Stephanie Black has a 'Robyn Hitchcock unofficial tour' December 2nd, 1998


From Texas to Compton

One of Isle of Wight Rock's friends from Austin, Texas came to visit back in December. Stephanie Black is a long time Robyn Hitchcock fan and through the expertise of our traffic controller and Southern Vectis expert Vic King I was able to organise Stephanie a Robyn Hitchcock day on the Isle of Wight.

Stephanie had left Austin, Texas a couple of days after the annual South by Southwest festival bash in March. She had been at the performances of Robyn Hitchcock there which had included one of the first, if not the first showing of Jonathon Demme's Storefront Hitchcock film. (See pictures taken in Austin, 1998)



By the powers of email, and what a boon these cyberwires are to Isle of Wight Rock, even Vic is clearing a space in his pigeon loft to join the space race, I digress, by the powers of email Stephanie contacted me from somewhere in Europe, Paris I think. 'Any Robyn Hithcock gigs on the Isle of Wight?' she wanted to know. None I could find or in London either and she continued on down through the South of France.

It was an extraordinary tour of Europe for our Texan friend. 52 cities visited as far east as Budapest and quite a few rolls of camera film lost or stolen. And somewhere between Cowes and Compton, Yarmouth or Newport, Isle of Wight Rock lost another for her. Red faces, or my red face and still it can't be found, and the only surviving pictures of the Isle of Wight are here on this page. So if any one finds a green Canon camera case and two rolls of film in black containers Isle of Wight Rock and Stephanie will breathe a huge sigh of relief.

And if this sounds like Stephanie Black is an oil rich Texan, forget it. This enterprising lady saved for six years on her American Airlines credit card. Buying all her books and burgers on that card till she had enough airmiles to make the trip. All I can add is that those University of Texas girls have got some style. And how.

Stephanie lost connection with Isle of Wight Rock when her Montreux cybercafe was closed for refurbishment and only got our message about Robyn Hithcock gigging at London's Queen Elizabeth Hall the night before. One hurried email and a day later she was in London (courtesy Easyjet Geneva to Luton £58 . . .) and on Wednesday, December 2nd Stephanie and I took Vic King's guided bus tour of sites relevant to Robyn Hitchcock.

Now I think that is kind of daft to wait 100 hundred years after a poet's death to visit the places he frequented. What if the local council get a scheme up and turn Compton into a an old people's home with sea views? So best do it while the stuff is still around.

So an early hydrofoil to the Island from Southampton and two Southern Vectis Rover tickets later and we headed from Cowes to Newport, then Newport to Ventnor. All the buses clicking like clockwork, time for a walk along the windy Ventnor seafront to see the Spyglass Inn, no Hitchcock connection here but a good pub nonetheless.

Then on, just up the road west of Ventnor to St. Lawrence. A long walk down to the site that was to inspire Robyn Hitchcock's Glass Hotel story. The weather was perfect, a crisp, fresh morning. The Old Park Hotel, which would inspired the imagination of Robyn Hitchcock in October 1987 to write his engaging ripping yarn, the Glass Hotel, the Hotel is at the bottom of a long winding lane which opens onto the green grassy fields that go right to the cliffs and the sea.

Stephanie's eyes opened wide as we walked around outside taking in the old ornate hotel that had once been overgrown by climbing ivy and moss to be rescued by the current owner, Robyn Thornton's father. It was closed, as Vic King had already checked but luck was at hand. A young gardener, Dave Wells I think said the bar was open for a private function, a local Rotary meeting or something. We tried our luck.

After explaining to the barman what a young lady from Texas was doing here in the South of our Diamond Wight Island we had coffee and sat out of the way of the Rotary meeting. We thanked our gardener for the tipoff as he took his morning coffee break in the bar. He became fascinated when he heard Stephanie was from Texas and it turned out that he was an avid fan of Texas Tornadoes. 'Have you seen any?' he asked as we invited him to pull up a chair. 'The only tornadoes I've seen were on a football pitch,' laughed Stephanie but proceeded to detail some facets of Texas for our wide eyed visitor to our coffee table.

As Robyn Hitchcock has told the story it was here, on such a morning, that he stopped with a friend for coffee. Today Stephanie is taking it all in and itching to take a picture. She walks around the side of the bar and takes some snaps which alerts one of the gentleman with the Rotary asking why she might want to shoot some pictures. Stephanie explains her fascination with being here and the gentleman smiles warmly and wishes her well.

The two hours we might have had to wait for the next bus has gone in a flash. Just time to stand in the Gothic hall of this hotel. Time to visit the Glass Works next door and buy something to take back to Texas. Then another long walk up to the bus stop, up through the 'tangled trees and undergrowth' of Robyn Hitchcock's story.

The bus, again, spot on time and we are headed due West through the beautiful twisting roads of the Undercliffe under whose cliff are dotted all kinds of dwellings amongst the trees. A turn down to the Buddle Inn where Robyn Hitchcock's original walk had started to the Old Park Hotel in 1987, the day after the great storms that October.

Then the steep climb up the hill and the drop into Isle of Wight Rock's official home the sleepy village of Niton, a village that sits so quietly like an Agatha Christie story about to burst. Through Niton still headed West up the long slow climb that will bring us first to Blackgang Chine where the bus turns into the theme park which hangs on the edge of the cliff where the smugglers must have enticed masted schooners aground. The pirate stands here like that massive effigy of Paul Bunyon that features strongly in the Cohen Brother's Fargo film.

From here the last climb and drop into Chale with the Military Road stretching all the way West to Freshwater. The weather today on the south of the Wight is slightly hazy and Compton and Freshwater are not as crystal clear as they can be on a Summer's day.

We climb off at Compton with the bus driver still shaking his head. It is blowing a hooley and there won't be a bus along for another hour and half. It is Winter service after all.

And it will be no good mentioning Robyn Hitchcock to the bus driver, probably the only bus driver in tune with Hitchcock is Keith Gore and he's migrated back to Sheffield until Spring turns the corner.

Compton was breathtaking. I've been coming here since a boy and since that first time when Vic King and I stood in the Joiner's in Southampton when this bloke called Robyn Hitchcock who we'd come to see because of the Glass Hotel story, well since that bloke with the guitar said 'This song is dedicated to Compton Beach' and we fell flat over, since then we've been coming back here with the song in our heads.

Never more so than in 1996 when Keith Gore drove the bus and Robyn Hitchcock sang Airscape where it was written, right there in the car park above that beautiful beach. And if you were there you''know just how special that day was.

We have a clear day today down here, down here on the beach we are sheltered from the wind that rips along the cliff path. There a handful of people down here, some people walking dogs. One old gent, military chap, smiles and comments, and we encounter the local dinosaur expert with a couple recording some sort of interview.

We ask him to take our picture, to capture Compton in all its tide out, rocks and sand best with that view all the way to Tennyson's Freshwater. He obliges and then points down to a rock which he shows has the footprint of a three toed dinosaur. I gasp. I've been on this beach all my life and never seen it before. The guy is here to guard the dinosaur relics from the Indiana Jones wannabes who come down to steal them.

Stephanie engages the three of them offering up Robyn Hitchcock's Element of Light CD with the Airscape song on. She takes their pad and writes down the details for them. Suddenly our teacher on this beach are being taught something they didn't know about his beach.

Like what the Thimble rock was for. I fancied it might have been for the Cormorants to perch on but it was in fact used as a directional device for cannon fire from the cliff so that you weren't pissing in the wind as it were . . .

And the boat down there along the beach, rusting slowly into nothing is the Comar, think I spelt that right beached in 1947, details of which can be found in Ken Mews hardy annual of Isle of Wight shipwrecks and smuggling, Back of the Wight.

Stephanie and I couldn't stand here today on Compton without Robyn Hitchcock's Airscape blowing in our faces. The sun glinting on the rocks, everything about this beach is captured so beautifully by that song. The man's a genius.

After an hour and a half on Compton beach we came up to the bus stop again where a trusty Southern Vectis green double decker swung into view along the Miltary Road. We climbed aboard and there was Vic King with a smile a mile wide as he greeted his first Texan visitor to the Isle of Wight.

The bus continued along the precarious cliff hugging Military Road which may, one day, just fall into the sea. Out of view but just across from the golf course we came by was Afton site of the 1970 festival and behind us that magnificent view that stretches from Compton back along the South Wight.

That steady drop down into Freshwater Bay, still almost as unspoilt as it was in Tennyson's time save for the ice cream and café. And just behind it across the green is Dimbola Lodge. Once the home of Juliet Margaret Cameron who photographed Tennyson and sold copies to Lewis Carroll and worked away in a chicken run in the backgarden. Charlton Heston and his wife came here as the photograph delightfully shows at the Lodge. That wound the locals up, well the ones who write aimless letters to the County Press that is. How dare an American come and give money to support the upkeep of Dimbola Lodge? Damn glad they did, somebody has to get off their arse and do something.

So if you are in Freshwater take in Dimbola Lodge because they run without any of that fancy Lottery money which has been thrown around the Island of late, the stuff that has seen jumped up so called artists from across the water being feted rather than putting the money into where it really belongs amongst the people. You will get a fine cup of tea, mince pies in season and lunches there and for our American friends it will be an absolute delight and no further proof will be needed that the English are truly eccentric. There is a whole collection of ancient cameras on show and of course a whole house of Juliet Margaret Cameron's very special works.

So Stephanie, Vic and I sat down and enjoyed the afternoon sun pouring through the window and had mince pie and tea. Does life get any better than this. It was a none too short break as we had to get on. It would have been about 3.30 by now and we took the bus to Yarmouth. Delightfully for Stephanie we took the roundabout route through the local Freshwater schools where we were invaded by piles of schoolchildren at wahoooo level because school was out. Throughout Stephanie had been feeding me one liners to curl me up and she had one about the kids but I've forgotten it.

Before 4pm we were in Yarmouth the last stop on the Robyn Hitchcock unofficial bus tour. We showed Stephanie the places mentioned on the cover of Robyn Hitchcock's Respect. The café's and pubs and visited the Church which is depicted on the cover. Finally just like a Hitchcock song the sun really did start to set at 4pm or just after. We had retired to Gossips for more tea and cake and watched the night close in on this Winter's afternoon out of the window over the sea.

It was quite a day and somewhere in our travels I managed to put down Stephanies rolls of films and to this day, hunting high and low, returning to the places past Compton where we changed the film, phone calls to the local police station and bus lost properties has failed to turn up the film. So regretfully these few pictures are all that are left of a very special day for we crazy ones at Isle of Wight Rock. But if you see a Canon Camera case and you find those two rolls of film in black containers we'd be real pleased to see them. So would Stephanie. Next time we won't be so careless.

And a bizzare coincidence about that week? The County Press carried a poem called 'Hitchcock at the Needles' It was however someone conjuring up Alfred Hitchcock exploding shells at the Battery. It was where Robyn H had originally wanted to play that great day of the bus gig but the weather determined otherwise. I laughed my socks off reading that.

Thanks Stephanie for coming to the Isle of Wight, we look forward to seeing you again soon.

Mike Plumbley