Remember, Remember the 5th of November

Our weekend started with Scarlett's first class assembly on Friday morning. 2D told the story (hilariously) of Guy Fawkes and the gunpowder plot before reading poems they had written about bonfire night. A group of us parents sat at the back chuckling away. Scarlett played one of the guards who catch the evil Fawkes at his game. 

On Saturday after some general lolling about with the papers, we went to the woods for a lovely walk in truly Autumnal scenery. It's a smashing time of year here at the moment and I'm really trying to get us out into it as much as possible before the colder more inhospitable weather comes with Winter and we are more housebound. Only a few metres nto the woods, Flo slipped and fell in a huge section of thick slippery mud, which caused mirth for us onlookers and tears from Flo because "I didn't want to be dirty". Fair enough. 

 On Saturday evening, after an early roast chicken dinner, we drove to nearby Winchelsea to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night. There was a lot of choice locally when it came to bonfires but we chose this one because it's meant to be small and family friendly. Larger celebrations, like the one in Lewes which includes five separate fires and calls for the windows of the High Street to be bordered up against drunken revellers, were not for us. In Winchelsea, a group of about 100 people gathered by the village well at 7pm to see the local dramatic players act out a funny version of the gunpowder plot, not dismilar to the one performed by Scarlett's class. With Guy Fawkes captured, he was loaded onto a cart that led a procession of booing onlookers through the streets to a field where he was tossed onto the huge bonfire stack and set alight. Once he was well ablaze, a really good fireworks display began that had us oohing and ahhing. It was a super night and we were back home in time for X Factor.

 

Talking of fires, tomorrow morning the scafolding goes up on the front of our house so that next week our new chimney liner and wood-burning stove can be fitted. Only then can the really cold weather descend.

Happy Halloween

Halloween has become huge in Britain. I'm not sure if it's this year in particular, or if it's grown in prominence in the years since we've been away, but Halloween costumes and paraphernalia have filled supermarket shelves for weeks. Tesco devoted two whole aisles to Halloween make up, outfits, treats, tricks and more. Maria and Lol have a tradition of throwing Halloween parties, and this year was bigger than ever. They converted their basement into a chilling dungeon disco complete with headless babies and skulls. Upstairs a mechnical witch burst into life at the front door to greet visitors, a bubbling broth of punch smoked in the kitchen and in the toilet a wall-mounted monster spoke to you when you went near the loo. About 50 people came and everyone made a massive effort with their costumes. Lol was a vampire, Maria was Poison Ivy and Jack and Rob were mummies. Rob's costume took a while to assemble and was made from several loo rolls, badages and masking tape. I spent the afternoon sewing long black socks stuffed with newspaper to a black top to become a spider before facepainting Rob and the girls, Scarlett as a devil and Flo, a witch. Dad had THE most frightening mask ever, while Alexandra made a very pretty devil queen. Others came as Carrie, extras from the Thriller video, a ghostly priest and Death ("there's a little man form the village. Something about the reaping").  After bowls of chilli, care of Dad, and fireworks in the garden, care of Lol, we retired to the dungeon to cut some serious Halloween rug.

A visit from Jack Frost

We had our first proper cold weather last week. After a lovely Summer, the warm weather has continued all through Autumn. Last week we woke to our first frost, in, ooh about 13 years, leaving a lovely icing sugar effect on the lawn. I was thrilled because it meant I had to go out and buy a winter coat, my first one, in about ooh 15 years. It's black and padded with lots of zips and poppers to keep the cold out. Rob found the suitcase with our ski gear in and retrieved hats and gloves not worn since our last ski trip.

 We had a lovely weekend. On Friday night we ended up at the Lary Spudkins for an impromptu dinner, semi celebrating (but not wanting to jinx) a very successful job interview I'd had earlier in the day in Lewes.  Lewes was quite something and it would be great to work there. It is an ancient town with beautiful castle and lots of winding lanes lined with books shops and great food and craft shops. Watch this space re the job.

On Saturday Ed, Cass and the kids came up by train from Brighton and after a walk along the beach and through the Old Town we had mushroom risotto for lunch while the kids watched their new favourite film on DVD, Nim's Island.  Rob is meant to work on Sundays and, until his training in Eastbourne finishes, he's gone for most of the day. We drove him to the pick up point to discover he'd been told the wrong time and that the bus had left without him. Cheers all round as it meant he could spend the day with us. We drove a few miles east of Hastings to the beautiful village of Winchelsea. It has a stunning church, partly in ruins, and  happened upon Spike Milligan's grave and headstone there, famous for its gaelic translation of the phrase "I told you I was ill." We had a lovely pub lunch and have decided to come back here for Bonfire Night.  We have been swept up with X Factor fever that keeps all right thinking folk on their couches every Saturday and Sunday night. My favourite is 50-year-old Mary, a Tesco cashier from Dublin. We are also hooked on Downton Abbey, the latest costume drama on Sunday nights starring Maggie Smith. It's bonnets at 50 paces and has lots of below stairs action too.
 I fell under the curse of Dehli belly on Sunday night and Rob had to take yesterday off work to look after the girls (who are on half term) and I. I spent most of the day in bed suffering waves of chills and fever and extreme tiredness. Eventually I dragged myself out of bed and demanded to be helped into my wellies and taken to Pett Level for some fresh air and a bit of a walk. I went back to bed after we got back, rising briefly to watch University Challenge which included a cross dressing student from St Andrew's University. How times have changed.

Finally, here's a shot I took this morning from our bedroom of a lovely sunrise coming over the West Hill.

The Mckendrys cometh

An absolutely tip top weekend with the McKendrys that sent me into quiet tearful episodes behind everybody's back because it was the closest thing to bliss.  They arrived from Scotland (via Ashtead and Brighton) on Thursday morning. With Scarlett in school, Rob, Flo and I took them on a walk down to the seafront (to check out the blackened pier) and along to the Old Town where we had a lovely lunch and stroll into each and every great shop. On Friday we went to Battle to do the brilliant audio tour walk around the grounds of Battle Abbey, location of the Battle of Hastings, followed by a terrific lunch at the Tudor cafe next door. While Fraser, Moira, Rob and I caught up and laughed as if we were childless, Flo and Lily entertained themselves beautifully in front of a huge open fire with colouring things. Friday night was spent at Maria and Lol's imbibing large quantities of shellfish, wine and hilarious storytelling in equal measure. A night to remember, or not, depending on hangovers the next day. On Saturday, with Scarlett back part of the throng, we hit St Helen's Woods for a fantastic, super muddy walk.  We then drove on to Pett Level for a superb, freshly cooked, fish and chip lunch at the beach club, followed by a hilarious long walk along the beach at low tide. Hilarious because the children and I were the only ones in wellies, (while M&F& R sported variations on trainers) and we were able to go on a puddle and mud-tastic adventure including moments in terrifying quicksand and black mud that had us yanking each other's feet free. I can't remember the last time I saw the girls happier - Lily is very much their special friend. After a lazy early evening of boot cleaning and newspaper reading, we stuffed our faces with Rob's fish pie (Rob did all the cooking this weekend), and popped small children into bed, before collapsing in front of X Factor (on a Saturday night - surely a confirmation of our middle age), jeering, supporting and generally talking all the way through the acts, depending on who we liked. Within hours of M,F and L's departure this morning, we were welcoming Dad and Alexandra for  a roast chicken lunch to celebrate the 27th anniversary of my Dad's arrival at Everest Base Camp. We are now officially knackered and our door is closed until next weekend.

Wellies on

Another great week for discovering new things in and around Hastings.  On Friday Rob, Flo and I went to the nearby St Helen's Woods. They are lovely woods full of squirrels and birds with great walking trails, bbq spots and ponds. What amazed us was that they are relatively close to the centre of Hastings but because they are ringed by residential roads, you would never know they were there and you feel as if you are in the country. After a temporary refusal to proceed by Flo - it was hot and she was tired - we progressed passed fields of horses, along a lovely lane next to a huge pond with ducks and other birdlife and by a field with a pair of Shetland ponies. After our walk we went back to the seafront so Rob could see the pier. Walking along the prom I spotted this lovely old weather station that's been cared for and used to record Hastings weather for over 100 years. I love the symbols to denote the weather for the day and the records of weather highs and lows over the years, many of which sharply contrast with weather events we have experienced in Australia.

This morning we all went to Crowhurst, a village right on the edge of Hastings to have a try out at a community agriculture project I read about. Basically, you pay less than a quid a week and in return for 4 hours work a month, you receive a big box of produce every time you go. We helped clear a patch of  old sweetcorn plants, dug up swedes and parnips, collected potatoes and helped divide it all up between the 10 or so helpers there. It's all done on a piece of land, donated by the local farmer, and the range of produce they are growing is huge. The people we met were friendly, hard-working and enthusiastic, but there was a lovely informality to it. You turn up when you can and check a white board in the greenhouse to see what needs doing, then you just muck in. My new wellies got a fantastic christening and the girls loved seeing the chickens, being chased by the geese (you should have heard us scream) and fighting over who was going to push the wheelbarrow. As we were only there to see if it's what we would like to be involved in (we would), and only helped for an hour or so, (during which time Rob managed to hurt his back again)  we were amazed to be included in the share of the harvest and came home with a huge pumpkin and a bag of baby carrots, potatoes, garlic, onions, a swede, parnips, beans and apples.

Hastings Pier destroyed by fire

It was only last month I posted a photo I'd taken on the beach here of Hastings Pier. This morning we awoke to what I thought was mist all down the valley. It was in fact the massive plumes of smoke coming from the pier, set alight by arsonists in the early hours of this morning. The smell was reminiscent of Sydney during bush fire season and I had to tell the girls to shut the windows to keep it out of the house. It's a real shame that something that has stood for more than 100 years is gone in a few hours. It didn't really mean much to us newcomers,  but listening to the local people I heard talking on the radio this morning, people in Hastings had a genuine affection for it. It was built in 1872 and started out at 910 feet long, perfect for Victorians who loved to promenade. It was well known in the 1960s as a venue for big bands including  The Rolling Stones, the Who and Jimi Hendrix. Scarlett's teacher Mrs davidson was almost in tears this morning recalling her youth watching bands play there.  The local council closed it in 2006, fearful it had become dangerous and in need of serious repair, and was actively involved in buying it back from its Panamanian owners and applying for lottery funding after a report revealed 3 million quid would be enough to save it. Not now.  I took the girls down to the beach after school this afternoon in  the rain to see what's left and took these pictures.

Autumn cometh

Autumn is here. As well as top craft opportunities, thanks to pots of glue and loads of lovely red, orange and yellow leaves littering the park, the weather has turned much cooler (though not enough for my liking), we have had rain, sideways and diagonal, and have even had the heating on. Disappointingly, after having our chimney swept (by a grown man, rather than by Flo tied to a long broom) we discovered the internal bricks are buggered and we need to get a chimney liner and wood burning stove if we want any fires this winter that won't burn the house down. Like all mainatianance you can't do yourself, this is not a cheap affair. We decided we might need to give it a miss until we are earning a bit of dosh, but then today we went to a lovely pub in Brighton (Hove, actually) with an open fire and we straight away thought 'sod that- we really want a real fire.' On Friday, Rob, Flo and drove to Pett Level, a tiny seaside village with a pub and a post office. We went there to perve at The Big White House, a modern cubist building, designed and built by the bloke that managed the Pet Shop Boys. It's relevant because my friend Luke is mates with the guys that live there and stayed there last summer on a trip from Sydney to the UK.  Notably he described staying in the guest room and there being an Andy Warhol over the bed. What's interesting about this house is that almost every other house in Pett Level is a pretty straight forward beach house whereas their house is quite the stand out. The houses sit lower than the beachfront walkway, that runs along the back of the homes between them and the channel, allowing maximum sticky beaking potential. Once we'd finished having a good old nose in all the houses, we took ourselves to the northern end of the beach to a stunning new build that resembles the sort of house that would not look out of place on the shore of Sydney Harbour. While the sun shone, and the sea hinted at the blue beneath the brown, we could almost have been in Australia. On Saturday the wind whipped around the house  and we wrapped ourselves up in fleeces and hats and headed to the country park for a walk along the cliffs, picking blackberries and avoiding dog poo. I love being blown about a bit by the wind and it was a lovely 2 hours walking and talking with the girls. Having said that Flo has developed a new habit of talking and talking and talking until we have to ask her to just stop! On Saturday night the Lary Spudkins arrived for a dinner of roast chicken with caramelised roast carrots and cheesy peas. My Donna Hay dessert chocolate pots were dry and much less molten than the photo in the book indicated. I have to say this is another DH recipe that has not hit the mark. I find I often have to add or take away ingredients to make them work. It was hard to know what our guests thought as their mouths were so devoid of saliva it was hard to understand their  speech. I understood Rob's spoon banging on his plate to mean "Is there any cream?' and Lol's desperate pointing to his throat to mean "some water would be nice about now." Enough said. Today the sun shone but as we drove west to Brighton the rain started to fall, and by the time we arrived in Hove (actually) to meet up with Sydney pals Gav and Bev (here on hols) it was chucking it down. Thank goodness my gammy knee had me pulling out of the 10k run in Brighton today - we saw the dregs hobbling along in the rain and I felt certain our lunch, at the newly done up Connaught pub, was going to be much more rewarding.  We had a fantastic lunch, with the kids on one table and the grown ups on another, catching up on news from the inner west and  meeting Gav's sister Helen and her family. Brilliant.  It  almost made me wish we were heading back to Sydney. Almost.

Jamie Oliver's Hastings

Here's a YouTube clip of the new Jamie Oliver Sainsbury's ad. It's all filmed in the Old Town in Hastings, and most of it is shot on Tackleway, where we housesat for Maggie and Popi. Maggie and her daughter Peggy (she of the arm through the broken window saga) feature at the end. It's a really lovely ad showing Hastings at its best.

Flashback

Rob and I had a hugely enjoyable day on Wednesday when, unemcumbered by children, we took to our bicycles for a long ride, as we used to long before we had the girls. We spent a very happy fortnight in 1996 cycling from Madrid, out to Toledo, around to Segovia and El Escorial before heading back into the city. Our whole time living in London we cycled everywhere - to work, to the pub and to parties, sporting bike shorts and other uncool bike paraphernalia. We cycled, more than once, to Brighton, Southend, Oxford and Cambridge (you all know the story of me and the stitches in the back of the ambulance). Although we continued to cycle in Sydney, it was usually to commute to work and for short trips around the bay with the girls rather than for the sheer pleasure of going for a bike ride.  So, with the girls safely at school, we donned a selection of florescent gear, strapped on our helmets, climbed on our bikes and hit the bike path from Hastings to Bexhill-On-Sea. It really was a perfect day of blue skies and temps in the low 20s and it was a lovely ride along the prom and then off road along a shingle path hugging the  coast for a couple of miles, along the back of beach huts, before rejoining the bike path and prom at Bexhill. We stopped at the fabulous 1930s modernist De La Warr Pavilion, currently celebrating its 75th birthday. It's home to gallery spaces, an arthouse cinema, a cafe and a very cool shop and we stopped here to sit in the sun with a pot of Earl Grey ("Sorry, we can't serve lunch before 12"), and to look at the Critical Mass rooftop exhibition before cycling home again. Magic. In other news, the girls went to another birthday party this week (and Scarlett is on a playdate as I type).

Out and about

We're recovering from a very busy few days over the weekend. On Friday night we walked through the park to the Lary Spudkins for dinner, taking care this time not to break any limbs. A roast chicken bonanza and a few bottles later, we weaved our way back through the park, now plunged into total darkness. Only the glowing embers of bored youths' cigarettes on the kids playground, prevented us from stumbling into the lake. On Saturday we woke to another gorgeous sunny day and walked down to the Old Town for the Hastings Seafood and Wine Festival. We had no idea what to expect or how big it would be, but it was absolutely brilliant. There were about 50 stalls selling hot seafood, local cider and wine, bread, cheese, desserts and crafts. There was live music, gangs of pirates walking about (this seems to be a theme of Hastings) and a fantastic atmosphere. We took grilled sardines, cider, beer and ice cream dow to the beach and joined the crowds enjoying the weather and the view. It was  glorious. I was smiling ear to ear and Rob asked me if I was going to burst. Nearly.  

In the afternoon, Liz and Charlie arrived for the night and after the usual circling of each other, the kids settled into playing well. They spent the night in the playroom on the inflatable mattress, that Liz tells us  can no longer, in any conscience be called 'inflatable '. A leak left Liz on the floorboards for most of the night. Sorry about that. 

After a walk to the seafront after breakfast, we packed Liz and Charlie off and rushed about getting ready for our lunch guests. Our old neighbour and friend from Islington, Ed, came down from London with his partner Cass, picking up his kids Oscar and Frankie from their Mum's on the way. In the meantime Lorraine and Deborah arrived by train with Imogen, effecting a partial reunion of the 'Four girls from London' (having Ann-Marie over from Auckland next year will complete the group). The two groups had never met but the mix was brilliant. The kids all fitted in straight away and we ate lunch on the deck and laughed and chatted for hours. 

On Monday I caught the train to London, leaving Rob in charge of ferrying the kids from school to a party. I had such a great time and was amazed at how at home I felt after all these years. I spent a very happy few hours poking around my old haunts in Soho and Covent Garden where I worked for years. It was interesting to see what places where still there (the Coach and Horses, the Crown, the Pollo Bar)  and what was gone - the whole corner of Tottenham Court Road and Oxford Street). I did a bit of shopping, a lot of walking and then met Paul and Ruth at Paul's club in Covent Garden. It was so familiar to be sitting together again as drinking buddies that Paul said he felt like the pause button had been on for 13 years and had now come off. We met Paul's girlfriend Jess and then, being an interloper, it was still comparatively early when I hopped on the train back to Hastings, feeling very satisfied that things were back the way they should be.

The Gun

Rob and I got to enjoy our first day out together yesterday since, er, about 6 years actually. With both the girls in school and us both unemployed (though as yet not dole bludgers), we took advantage of my recent travel commission for The Australian newspaper, writing about a pub in East Sussex, the Gun, that is the start and finish for 4 country walks nearby. Florence was slightly easier to shoehorn off yesterday than last week and eventually allowed herself a hug from Miss Elphick as she waved us off. We drove for about half an hour to Gun Hill, a tiny hamlet tucked away down a tiny lane. Thank God for satnav.  Leaflets, including maps and directions for each walk, are available for free from the pub (and to download as pdfs from the pub website). The Gun is a top pub, dating from the 17^th century, sitting all on its tod on a remote country lane on the Wealden Way, one of the area’s most famous and scenic walking routes. The pub garden has a kid’s obstacle course and a place to tie up your horse. Seriously. At 9.30am we set off to do The Fields Walk, a four kilometre route that should take 90 minutes to an hour. The timing is perfect to have us back in time for the lunch service. We had a look online at French head chef Christophe Ferenc’s menu, a hybrid of classic European and British dishes, where possible using locally sourced produce. And a peer through the pub window at the specials board, got our juices flowing - homemade ham hock terrine, pan-roasted rump of lamb, wild mushroom and ricotta risotto, scallops and breaded sardines. 

Map in hand, we head off as directed, left from the pub down the lane. Straight away we realise the directions need more detail. We are asked to proceed down the lane to the track marked ‘Pekes Farm’. It would have helped to know this was a good 20 minute walk. Instead we keep thinking we’ve missed the turn off, although the scenery and peace is lovely. We pass thatched cottages with perfectly groomed gardens and dogs asleep in doorways, and enjoy the always amusing English road sign advertising the location of bizarrely-named villages – Lower Dicker and Coggers Cross. The lane is a minor road but the traffic, when it comes, whips along at speed and we’re not surprised to pass the startled corpse of a large badger on the grass verge.We are pleased to finally take the farm track and get into the country proper, passing bucolic cottages, fields of green, edged with wild blackberries and huge mushrooms, fine oaks and a shed, housing a vintage car restorer. Onwards past sheep (that rather put me in mind of the rump of lamb waiting at The Gun) and curious horses. We walk over stiles, through gates, along the edge of a field being ploughed, and across wooden walkways over streams. And then we get lost.

The woods are thick and we can’t see the stile we’re supposed to be heading for. We stumble about a bit before finding our way back to the ploughed field. We use our sense of direction to make it up from here and get to the field on the other side of the wood that we have to walk over to a laneway that houses two beautiful farmhouses. Despite losing our way, we loved it and worked up a sweat as well as an appetite.

back at The Gun we fall on the menu. I go for the fish board, a selection of king prawns, salmon crostini, superb potted mackerel and smoked trout with fresh bread and washed down with a pint of cider. Rob’s choice of the special pan-fried beef fillet doesn’t disappoint. We have sufficient bramble cuts to prove we’ve been walking and despite taking us closer to two and half hours, we’ve enjoyed the walk and the food so much we’re already planning to return to do the other three walks.

Scarlett and Flo start school

Scarlett was brilliant at school drop off yesterday and had  a great day. Flo surprised us by being very clingy and tearful and it was really very distressing leaving her at her new nursery school. Unsurprisingly, we received a call two hours later describing her joy at being there. When we picked them up they reported their days were 'fantastic' ( Scarlett)  and 'beautiful' (Flo). This morning Flo added "it isn't fair" that Scarlett got to go back again today whereas she has to wait until Monday!

Too cool for school

And so it begins

The first official Duthie Sunday lunch took place at the weekend with old friends and new. David and Andrew and Ruth and Pete came down from London and Laura, our lovely friend from Alfred Street, Sydney, here on holiday, was the surprise guest for the girls. The weather held long enough for us to eat out on the deck and it was brilliant to see old faces at our table I have dreamt about having there for many years. We ate trout followed by an incredibly moreish and highly calorific banana and Baileys bread and butter pudding washed down with Champagne. In other news, I gave in and finally limped off to the new medical centre around the corner. Diagnosis of soft tissue damage to my left leg, a course of anti-inflammatories and painkillers, a prediction of a 6-8 week full recovery and a total ban on running until then. So while I start researching yoga and pilates classes instead, I have to pull out of the 10k run in Brighton next month. Thanks to those who sponsored me, I'm finding out how to get the money back to you.

Phew! - what a scorcher

The secret steps with graffiti artist Ben Eine's work

The weather has been beautiful all week and we've been loving eating out on our deck and doing a bit of gardening. We've also managed to get a few jobs done around the house but the glazier who is supposed to be fixing the window remains elusive still. Flo had two 'settling-in' visits at her new nursery school this week and will spend the whole morning there on Monday before starting 3 days from next week. She was surprisingly nervous and quite tearful every time she thought I'd gone (I hadn't) but we're hoping she'll be fine for her first whole day on Thursday. Our lovely new couch arrived on Thursday and the armchair is on its way. We are continuing to feel so settled and happy here, particularly since discovering some new bits of Hastings. We met Maria on Tuesday for walk up on the hills of Hastings Country Park, overlooking the sea. There are walking trails for miles through woods and along the cliff and stopping in at the Ranger's Hut I picked up maps of several other lovely woodlands and wild parks with nature walks. On Thursday I took the girls down to the White Rock Theatre to see a live show of Peppa Pig, one of their favourite TV shows. Huge puppets of the characters were operated by black-clad puppeteers and we had a good laugh and a singalong. Couldn't help noticing the leaflet for this year's panto - Cinderella starring Little Jummy Osmond - just try and keep us away. I was thrilled to discover that, via a hidden flight of steps and a laneway, we can walk to the seafront in only 10 minutes, cutting 5-10 minutes off  the other route we used to take. In doing so we stumbled upon the Trinity Triangle, three intersecting streets in Hastings with great little cafes, galleries, a knitting shop, music shop, the library and a designer dog shop, selling everything from high-end dog collars to dog beds and bowls, the latter being the sort of place we could imagine in Double Bay, but not Hastings. Also nearby, along the seafront, is a shop devoted to raising money to save the derelict, condemned pier. It was originally a gentlemen's clothes shop and is still fitted out with glass-fronted drawers and counters and sells fantastic 1930s' tourism posters for Hastings.

Hastings pier

Beachcombing

We had dinner at the Lary Spudkins last night, with Maria cooking the most fantastic cidered pork. Even though their house is walking distance from us, Rob drove as my leg is still very painful. I'm very disappointed that I might have to withdraw from the 10K run in Brighton in 4 weeks as I haven't been able to walk very far all week, never mind run. This morning, after Rob had called an old family friend in Christchurch, New Zealand, to check it was still there after yesterday's earthquake, we strolled, slowly, down to Trinity Triangle for breakfast. We stopped in a nice cafe for breakfast with passable coffee and good food (but terrible service and loos) before walking down to the beach to search for interesting stones. It was really lovely splitting up and heading off along the beach poking about for things. Someone was even swimming, which to us pansy antipodeans seemed very bold. Tomorrow we're having the first of what I hope will be weekly Sunday lunches, entertaining friends from London we haven't seen since last Summer.