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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