Aldeburgh, Relax, and Repeat
Here’s hoping your extended weekend was all you hoped it would be. Who doesn’t enjoy the second bank holiday of the year? I’m not a fan of chocolate eggs, so temptation doesn’t kick in although I’m always left with the notion that holiday breakfast means the sizzle of bacon, unhealthy white doorstep bread and far too much supermarket tomato ketchup. Fortunately, I managed to overcome that overwhelming urge to become a closet bacon sandwich aficionado once again. Time to bring on the silky white poached eggs and rocket. So much more sophisticated, a lot more attractive and healthier, too. If only it smelled like bacon sizzling. And right on cue, the email from Hotel Chocolat just flashed in the bottom right-hand corner of my screen. Didn’t I say I wasn’t a fan? Surely these bots need to get better at reading.
We had a relaxing trip to our favourite spot in Suffolk and once again Aldeburgh didn’t disappoint. Clearly the car journey between Sussex and Suffolk was impacted by Easter getaway traffic, roadworks on the A12 (again) and the rain. Undeterred, the moment we turned onto the road to Aldeburgh from the A12, I felt the clouds lift. Just as they did the first time I embarked on this pilgrimage. Recommended by a colleague in the late late-70s, the roads between my home in South London and that very same turnoff were a real disappointment. Had my HRD duped me into taking this trip? What would be the outcome? Little did I know then that the charm of Aldeburgh would call me back time and time again. Seagulls et al.
The wellie clad toddler fairies were out in full force, along with the lockdown puppies now grown into dogs with poor habits, and ill-matched families who felt obliged to recreate past holidays. Our favourite hotel on the seafront was just as inviting as ever and was eagerly preparing for the busiest weekend of the year. Visitors scrutinized chip shop opening hours with absolute precision and impatient drivers became kerb-crawlers, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting local residents vacating their parking spaces. Yes, this was Aldeburgh High Street at its best.
The hotel was busy and comfortable save for the large groups of families trying hard to celebrate together often with little in common. Oh, the joy of family life. Sitting quietly knitting and drinking tea while my husband enjoyed the newspapers, we became engulfed by others intent on moving the furniture and sitting together. Loud ladies doing coffee, pets disrupting and gentlemen snoring … simply fabulous to be a part of this staging.
There were sisters who tried hard to create harmony as the matriarch issued orders about the placement of cushions, the brightness of the sun in her eyes and the draught round her neck. A silk scarf appeared magically from nowhere to the yelps of, “don’t strangle me.” As if …? Yet all of this paled into insignificance when the sandwiches arrived. The prawns were dissected with precision to ensure everyone got a taste, just like the bill at the end of the service. Oh, if only I could write that book.
True to my reputation, I attracted a few single guests during our stay. A delightful (and recent) widow who loved my brightly coloured trousers and choice of knitting wool. It transpired we have similar shopping habits in Tunbridge Wells and my interest in her clearly sparked her sense of fun. It wasn’t long before another was asking for our destination, hotel and travel expertise. Not sure that I’m a qualified hospitality expert although I could be … there’s a thought. I was recently referred to as, “our very own Martha Stewart (aka Heather without the prison tag)” by a friend, so that’s testimonial, ticked!
We still haven’t moved house but this little jaunt to the seaside has certainly cheered our spirits and recharged my creative batteries. My newly refurbished website is almost ready, and this morning’s writing dalliance is absolutely displacement activity. Well, as much as I love that I’ve created my blog, I didn’t realise that on dialing up the website, I’d need to redo all of the hyperlinks. And that’s quite a tall order given the 77,000+ words I’ve written these past 5 years. Displacement activity, bring it on! Fancy a chat? Let’s Talk.
