Menootery; Local Landmark

On Saturday morning, there was some quite heavy rain, so F and I had to rethink where we might go for the day (a walk around Staunton Gardens seemed soggy, now). It was decided we'd go to Fort Nelson, an armoury museum, the majority undercover. A mere fifteen-minute drive away, F got to experience riding as a co-pilot in The Grey!

It was lunchtime when we arrived, parking was £3, and entry was free. We first partook of the grilled mixed veg with garden salad and a cuppa to sustain ourselves. This proved to be not only excellent value but also delicious. We sat outside at the entrance as the day was beginning to clear up. While there, we watched many folks walking in, including a small group of men in blazers and bearing medals.

The building itself was completed in 1860 and was one of the last such forts built in England. It is one of several around the Portsmouth hills that were built as a defence against possible invasion from France under Napoleon III. That never happened, of course, so this fort became the repository for much of the British forces' weaponry and ammunition. It remained officially in that service until the 1970s. Now it is part of the Royal Armouries museums and houses their national collection of historic artillery and cannon. You can read more HERE.

Among the first things one is faced with when walking into the museum is the Iraqi super-cannon that for so long was thought to be just an oil pipe...

One could not help but admire the craftsmanship of the steelwork, but oh, how much better had it been used for ships or trains...

There was everything to be seen, from 15th-century English wrought iron cannon

to mid-20th-century and more recent weaponry

and lots in between, such as the ornate 'gifting' cannon from places like Burma, India and China...

(You know more piccies will appear on Me-Now-Views, eventually!)

There were rooms set up to display how the soldiers who would originally have manned the fort might have lived (the officers did quite well), 

and then we came to a room with a small but very effective display on the return of the fleet to Portsmouth from the Falklands, forty years ago. F and I sat appreciating the short videos in which news film of the time (some of it I remembered) was shown and also some personal interviews with veteran sailors... one of whom we had noted among the group walking in as we ate lunch. Then I realised that the four were behind us watching also! We rose to let the two older ones take the seat. It was very poignant, and I did have a throat lump, I confess.

Moving outside, we continued to admire the craftsmanship of the instruments of death and destruction - how could they be so beautiful?!

Then we came around to the parade ground, where there is an installation of silhouettes to match the number of marines and sailors who lost their lives in the Falklands. 

The sun had come out, and there was a really respectful peace about the place, so we sat on one of the many seats and pondered this and other things as F brought out her knitting, and I revelled in the warmth on my achy back... Before we knew it, the clock was heading quite well around to five in the afternoon, so we headed back to make sure Tigger wasn't missing us...

Sunday was spent preparing The Grey for departure... hooking up for a charge on the home lead, which took about twelve hours (to 83%)... taking delivery of a back and neck rest for the driver's seat in the hope of improving my back's position for longer trips... topping up the water flagon... wiping out the fridge and sweeping the floors. Also finally, check under the bonnet (hood) for fluid levels. I was a little taken aback at one of the coolant flasks reading minimum. For some reason, it sent me into a little bit of a spin. 

I have noted a slightly unfortunate change in my coping mechanisms for what can, at times, seem like very trivial stuff - then I get angry with myself and it all becomes a tad silly. Having F there as a mirror helped me to recognise that it is a kind of very low-level anxiety thing. The weird thing is I have no fear at all about being on the road and facing folks of all types and situations in general - but somehow, this minimum level in the flask threw me out a bit. I went into a flurry of trying to find out from the impenetrable handbook what fluid is to be used. Then it turned out that the number wasn't recognised by any suppliers - including the Ford online shop itself!!! 

Long story short, there was a sleepless night and on Monday morning, I did some phoning around and even went into the Halfords at Havant (two very lovely and sympathetic and very, very patient young fellows did what they could to help). In the end, I emailed the dealer I bought from with the tale of woe about a part that seems no one has heard of.

I got the message back that the minimum level is perfectly safe to drive with - if it drops, then it might suggest a leak, but a red light on the dashboard would signal this. Neither a leak was detected (by marks on the drive) nor a red light on the dash at the end of my next drive, so sighs of relief all around and just get over yourself, YAMster!!! When my logical brain switched back on, I, of course, recalled this sort of info even from combustion days - I guess it was a bit of The Grey being so new and a significant investment and finding stuff out about managing it is requiring all my research skills, combined, if one is honest, with a little sadness at having to say goodbye to my most wonderful new friends, that I got a tad overwrought.

Anyway, come Tuesday morning, that was me and the van on the road again... Back on Monday with more about the next stage!

Video #3 is uploaded, van lovers!