I had to stop and count for a moment, to check we were really only on day two. In the best way, it feels like we have been here forever.
Today we did what I shall bow think if as ‘The Thorpeness Triathlon’ – a 2 mile walk along the shore up the coast from Aldeburgh to Thorpeness, with a stop at Maggie Hambling’s sculpture of The Scallop; an hour of rowing on the Meare Lake at Thorpeness followed by the 2 mile walk home.
In my mind, we would walk there, have lunch, row, and then Jessica would be tired and nap in the pushchair on the walk back. Ah, but she had other plans. Instead, she grumbled and moaned and grumped, and after climbing on the Scallop fell asleep in the pushchair on the way there. Which was fine for a bit, but the paved path turns to shingle and pebbles and then to sand, so pushing the pushchair becomes harder and then impossible, so we had to carry it a little way.
It was gloriously sunny one the walk up the coast, the sky filled with fluffy white clouds, and a cool breeze coming off of the sea. While we were eating lunch by the Meare Lake, the sky suddenly clouded over and we had a few spots of rain. We waited for a little while for it to blow over, and then took out some rowing boats.
Ours was a sunshine yellow called Trudi. This year, unlike last year I managed to get into the boat without stressing out. We took it in turns rowing, and Jessica helped for a little while. We rowed further than we have before, making it to a little White Castle-fort-folly before we had to turn around and head back.
There is a pub just a few houses down from our little cottage which has a wood fired pizza oven, so we had an early dinner of fennel sausage and caramelised onion pizza before coming back to the cottage to settle the children to sleep (we are here with our godchildren and their parents).
There is so much more that I haven’t said, all the little details and fragments which seem so insignificant to describe but hold more than their weight in meaning. Wild poppies shivering in the breeze. A weathervane, a bedroom balcony door open overlooking the sea. If I am ever ill, promise me you will bring me here to recuperate. Bees drowsing amongst the lavender. The names of the cottages. The back garden of the bookshop. The pebbles, the overgrown house. They jumble together and make the fabric of the feel of here.
When I am home, I will sort out my photos to share with you. But for now, I am sipping a gin and tonic, contemplating some crochet, and thinking about all the delights yet to come.