October 18, 2025, Portsmouth, England- Dawn came, the ravers and revelers had gone home and it was time to ready for another train ride. So, after the morning routine, I headed down to breakfast-greeted cheerfully, with a bit of wariness, by the Scottish hostess. It was a lovely full English spread, with bacon, scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes and baked beans-along with the buffet standards- fresh vegetables and fruit, croissants and toasting bread, a few pastries, hot and cold beverages. It looked to be the last such buffet on this journey, so I took my time and enjoyed.

After breakfast and devotions, it was time to see Portsmouth, on the morning after. There was no huge mess left over-the street crew had come early and was still out in force. I headed first, through the east end of Guildhall with the goal of the near waterfront.

Here are some scenes of a Portsmouth morning.

Crossing the busy intersection, looking right, left and right again (It’s even written to do so, on the pavement), I walked past fields of young men practicing on the Rugby field-a Royal Navy facility. Portsmouth is RN headquarters, after all. At the end, there are the monuments to science and technology, with Spinnaker Tower to the right of the lower round building. Spinnaker is a place from which to get breathtaking views of Portsmouth, Southampton and the surrounding area. I had little time, though, before the scheduled train, so this was my look at the area.

Heading back to IBIS, I retrieved my bags and started towards the train station. The majestic Guild Hall was no worse for the wear, after hosting many flirtatious youngsters and others, the previous night. It is now an event center, and does its job rather well.

Guildhall Square honours tradition.

With that, I headed to the train station, expecting to board the train towards Salisbury. Yet, there was no train to Salisbury. Britrail has an occasional cancellation. This was one such. The Transit Officer explained what I would need to do to re-route, so about forty minutes later, I was on a train to Fareham, and from there to Southampton, where I changed trains again. The rigmarole meant that the train would arrive in Salisbury at 3 p.m. This meant that I would not be going to Stonehenge, as the last bus to that venerable site leaves at 2 p.m., during the “winter months”, which in tourism parlance include October.

This gave me more time to focus on Salisbury itself, and on its majestic Cathedral. More on them both, in the next post.