En route to those rolling hills we stopped by one of the Duke of Wellington's homes, Stratfield Saye House, because it was at a convenient halfway point .I was quite delighted to learn that you could only visit the house via guided tour and we'd missed the last tour. Not to sound like a total arse, but I am kind of sick of touring palatial manor houses... We went to the Loire Valley back when I was first pregnant with Violet, I was continuously queasy, couldn't drink any of the wine and it rained the whole time... Consequently I think I accidentally aversion-therapied myself to the whole, "walk in and stare at how people vastly wealthier and more inbred than you once lived" scene. Plus, now that I've seen three seasons of Downton Abbey I feel like an expert in all things Great House....
Still, the grounds of this place, which we were allowed to wander in, were gorgeous and there was surprisingly fascinating museum dedicated to the Duke of W... I had only every really paid attention to him as the dude who beat Napoleon and therefore an extremely minor character in a Jane Austen novel, but actually, now I want to learn more about him... Way to go crappy museum!
Strafield Saye it ain't so!
Backyard at Stratfield Saye
The highlight of Andy's trip to Stratfield Saye? This sign above the peeing trough thing in the men's room:
Don't ask why he brought the camera into the toilet...
Post Stratfield Saye and some truly horrendous traffic on the M25 ring road around London (to be expected on a Friday afternoon... especially when you think that a quarter of the population of Canada -a pretty large country, btw - actually live in the London Metropolitan region -- kind of puts rush hour on the Champlain Bridge into perspective... ) we arrived in East Sussex.
The terrifying thing about trip planning ,and one of the reasons I don't love doing it, is that you never REALLY know what you're getting yourself into when you book a place. I was in charge of finding our base camp for the East Sussex portion of the trip. We (along with two Canadian friends and an entire family of Brits) would be staying there while a portion of us would be going to a conference at Herstmonceux Castle, where I had attended school lo these 17 years- gah, how is that possible?) I digress.. I had chosen the cottage based on proximity to the conference, price and Tripadvisor.com comments. Despite the fact that it checked all the right boxes, I was still nervous, What if I had actually committed us (and our friends) to a week in a total dive?
I had no reason to worry. This was our view:
The cottage
In addition to the stunning prettiness of it all, the cottage was gorgeous - brand new, satellite TV (though no Interwebs -- what up with that, East Sussex?) and perhaps most magical of all, the shower not only had water pressure, but had STRONG water pressure. The Brits, heaven bless 'em, may have once administered the mightiest empire in human history, produced Baby Spice and created Cheddar cheese, but they have never figured out plumbing. Anyway, they could take lessons from The Byre, Coombe Hill.
The beautiful people who ran the cottage had not only perched their little jewel box on a super pretty hill, but had provided a croquet pitch (field?) and lawn chairs... Thus, we spent most evenings lolled in lawn chairs, watching the sheep, playing croquet and drinking Pimms and lemonade.
Chillaxin'
The view from the chaise:
Croquet:
More croquet:
We'd rented two cottages with friends, one group of whom, Brits, intelligently ordered a massive grocery delivery to the cottage for the evening we arrived. Being the civilized country that it is, the delivery included chippies, Nutella, Gin, Pimms, wine, sparkling wine and four packets of fairy cakes. Why can't we get this kind of grocery delivery service in Canada, it was possibly my favourite thing about the whole trip!
In addition to eating, we had a glorious countryside ramble, where we explored the gentle Sussex hills, tried to spot Winnie the Pooh (A.A. Milne had lived nearby), located cows, horses and sheep and generally had a wonderful time... Especially when, we were all kind of pooped and verging on cranky, and low, we arrived at the little village of Herstmonceux and the ordnance map we were using to navigate helpfully included a beer stein to indicate the availability of a pub... A catch of the day and beer shandy later and we were ready to resume the walk.
We also took the wonderful opportunity afforded to us by blowing our tire on a curb (ahem) to visit Bexhill. Not only was their Kwikee Tire Service top notch, but they have a little modernist pavillion they've turned into an art gallery. For future reference, the Bexhill Pavillion kind of sucks, and when you curb a Mercedes (@*#&#&# rental car upgrade) it will set you back $300 to replace the GD Tire. La la.
The day improved significantly when we we went to Hastings. I remembered it as an uninteresting little town when I was a twenty year old university student. Either the town has become more interesting, or my tastes have become more refined (boring) in my middle age... Anyway. Hastings has delish fish and chips, windy medieval lanes to wander through, a big hill to climb (useful post aforementioned delish fish and chips) and kooky shops where July sales occur...
Top of the Hastings Hill:
Fun, sea-themed sculpture (rude local child interposing himself into Vi's photo):
Best of all, was that at the end of our day, before making our way home, we had promised Vi a ride on the miniature railway... we were all dreading it, because we just wanted to get to the car and get home... Miracle of miracles, a one way ticket left from the base of the hill we just climbed and deposited us at the parking lot. SCORE!
Vi's expression expresses my sentiments:
Our last touristy expedition in East Sussex (apart from a blowout meal at the Lamb Inn, Wartling --fish cakes, pork terrine, lamb, sticky toffee pudding, sparking wine) was a visit to Battle, which was where the Battle of Hastings (1066, you know it!) occurred. It was a great day -- super fascinating history, decent weather, gorgeous scenery:
A wonderful way to leave East Sussex, and indeed the UK, and indeed the entire continent of Europe, and indeed, the ENTIRE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE.
We were heading south my babies... Way, way south...
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