And, we’re back! Again. Having successfully avoided (most of) the coronation – a couple of doddering, tipsy old-age pensioners at a fancy dress party. Taking the piss. Utterly pointless.
Sadly, there were reminders everywhere that the Coronation was taking place – not only did the campsite hold their own champagne reception, there were a few fellow campers who had their own fancy dress ready to enjoy the festivities.
At least, I gather, the event passed off tolerably successfully, which has not always been the case in the past.
. . . Edward VII, endured the biggest calamity: his coronation, planned for June 1902, was cancelled because he developed appendicitis.
Many guests from the Empire went home, and failed to return for the rescheduled event held in August
The biggest drama that day involved the Archbishop of Canterbury, Frederick Temple, who had such poor eyesight that the words of the service had to be printed on giant scrolls of paper, like a proto-teleprompter. He put the king’s crown on back to front.
Archbishop Temple was so frail that he collapsed when paying homage to the king, who had to lift him on to his feet.
Wonderful. The only excitement this time round seems to have been how much humiliation they could heap on Prince Harry – it’s bad enough that his wife wasn’t invited (or chose not to attend – who knows?) but also, he was not allowed to wear his military garb and had to turn up in ordinary civilian clothes, unlike his uncle Andrew, the (alleged) Paedophile Prince, who turned up in full military regalia instead of being banned from the proceedings.
Many towns and villages held Coronation Lunches and neighbourhood celebrations on Sunday – we saw a handful as we drove along the highways and byways of East Sussex. Adam, Ava, Jessie and Julieta sent a couple of photos of the one in their neighbourhood park. One of the singing/dancing/drama groups to which Jessie belongs performed and Jessie had a featured role. As usual, she performed with her usual vigour and gusto!
The camping excursion was marvellous. Not only are we getting better at pitching camp (down to a mere hour and a half this time round) but we are getting more “at home” with our home away from home. Perhaps one more practice outing before France?
The campsite we had chosen turned out to be excellent – it was a small site situated immediately adjacent to an ancient woodland which, at this time of year, was smothered with bluebells. More photos!
The weather wasn’t outstanding – it rained more or less all day on Saturday but Sunday was glorious. When scouting around for things to do with a dog on a rainy day in East Sussex we stumbled across the Crime Museum in Hastings. Not only was it open, it was dog-friendly. So, off we set.
Daisy romped on the pebble beach for a while and then we made our way to the Crime Museum. Mistake! As you might imagine, there were a considerable selection of fairly tatty exhibitions which amounted to a dreadful “celebration” of axe murderers and serial killers. We beat a fairly hasty retreat once we had ventured through the first couple of rooms. The highlight of the morning was sitting in the van in a car park adjacent to the beach facing out to sea, sipping coffee while the rain cascaded down the windscreen. Ah, this is the camping life for me!
After, the weather improved somewhat and we set off up the road a few miles to Bodiam Castle, a 14th century moated castle built ostensibly to defend the area against a French invasion during the Hundred Years’ War.
Sunday the weather was considerably improved and our dear friends Sue & Stuart Kelly-Brown came from their home near Brighton to join us for the day. I had looked for things we might do and had settled on a visit to Camber Sands along the coast – a vast, sandy dog-friendly beach on which Daisy would be free to romp and run. Stuart was very opposed to the idea – it will be full of South Londoners out for a day at the seaside, he claimed. Nevertheless, I insisted that Daisy would love it so off we went. And, when we arrived, the section of sandy beach at which we parked wasn’t overly crowded. Actually, there was no sign of any South Londoners. As we climbed the steps to the promenade we discovered the reason why – the tide was in and there was no beach! So, instead of letting Daisy run and romp we meandered along the promenade for a while and then eventually made our way to the charming little town of Rye for some lunch and more wandering.
Lunch at the Globe Inn was excellent and afterwards we undertook a leisurely saunter through the town. Rye is lovely – very picturesque – and, apparently, we’ve been before. Neither Penny nor I could remember having visited previously but Stuart assured us that we had. And, when we eventually came to Lamb House there were some vague bells of recollection ringing in our collective memories.
Lamb House was the home of both Henry James (The Turn of the Screw, The Wings of the Dove, et. al.) and E.F. Benson (the Mapp and Lucia series) amongst others.
All in all, a good weekend away and a tolerably successful avoidance tactic.
I reached a landmark on my virtual cycle ride along the route of the Underground Railroad yesterday – I crossed the border from the US to Canada at Niagara Falls. Not quite sure why I have to carry on another 195 miles now that I have reached the sanctuary of Canada but the route, apparently, doesn’t finish until Owen Sound. So, a bit more pedalling still to go.
Finally, it’s been a busy week for birthdays – our Ben turned 50 (!!!) on Wednesday and my lovely sister Sallie turned a little bit older than that on Thursday. Happy, Happy Birthday to both!
Meanwhile, keep happy, keep smiling, be careful, wear a f**king facemask in crowded places and keep your distance. And keep safe. And be gentle to wasps and bees.
Lots of love to you all,
Greg