Bawdsey (Day two)

The sunset last night was one of our best ever. Certainly, the best one we'd seen this year. Eight vans here last night plus some youngsters camping on the beach. One tent a little too close to the tide mark. From across the water the sound of music carried on the breeze. We all stayed up late, the evening so warm. Around two o' clock this morning Angela woke up. She could hear the waves lapping on the beach and voices coming from the far end of the beach. Oh dear. You didn't pitch your tent on the beach, did you? Oh well, when you're our age it'll be a funny story to tell people.

This morning the air felt fresher, although still warm. The view from Marge an everchanging picture, a mix of work and pleasure boats out on the river shifting slightly as once again the tide slowly started to creep back in.

Our plan today was to take the passenger ferry across to Felixstowe Ferry, but the light rain began to fall so we decided to spend a quiet day with Marge, walking out to the shingle beach in between showers where we collected shells to take home for our shell vase.

What a difference a day makes. Bring back the sunshine and warmth. And, we have no shops here. Please send chocolate! 

Bawdsey Quay

Last night was hot. This morning was hot. Today will be hot. Enjoy it, Marge. Park me somewhere shady please. Ben who we met at North Sands in Cornwall is in Scotland, and watching his YouTube video Bejan van last night it looks like we definitely have the best of the weather in the south. 

We would only be driving a few miles today so stopped off at the Tide Mill in Woodbridge checking out the boats for sale at Andy Seedhouse.

Then took a look in the Longshed where a resurrection of a ninety foot kings burial ship is taking place by The Sutton Hoo Ship's company. We were fascinated and talked a while with one of the craftsmen. How long it will take to complete? Who knows. What we do know is it will take some skill and patience to build this Anglo-Saxon ship. 

It was lunchtime when we arrived at Bawdsey, where the first operational radar station was built in 1937 and is open to the public. Arriving at the quay space was tight and we squeezed Marge in on the end of the parking. Fortunately, John found the owner of the car in front of us and they moved up so we could edge Marge up a little. Our view from the van across the river Deben was beautiful. Down on the beach a couple, no spring chickens grilled themselves. Obviously not wanting too many tan lines the man whipped off his swim shorts, flipping himself onto his front. Thank goodness. Sensing he was drawing a little too much attention the shorts went back on. But not for long. Oh no, he's taken them off again! That wasn't all, the man then began tucking the lady's bikini bottoms in, somewhere! Vanity. Not everyone wants to look like a Liquorice Allsort like you Angela! Thanks Marge. 

Late afternoon we ventured out of the van, the sun still very warm, and walked to the shingle beach overlooking the north sea. Sea kale grew wild amongst the shingle ruffled by the sea breeze.

Five o' clock some idiots arrived, men old enough to know better stumbling around like fools. There is talk here that the vans are to be banned from overnighting. Why, would you rather have a load of drunken yobs spoiling this beauty spot, than decent people who keep themselves to themselves? Marge always attracts these people so we had to move a little further down.

As a ripe peach of a sun began to go down, pigeons cooed as they cooled off in the nearby trees. The view was stunning, the boats bathed in a soft glow of orange. What a sunset!