Sunday 9th August 2015

Friday

And all of a sudden Friday comes round, and it strikes me how much stuff I have to do before the day is out.

I am heading to Suffolk for a school reunion once the day's work is done, which means that when Jools leaves for work at seven, we will not see each other until Sunday lunchtime. I have to regret, not for the first time that day, I regretted agreeing to go back home for the reunion.

Almost soon as I switched the computer on for work, I am hit by a mild migraine. Now, Although I get migraines, I get them mostly mild, and never with headaches, just disruption of vision, which at worse means I cannot read or look a computer screen for a while. So, I sit on the sofa for half an hour with my eyes closed, as all sorts of flashing patterns brighten the darkness.

Time passes as does the migraine, and so I can begin the working day, filling out travel report, file my working hours and prepare for the three hour meeting I have to sit through. Meetings, urgh! To make it worse, I am the only once calling in, and as is usual, the microphone only picks up some of what is said.

In the end, my part in the meeting lasts 15 minutes, and my ultimate bos slaps me down, but then he is the boss and is always right. It happens.

The meeting finishes 50 minutes early, and I am able to wind things up, just as I am doing that, the car hire place calls, my car is ready, am I?

I am.

So, I pack up, check my stuff. All is good. They come and take me down to the harbour to sign the paperwork and give me the keys to a brand new Megane. And then back home to register the car on the Dart system so I could cross over the Thames, load the car and I am off.

The plan is to head up the M20, cross over at Dartford then up to M11 before crossing to Newmarket and up through Diss and Bungay. And this is what I did, but then there was the traffic. Friday afternoon in August was always going to be busy, but the traffic on the M25 was horrible, and it took and hour to travel the 6 miles to the tunnel, then the queues ended and we sped up to 40mph as we went under the river and into Essex. It was a blinding hot day, bright sunshine, and so I had the air con on max, and I was actually cold.

Essex is, well, Essex. Full of boy racers and idiots in high pwered cars, using the motorway as a racetrack. It was was now half four, and the road busy, but not as bad as it could be. I turned north at Saffron Walden up the A11 heading to Newmarket, and the traffic thinned. At Bury I took the 143 to Diss and Bungay, and it was very pleasant driving in the late afternoon sunshine, passing through familiar villages and countryside. I make really good time, with long stretches of the road empty, and I can cruise along at the speed limit. It isn't until I reach Bungay that there is a line of cars behind a caravan. I decide to go through the town and then along the route I used to travel to the chicken factory.

I know the road, but on either side all the trees are now mature, and the views over the Waveney Valley are blocked off; garages and pubs not only have closed but have been demolished and houses built in their place.

Through Beccles where more pubs, cluns and shops have closed and been demolished, and onto Lowestoft. Thanks to GSV, I knew where the hotel was and what it looked like, so I drive slowly up London Rad South until I found a parking space near to it, and I had arrived: half six, four hours through heavy traffic, so not too bad.

I checked in, went upstairs to drop my bag and then head out for a walk, to find a place to drink then eat.

The once fine south beach has been swept away, and there is massive machinery try to put in protection to get it to come back. Odd to see where once was a wide gently sloping beach of fine golden sand all gone. A notice said it was due to the movement of the sandbanks, Lowestoft Roads, which caused the currents to move and the beach to be swept away. South of the Claremont Pie, the beach is wider than before, so this is where the sand is being swept to. It is a blue flag holder, but is doing the traditional businesses nearer the South Pier, which now overlook a building site, and unfriendly fences.

Next to the Royal Plain in front of the South Pier, a fun fair was setting up, but not yet open for business, so the circus folks were milling around, getting chores done. I see there is a pub at the end of the South Pier, so I go in and get a pint of Ghost Ship, which went down very well indeed, now something to eat.

Up the old High Street, where almost every shop has a sale, giving the impression many are just clinging on. There is hardly any one else about, so I make my way to the old centre of the town, the market, which is not a ghost town really, with mainly restaurants and bars open. Those and the proliferation of fast food places: you'll never want for a kebab there!

I end up at Sgt. Peppers, a burger place: I have a burger with pepper sauce: its OK, and comes with a mountain of fries. Service is good and so I feel much better.

Walking back, the sun had set so I take some shots as I wander down the High Street and across the bridge, the old town look almost beautiful.