Sunday, August 17, 2008

Rye Recollections

Yesterday, we went to Rye .
Its middle-aged,

As am I.

Well, “ Dates from the Middle-ages" , we`re told
Which , on reflection ,I`d call old .
This distinction , of late , I draw ,
More often than I did before .
Anyhoo; some nifty boats
Spilt along the harbour front
Like gaudy beads of red and blue
We dutifully praised the view

We unpicked a knot of lanes
Stared at oddly angled beams
Like curious Alice , murmuring “Coo..
Built in 1492..

From time to time we had to stop
At umpteen Rye themed nick nack shops,
Acquiring tea towels and some fudge.
Those ubiquitous brown mugs ,
Earthenware, its called .

(Of course ,
We wondered how much houses cost.)
Then babes and son and wife and me
Thought that we might stop for tea

"In Birkenstocks and stupid shorts,
And the buggy they all want
Blue cagoules spare nappies, juice
Tangled in a new papoose


The middle aged leave behind
Their ancient dreams .

To pass the time
The soul sings quietly,

shrunk to fit
The life that time has left for it ”


While we had our tea and scones

We wondered how we would get home
You see we didn`t really know
How we got here...
Time
To go.
So anyhoo; when everyone
Was in their booster seats again,
We nosed the Volvo to the coast
Headed West
But soon got lost

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

Brilliant!

I temporarily got lost too yesterday. Struggled to find the Thaxted car park I'd left my car in, being slightly dizzy from climbing up the rather precarious ladder steps to the top of Thaxted's wonderful working windmill - which was wizzard and well worth it :)

Newmania said...

Thanks its not autobiopgraphy rerally just copying other peopel (badly )

Auntie Flo' said...

Woops, that last anon ws me, forgot to enter my name.

Actually only ended up in Thaxted as the result of getting lost - well, sort of. I took a wrong turn on my way to Ugley (no comments please!) which took me miles out of my way, so decided to stop where ever the road took me.

Newmania said...

Taking the scenic route Flo, thats the way to live

Raedwald said...

So you didn't make time to see the Rye Town Model, then? It's a model about 3m square with some benches around it. Worth about 5mts of anyone's time.

Except as it's the only thing they've got, they've built a 40 minute Son et Lumiere show around it, with little spotlights and a robotic narrator, and they won't let you out until it's finished ...

I know the Town Quay well, of course; brilliant place. You can leave your boat there with all the deck gear out during the working week and come back the next weekend with no worries. The bikers are a good bunch of lads too (except they fed the gulls tidbits with lumps of Hashish in for a laugh, which only made the gulls psychopathic. When the Quay had become like something out of Hitchcock's film the Council twigged and now there are notices up).

For anyone thinking of making the trip by sea, watch the tide. There's a heavy swell at the harbour mouth which will roll you about like a cork, but once within the breakwater your only worry is going aground or scraping the keel off in Rock Channel. Moor at the Town Quay with springs only, and bring a fender plank with you if you have one. It's run by the EA and is as cheap as chips - and you'll probably have to call the Harbourmaster at last 3 times to catch him in the mood to let you pay. A 'difficult' harbour so avoided by the Marina G&T crowd and all the better for it.

Newmania said...

No I did not see the model Raedwald we went to the horse and dog show instead which was thrilling for the young master anyway.
Its odd but I wondered if you had ever popped into that harbour it has that Enid Blyton smugglers cove look I rather imagine you fitting into .

Very pretty place and I was much happier with it than my attempt to be Betjamen gives away

hatfield girl said...

To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten
Unforgettable, unforgotten
River-smell, and hear the breeze
Sobbing in the little trees.
Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand
Still guardians of that holy land ?
The chestnuts shade, in reverend dream,
The yet unacademic stream ?
Is dawn a secret shy and cold
Anadyomene, silver-gold ?
And sunset still a golden sea
From Haslingfield to Madingley ?
And after, ere the night is born,
Do hares come out about the corn ?
Oh, is the water sweet and cool,
Gentle and brown, above the pool ?
And laughs the immortal river still
Under the mill, under the mill ?
Say, is there Beauty yet to find ?
And Certainty ? and Quiet kind ?
Deep meadows yet, for to forget
The lies, and truths, and pain ? . . . oh ! yet
Stands the Church clock at ten to three ?
And is there honey still for tea ?

Brooke got you too, N.
Very fine though.

Raedwald said...

The only problem with the Old Vicarage, Grantchester HG is its current tenant ...

"Sven Hard looked out of the vicarage windows to see a hundred spectral vicars dancing. It was dawn. He picked up his Uzi Mk4 and sprayed a long burst that felled the vicars like ninepins. Then he made passionate love to Vera Smelt. [editors please expand to 2000 words and add style etc.]"

Newmania said...

Thats really rather wionderful HG I only knew the last line which , I daresay because of its subsequent history , has a jingly note now out of keeping with the rest of the verse

Raedwald you have lost me there and I have the unpleasant feeling I ought to know the reference.

Oh dear

Raedwald said...

"And spectral dance, before the dawn,
A hundred Vicars down the lawn;"

A previous couplet from Brook's 'Grantchester' - now the home of Ld Archer

Newmania said...

Test

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