After Wickham the road descended and turned east to run parallel to the coast. The trees thinned out and we weaved with sheer pleasure on first sight of the sea. Blokes with tattoos watched us come and go while women (with tattoos) looked straight through. We passed a fish and chip shop reminiscent of a 50s American diner and the thought of stopping to eat fish and chips by the sea popped like a greasy bubble in the pleasure centre of my brain. At last I had a plan to suit my early arrival.
The Still and West is a landmark on Portsmouth's historic dockside, the bitter is excellent and they also do fish and chips. The food is not the best in the world, it has to be said, but the pub has a unique aspect, you can sit right over the water’s edge and watch ships pass by a spit away - Sitting on the Dock of a Bay, in every sense it was meant. I sipped a pint of ESB and necked some fish while watching my ship come in. Meanwhile, the Black Bullet drew passersby to a standstill with her pleasing proportions and graceful lines (click photo), and closed the deal on their affections with a little oily wee on the pavement.
