Felixstowe
After a few days at home we were ready to be on the move again and despite the drizzle and dark clouds we set off for the South East. Finally after 3 months of talking about it we were on our way and I would finally get to see Dover Castle… read on and learn the truth.
The whole area is Forestry Commission and the Oak trees form part of the thin curtain of natural trees and bushes hiding the acres of conifers. It’s always worth keeping alert and looking into the forest for Chinese Muntjac deer. A small animal released into the countryside in the early 20th century and which is thriving and even taking short trips into towns, a thoroughly modern deer with expanding shopping areas! this trip we didn’t meet any. Our camp that night was Area 61 - we had a very quiet night despite the, or probably because of, the very heavy rain!
I woke up about 4am and opened a window to listen to the Dawn chorus, and despite the drizzle the birds didn’t let me down. We had a Song Thrush close by repeating every phrase just in case we missed it the first time and Robins, Blackcaps, Yellowhammers along with a few others provided the accompaniment. What finally made me close the window was the Great Tit who came out in competition and took over the extravagansa with his two tone ‘teacher teacher’ call.
By the time a more civilised hour had arrived it was dry and we managed to get a stroll along the forest ride. It’s a favourite area for dog walkers and we met a few over the time we were there. The ride was very wide with lots of wild plants fighting for space with the nettles and brambles. I did notice a spiky plant with small green flowers, and green flowers are unusual, so I just had to identify it. It turned out to be Weld - one of the oldest plants used for dying silk and wool as well as being used for the pigment in paint. The flowers, when prepared produce yellow dye.
It started to rain again so we moved out to the coast, Dunwich. There is nothing here except pebbles and a few houses but I like to get to the beach and try to visualise the town before the sea reclaimed it. The beach is all pebbles and is regularly banked up into a huge sea defence. I find it very difficult to believe that the town once boasted 3000 inhabitants and I can’t find even a piece of sea washed brick on the beach. The rot set in in 1328 when a massive storm blocked the harbour and the town never recovered with the sea encroaching bit by bit each year. Surely there should be something to show for it but all I can find are the pebbles making up the sea defence.
It was here in Dunwich that Pat decided he didn’t like his new glasses so he picked an argument with the pavement and in round one he head butted the tarmac and lost breaking his glasses in the meantime.
Thankfully we had a spare pair in the van and was able to continue our journey but agreed there and then that Dover was still an unmentionable word and would leave the visit until later, like next decade!
The Museum of Dunwich had just closed so we headed for Aldeburgh. We thought we’d ‘done’ Aldeburgh last year but if you keep your eyes open it’s amazing just how much you miss first visit. They’ve painted the town, literally, all freshly whitewashed cottages with some pink and blue ones in the mix. The whole place looked clean and refreshed ready for the onslaught of summer visitors. This time we both noticed a lovely row of cottages and the middle one was called ‘The Old Custom House’. What was intriguing was the steps leading to the front door, look how the bottom of the door is below the top of the bottom window and the top of door is above the bottom of the top window (try saying that when you’ve had a few). We couldn’t work out where the first floor was. It reminded us of the fishermans cottages we had seen in Scotland, where the staircases to the living quarters are on the outside of the building and the ground floor is where the nets and other fishing paraphernalia were kept. But, it didn’t seem to fit this case. I haven’t been able to find anything out about the house so next visit will definitely include the local museum.
I had to have my obligatory walk along the shore, pebbles, pebbles and yet more pebbles and this must be the best place in the country for finding Hag stones (Stones with a natural hole in them). I don’t think I ever went on the beach without finding at least one. Some of them are quite small and I’m going to tumble polish them to see if they will make necklaces.
We arranged to meet Bharat (met him last October) at Felixstowe on Saturday which meant that we’d got all day to photograph Aldeburgh. It was cool and windy but thankfully dry and sunny, almost perfect Kite Aerial Photography weather. We took 125 pictures of the old windmill and got 2 decent ones and then Pat let me loose with it over some boats pulled up onto the shingle. I hate to admit it but I missed them every time and in frustration he took the Kite back and managed to salvage the shoot by getting the whole boat in the picture!
We crept up on a woman who was obviously an artist and initiated a conversation so that we could check out her work. She was painting a scene down the beach which included some sea and shingle and a row of the pastel coloured cottages. It looked a very messy business and it turned out that she was using oil pastels, something I’d not seen before, but looking at the state of her hands I don’t think it would be a good medium for carrying with us, a pencil and pad are much cleaner.
The fishermen had just returned with their catch and were selling fresh fish and crabs from their huts on the beach, not being a great cook it’s something I always miss out on.
We put Bharat’s address into Mary Lou (Sat Nav) and she got terribly confused. Felixstowe is only 5 miles as the crow flies, but nearer 25 by road, you see, the ferry across the Deben estuary is foot passengers only but Mary Lou doesn’t know this and for the first 12 miles she keeps telling us to ‘Turn around when possible’, she has the patience of a saint and never gets cross!
I didn’t realise that Bharat’s house was only 400 yards from the sea front and I just had to have a quick look. It was just the same as the rest of the coastline down here, pebbles, and I couldn’t believe my luck - I had to actually walk on the beach if only for a few feet and I looked down and found a lovely Hag stone. This one’s got to be lucky, I was obviously meant to find it.
We had a lovely lazy day eating, drinking and chatting and generally putting our world to rights and I had my first Indian cooking lesson. Now I’m the proud owner of a tin full of spices and I’m going to increase the number of meals I can cook to 3 - yes I know it’s a lot for me but now I’m retired I’ve got plenty of time.
Bharat has a Vdub (VW) camper van, the 60’s surfers kind which is now a cult vehicle, Pat really, really wants one , a Vdub that is not a surfboard. Anyway, we all ended up back at Bawdsey Quay for the evening and I was quite jealous of a family (also in a Vdub) who dug a pit in the sand and lit a bonfire out of the wind, why didn’t I think of that? It was lovely to see the flames flickering in the dusk and next morning there wasn’t a trace of it.
I had to get talking to them and it turned out that they lit the fire to help keep the two kids warm (no heating in their van and also to cook the supper because the gas was low. I didn’t care, no excuse is needed and I really am going to have my beach fire later this year, probably on a Northumbrian beach. I could almost want a Vdub myself for this kind of image, the sixties hippy sort but I’d want a surf board as well.
As the sun went down that night over the estuary and moored boats, a 3 day old moon slowly sank towards the horizon to sit beside Venus and accompany her on her journey through the underworld. The scene always puts me in mind of a fairy sitting on the bottom of the crescent moon swinging her legs and trying to catch Venus with a fishing rod - fanciful I know but I’m allowed now.
Next morning we parted company with Bharat and decided to explore a few of the villages and towns. Wickham Market sounded nice and old and so it was, a car park in the centre with a few shops around the square. It was more a large village than a town and the only wool shop was closed much to Pat’s relief. The All Saints Church was pretty and had an Octagonal tower and perched on top, a spire with a lead roof. I would have loved to have seen inside but Sunday mornings are not the time to go sightseeing.
We moved on to Tunstall Forest and it was a delightful drive. There were some lovely places to stop and picnic and we found a deserted grassy area next to one of those built up square reservoirs where we could laze away the afternoon. It was sunny, hot and gorgeous and I sat spinning silk while Pat sat contemplating, I never did find out what it was he was contemplating.
We visited Leiston Abbey again next day and this time the thatched roof was finished. They look so fresh and neat when new and I love the detail in the finish on the apex. They always seem to put a pattern in and take great pride in their craft.
We looked carefully at the remaining walls and tried to imagine how magnificent it must have looked. Even now the pattern in the main walls can be seen by the different brick and stonework. The outside walls were also patterned by using rows of the rounded pebbles (found on the beach by the bucketful) in between rows of bricks making a huge canvas of squares in different textures as well as colours.
Moving from Christianity to Aldeburgh I found a Bhudda statue in a charity shop and decided it would look good in the garden peeping out from the bushes. I like the little fat Bhudda’s they always make me feel happy and the one I bought this trip, a more traditional one sitting in the lotus position radiates calmness and peace and will keep me smiling every time I see it.
Later in the evening the sun came out and we got a stroll along the beach. It’s amazing this holiday because every time we’ve put a foot on the beach either myself or Pat has found a Hag stone, I don’t know what I’m going to do with them but I reckon they’ll look good in wall hangings and the smaller ones might polish and make necklaces.
Next day was lovely and we moved Northwards towards Thorpeness, home of the House in the Clouds. A walk on the beach, another Hag stone, some unidentified plants and a wander around the lake in the centre of the village was all so peaceful, until the Swans decided to come and attack me for the bread I was carrying. They were bully boys and thought nothing of waddling right up to you and snatching the bread out of your hands and there were about 35 of them on the lake. The bills have a kind of serrated edge to them and they always try to eat your fingers no matter how big the piece of the bread and if you’re not careful they can draw blood. We were on bought bread and got rid of all the thick crusts (saves on landfill).
I was main map reader and today, just to prove I’m as good as if not better than Betty (Sat Nav) I found a dead end road that just had to be investigated. I turned Pat off the main road too soon and we found ourselves following a reasonable tarmac road that soon became single track only, eventually turning into a very dusty farm track. Just as we were wondering how to turn round a lady walking her dog pulled into the side to let us pass. She burst out laughing at my ’I think I’ve got him lost’ statement but did explain that if we continued to the pink house and turned left we would reach the end of the road - Sizewell Nuclear Power Station. We’ve been before by a different route, but decided to trust her and carried on. We got to the pink house and both burst out laughing, it was just too silly for words, we were in a field! It was all tractor ruts and trails, but she was right and even though it was a bit sandy we did get through. Pat is more careful of my shortcuts now and we returned to the village by the more usual route.
At Sizewell beach, where there is a good car park, refreshments and toilets we flew all the kites (Pat has decreed that when we get home anything we haven’t used is to be taken out) but didn’t get the camera aloft due to light wind conditions.
It was very relaxing and I found a nice grassy spot, laid down and proceeded to entice a kite up to a great height, it’s very therapeutic and you do have to be careful not to nod off! With a legal limit of only 190 feet I didn’t get to the Cirrus cloud band (20,000 feet) where it was obviously quite windy because of the wispy tails dragging behind.
Our last stop of the expedition was to be Thetford Forest where we visited Grimes Graves. It’s a fascinating area of humps and hollows created by Neolithic flint miners. It was first excavated in 1913 and opened to the public in 1931. To make flint instruments like hand axes, arrowheads and such like the flint needs to be of a good quality. Flint found on the surface which has been weathered does not split easily but flint still in situ underground is much easier to work. So the miners dug circular pits approximately 20 feet in diameter, down through the chalk until they hit a layer of flint, they then mined the flint making low narrow passages for a few feet all radiating out from the main pit. When the flint had been exhausted a new pit was started and the spoil was used to fill in the old pit. There are over 200 pits in this area and Adders! but despite walking very quietly around the site we didn’t manage to see any.
We did take a trip down one of the holes (it really can’t be called a mine) and you have wear a miners helmet (but no light) and instead of a lift down the shaft, it’s a steel ladder. Once down there it’s a bit boring to be honest and all you can do is crawl down the passageways to where it’s blocked off with a grill and back out again. I suppose it gives a feel for the cramped conditions they worked in and it makes you wonder how young some of them must have been when you see the size of some of the tunnels. It’s also mind boggling to think that it was all created using bone tools - we need a JCB nowadays to do our gardens.
This was the end of our trip and after one more peaceful night in the forest it was back to our motorway mansion in the midlands to get ready for the trip North and oh boy are we looking forward to that.
After a pow wow we agreed that if we were going to take this travelling seriously we had got to learn to survive rain and now was as good a time as any. The first day was wet but we spent it travelling to Thetford Forest. It’s a lovely green part of the country and the lane we chose through the forest, made me think of the driveway to one of those Victorian Mansions. It was lined with beautiful Oak trees, all fully mature and in fantastic condition. The rain had washed all traces of dust and dirt away and the leaves shone against the black of the branches and trunks as though they had been individually polished. The canopy didn’t quite meet over the road leaving a stretch of grey sky above. It probably sounds dull and miserable but the daylight looked as though it had been reflected onto the scene by one of those TV lighting crews and the green against the grey was vibrant.
The whole area is Forestry Commission and the Oak trees form part of the thin curtain of natural trees and bushes hiding the acres of conifers. It’s always worth keeping alert and looking into the forest for Chinese Muntjac deer. A small animal released into the countryside in the early 20th century and which is thriving and even taking short trips into towns, a thoroughly modern deer with expanding shopping areas! this trip we didn’t meet any. Our camp that night was Area 61 - we had a very quiet night despite the, or probably because of, the very heavy rain!
I woke up about 4am and opened a window to listen to the Dawn chorus, and despite the drizzle the birds didn’t let me down. We had a Song Thrush close by repeating every phrase just in case we missed it the first time and Robins, Blackcaps, Yellowhammers along with a few others provided the accompaniment. What finally made me close the window was the Great Tit who came out in competition and took over the extravagansa with his two tone ‘teacher teacher’ call.
By the time a more civilised hour had arrived it was dry and we managed to get a stroll along the forest ride. It’s a favourite area for dog walkers and we met a few over the time we were there. The ride was very wide with lots of wild plants fighting for space with the nettles and brambles. I did notice a spiky plant with small green flowers, and green flowers are unusual, so I just had to identify it. It turned out to be Weld - one of the oldest plants used for dying silk and wool as well as being used for the pigment in paint. The flowers, when prepared produce yellow dye.
It started to rain again so we moved out to the coast, Dunwich. There is nothing here except pebbles and a few houses but I like to get to the beach and try to visualise the town before the sea reclaimed it. The beach is all pebbles and is regularly banked up into a huge sea defence. I find it very difficult to believe that the town once boasted 3000 inhabitants and I can’t find even a piece of sea washed brick on the beach. The rot set in in 1328 when a massive storm blocked the harbour and the town never recovered with the sea encroaching bit by bit each year. Surely there should be something to show for it but all I can find are the pebbles making up the sea defence.
It was here in Dunwich that Pat decided he didn’t like his new glasses so he picked an argument with the pavement and in round one he head butted the tarmac and lost breaking his glasses in the meantime.
Thankfully we had a spare pair in the van and was able to continue our journey but agreed there and then that Dover was still an unmentionable word and would leave the visit until later, like next decade!
The Museum of Dunwich had just closed so we headed for Aldeburgh. We thought we’d ‘done’ Aldeburgh last year but if you keep your eyes open it’s amazing just how much you miss first visit. They’ve painted the town, literally, all freshly whitewashed cottages with some pink and blue ones in the mix. The whole place looked clean and refreshed ready for the onslaught of summer visitors. This time we both noticed a lovely row of cottages and the middle one was called ‘The Old Custom House’. What was intriguing was the steps leading to the front door, look how the bottom of the door is below the top of the bottom window and the top of door is above the bottom of the top window (try saying that when you’ve had a few). We couldn’t work out where the first floor was. It reminded us of the fishermans cottages we had seen in Scotland, where the staircases to the living quarters are on the outside of the building and the ground floor is where the nets and other fishing paraphernalia were kept. But, it didn’t seem to fit this case. I haven’t been able to find anything out about the house so next visit will definitely include the local museum.
I had to have my obligatory walk along the shore, pebbles, pebbles and yet more pebbles and this must be the best place in the country for finding Hag stones (Stones with a natural hole in them). I don’t think I ever went on the beach without finding at least one. Some of them are quite small and I’m going to tumble polish them to see if they will make necklaces.
We arranged to meet Bharat (met him last October) at Felixstowe on Saturday which meant that we’d got all day to photograph Aldeburgh. It was cool and windy but thankfully dry and sunny, almost perfect Kite Aerial Photography weather. We took 125 pictures of the old windmill and got 2 decent ones and then Pat let me loose with it over some boats pulled up onto the shingle. I hate to admit it but I missed them every time and in frustration he took the Kite back and managed to salvage the shoot by getting the whole boat in the picture!
We crept up on a woman who was obviously an artist and initiated a conversation so that we could check out her work. She was painting a scene down the beach which included some sea and shingle and a row of the pastel coloured cottages. It looked a very messy business and it turned out that she was using oil pastels, something I’d not seen before, but looking at the state of her hands I don’t think it would be a good medium for carrying with us, a pencil and pad are much cleaner.
The fishermen had just returned with their catch and were selling fresh fish and crabs from their huts on the beach, not being a great cook it’s something I always miss out on.
We put Bharat’s address into Mary Lou (Sat Nav) and she got terribly confused. Felixstowe is only 5 miles as the crow flies, but nearer 25 by road, you see, the ferry across the Deben estuary is foot passengers only but Mary Lou doesn’t know this and for the first 12 miles she keeps telling us to ‘Turn around when possible’, she has the patience of a saint and never gets cross!
I didn’t realise that Bharat’s house was only 400 yards from the sea front and I just had to have a quick look. It was just the same as the rest of the coastline down here, pebbles, and I couldn’t believe my luck - I had to actually walk on the beach if only for a few feet and I looked down and found a lovely Hag stone. This one’s got to be lucky, I was obviously meant to find it.
We had a lovely lazy day eating, drinking and chatting and generally putting our world to rights and I had my first Indian cooking lesson. Now I’m the proud owner of a tin full of spices and I’m going to increase the number of meals I can cook to 3 - yes I know it’s a lot for me but now I’m retired I’ve got plenty of time.
Bharat has a Vdub (VW) camper van, the 60’s surfers kind which is now a cult vehicle, Pat really, really wants one , a Vdub that is not a surfboard. Anyway, we all ended up back at Bawdsey Quay for the evening and I was quite jealous of a family (also in a Vdub) who dug a pit in the sand and lit a bonfire out of the wind, why didn’t I think of that? It was lovely to see the flames flickering in the dusk and next morning there wasn’t a trace of it.
I had to get talking to them and it turned out that they lit the fire to help keep the two kids warm (no heating in their van and also to cook the supper because the gas was low. I didn’t care, no excuse is needed and I really am going to have my beach fire later this year, probably on a Northumbrian beach. I could almost want a Vdub myself for this kind of image, the sixties hippy sort but I’d want a surf board as well.
As the sun went down that night over the estuary and moored boats, a 3 day old moon slowly sank towards the horizon to sit beside Venus and accompany her on her journey through the underworld. The scene always puts me in mind of a fairy sitting on the bottom of the crescent moon swinging her legs and trying to catch Venus with a fishing rod - fanciful I know but I’m allowed now.
Next morning we parted company with Bharat and decided to explore a few of the villages and towns. Wickham Market sounded nice and old and so it was, a car park in the centre with a few shops around the square. It was more a large village than a town and the only wool shop was closed much to Pat’s relief. The All Saints Church was pretty and had an Octagonal tower and perched on top, a spire with a lead roof. I would have loved to have seen inside but Sunday mornings are not the time to go sightseeing.
We moved on to Tunstall Forest and it was a delightful drive. There were some lovely places to stop and picnic and we found a deserted grassy area next to one of those built up square reservoirs where we could laze away the afternoon. It was sunny, hot and gorgeous and I sat spinning silk while Pat sat contemplating, I never did find out what it was he was contemplating.
We visited Leiston Abbey again next day and this time the thatched roof was finished. They look so fresh and neat when new and I love the detail in the finish on the apex. They always seem to put a pattern in and take great pride in their craft.
We looked carefully at the remaining walls and tried to imagine how magnificent it must have looked. Even now the pattern in the main walls can be seen by the different brick and stonework. The outside walls were also patterned by using rows of the rounded pebbles (found on the beach by the bucketful) in between rows of bricks making a huge canvas of squares in different textures as well as colours.
Moving from Christianity to Aldeburgh I found a Bhudda statue in a charity shop and decided it would look good in the garden peeping out from the bushes. I like the little fat Bhudda’s they always make me feel happy and the one I bought this trip, a more traditional one sitting in the lotus position radiates calmness and peace and will keep me smiling every time I see it.
Later in the evening the sun came out and we got a stroll along the beach. It’s amazing this holiday because every time we’ve put a foot on the beach either myself or Pat has found a Hag stone, I don’t know what I’m going to do with them but I reckon they’ll look good in wall hangings and the smaller ones might polish and make necklaces.
Next day was lovely and we moved Northwards towards Thorpeness, home of the House in the Clouds. A walk on the beach, another Hag stone, some unidentified plants and a wander around the lake in the centre of the village was all so peaceful, until the Swans decided to come and attack me for the bread I was carrying. They were bully boys and thought nothing of waddling right up to you and snatching the bread out of your hands and there were about 35 of them on the lake. The bills have a kind of serrated edge to them and they always try to eat your fingers no matter how big the piece of the bread and if you’re not careful they can draw blood. We were on bought bread and got rid of all the thick crusts (saves on landfill).
I was main map reader and today, just to prove I’m as good as if not better than Betty (Sat Nav) I found a dead end road that just had to be investigated. I turned Pat off the main road too soon and we found ourselves following a reasonable tarmac road that soon became single track only, eventually turning into a very dusty farm track. Just as we were wondering how to turn round a lady walking her dog pulled into the side to let us pass. She burst out laughing at my ’I think I’ve got him lost’ statement but did explain that if we continued to the pink house and turned left we would reach the end of the road - Sizewell Nuclear Power Station. We’ve been before by a different route, but decided to trust her and carried on. We got to the pink house and both burst out laughing, it was just too silly for words, we were in a field! It was all tractor ruts and trails, but she was right and even though it was a bit sandy we did get through. Pat is more careful of my shortcuts now and we returned to the village by the more usual route.
At Sizewell beach, where there is a good car park, refreshments and toilets we flew all the kites (Pat has decreed that when we get home anything we haven’t used is to be taken out) but didn’t get the camera aloft due to light wind conditions.
It was very relaxing and I found a nice grassy spot, laid down and proceeded to entice a kite up to a great height, it’s very therapeutic and you do have to be careful not to nod off! With a legal limit of only 190 feet I didn’t get to the Cirrus cloud band (20,000 feet) where it was obviously quite windy because of the wispy tails dragging behind.
Our last stop of the expedition was to be Thetford Forest where we visited Grimes Graves. It’s a fascinating area of humps and hollows created by Neolithic flint miners. It was first excavated in 1913 and opened to the public in 1931. To make flint instruments like hand axes, arrowheads and such like the flint needs to be of a good quality. Flint found on the surface which has been weathered does not split easily but flint still in situ underground is much easier to work. So the miners dug circular pits approximately 20 feet in diameter, down through the chalk until they hit a layer of flint, they then mined the flint making low narrow passages for a few feet all radiating out from the main pit. When the flint had been exhausted a new pit was started and the spoil was used to fill in the old pit. There are over 200 pits in this area and Adders! but despite walking very quietly around the site we didn’t manage to see any.
We did take a trip down one of the holes (it really can’t be called a mine) and you have wear a miners helmet (but no light) and instead of a lift down the shaft, it’s a steel ladder. Once down there it’s a bit boring to be honest and all you can do is crawl down the passageways to where it’s blocked off with a grill and back out again. I suppose it gives a feel for the cramped conditions they worked in and it makes you wonder how young some of them must have been when you see the size of some of the tunnels. It’s also mind boggling to think that it was all created using bone tools - we need a JCB nowadays to do our gardens.
This was the end of our trip and after one more peaceful night in the forest it was back to our motorway mansion in the midlands to get ready for the trip North and oh boy are we looking forward to that.
posted by Marilyn | 7.6.07
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