The coach left at 8.45am so there was no late breakfast on Saturday morning. It was great to have a day away immediately after returning from das Boot, and this one was arranged months ago, a charabanc outing to Harwich and Dedham with the local archaeological society.
Celia and I were early, partly because my efficient kidneys meant a loo stop before departure was compulsory. Though only for me; Celia is a camel. We diverted to Waterloo station. Why didn’t we think of buying our copies of The Guardian? Probably because apart from the loo, my thoughts were focused on snacks. This meant that although the day was a good way of escaping Brexit, it also turned into anxiety about finding a newspaper. Over the last ten days my need to know the news has reached maniacal heights. I did pick up a tweet which made me laugh aloud. pic.twitter.com/622b3OUTAT
As we among the last on the coach we didn’t get to sit together, but we both found congenial travel companions who added to the day’s enjoyment. I was, unsurprisingly, eager to use the facilities when we arrived at Harwich where coffee tea and cake awaited us at the second oldest building in the town. It turned to be facility. Singular in more ways than one, in that it was a little hut outside at the back of the building.
The only times I have been to Harwich before have been to take the ferry to Hook of Holland, and I have never seen anything of the town. I knew it was a town that has suffered from the loss of the Royal Navy presence and reduced port activity, so I was expecting a rather down at heel feel. But it felt contented, arty crafty, quirky, and quite comfortable with itself.