Boxing Day

It was blowy by the sea and the horizon was all sky. Gorgeous. And cold. The others had been looking forward to fish and chips on the prom, but the friers were cold today.
Vernon and Charlie made a beeline for the amusement arcade. It’s decades since I have been in one, but 80p went a long way and I was glad to discover my oh yeah instincts outweighed my gambling ones by about a hundred to one. I might yet be safe on a trip to Vegas. I left with some two pence pieces still safe in my pocket.
We lunched in a Wetherspoon’s called the Joseph Conrad since Lowestoft is apparently where he arrived in Britain from Russia. Lowestoft was at that time a thriving, bustling port. Now it is a run down town with the air of somewhere that has seen much better days, and which has not quite given up hope, despite evidence to the contrary, of a renewal of those fortunes.

Continue reading