|A warm gingerbread man cookie |
in Rye to warm the blood
Except in some sick, twisted way, it was fun. I took a bit of a day trip out of London, as part of my "Get out of London" tour on a budget, and headed to a town called Rye in East Sussex, followed by a quick stop in Hastings.
Rye was pretty cool. Very English. Loved the cobblestoned streets and the buildings which were steeped in history. Loved the intimacy of the town and the storybook perfection. Very white bread. At first I thought I surely was one of the few young people in the town. Then upon closer inspection, I realised I was the only black person in the place. After an entire morning, and part of the afternoon, and despite my eyes being peeled for blackness, I was still the only visible black person in good ole Rye. lol. Still, Rye had its moments.
|Lovely old bar and lodge in Rye, East Sussex|
|Ypres Tower from its grounds|
The most memorable Rye moment was lunch. So we stopped in at a local pub where the menu seemed above average for pub fare and from the outside the place looked decent. I am not a fan of pub food, but I had already made travel buddy switch eating places a couple times - picky and fussy eater I am - so when we opened the door and I saw the interior of this place, I was loathe to ask to move a third time for fear of being labelled picky and fussy. But the first thing that greeted me was the cute, albeit four legged creature, outstretched on a couch in the pub. Now while I love dogs, I don't want them in the place where I am about to eat food. The mere presence of Lassie or whatever her name was, was enough to send me in a panic. lol. But I rallied. The place was pretty run down and that did not endear me to stay either but again...PICKY...FUSSY...flashing through my mind.
The food got there and it looked like mess - the accompanying sauce for my meat bathed everything else on the plate and it was a virtual swimming pool on a plate. But the crowning moment of it all was after my third bite of the drowned pork, I noticed a long, straight strand of hair sitting very impolitely on my meat. Fork down, knife down, appetite lost.
The management were nice enough to refund us our money for my meal after I decided I did not need to venture into trying a replacement dish. I saw the dog trot off behind the waiter, probably about to sink her teeth into some hairy pork loin. Good for her.
Hastings was fun - also cold and windy though. We made a trip up the hill via a funicular railway which gave us fantastic views of the seaside town.
|The view of the hill from the base of the funicular railway in Hastings|
|The view of the seaside town of Hastings from the top of the hill|
It was here I had a lovely Italian lunch, minus dogs and minus human hair, and a lovely chocolate gelato sundae for dessert. It was great to escape London and fingers crossed, I can get some work done today on my dissertation which is a nightmare on so many levels.
Have you "liked" me yet on Facebook? No. Like me here. Yaay.