Katie And Dive Do Southwold - Pt.2

Fish For Sale.

Yay!
Just as well, because all the walking in the last post made us hungry.

So here we are at Darren's wonderful emporium (somewhere you will often bump into mum and Mad Aunt Janet, as well as me): the inestimably splendid Sole Bay Fish Company, situated right on the fish dock of the harbour.

What shall we have, I wonder?

Ooooh … I do love a good wet-fish counter, though judging by its expression the fish at the top of Katie's picture doesn't share my enthusiasm.

As the old music hall song goes:
"She was only the fishmonger's daughter,
But she always had a wet plaice for me …"
Ahem.

Southwold's Sole Bay is famous not only for staging one of the most hideous and blood-soaked naval battles ever fought, where the Royal Navy went head to head against the Dutch in what Pepys described the next day as "floating slaughterhouses" until so few were left alive that they had to call it a draw and limp home, but it is also the home of the best Dover Sole on the planet.
Here is the morning's catch, fresh and glistening and mouth-wateringly delicious.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm …

However, having no means to cook fish and other places to visit before we went home we plumped for plump, fresh, juicy cockles with a side order of crayfish tails.

Which we proceeded to demolish right there on the fish dock, driving the local seagulls crazy.

And afterward, we promenaded lazily back across the marsh and up the hill into town.
If you click on the photo to enlarge it you can just make out the lighthouse in the distance here.
That's where we are headed.

Here's the town sign, where the English and Dutch men'o'war are still firing broadside after broadside into one another.
Within sight of this sign is Adnams' brewery (finest in the world, according to me … and most other members of the Campaign for Real Ale), one of whose beers is called Broadside in honour of the battle and is - appropriately - a real skullcracker.

We finished our lunchtime repast with yummy (and allegedly nutritious) organic ice creams.

And then headed for one of my favourite watering holes: the Sole Bay Inn.

From the front door, you look out over Sole Bay itself from the top of the cliff, and being only a hundred yards from the brewery the beer is totally awesome!

Here is Katie about to get her first taste of the finest liquid available to humanity, "Adnams bitter".
I grew up on it and will always love its distinctive flavour of river water and old tin.
Honestly, it's won more awards than most other beers put together and is the real ale drinkers' real ale.

Katie's verdict:
"It needs to be served cold."

Ah, well … You can take the girl out of America but you can't take America out of the girl.
I shall do my utmost to educate her. I promise.

Here's the view from Katie's seat, which kinda makes up for the beer being served at precisely the correct temperature.
Click on this one for some bonus "gnarly old fisherman" action down in the bottom left corner.

So … replete, happy and with our breath an intriguing mix of cockles, ice cream and beer, we headed off, back past the quaint fishermen's cottages …

… past the Regency splendour …

… and past the David Hasselhoff Fan Club …

Until our next visit, Southwold continues its picturesque journey at its own speed.

Katie And Dive Do Southwold - Pt.1

Ooooh … What's down here?

Other than a road full of rhododendrons …

Yay! It's Katie!
Er … climbing over the car park wall to save walking miles.

We were going to send this to Cynthia with a note reading: "Help! I'm being held captive, chained by the ankle to a beach hut." but thought better of it.

Katie certainly got fit that day though, dragging the beach hut around behind her.

Anyhoo …
Here we are in sunny Southwold, braving a bitterly cold nor-easterly gale while some idiot children run around on the beach.
The sea that day was about half a degree above freezing, so not even those damned fool kids ventured into it.

You've seen the pier before, including the men peeing in the bathtub, so we'll skip that and wander right out to the very end where Katie has found the thing that keeps Johnny Hun from starting another war: our rather home-made looking Death Ray that we keep permanently pointed at Germany.

Er … Better not tell the CIA about that, they'll only want one.

The pier is where Katie and I found our future selves, sleeping off yet another carnival of frenzied debauchery.

And Katie showed how much better she is than me with a camera. Pretty, huh?

Er … did we mention we kinda fell in love?

Here is our previous attempt at deterrence … somewhat surreally used to kill Dutch folk in the late 1600s. I never understood why. Dutch people are lovely.

The red brick house - after the last Southwold posts - is now known forever as "Lynn's House".
I'm sure they'd give it to you if you only asked, Lynn.

Aha! It's those frisky merfolk with their bouncy boobies, enticing lusty sailors into the dirty habit of literacy.

There are some glorious sailing ship models in the Reading Room, together with a veritable cornucopia of seafaring gallimaufry.
Spiffing!

Here's the little house where we holidayed when I was a nipper. You'll have to go read the "Coast" posts for more about that.

And just opposite it, in the dunes, was this reminder of one of our very own Blogville neighbours.
Hi, Lupine Lady! We saw this and thought of you.

I took two shots of the sailing regatta through the beach huts but they were both crap compared to Katie's (which this is).
She not only collects postcards but appears to photograph them, too.

Wherever you go in the world, you will inevitably run up against a polite little Japanese gentleman with a camera who will offer to take your photograph.

ありがとうございました。

This is my current desktop on my big Mac.

And there we shall take a little breather in the fresh air at the end of the harbour jetty, before heading off to lunch in the next post.

Toodle pip!