That's what it is.
And I thought I'd spend it at the most beautiful, scenic place on the island that I know of.
So here I am, at home, sunning myself on the lawn at Hermitage Court Farm.
I took a morning stroll over the downs and down to Niton, to visit the village post-office, the village store, the village pharmacy, and the village doctor who stuck a needle in my rump .. my first anti-hayfever jab since New Zealand, and as of this moment a necessity!
When all that visiting was done, it was 12.30pm, so it seemed logical to visit the village pub. The White Lion is the sort of cheerful village pub I'd been bemoaning -- and here it is, right on my downs-step. The blackboard advertises steak and stilton pudding and there's a five-pounds senior citizens' full lunch available, but I settled for a cold Guinness (of course) and a chicken sandwich. I got a bulging, man-sized 'sarnie' -- what we used to call a doorstep -- butchly squeezing man-sized chunks of lettuce and tomato all but off the plate. The contrast with yesterday's elegant little black-pudding salad was total. And the price only a little more. I sat in the beer garden in the sunshine, and did justice to plate and glass.
Then it was up Bury Lane (now all nice and dry, but still nettly), a quick snap of 'home' across the bright and bristling downs (if you look hard you can just see Red Fred, tanning his bumpers in the farm's carpark) and the day's exercise was all done. From here on in, its all leisure.