached more ambiguous signage. After some more debate we pressed on, until we came to the scariest moment of the hike - a group of cows who were inside the gate of the trail we were on. (The trails we were hiking often cut through fields and one had to climb over fences - usually this was fine but this gate was guarded by some pretty intimidating bovines).
Dr. Hulsey aka alarmist said "there's a bull in there - better be careful" so now we were all spooked. I was 2nd to climb the fence and dart to the other side of the trail, the rest of the group followed. I figured they wouldn't attack the first people across. The bull and his girlfriends watched with glaring eyes and edged closer, but there was no attack. It still felt like the "Isle of Wight running of the bulls". I should suggest this event to their tourist board. Our adrenaline pumping, we continued to an unknown destination. One of our crew had developed nasty blisters, my shoes had an inch or two of water sloshing around in them, and we were worn out from our journey. We had now been hiking for 4 hours and we had no idea where we were at. Our trail came out on the top of a hill which under normal conditions would offer a view of the countryside, but with the pea soup we were in we could only see a few feet in front of us. We discussed turning around and going all the way back to the ambiguous sign and taking the other trail. This would mean another hour in the rain, a pass by the 12 angry cows, and the possibility of hiking as night fell. I was not pleased. I never turn around!!! Come on, push forward I was thinking... just a little further... just then, we heard a noise - it was a car driving in the distance. This meant civilization was near! All of a sudden the mist cleared, just long enough to make out a town ahead of us. We were ecstatic - group hug! We plodded on down the hill and into town, a rag-tag soaking wet group of tourists. We passed houses that had real thatched roofs, and walked on the side of the narrowest road on Earth. We almost got hit by a car about 5 times. Finally we saw it - a church. The sign read "Brighstone Church". We were here!!! Yippee!! Dr. Hulsey grabbed his cell phone and called the bus group. They gave us directions to Brighstone, we were about 3/4 of a mile away. One of the workers drove out and met us in front of the church. He offered to give 5 or 6 of us a ride and said we could all put our luggage in his trunk (that's right, most of us had hiked with a weekend's worth of luggage on our back!!!) Well, lemme just say that after 4 hours in the rain, many of us felt it was a total cop-out to just hop in the car and zip over to the lodge. So... backpacks on backs, pants soaking wet, most of us headed for Brighstone. We were wet, we were tired, but we finished out the journey. We made it!!!! 
And what a place - when we woke up the next morning we discovered we were in cabins perched on the cliff side overlooking the beautiful ocean. We headed out after breakfast on yet another hike!
Except for one person sliding down a hill and getting mud not only on her pants but in her pants, this hike was much more typical. It ended with a view of the chalk while cliffs from whence the Isle of Wight gets its name. What a weekend! (and there was more to come...)
