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Apr. 26th, 2007 06:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eiffel_71Southampton Civic Day today. As it was the last Civic Day before we all leave office soon, there was something of a 'farewell' atmosphere. Our transport for the day was a magnificently restored 1950s open-topped Southampton double decker bus. We started with a full English breakfast at the Star Hotel - while we went downstairs to the main restaurant to serve ourselves the food, we ate in a private function room upstairs. As I filled my plate, Jim noticed the absence of a fried egg and said to me "Are you not having an egg?"
"No, I'm egg white intolerant."
"That leaves two for me, then," he grinned.
As we sat down to eat, Maria (whom I'd made sure sat next to me) observed that it was "the last breakfast". Sue, who'd been stuck in traffic thanks to an accident on the M3, arrived halfway through. Most contented themselves with hollering hello to her and waving, but I went right over to her (on the other side of the room) and gave her the usual hug and kiss - something Maria and my mother were commenting on when I sat back down.
From there it was all aboard the bus to the Southampton Maritime Museum, where we saw some fascinating exhibitions - the permanent one about the history of the port of Southampton, including a couple of impressive model ships made from sheep bone and hair by prisoners of war, then two seasonal exhibitions, one called 'Hello Sailor' about homosexuality at sea, and one all about the Titanic. Audrey and I got so engrossed in that one that we missed the call for everyone to go out to the seafront and watch the Liberty of the Seas sailing out. A museum steward called us and pointed to us where to go just in time for us to see her pull out of port and sail across our line of vision. As we walked back to the museum, both Audrey and Margaret from Rushmoor said wistfully that the sight of her had made them wish they were sailing off on a cruise...
Richard, an ex-bus driver, had been hankering to drive the bus from the very beginning of the day. Our driver graciously allowed him to drive us the short distance to the Guildhall for lunch, sitting in the front seat right behind the glass barrier to keep an eye on him. Maria and Jim pretended to say prayers when he revved up and we set off, but he got us there safely (and without some of the bumps we experienced later in the day!) He pulled up just outside the entrance to the Guildhall car park, and as he got out of the cab we gave him a round of applause. David said "We're clapping with relief," and Jim added "We're clapping him for having the sense to stop here and let the driver park it."
We had a group photo on the Guildhall steps (many of us squinting in the bright sunlight) then indoors for a pre-lunch glass of Pimm's.
"This is the Last Lunch," Maria and I both pointed out when we took our seats, so my mother added that dinner at the Basingstoke ball tomorrow would be the Last Supper, much to Tony's amusement. After the food, John the Southampton Mayor's speech focused on what a special year it's been for all of us, thanking us for being a great 'Chain Gang' and all being good friends, expounded on how this year has taught us all things we never knew about our towns and districts and highlighted the good in them, and adding that he really hopes we'll all stay in touch and hold reunions (that drew a couple of 'Hear, hear's). Peter from Eastleigh rose to thank him on behalf of the guests, David asked the Mayors and Chairmen to rise and toast their consorts, Maria replied for the consorts, and finally Sue just said a few words to thank all the Chain Gang for being there for her. All that was missing was a chorus of Auld Lang Syne.
After the coffee and After Eights, as we had time to take a comfort break or roam around the Guildhall, my mother and Richard were taking photos in the Council Chamber, so I got me ma to do one of me with an arm each round Maria and Sue.
Aboard the open upper deck of the bus en route to our next destination, the Museum of Archaeology, Tony confessed to me that Debbie, his PA, probably wouldn't be able to get Shepherd Neame beers in for me tomorrow. I told him not to worry about it, I'd drink whatever the caterers provided.
We only had about 15 minutes in the Museum, but what we saw was interesting - displays about Roman, Saxon and Medieval Southampton, including lots of genuine ancient artefacts. Their pride and joy was a superbly preserved statue of Taharqa, a black African who was Pharaoh of Egypt in the seventh century BC. The nice lady who showed us round couldn't remember how it had ended up in Southampton; someone had just donated it some time.
The day ended with a trip round Southampton harbour on a Blue Funnel boat. As soon as we got on board, Maria and Sue took their shoes off and sat down with their feet resting up on the seats opposite them. A commentator pointed out various ships and buildings to us; in between we had plenty of time to wander round the boat and chat. When, towards the end, I wandered up to the open upper deck, there were about a dozen of us in the bridge with the Captain. After briefly standing with them, I went to talk to Sue, who was standing on deck by the rail, for a while; when she headed back downstairs and I followed her, my mother said that, with the wind blowing, she wished she'd asked me and Sue to re-enact Kate and Leo's 'flying' scene from Titanic.
Sue and I sat with Tony, Brian from Hart, and Jim, who said to us "I suppose her indoors is chatting up the Captain?" I told him, truthfully, that Maria had been sitting quietly on a chair at one end of the bridge.
"Is she not well?" Jim pretended to be alarmed.
"She's tired," I said, as Maria had told me, slumped across a pair of seats, that she was tired half an hour ago.
"Probably from chatting up the Captain," replied Jim.
Walking out onto the wooden decking at the Blue Funnel pontoon, Richard and my mother began talking about her Highland Gathering next week. We said goodbyes to the people who were being picked up there, then the rest of us boarded the open-top double-decker one last time to go back to the Guildhall.
"When are you going to get on the Council?" Richard asked me.
"I've got no plans to be a councillor."
"That's what they all say."
"As soon as a safe [my mother's party] ward comes up, they'll select you," added Brian from Hart.
Being surrounded mostly by Tories, I didn't bother mentioning that the only political parties I would be likely to join are the Socialist Party or Plaid Cymru, neither of which will ever win a seat on a Hampshire council. I contented myself with explaining that after I, fingers crossed, get my ECDL in summer 2008 and look to get a full time job, it's likely I'll be leaving Gosport.
My mother, at that point, remarked on the beauty of a city-centre park as we drove past it. "Wouldn't mind living round here," I mused, prompting Richard to say "You'd do all right on Southampton council." John added that my mother's party had a shortage of candidates for this year's Southampton council elections. Whoa cowboy.
Back at the Guildhall, some were going in for a cup of tea, but my mother, who's feeling under the weather and has a meeting this evening, wanted to go straight home. She did accede to my request to pop into the Guildhall for a comfort break; on my way out a girl handed me a copy of the group photo we'd had taken at lunch time.
On the drive home, they played Kirsty's A New England on Capital Gold :D
"No, I'm egg white intolerant."
"That leaves two for me, then," he grinned.
As we sat down to eat, Maria (whom I'd made sure sat next to me) observed that it was "the last breakfast". Sue, who'd been stuck in traffic thanks to an accident on the M3, arrived halfway through. Most contented themselves with hollering hello to her and waving, but I went right over to her (on the other side of the room) and gave her the usual hug and kiss - something Maria and my mother were commenting on when I sat back down.
From there it was all aboard the bus to the Southampton Maritime Museum, where we saw some fascinating exhibitions - the permanent one about the history of the port of Southampton, including a couple of impressive model ships made from sheep bone and hair by prisoners of war, then two seasonal exhibitions, one called 'Hello Sailor' about homosexuality at sea, and one all about the Titanic. Audrey and I got so engrossed in that one that we missed the call for everyone to go out to the seafront and watch the Liberty of the Seas sailing out. A museum steward called us and pointed to us where to go just in time for us to see her pull out of port and sail across our line of vision. As we walked back to the museum, both Audrey and Margaret from Rushmoor said wistfully that the sight of her had made them wish they were sailing off on a cruise...
Richard, an ex-bus driver, had been hankering to drive the bus from the very beginning of the day. Our driver graciously allowed him to drive us the short distance to the Guildhall for lunch, sitting in the front seat right behind the glass barrier to keep an eye on him. Maria and Jim pretended to say prayers when he revved up and we set off, but he got us there safely (and without some of the bumps we experienced later in the day!) He pulled up just outside the entrance to the Guildhall car park, and as he got out of the cab we gave him a round of applause. David said "We're clapping with relief," and Jim added "We're clapping him for having the sense to stop here and let the driver park it."
We had a group photo on the Guildhall steps (many of us squinting in the bright sunlight) then indoors for a pre-lunch glass of Pimm's.
"This is the Last Lunch," Maria and I both pointed out when we took our seats, so my mother added that dinner at the Basingstoke ball tomorrow would be the Last Supper, much to Tony's amusement. After the food, John the Southampton Mayor's speech focused on what a special year it's been for all of us, thanking us for being a great 'Chain Gang' and all being good friends, expounded on how this year has taught us all things we never knew about our towns and districts and highlighted the good in them, and adding that he really hopes we'll all stay in touch and hold reunions (that drew a couple of 'Hear, hear's). Peter from Eastleigh rose to thank him on behalf of the guests, David asked the Mayors and Chairmen to rise and toast their consorts, Maria replied for the consorts, and finally Sue just said a few words to thank all the Chain Gang for being there for her. All that was missing was a chorus of Auld Lang Syne.
After the coffee and After Eights, as we had time to take a comfort break or roam around the Guildhall, my mother and Richard were taking photos in the Council Chamber, so I got me ma to do one of me with an arm each round Maria and Sue.
Aboard the open upper deck of the bus en route to our next destination, the Museum of Archaeology, Tony confessed to me that Debbie, his PA, probably wouldn't be able to get Shepherd Neame beers in for me tomorrow. I told him not to worry about it, I'd drink whatever the caterers provided.
We only had about 15 minutes in the Museum, but what we saw was interesting - displays about Roman, Saxon and Medieval Southampton, including lots of genuine ancient artefacts. Their pride and joy was a superbly preserved statue of Taharqa, a black African who was Pharaoh of Egypt in the seventh century BC. The nice lady who showed us round couldn't remember how it had ended up in Southampton; someone had just donated it some time.
The day ended with a trip round Southampton harbour on a Blue Funnel boat. As soon as we got on board, Maria and Sue took their shoes off and sat down with their feet resting up on the seats opposite them. A commentator pointed out various ships and buildings to us; in between we had plenty of time to wander round the boat and chat. When, towards the end, I wandered up to the open upper deck, there were about a dozen of us in the bridge with the Captain. After briefly standing with them, I went to talk to Sue, who was standing on deck by the rail, for a while; when she headed back downstairs and I followed her, my mother said that, with the wind blowing, she wished she'd asked me and Sue to re-enact Kate and Leo's 'flying' scene from Titanic.
Sue and I sat with Tony, Brian from Hart, and Jim, who said to us "I suppose her indoors is chatting up the Captain?" I told him, truthfully, that Maria had been sitting quietly on a chair at one end of the bridge.
"Is she not well?" Jim pretended to be alarmed.
"She's tired," I said, as Maria had told me, slumped across a pair of seats, that she was tired half an hour ago.
"Probably from chatting up the Captain," replied Jim.
Walking out onto the wooden decking at the Blue Funnel pontoon, Richard and my mother began talking about her Highland Gathering next week. We said goodbyes to the people who were being picked up there, then the rest of us boarded the open-top double-decker one last time to go back to the Guildhall.
"When are you going to get on the Council?" Richard asked me.
"I've got no plans to be a councillor."
"That's what they all say."
"As soon as a safe [my mother's party] ward comes up, they'll select you," added Brian from Hart.
Being surrounded mostly by Tories, I didn't bother mentioning that the only political parties I would be likely to join are the Socialist Party or Plaid Cymru, neither of which will ever win a seat on a Hampshire council. I contented myself with explaining that after I, fingers crossed, get my ECDL in summer 2008 and look to get a full time job, it's likely I'll be leaving Gosport.
My mother, at that point, remarked on the beauty of a city-centre park as we drove past it. "Wouldn't mind living round here," I mused, prompting Richard to say "You'd do all right on Southampton council." John added that my mother's party had a shortage of candidates for this year's Southampton council elections. Whoa cowboy.
Back at the Guildhall, some were going in for a cup of tea, but my mother, who's feeling under the weather and has a meeting this evening, wanted to go straight home. She did accede to my request to pop into the Guildhall for a comfort break; on my way out a girl handed me a copy of the group photo we'd had taken at lunch time.
On the drive home, they played Kirsty's A New England on Capital Gold :D
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following in your mother's footsteps
Date: 2007-04-26 09:45 pm (UTC)Don't feel pressured by them to stand - from the way you write (and being the consort etc) it sounds like the last career you want is politics and the one your mother chose.
Sometimes it's better to do something completely different from your parents. My dad was in banking/law, my mum in medicine/teaching. My younger brother followed my mum into the NHS and now wants to quit as soon as his compulsory 2 years is up, I did my own thing in computers and 7 years later am still enjoying it (with most of my family just understanding that it earns me money even if they don't fully understand how or why).
Re: following in your mother's footsteps
Date: 2007-04-27 08:07 am (UTC)Re: following in your mother's footsteps
Date: 2007-04-27 08:23 am (UTC)Which IT qualifications (other than the ECDL you already mentioned) are you studying? I had a friend who went to university at Southampton to study a computer related degree and it was part-funded by IBM. Are there many IT shops/web design companies/businesses in Southampton that are currently hiring?
Re: following in your mother's footsteps
Date: 2007-04-27 02:56 pm (UTC)While Southampton has its appeal, an area I really fancy is West Sussex.
Re: following in your mother's footsteps
Date: 2007-04-27 03:11 pm (UTC)What appeals to you about West Sussex (other than it not being Southampton)?
Re: following in your mother's footsteps
Date: 2007-04-27 03:31 pm (UTC)