Martellos and Mee Grob
Hello.
So I’m (roughly) 43 years and 2 days old. Perhaps that explains why I get so stiff now if I sit in one position for too long - things begin to seize up if they’re not used often enough, it would seem.
Yup, it was my birthday on Tuesday and I had a very nice, relaxed day with presents and cards when I woke up (and I was very good with the cards; other than the one from people at work I hadn’t opened any beforehand,) breakfast made for me and a bit of a lay-in. Even going next door to let their puppies out into the garden for a play (and a wee) was a treat, because they’re both such adorable creatures who love company and Drew in particular. After that Drew asked me if I wanted to go anywhere, either into the countryside or to the sea and I chose the latter, more specifically Felixstowe Ferry. This was because it was where Mum and Dad had taken us for an evening meal a few weeks ago, to the Ferry Boat Inn, but because it had been dark (and cold) we hadn’t explored the area at all. I’d been taken there as a child, but I must have been very small indeed because I couldn’t remember anything about it at all. Also, considering how often I’ve been to Felixstowe in the last 43 years (i.e. since I was born) it’s amazing to think I haven’t been there more often, so all-in-all I decided that a daylight visit was a good choice.
We weren’t sure where we could park, but found a pay and display car park by the well-known Ferry Café, apparently the source of some of the best fish and chips in the area. It looks quite shabby on the outside, but as I’ve learnt over the years appearance is not necessarily something to judge somewhere by and if the large amount of people inside it is busy and popular even off-season. We walked first down to where the little ferry itself goes from, crossing as it does the River Deben to Bawdsey on the other side, and marvelled at how swiftly the river runs down to the sea at this point - there were many notices warning against swimming at this point due to the currents as the river meets the sea, and you could really see why here.
The water flowing over the submerged part of the ferry’s landing stage.
Fishermen’s huts.
As we rounded the fishermen’s huts and set off along the footpath that separates the land from the beach the full force of the wind coming off the sea became apparent, making me glad that at the last moment I’d grabbed my scarf from the coat pegs and wish that I hadn’t got my hair tied back because my left ear was suddenly very cold indeed. (I couldn’t have my hair loose - it was in dire need of a wash and I wasn’t going to expose that horror to anyone.) I think the words “extremely bracing” sum up the wind and the temperature perfectly. Lovely, just how I like it; give me bracing over hot any day. It would seem that lots of other people had the same idea as we passed by quite a few others, some dressed for long walks, others with their dogs having a brisk but brief stroll to clear the cobwebs. The golf course that now takes up the expanse between Felixstowe Ferry and the furthest reach of Felixstowe proper was quite busy, too, but I suspect the golfers, being at a lower level than the sea wall, were sheltered from the worst of the sea wind.
Mum had been surprised that we’d never noticed the Martello Tower at the Ferry but once we’d walked past it to the other one, which sits incongruously on the golf course, and looked back the way we’d come we could see how we’d missed it. Surrounded by other buildings it just blended in with them, the curvature of the walls not obvious at all and the chimneys on the top just serving to make it seem even less distinct.
The Martello Tower at the Ferry.
The two towers.
The golf course tower.
Spot the tower back at the Ferry.
We’ve only ever walked this far before, but from the other direction, so it was great to “complete” the route this time. Actually, the last time we’d been there we wouldn’t have been able to walk the whole route without taking a detour over the golf course, not advisable when it’s busy, because some extreme work was being done on the sea wall. Next time we’ll be able to do the whole thing, have a cuppa at the café and stroll back to the car. This time we took some photos across the river mouth towards Bawdsey Manor, which just at that moment was illuminated by some stray sunshine.
Bawdsey Manor.
We walked slowly back to the car, my right ear suffering from the effects of the wind this time, debating how many of the buildings there are permanently occupied and how many are holiday properties. Some of the houses, little more than large chalets really, appeared to be empty. Could it be somewhere to spend a few days sometime, seeing as it looks as though a trip to Wales is going to be out of the question this year? Hmmm.
We drove back along the road that bisects the golf course and into Felixstowe itself, parking on the sea front road where during the summer you don’t have a hope in hell of finding a space. A short walk here was in order, partly to have a look at what state the prom is in at the moment (fine, by the way) and partly because I really needed to have a wee and the toilet block was a little way along. I always find it slightly disorientating there since the café that was on very dangerous looking, improvised stilts was demolished due to safety concerns but this time my sense of displacement was compounded by the removal of the beach huts from their customary place beside the prom. The huts have always been vulnerable to damage by stormy seas but over the past few years even moreso, so finally they have been moved back from the sea front and now stand jammed close together on two different sites presumably waiting to be returned when the weather improves in the spring.
Luckily for us one of the sea front chippies was open, the one we usually go to, because we hadn’t had any lunch and were both feeling peckish. What is it about eating chips at the seaside which makes them so different? I mean you can have good chips and bad chips wherever you might be, and our local fish and chip shop does very good chips, but there must be something in that sea air that adds to the flavour.
Then, our appetites for fresh air and fried potato satiated, we drove back home to ostensibly to do things around the house and get ready to go out with Mum and Dad in the evening. In fact what happened was that we made a cup of tea, took our mugs upstairs and then promptly fell asleep for a couple of hours. Perhaps it was the fresh air, who knows. Anyway, we were up with enough time to shower and get ready to drive over to Mum and Dad’s for quarter past seven.
It was my choice to go to the marvellous Kwan Thai restaurant in St. Nicholas street. I’ve been there several times now and without fail it is excellent. We hadn’t booked a table, thinking that on a Tuesday night in February it wouldn’t be particularly busy and it seemed we were right in that assumption… at first. By 8.30 it was really very busy and by 9 they were turning large parties away. If anyone ever needed testimony that the place has a loyal following then it was personified in the two lads who waited for over an hour for a table for two to become free - not many places would command that sort of dedication when there are several alternatives in a short walking distance. And despite there only being three of them having to divide their time between all the tables the waitresses, two who were Thai and the British wife of the owner, were genuinely, happily polite and thorough throughout. At one point Mum said that they weren’t to worry about us because we weren’t in any hurry and were happy to pause between courses, and it was just right.
We had one of the mixed starters, for three rather than two, which was excellent. I can’t remember what the others had for their main course but I had pork Hong Kong style, of which there was a large amount, egg fried rice, and my favourite Mee Grob, (that’s one of the many spellings I found on the internet last night) the crispy noodles. I can’t go for a Thai meal without having those sweet, crispy noodles. Two bottles of South African red wine lubricated the whole affair.
Astonishingly we were there for over three hours! Just the right pace. We went back to Mum and Dad’s for a cup of tea and an hour or so’s chatting before Dad brought us home.
I can safely say that it was one of the best birthdays. Lovely. And, as I write, there are still 5 days to go of my holiday! More adventures to come?
Sorry it’s tailed off a bit there but I need to go and do stuff. More soon.
So I’m (roughly) 43 years and 2 days old. Perhaps that explains why I get so stiff now if I sit in one position for too long - things begin to seize up if they’re not used often enough, it would seem.
Yup, it was my birthday on Tuesday and I had a very nice, relaxed day with presents and cards when I woke up (and I was very good with the cards; other than the one from people at work I hadn’t opened any beforehand,) breakfast made for me and a bit of a lay-in. Even going next door to let their puppies out into the garden for a play (and a wee) was a treat, because they’re both such adorable creatures who love company and Drew in particular. After that Drew asked me if I wanted to go anywhere, either into the countryside or to the sea and I chose the latter, more specifically Felixstowe Ferry. This was because it was where Mum and Dad had taken us for an evening meal a few weeks ago, to the Ferry Boat Inn, but because it had been dark (and cold) we hadn’t explored the area at all. I’d been taken there as a child, but I must have been very small indeed because I couldn’t remember anything about it at all. Also, considering how often I’ve been to Felixstowe in the last 43 years (i.e. since I was born) it’s amazing to think I haven’t been there more often, so all-in-all I decided that a daylight visit was a good choice.
We weren’t sure where we could park, but found a pay and display car park by the well-known Ferry Café, apparently the source of some of the best fish and chips in the area. It looks quite shabby on the outside, but as I’ve learnt over the years appearance is not necessarily something to judge somewhere by and if the large amount of people inside it is busy and popular even off-season. We walked first down to where the little ferry itself goes from, crossing as it does the River Deben to Bawdsey on the other side, and marvelled at how swiftly the river runs down to the sea at this point - there were many notices warning against swimming at this point due to the currents as the river meets the sea, and you could really see why here.
The water flowing over the submerged part of the ferry’s landing stage.
Fishermen’s huts.
As we rounded the fishermen’s huts and set off along the footpath that separates the land from the beach the full force of the wind coming off the sea became apparent, making me glad that at the last moment I’d grabbed my scarf from the coat pegs and wish that I hadn’t got my hair tied back because my left ear was suddenly very cold indeed. (I couldn’t have my hair loose - it was in dire need of a wash and I wasn’t going to expose that horror to anyone.) I think the words “extremely bracing” sum up the wind and the temperature perfectly. Lovely, just how I like it; give me bracing over hot any day. It would seem that lots of other people had the same idea as we passed by quite a few others, some dressed for long walks, others with their dogs having a brisk but brief stroll to clear the cobwebs. The golf course that now takes up the expanse between Felixstowe Ferry and the furthest reach of Felixstowe proper was quite busy, too, but I suspect the golfers, being at a lower level than the sea wall, were sheltered from the worst of the sea wind.
Mum had been surprised that we’d never noticed the Martello Tower at the Ferry but once we’d walked past it to the other one, which sits incongruously on the golf course, and looked back the way we’d come we could see how we’d missed it. Surrounded by other buildings it just blended in with them, the curvature of the walls not obvious at all and the chimneys on the top just serving to make it seem even less distinct.
The Martello Tower at the Ferry.
The two towers.
The golf course tower.
Spot the tower back at the Ferry.
We’ve only ever walked this far before, but from the other direction, so it was great to “complete” the route this time. Actually, the last time we’d been there we wouldn’t have been able to walk the whole route without taking a detour over the golf course, not advisable when it’s busy, because some extreme work was being done on the sea wall. Next time we’ll be able to do the whole thing, have a cuppa at the café and stroll back to the car. This time we took some photos across the river mouth towards Bawdsey Manor, which just at that moment was illuminated by some stray sunshine.
Bawdsey Manor.
We walked slowly back to the car, my right ear suffering from the effects of the wind this time, debating how many of the buildings there are permanently occupied and how many are holiday properties. Some of the houses, little more than large chalets really, appeared to be empty. Could it be somewhere to spend a few days sometime, seeing as it looks as though a trip to Wales is going to be out of the question this year? Hmmm.
We drove back along the road that bisects the golf course and into Felixstowe itself, parking on the sea front road where during the summer you don’t have a hope in hell of finding a space. A short walk here was in order, partly to have a look at what state the prom is in at the moment (fine, by the way) and partly because I really needed to have a wee and the toilet block was a little way along. I always find it slightly disorientating there since the café that was on very dangerous looking, improvised stilts was demolished due to safety concerns but this time my sense of displacement was compounded by the removal of the beach huts from their customary place beside the prom. The huts have always been vulnerable to damage by stormy seas but over the past few years even moreso, so finally they have been moved back from the sea front and now stand jammed close together on two different sites presumably waiting to be returned when the weather improves in the spring.
Luckily for us one of the sea front chippies was open, the one we usually go to, because we hadn’t had any lunch and were both feeling peckish. What is it about eating chips at the seaside which makes them so different? I mean you can have good chips and bad chips wherever you might be, and our local fish and chip shop does very good chips, but there must be something in that sea air that adds to the flavour.
Then, our appetites for fresh air and fried potato satiated, we drove back home to ostensibly to do things around the house and get ready to go out with Mum and Dad in the evening. In fact what happened was that we made a cup of tea, took our mugs upstairs and then promptly fell asleep for a couple of hours. Perhaps it was the fresh air, who knows. Anyway, we were up with enough time to shower and get ready to drive over to Mum and Dad’s for quarter past seven.
It was my choice to go to the marvellous Kwan Thai restaurant in St. Nicholas street. I’ve been there several times now and without fail it is excellent. We hadn’t booked a table, thinking that on a Tuesday night in February it wouldn’t be particularly busy and it seemed we were right in that assumption… at first. By 8.30 it was really very busy and by 9 they were turning large parties away. If anyone ever needed testimony that the place has a loyal following then it was personified in the two lads who waited for over an hour for a table for two to become free - not many places would command that sort of dedication when there are several alternatives in a short walking distance. And despite there only being three of them having to divide their time between all the tables the waitresses, two who were Thai and the British wife of the owner, were genuinely, happily polite and thorough throughout. At one point Mum said that they weren’t to worry about us because we weren’t in any hurry and were happy to pause between courses, and it was just right.
We had one of the mixed starters, for three rather than two, which was excellent. I can’t remember what the others had for their main course but I had pork Hong Kong style, of which there was a large amount, egg fried rice, and my favourite Mee Grob, (that’s one of the many spellings I found on the internet last night) the crispy noodles. I can’t go for a Thai meal without having those sweet, crispy noodles. Two bottles of South African red wine lubricated the whole affair.
Astonishingly we were there for over three hours! Just the right pace. We went back to Mum and Dad’s for a cup of tea and an hour or so’s chatting before Dad brought us home.
I can safely say that it was one of the best birthdays. Lovely. And, as I write, there are still 5 days to go of my holiday! More adventures to come?
Sorry it’s tailed off a bit there but I need to go and do stuff. More soon.