Above us the Waves (and Bombs)

I am being brought up in the best possible way, honest.
For example, certain things are stressed and underlined such as eating up your greens and so forth, and that's worked out well. In addition, we like to go shirtless cycling in good weather for the fresh air and Vitamin D and also to re-use those special gift-aid tickets from museums and castles that allow you to go back for a second visit free, within one year.
So we got out our tickets from the 'Done-it Box' for the Explosion! Museum of Naval Firepower and the HMS Alliance and Submarine Museum, both in Gosport.
Leaving at the crack of 0930, we cycled to the Gosport Ferry and took the wrong road. This is because the Haslar road bridge is out, like in True Lies when the Harriers missile it to death. We found this from the local transport and tourist guide website, so planned a route around Stoke Lake (a large smelly tidal lagoon) which added 25 minutes to our journey.
This did not deter Bud who found a new pub called the Fighting Cocks and a new swingpark which we shall visit again. We got to the Submarine museum at 1030 as planned and waved our free tickets and investigated all the subs from the Holland 1 (the first Navy sub, 1901) to the models of the Vanguard class and got our trip around the HMS Alliance with some tall people who hadn't washed and then I bought a T-shirt with the double-dolphin badge and had a large bit of fudge cake to keep me going, you know the way it is. You can see the sea out of the periscopes which is nice.
On the way out, we thought we'll just have a quick look at the Haslar road bridge just in case and hey bleedin' presto, it was indeed closed. Closed to cars, but pedestrians and cyclist were OK. So we walked back over the bridge saving us 25 minutes and a lot of complaining. At exactly 1230, the Holy Trinity church clock was showing 1203 and then it struck 57. It turned out to be a funeral, but they were on North Korean time.
From there we struck north through the more expensive regions of the Metropolitan area of Gosport and acquired the Forton Lake footbridge within minutes. This took us to the Explosion! Museum and a lot of empty derelict warehouses that have seen better days, although they were of course full of military personnel so I suppose it's better that we're not at war any more.
Personally I love the shells room with the 18 inch devils and the Gatlings and Nordenfelts and Hotchkisses and the AK47 and the bayonets and mortars and rifles and stabbing weapons and nuclear bombs and rockets and Squid and Hedgehog anti-sub weapons and mines and it's all a boy could want, apart from lunch.

So, in the NAAFI we had lunch. I ordered spinach and ricotta pasta and got beef lasagne instead, but who's counting. It was very meaty and cheesy and hot and of splendid quality and I was full, and it had lots of mushrooms in that I'm sure I don't like but he didn't tell me until I'd eaten them all.
The ride home was easy in comparison and we didn't put our shirts back on cos' of why not and I got Minecraft time before swimming. Afterwards I got cramp so proffered my aching legs to Jof to get a massage and make her feel better after her long day at work.