Saturday 28th July 2007
Up early-ish, as usual. Annie scored the shower a questionable 7 out of 10. They had this ‘don’t touch’ air about them – not particularly clean.
We cycled into town, mooched around the small market, and bought some fish from a fishmonger’s for tonight’s barbecue.
We decided to try the beach out, so we cycled the mile or so, with the sun starting to get very hot. My cheapo sunglasses had broken the day before, so we stopped off at a beach shop to replace them. Where, of course, Annie needed to buy a beach bag. It was a very nice beach bag, and my replacement sunglasses were fine too.
Walking across the sand, our bare feet were starting to burn, softie English people that we are. We found the walkway, which was more suited to our delicate plates. The beach area is beautiful, with clean, soft, white sand, and sun loungers and umbrellas already set out with the names of the hotels that they belonged to written on them.
This is something, being somewhat naive that we are, we didn’t understand. The best of the beach is reserved solely for use by certain hotels. We walked in the cool surf, past “Reserved” sign after “Reserved” sign, and Annie eventually asked a lifeguard, who indicated the next space along the beach, which was crowded, dirty, and thoroughly unpleasant. We thought about it for several seconds, and then turned round. This wasn’t our idea of fun.
Back to the campsite, and maybe a lounge by the pool? Nope. All loungers occupied or reserved with a towel. So it was back to the motorhome.
We had lunch, and a siesta, before trying the pool again when it reopened after lunch at 3.30. We arrived there at 3.32, and everything in the sun was taken. There were free spaces in the shade of the trees, but that wasn’t the point. So it was back to the motorhome. Again.
I took off on an exploratory bike ride through the town. I found a Co-op supermarket that we didn’t know existed, and then I tried to head for the next town. I got up the hill, and found the road was a very busy main road, so I turned back, and then road to the lake by Puccini’s house. It was lovely, and I noticed that they did boat trips around the lake. It was a most serene, pleasant environment, and the view across the lake would make an impressive stitched-together landscape photo. Except I didn’t have my camera with me. Story of my life.
Back at the motorhome, we barbecued the fish and some veggies, although the fish was almost too much trouble. It was lovely, and although the fishmonger had interpreted by ‘finger drawn across the throat’ gesture as “we’d like them headed and gutted please”, there were still some bones and scales on them. I think we’re spoilt by Walton-on-the-Naze cod in batter with chips ‘nd mushy peas.
We spent a pleasant evening discussing motorhomes – what we liked about ours, what we’d want change, what compromises we’d have to make to get the motorhome of our dreams.
