A beautiful Genesis Brixton hybrid was discounted on eBay overnight.
ELLO.
I’ve been watching this, more out of interest, than any desire to buy.
Or maybe that should be any need to buy. I have the space, I have the money, but no need for a hybrid right now.
It’s very tempting though.
n+1, etc.
“Among the chosen sites are Clapham and Streatham leisure centres. These are both relatively new constructions, opening in 2012 and 2013”
To Brightlingsea! For the Music Festival!
I did feel for the organisers and volunteers who braved the storms blowing in off the coast yesterday. The show must go on, etc. And it seems that it did.
Sunday remained blustery, but with the added bonus of blue sky. We set off walking along the estuary. Never trust a Sunday rural bus service. Unless you end up pissed eight hours later and play Rural Bus Roulette.
We weren’t alone with our desire to head to the great outdoors and walk out some of the frustration from Saturday. The stretch along towards where the estuary opens up was busy with other Sunday strollers.
The estuary still reeked of shit, mind.
A little light rain threatened, and then some sun. Plus some bloody ACE Big Essex Skies. It was a wise move to wear walking boots rather than trainers. Puddles ahoy!
Keeping us company was some shared listening with the latest When Saturday Comes podcast. It was… half decent, if a little rambling. There was a great story about a Charlton Player and his Rumblelows Man of the Match Award.
We made note of some of the blackberry spots to come for future weeks. shhh there is already a few brambles that are rich and laden down with some goodies.
The Weird Wiv Sunday walkers soon peeled off. You are down to the HARDCORE once you are past the Creek.
Fat Bloke’s Bench was a disappointment The plaque has come unhinged. Maybe a little like Fat Bloke himself.
A family of very brave cyclists overtook us on the winding and overgrown run in to Thorrington. I last walked this a couple of weeks ago and almost gave up. The summer growth has made it tricky.
“They’ll soon turn around”
…I told A.
They did.
We walked up past Thorrington Mill. Some very early seasonal conkers had already fallen from the ground.
Destination Brightlingsea was reached. We walked past the public park whilst listening to a Deserter podcast. The Dulwich Raider was eulogising all about doobies.
I was reminded how the Raider and I stopped off at the very same park for a cheeky toke last time Dulwich Hamlet were in town.
11km of walking, and Destination Brightlingsea Music Festival was reached. How about some BOOZE?
I finally realised at the cricket last week that you just need to go for it with all day drinking. I’ve wasted so many post-Covid cricket sessions by failing to go on the piss as I weighed up the pros and cons.
Pros: You get pissed.
Cons: struggling.
And so we just went for it for the remainder of the afternoon.
The music was great - laid back Sunday afternoon folkie and Americana. The sun was on our faces as our legs rested from the walk.
The Brightlingsea Music Festival is wonderful. You’re never going to see any trouble there. One road in, one road out takes care of that. You have to really want to be here to attend.
Ady Johnson played a superb late afternoon set. A and I looked back on that short but very sweet Sunny Colch creative scene from when we first rocked up here. It was never going to last. Thanks for the memories.
Every summer it seems that we rock up at the Brightlingsea Music Festival; every summer it seems that I get pissed, soak up the sun and then float the idea to A that we move here full time.
The girl is having none of it.
I think my disclaimer of buying a dog sways her in the opposite direction.
Raffle tickets were on sale. Raffle tickets are always on sale at these type of events.
Three hours later and we had to depart ahead of some early evening work. The Brightlingsea rural bus service somehow managed to deliver.
Sunday evening was spent watching the Horrid Hundred from back at The Oval. That looks, erm, fun. Maybe we could move there?
