Away days: Suffolk

Caught a couple of days away in Suffolk, stopping off on the way to our FarmStay b’n’b at Anglesey Abbey and Lode watermill. National Trust membership strikes again. Fascinating place, one-time home of Lord Fairhaven, he of Standard Oil (now Esso) money. Some altruism in the family: his mother bought the site of the signing of the Magna Carta so that it could be preserved for posterity.

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The twisting Winter Walk was fabulous, planting just going over, but the water mill (bought as a “folly” by Lord F) changed purpose when grain imports increased, becoming a cement mill. It is now restored, milling grain again and sits bright white-walled on the waterway; active and pretty in the extensive grounds.

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The house was interesting too: beautiful library and ornaments; the domestic quarters “frozen” in 1960s time.

 

But lunch was hearty and the drive continued.

Once we got off the A 14 it was easy to observe the verges that crowd onto the narrow winding roads. They are simply alive with either primroses or cowslips. Literally hundreds of them: a marvellous change from the dandelion decorated verges where we live. Also the abundance of rookeries, often in roadside ash trees or close to village churches. Birds busy, the air noisy with their raucous tones.

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Staying in  a farmhouse bed and breakfast, so we  nipped out to Aldeburgh for the evening.  Actually the first sight we had of the sea and strange, but lacking that typical scent of the sea; no shells on the high-ridged stone beaches and a complete lack of high-water seaweed. Shame: I had a half formed plan to bag some up and bring it back for the compost heap. There are big skies at the coast here and the sea hits the shore diagonally, carrying sand and tide from as far north as Yorkshire. Aldeburgh was quiet, too early yet for the tourist trade to kick in properly I guess.

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Fish and chips as a tradition; safe from the intelligent marauding gulls inside the car. It was cold in the wind after all: the North Sea coast.

Driving out and completely by chance we came across Maggi Hambling’s Scallop; a tribute to Benjamin Britten who spent much of his life in Aldeburgh and surrounding area. I had seen something about it on TV a while back. It is ironic that it sits atop a beach that has literally no shells on it.

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One response to this post.

  1. Sounds a grand day out 🙂

    Reply

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