We then headed to Love Road to see if the chap who has cut the all the men's hair in our family since the 1950s. It is good to report that Stuart is well, and still working at 68, although I did keep an eye on his slightly shaking hands. As I did take the opportunity to get a trim.
Then into town to get a gift voucher for Mum's birthday at the Marina Theatre, call in at the smokehouse for some haddock for our tea. And then back home to spend time with Mum before it was time to leave.
Mum is the same as ever: no, that's not really true. She is not well, she still smokes and now has an ulcerated leg and what look like he beginnings of more ulcers on her arms. When we were there, her help was in cleaning the living room, moving the dozens of ornaments in order to dust whilst Mum just sits there.
The dusting did affect my allergy, and despite taking breaks outside i found I was sneezing more and more, so at midday we took our leave and headed south. It was pleasant driving out to St Olaves to Haddiscoe, Bungay and then down to Halesworth. It was getting near lunch time, so a plan formed in my head. I remember there being an interesting post on the GWUK group of the church at Bramfield, so I thought we could find a pub, have lunch, see the church before heading home.
We pulled in at the Queen's Head, went in and found it to be friendly enough. We ordered three-cheese ploughman and got drinks and went into the beer garden. Well, what can I say about the most perfect view possible from any pub? The beer garden went up, but beyound the brick wall was the parish church of St Andrew's. A typical East Anglian church with a round tower, except the church is thatched and the tower is completely separate. It was a stunning scene with which to have lunch, and our soundtrack was of hundreds of birds, all apparently happy with the way of things on the warmest day of the year.
The church itself was wonderful inside too, although I have yet to process those shots, we left a donation and headed back to the car, but only got as far as Wickham Market where i was sure there would be a fine church for what is a market town.
All Saint's spire dominates the town, and it is attached to an octagonal tower, with the church itself being of an unusual shape. I went inside high with expectations on what wonders i would find, but it turned out to be almost completely free of any character, it having been 'renovated' by well-meaning Victorians. Even the pews have now been replaced with modern plastic chairs, to me, giving me the air of a community centre. It is clearly a living church, but there should be room for the past in the modern church.
We headed back to the car and headed back south towards Essex. All was going well, maybe too well as we neared the M25. Then we saw a matrix sign saying the M25 was closed and on the radio it talked of 10 miles of traffic going nowhere. I thought about it and we headed south towards Southend, then along the A13 to Thurrock. We encountered no traffic and zoomed onto the bridge doing 70mph not having been held up.
We crossed into Kent and then onto the M20 and the 60 miles to home, getting back some time just after 5. The cats did not seem that bothered we had been away. There was time enough to cook dinner, smoked Lowestoft haddock and boiled potatoes, which was very nice indeed, before it was time to put on the TV, take my place on the sofa for the football.
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