Saturday, 29 July 2017

Day Thirty: beaches and love

I have finally hit the big three-oh. I have lived in London for basically a whole month and I am extremely sad that I only have two weeks left. I wasn’t sure if I would like England or not, before I arrived, but now I just want to stay! Every time I go somewhere outside of London, I fall in love with it and I think that it (the new place) is the best part of England, and the place that, if I stayed longer, I would want to live in. But then I go back to London, and it’s like I’m going home, and I realise that I really wouldn’t be able to pick a favourite place. That’s what I’m sure I’ll feel tomorrow when I get back to London but, for the time being, I adore this tiny little village with one shop and endless walks.

Today we went to Felixstowe, by the seaside. It’s about a fifteen-minute drive (and I could easily be lying because I was talking the whole way and was paying no attention to the time!) I can’t for the life of me remember what the little beach barrier things are called, but they are probably the most prominent feature of the landscape. We studied them in Geo class in form Four, and they are designed to stop the tidal action from destroying the beach. Anyway, the result is that you can’t walk along the beach because it is divided up by wooden barriers every thirty-or-so metres. This isn’t a problem, though, because, being England, there is a long perfectly-placed concrete walk-way slithering along the coast line for as long as the eye can see. It wends its way like a great grey snake, glinting in the bright sunlight. The sun shines differently on the sea; it is harsher, stronger, more powerful. I think maybe when confronted with the enormity of the ocean, it feels the need to prove that it is older, and wiser, and more. More what? I think when you begin discussing eternal entities like the sun and the ocean, there is a “more” which us puny humans can’t comprehend!

We rode on the snake’s back all the way to a Martello Tower. Brian showed me an encyclopedia entry about the towers before we left, and if I remember correctly the towers are look-outs dotted along the coast from the Second World War. They are based on an old design used in France, I think, for the same purpose. Really, they look like the fat, insolent cousins of fairy-tale castle turrets! This one was certainly imposing and impressive, squatting heavily on the links golf course. Its two boarded up windows stared unblinkingly at the waves, daring them to come any closer. This could have been the reason the tower also seemed rather belligerently proud: the waves have never been able to follow through with their threat – each day they come close, just the other side of the pathway, but they falter at their pinnacle, frightened. Just when they seem most dangerous, they fade away and the tower heaves a sigh of relief and sits up straight, pretending it was never worried.

Brightly painted beach huts loll about above the walkway, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the horizon. They don’t seem to mind the huge container-ships that dominate the skyline. Some of them do, however, look a little lonely. Though they are so beautiful, their souls are quiet without the chatter of people sitting inside. There are hundreds of huts like this along the shore, but only a few of them were occupied while we were there. I know people are busy, but if I owned a beach hut, I would be there every day! It’s the ideal spot to have sundowners! Not all of them were pining for their humans though; quite a few families had opened up the doors and were enjoying the lovely day! Each hut has a number and some of the them have names: my favourite was “Reasons to be happy Number 923”.

The beaches, as I may have mentioned are pebbly beaches. It took all my mental strength to force myself not to collect every single gorgeous pebble! We had ice cream and sat on the beach to eat it. My hands – when they weren’t busy holding the ice cream cone - found themselves caressing the little rocks. They are so smooth and stroke-able! I couldn’t resist some of them, and so I will be carrying rocks back with me to Zimbabwe! Jules and I splashed around a little bit in the cold water. It wasn’t freezing, and there were some people swimming, but I most certainly was not going to venture any further than knee-high! Even so, the waves were a little cheeky, and one splashed my shorts! I chose salted caramel ice cream, by the way, which was on a par for deliciousness with the Berries and Clotted Cream ice cream from Hyde Park.

We went home for a lovely lunch. I think I have eaten more this weekend than I have in a long time! It’s not that we ate badly, or ate a whole lot, it’s just that I’ve realised I don’t eat very much interesting food when I’m by myself! The best bit of lunch was Jules’ three bean salad, which was delectable. I met Brian’s sister after an afternoon rest, and then we went for a walk in the gentle rain. I was able to use my new umbrella for the first time, and though I doubt it will last very long (it is a cheap umbrella!), I love it! It has flowers on it!

We had a fabulous supper, with crispy sausages, Brian’s roast potatoes, and a fantastic cheese sauce veggie dish. We also had gem squash from the garden! And then there was Jules’ delicious apple crumble – with ice cream and honey yoghurt, of course – for pudding. She very kindly packed about half of it into a container for me to take home. I can’t decide if I should ration it out and keep it going for the next week, or if I should just be a little piggy and eat it all when I get home tomorrow.

All in all, it was a warm and wonderful day and I don’t want to go home!

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