A WEEK IN WIGHT .
Contrary to my expectations, I found myself in Cowes this year during Cowes Week, and actually visited the Squadron lawn, wrongly dressed in a London suit and a yachting cap. What was worse, I visibly flinched when a gun went off at the end of a race. But the beauty of the scene, the Solent almost lapis in the sunlight and darker than the green and blue nylon spinnakers on some of the yachts, made me forget my social solecisms. People think of the Isle of Wight as crowded, but I bathed during August Bank Holiday week under the brown cliffs east of Freshwater on a sandy beach looking across to the gleaming white cliffs by the Needles, and there was not a soul in sight. This western part of the island is like Dorset, but even more exciting in its variety of, colouring and contour.
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