Its been a few weeks since I last left off and we have spent them exploring South East England and London. Some notable highlights include walking through a claustrophobic tunnel under the river Thames, visiting the town where I was born, sipping champagne cocktails in Harrods and catching up with one of my best friends from home.
A few weeks ago we once again headed down to Reading station, jumped on a train, made our way through London and exited the other side – our destination the seaside town of Southwold located in the county of Suffolk.
Complete with quaint colourful beach huts, a thriving pier full of kids, fun machines and lolly shops and the essential fish and chip shops Southwold was a real experience in how the English “do” a successful seaside town. Comparable demographically to our own Brunswick Heads it was a great few days.
I say a successful seaside town because not all English seaside municipalities are doing so well. With the advent of cheap package holidays to warmer continental countries many former popular coastal holiday destinations are in steep decline. Their numerous hotel rooms now converted into cheap bedsits, the average income now significantly lower. Unlike Australia English coastal property is actually less sought after and cheaper than inland areas!
Which brings me to our next port of call – Clacton on Sea, home of my birth. Again travelling by train we left Southwold and after a quick detour to Colchester, former capital and apparently the “oldest town in England” we arrive on a typical blustery grey summers day. Once a gentrified thriving English coastal holiday destination, it is immediately very obvious that Clacton has now unfortunately suffered a serious decline in fortune. Making our way to our B&B which funny enough turns out to be 5 houses down from my grandfathers former home, we traverse rubbish strewn streets and pass numerous vagabonds.
Our time in Clacton is spent hunting down former abodes of my father and his family, visiting the hospital where I was born and visiting what sights Clacton still has to offer. Most notable is its huge fun-pier. Although what caught our attention more than anything was not in Clacton itself but rather out off its coast. Directly off the Essex coastline one can see the biggest wind farm. The sea literally full of hundreds of wind mills. It’s an amazing mesmerizing sight.
Leaving Clacton we made our way back into London where a very generous cousin has offered us her house for the week. Formerly a Bible printing factory the three-story conversion, located in a crazy, noisy Hackney Borough was an adventure in London living we wont forget for a while. With flamboyant Riddley Street market not far away, Turkish restaurants aplenty and noisy nights it was a real lesson in how young English Yuppies live. Obviously the best benefit offered was the convenience of all London has to offer right on our doorstep. Loading our Oyster cards with a zone 1 and 2 weekly travel-pass and it was on and off trains, boats and buses no problem! The week saw us tick both the London and British museums off our lists along with Hamelys, Harrods, Oxford Street, Selfridges, Camden Market and numerous other London offerings.
We visited St Katherine’s dock where, as a child, I lived for a year on a Thames barge. We walked through a tunnel under the Thames retracing a route Darryl frequently traversed whilst working here 25 years ago. We caught a river boat from Greenwich to Westminster and were regaled by the boats captain with methods on how to avoid London’s exorbitant prices. For example – rather than pay 25 quid on the London Eye, see the same views for free from the balcony of the Tate Museum nearby! The arrival of Karen saw Karen, Paige and myself heading into Harrods where our objective was to view the Diana memorial, buy an affordable souvenir and act like we belonged sipping champagne cocktails in the cocktail lounge. All of which we successfully completed although finding Diana’s memorial tucked hidden behind the “mens shoes” was somewhat disconcerting.
The end of the week saw us hunting for that little something at Portobello Road market from which the burnt out Grenfell tower could be seen, visiting the biggest shopping centre in England and having a beer in West Ham, home to Darryls Premier League team.
Today we are back in Reading, catching up on washing and preparing to leave for Ireland this Friday.
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