Adventures: Bakehouse Wanders - Isle Of Wight Part 1

Bakehouse Wanders: Isle Of  Wight

Part 1

This one has been a little slow in the digital printing press, but the mental toner got topped up.

Since the time of COVID and lockdowns—which I miss in an introverted, slower-paced kind of way—I haven't had many excursions. A couple of trips to Devon, and that's about it.

This year has been particularly testing, each month seeming to snowball on the last. Are we really still in 2024? It’s been rough. I’m sure others have had it worse, but it hasn’t exactly been a joyride here either.

With a lot of unused leave and the year running out, I decided to plan a little trip. As I've gotten older, the idea of going on holiday has started to feel like effort. Picking a destination, the expense, packing, early starts, flights, language barriers—you get the idea. Exhausting. Anyone else feel the same?

Then I had a brainwave: a short train ride followed by a ten-minute ferry would land me on an exotic island—the Isle of Wight! Okay, "exotic" might be a stretch, but it sounded like a foreign escape without really going anywhere.

On a whim, I booked a short trip for the very next day. Living life on the edge, I know.

We're Going on a Holiday!

Remember how the whole point of staying close was easier travel? Yeah, about that. I seemed to have booked my trip during the Sussex Festival of Cancelled and Delayed Trains. My journey to Portsmouth became a scenic tour of the South Coast, but weirdly, despite all the train changes, I didn’t arrive much later than planned.

The hovercraft to the Isle of Wight, thankfully, was smooth sailing—both literally and figuratively. My last hovercraft experience, years ago, involved rough waters, engine trouble, and sick bags, so I was relieved this time around was nothing but fun and novelty.

A really useful thing to know about the Isle of Wight is the buses, they're everywhere, and unlike the mainland, they're largely on time. Unless you've come across with a car, buses is how you're going to be getting around.

I stayed in a shepherd’s hut—quaint but modernized. It had an induction hob that I had to Google how to use and, embarrassingly, a kitchen tap I initially couldn’t figure out. The pièce de résistance? Sparkly, colour-changing lights above the bed.

The view wasn’t spectacular—just green fields—but it was peaceful. The real gem of the location? It was next to the Mermaid Gin Distillery and pub. More on that later.

For my first evening, I kept it simple with burgers from a nearby Sainsbury's and a bottle of Malbec. But let’s fast-forward to the morning when the real food hunt began.

Day 1: Ticket to Ryde

A sunny morning called for a coastal stroll to Ryde, about two miles from my accommodation. It’s not a long walk, but I took my time—this was a relaxation trip, after all. The blue skies, gentle waves, and happy dogs playing on the beach made for a perfect start to the day. I didn’t set off until around 9 a.m., and apparently, the locals were still asleep. The quietness was bliss.

The Dell

About halfway through my stroll, I stumbled upon The Dell, a restaurant perched above the beach with sea-view seating. It was practically deserted, yet I got a quizzical look and a hesitant, “I’ll try to fit you in” when I asked for a table for one, like trying to squeeze a Fiat Panda into an empty car park. I felt a little rushed during the whole process, I understood it would get busier later, but there was no danger of that at the time, looking around.

Despite the odd reception, the spot was idyllic. Even now, on a dreary day months later, I can still feel the tranquillity of sitting there—if only the two loudest dogs on the planet hadn’t been competing in a barking contest.

For breakfast, I went with Huevos Rancheros and a cup of tea. Mexican-themed breakfasts aren’t usually my go-to, but I wanted something different. I’m not an avocado fan, but the guacamole added balance to the tortilla, rice, egg, and Sriracha. The tortilla, used as a bowl lining, made for interesting eating—was it finger food or cutlery territory? I settled on tearing bits of the tortilla to scoop the contents, chapati-style.

It was a delightful breakfast in an equally delightful setting.

Exploring Ryde

After breakfast, I continued to Ryde, a charming but steep town (basically a hill with shops). A quick tip: clean public toilets can be found in the Co-op. You’re welcome.

While wandering, I stumbled into a comic-esque shop in search of a clean mug for my accommodation. A Jigglypuff mug? Sold. The shopkeeper, a lovely lady, shared a funny story about how she ended up on the Isle—her parents moved her from Essex, then split and both returned to the mainland, leaving her behind. Fortunately, she likes it there.

Grace’s Bakery

Half way down the hill there's a bakery called Grace's, we're back on familiar territory now. It's a small establishment, but the cakes didn't follow suit—I bought a Belgian Bun, and it was absolutely massive, one weighty cake—I grabbed a coffee whilst in there too.

Let’s start with the don’t, if you are having a drink either have it in or don’t, the takeaway cups are probably more effective as a sieve— by the time I got to the waterfront, not far, I’d got a tan on my hands despite the sun hiding behind some clouds. 

The coffee was okay, nothing remarkable, it tastes better from the cup than sipped off the hand. 

If you’ve learned anything from my excursions you’re more likely to see a red squirrel than a bakery that des both coffee and baking to high standards, they usually go one way or the other. 

Grace's definitely aired on the baking side, which is my preferred take for a bakery, clue is in the name. Belgian bun, first word that comes to mind weighty, it’s a big’on’. Could be lighter but definitely makes it up in size and currants—you’re not short changed on fruit.

While munching my elevenses, I had a bizarre interaction with a local. An older gentleman asked about my BrewDog T-shirt, and before I knew it, my Scottish accent (which I didn’t know I had) made an appearance. Apparently, I was convincing enough to pass as an actual Scot. Improv skills: unlocked.

After the morning of relaxation and amateur thespian frivolities, it was time for lunch—I spotted a curiosity part way up the hill, the name was what drew me in—The Wonky Goat.

The Wonky Goat

This one isn't a bakery, a deli would probably be most appropriate to describe it. A noticeable theme with the units on the main street is that they tend to be narrow and long, which does make it a bit dark inside—there's not necessarily much that can be done about it, maybe some mirrors, but its an observation.

Ordering from the counter I got irrationally excited, they had Ginger Beer, a very much underrated beverage—yum. For my lunch I went for a Tuna Salad sandwich, I'm not sure if its technically a doorstep, but could definitely be used as one considering that it must have had a school of Tuna inside. 

If you're out for some lunch definitely pop in, they don't skimp on portion sizes, and the food is decent. Its not fine cuisine, but often you want something comforting, which is what you get. I can take or leave the crisps the sandwich is served with, but the amount of tuna and salad within the wholemeal bread was fantastic. 

I'm glad it was a filling lunch because I went for a walk next, when I say walk, hike may be closer, although that sounds short itself.

The Crab & Lobster Inn

My legs feel tired at the thought of writing this bit, I'm using a standing desk, granted, but still.

Having spent the morning in Ryde, I thought I'd go for a walk along the shore back in the direction that I'd started, towards Seaview. As I mentioned earlier Seaview is a bit of a walk, but not too far, so when I got there and had a sit down I looked at the map—Bembridge didn't look far, okay, turns out I was a tad wrong on that one.

Don't get me wrong, it was a beautiful coastal walk, a bit precarious when the tide came in and I had to hurdle a boulder field—it was fun though—I had a chat and a laugh with a small group doing the same in the opposite direction. 

It was a long way; for a stretch before Bembridge I was starting to regret the trip, in fairness I was five hours past my last stop, but then—I walked around the thousandth bend and the most beautiful sunset beach scene came in to view, and the entire excursion, not just the walk, became instantly worth it. I'll pop a photo here, it doesn't do the experience justice, but still gives a hint at its beauty.

The miracles kept coming, along the same stretch of beach, a solitary, stranded, set of stairs appeared up the cliffside, with a pub at the top! The Crab & Lobster Inn. My legs were filled with joy.

I dined outside in the pub garden, with a view over the sea, a wonderful spot for chilling with a pint. I asked for a local dark beer, I can't remember the name, but it was nice. For food I had Scampi and Chips, nothing fancy, but it was well cooked, delicious, and just what I needed in the moment. 

I didn't see the inside as there was outside serving, which is a plus on such a beautiful day, so my insight is limited to the garden and food. The waitress was nice enough, clumsy a smidge, which the broken glass skimming across the car park could attest too, but otherwise lovely.

Once I'd taken a much needed break, I looked at the map once again in slight horror—until I found a nearby bus stop. You know how I said the buses are your friend on the Isle, case in point! I don't think I've ever been so happy to see a bus, especially one that stops outside my accommodation.

Needless to say, I slept very well after what was roughly nine hours of walking.

I was going to cover the entire trip in the one post, but I'm a high word count in already with a day to go, so I'll take a pause. I hope this has intrigued you enough to come back for part two, and consider a trip.

See you on the next post, we're taking a trip to Sandown!