20.08.01
ALVIN AND BEV’S UPDATE
A couple of weeks ago we wandered up to our local railway station at New Cross Gate, trying to work out where we might head off to for the day.
Rain was pending from the south. It didn’t look much on the forecast so the decision was to get a cheap day pass for Hastings on the south coast.
To get the intercity trains you generally have to head to one of the main stations closer to town.
London Bridge Station had about 12 platforms with trains coming and going about every 2 minutes on at least 5 of those.
The main information boards help your destination with the platform for departure signaled alongside.
It’s a bit daunting when the express train charges through without stopping. Wind and dust is blown up and you dare not stand anywhere near the edge of the platform.
I remember back to the railcar rides in the coast. We often traveled down to Hokitika from Reefton to visit cousins. The old railcars were fun to ride on especially the novelty of using the toilet while it rocked and rolled.
The ride south to Hastings took two hours. The first stop was well into the journey as we cleared the city in a short time. I commented to Bev about the relaxed feeling you get when you can see open country side.
We are country people at heart.
Between London and Hastings is the county Sussex.
Most of the summer crops have been harvested now and the field remain bereft of stock. All that can be seen are the tracks where the machinery scooped in the harvest and a few rabbits.
Hastings is a typical English town. The best one I have been to so far.
There is a quaint mix of the old and new.
We started with a cuppa on the beach. The wind was blowing at about 30 knots so to unpleasant to remain on the exposed coast.
The beach is made of gravel flint stones about the size of golf balls. Not the sandy beach we are used to at home.
In the past the coastline was the cliffs. Man has placed barriers along the southern coast to protect property and so no chance of the sand being reformed by natural erosion.
I was interested in the history of the place particularly because we are new to this stuff. Above the city is the remains of Hastings Castle. The Normans used it as a camp when they cane from France to invade England in 1066. Hastings cliffs have stone age caves so we are talking about a very old town.
We enjoyed exploring the Old English part of the Hastings town. The street, alleys and passageways between the buildings have remained unchanged for centuries. Shops and pubs are geared for the tourist trade now but the essence of Old England remains. Away from the waterfront quaint old shops serve the locals so there is a genuine feel about the place. If both Bev and I entered a shop there was no room for anyone else because they are so small.
I think it was King Harold of England who was deposed by the Normans. He met his demise when he received an arrow in his right eye. That would hurt.
The wind died down towards evening and made our walk out onto the Hastings Pier a bit more pleasant. Most of the other loopies had moved on and I think some of the stall holders had given up and gone home for the day. The coffee shop we entered had very welcoming staff. They gave us tea cakes for free to go with out 2 pound eighty pence Cappuccinos (NZ $7.20). They hook it into you over here.
The sea was still very wild from the earlier high winds and roared below the Pier. I had a close look a the piles and metal frame work. Looked a bit dodgy to me. There are big redevelopment plans for the pier and I noticed on a sign that the refurbishment would be completed for the millennium celebrations.
Some friendly locals we got talking to suggested that we must try the fish and chips. I was dubious of this after my experience at Margate a month or so back. Huss was a species that was new to me along with Plaice, Pollack and Lumpsucker. I opted for one piece of Huss and chips. This fish was very similar to Rig, sweet with a grain and to my surprise had the cartilage remaining in the thick fillet. It filled the spot, I’ll try it again.
On our next day off we left early to go to north of London. This cheap day return ticket allowed us to head north to Cambridge, change trains five times and take in the sights of the big bulge in the east which is called Norfolk.
The land is more open and flat especially as we got close to the sea at Yarmouth. I was surprised t see windmills, which had been restored. They dated back to the 18th century and were used to grind corn until 1908. river channels called broads have an array of sail craft and holiday boats plying the waters. Large inland freshwater lakes abound. I learnt that these areas had there origins as peat marshes as there are very little woodlands in this area. As the waters found their levels it made it increasingly difficult for the peat cutters and the industry died out. Yarmouth is a beach resort for the central part of England. The weather in Norfolk in the east and away from the prevailing winds would appear to the best of English weather. I think the whole low lying area could do with the humping and hollowing, a land draining method adopted by farmers on the West Coast to turn Pakahi and swamp into productive farm land.
Alvin and I went to Brixton on the bus for a look. You will recall it has been in the news lately with race riots between whites and Asians. It is a trial area for more liberal marijuana laws. Decriminalizing of possession for personal use. It is in South London, about 30 minutes north of here. The first thing we came across was a lively black gospel group singing and praying under the trees in the centre of the community. There was a drunk jiving to the sound and drug addicts sitting about.
Brixton offers a seedier slice of market life than we had seen before. Bigger piles of garbage too and smellier fish market stalls. In a humid 20 degrees I had to hold my breath and push through the crowds in case I vomited.
The tatty stalls are cluttered either side of dogleg alleyways with perhaps 4 to 6 feet for the crowds surging shoulder to shoulder to squeeze through. The butcher stalls with pigs heads displayed axed open, are crammed with the carnage of red meat and offal
Obviously only my hellish perception as I saw some folks sitting opposite having a cuppa and the stall holders next to the reeking fish were selling clothing or rolls of fabric.
Stalls clamor for space in airless disused warehouses. Where they are set up outside there is flurry of activity to cover them in sheets of plastic for rain showers.
Breathing easier out on the main street I watched Alvin’s back as he queued to get money out of a cash machine. He thought the screen told him the money was not available. As he walked away the next customer a young black woman called after him that his money was there. Some other guy followed us up the sidewalk to tell us that never happens here in Brixton you are so lucky. We bought sweet corn, beetroot and a pineapple from the corner stall, from which we observed a few young men strutting about the intersection. As we moved on Alvin commented that he sensed something sinister in their behaviour. We speculated this could be the reason for 6 cops in 2 police cares, sirens and lights to flash past us back to the scene.
I imagined young cops in training being sent here for frontline experience. The shoppers we spoke to were pleasant, courteous and helpful with directions for the buses.
My final memory of Brixton is queuing with cleanly presented people for overcrowded buses. Despite the weight of the grocery bags I was unwilling to reset them on payments that are splattered with vomit and urine.
A troubled world.
The beetroot was nice.
I wonder what will happen next
Aldo and Flo
