Category: Lockdown

Newhaven Heights.

This weekend’s walk was the stretch of coastline between Peacehaven and Newhaven.

Newhaven is a working port town, as opposed to a seaside town like Eastbourne and Seaford, with a regular ferry passenger service to Dieppe in France. It’s West Beach, French owned, was closed in 2008 because of safety concerns about the crumbling sea-defence walls and harbour steps. but there is an ongoing local campaign and negotiations to reopen the beach.

The coastline was barren and exposed but beautiful. We passed the coastguard watch tower and the old fort, which dates from the Neolithic age, through the Bronze and Iron Age and was then occupied by the Romans. Today there are the remains of various Second World War buildings.

During the Second World War the port, along with a large stretch of the South Coast, was a German bombing target. To protect Newhaven Port, the nearby river Cuckmere acted as a night-time decoy. The valley would be lit up like the port during bombing raids in an attempt to draw bombers off course and minimise the barrage of the town.

It was a fabulous walk, steeped in history and a totally different landscape from the Eastbourne South Downs where we commenced our coastline walk.

The Jackdaw.

Went for a winter walk up here:

Sussex Downs

And saw several of these little chaps:

Jackdaw

These cheeky little birds love humans and anything shiny. They pair for life and stalk around with a dignified bearing. They love human structures and a church steeple is an ideal spot to set up home:

‘A great frequenter of the church, Where bishop like, he finds a perch And dormitory too’

William Cowper (18th century poet).

They have their place in folklore too. A jackdaw on the roof meant a new arrival, or could mean an early death . Encounter one on the way to wedding and this was meant to bring good luck.

Sitting against a stone wall, with a flask of tea and a slice of homemade cake they entertained me on a sunny January morning.

The Tunnel. Sky Atlantic.

And how brilliant is this?

Clémence Poésey as Elise Wassermann and Stephen Dillane as Karl Roebuck, the detectives

Based on the original Swedish series “The Bridge,” this British crime drama centers on British and French detectives who are forced to work together when a French politician is found dead inside the Channel Tunnel, sparking a complex cross-Channel investigation. This is very clever writing by the team comprising Ben Richards, Chris Yang, Jamie Crichton, John Jackson and George Kay.

Again a bit late to the party, but really enjoyed this.

When things don’t quite work out.

I am on annual leave these last two weeks of January 2021. Like a lot of other people during this pandemic, I should have been elsewhere in the world. So we had to re-think. Plan B was a road trip to take in a few of these:

Then a third lockdown has meant staying in our home town. So plan C came into force and we took a walk and did these:

Eastbourne football grounds.

Eastbourne Borough, Eastbourne Town and Eastbourne United.

The Standen Winter Tree of Hope.

Tree of hope.

I’ve seen a lot of these crafting trees around this December. I think that creating them over the lockdown periods have given many people something to do and have helped alleviate loneliness and boredom. These ones were at Standen House, the National Trust Arts and Crafts family home with Morris & Co. interiors, set in a hillside garden.

The Crocodile by Roald Dahl.

“No animal is half as vile
As Crocky–Wock, the crocodile.
On Saturdays he likes to crunch
Six juicy children for his lunch
And he especially enjoys
Just three of each, three girls, three boys.
He smears the boys (to make them hot)
With mustard from the mustard pot.
But mustard doesn’t go with girls,
It tastes all wrong with plaits and curls.
With them, what goes extremely well
Is butterscotch and caramel.
It’s such a super marvelous treat
When boys are hot and girls are sweet.
At least that’s Crocky’s point of view
He ought to know. He’s had a few.
That’s all for now. It’s time for bed.
Lie down and rest your sleepy head.
Ssh. Listen. What is that I hear,
Galumphing softly up the stair?

Go lock the door and fetch my gun!
Go on child, hurry! Quickly run!
No stop! Stand back! He’s coming in!
Oh, look, that greasy greenish skin!
The shining teeth, the greedy smile!
It’s Crocky–Wock, the Crocodile!”

Carved crocodile. Standen House Estate.

Yellow Jack.

Martello Tower, Seaford.

This was at the Martello Tower (small defensive forts that were built across the British Empire during the 19th century, from the time of the French Revolutionary Wars onwards) at Seaford, East Sussex. Interesting!

As a post script to this post an old naval friend contacted me with a bit more information:

“It was flown first in the West Indies when the place was full of yellow fever by the Royal Navy but now it’s flown for other contagious disease.”

More Funky Blue…

“Music is the moonlight in the gloomy night of life”

John Paul Friedrich Richter.

There has been nothing roaring about 2020, but music has been a lot of people’s moonlight in these dark times.

And on that note here is a little bit more from the Funky Blue gig at the Grove Theatre, Eastbourne last month (October 2020).

Johnny b Goode
Relight my fire medley.
Take a little piece of my heart.