No dawn chorus this morning just the cry of seagulls, the noise
from the refuse collectors and the chatting of the painters working on the
properties around us. We were tired having waited until after eleven last night
to draw our blinds as not to draw too much attention to Marge, then awake at
seven to open them again. A small price to pay for a free overnight spot with
sea view in a nice town. The town slowly awoke. Yet more tradespeople
arrived. Most of the properties here seem to be second homes or holiday lets.
The give-away, shutters and blinds drawn. A property here is a sound
investment, the prices high.
We had decided to stay in the area walking out locally to catch the passenger ferry to Walberswick passing on the path a sculpture of a nightjar, one of twelve nightjar and moth sculptures to be found along the Sandlings Walk between Southwold and Ipswich.
They do like a sign in Southwold and the jetty at the ferry proved this.
Eight of us squeezed on the little rowing boat and we were across the other side of the tidal river Blyth in minutes. We sat in the shelter of the sand dunes, dozing, reading and reflecting on life.
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