Sunday, March 29, 2009
Rye, Sussex

Stephanie had agreed that Rye in East Sussex would be a good place to spend a day out. Because poor Llew was jetlagged, we did not leave our flat until 10. 30 am, arriving at Stephanie’s new place in Richmond only at 11. 30am. It was the day of the famous University Boat Race–the Oxford Versus Cambridge Race, that is, on the River Thames that brings annual hordes to the banks to cheer their favorite team to victory. Masses of folks wearing their Oxford and Cambridge ‘Blues’ were on the Tube headed for Putney Bridge and while I would have loved to have made an event of this exciting race, it only started after 2 pm and it seemed a waste to spend the day waiting for the afternoon hour when the twenty minute race began as the event is largely determined by the Tide. Instead, we proceeded to Richmond where Stephanie awaited our arrival.

She chatted non-stop on our drive to Rye as she told us about cancelling her plans to visit South America and about her efforts to settle into her new home in Richmond which she loves. Before we knew it, we were entering the medieval city that is one of the Cinque Ports, associated with the smuggling and piracy of contraband goods throughout the Middle Ages. Today, Rye is a quaint town, perched on the Sussex Downs and overlooking the rolling Romney Marshes. A river runs through it and provides rather attractive photo opportunities. But it is essentially its cobbled streets lined with Tudor structures with their thick exposed beams and stuccoed walls that delight visitors who flock to experience a bit of bygone England.

All three of us were starving by the time our feet hit those first cobbles…so it was not surprising that we headed straight for the nearest pub to treat ourselves to a substantial meal–Steph went for the fish and chips, Llew dug into a Chicken Breast served in a white mushroom sauce while I could not resist the Broccoli and Stilton Soup that was served with a hunk of bread. It helped to know that we were seated in Rye’s oldest pub–a very atmospheric place with low slung ceilings and wood panelled walls.

Well fulled for our discovery of the town, we started along the streets indicated in a visitors’ map with graphic brown cobbles. At every turn, we were charmed by the abundance of old-world buildings to which England clings tenaciously by ‘listing’ and thus preserving them. I actually came across a house named La Rochelle–and, of course, I had to take a picture at its door–only to discover that it was the home of artist Paul Nash who had made his home in Rye for several years. In like manner, we passed by Lamb House in which Anglo-American novelist Henry James wrote The Wings of a Dove. Alas, we could not roam through the interiors as the house, run by the National Trust, only opened to visitors after April 1. (I am beginning to feel increasingly that my National Trust annual membership has been a true rip off as most of their properties remained closed over the winter making it impossible for me to extract full advantage from the membership fee I paid last August).

Roving rather aimlessly around the town, we arrived at the East Cliff where author E.F. Benson, once mayor of the town and creator of Mapp and Lucia has installed a plaque on a parapet that overlooks the vast green expanses of countryside that embrace the little hamlet. This look out point is very close to the Land Gate which is, in turn, very close to a clutch of smart but very charming old hotels whose tea rooms offered elegant afternoon teas.

A ramble took us towards the Church of St. Mary (right near the home of John Fletcher of the Beaumont and Fletcher duo of the Jacobean plays fame) whose clock face and mechanism is one of the oldest in the country. It is possible to climb up to the top of the square tower that provides wonderful views over the Downs, but we passed…deciding instead to take a self-guided tour of the ancient church that dates from Norman times and offers a wealth of interesting architectural details inside that are sure to intrigue the most jaded visitor.

We saved the best for last, arriving at Mermaid Lane at the very end of our walking tour and making our way towards the famed Mermaid Inn, a marvelously well preserved Tudor structure whose thick dark beams lend it a very authentic air of antiquity. We took pictures in its cobbled courtyard–in the very spot where I had taken pictures with my cousin Cheryl and her husband David on my last visit to Rye, a few years ago. Then, because the wind had picked up and was playing nasty games with our scarves and my rather thin jacket, we decided it was time to leave one of the Cinque Ports behind us and head home.

However, en route, I did suggest that Stephanie stop at Winchelsea, a lovely little village only two miles away whose white wooden sidings are rather reminiscent of New England and of Connecticut’s seaside villages (such as my own Southport), in particular. Though light was fading fast and the evening had turned chilly, both Steph and Llew were so taken by the churchyard with its half-ruined church facade that they decided to pay a visit inside (only to find it locked) and to stroll through the daffodil-filled front yard.

Ten minutes later, we were racing back towards Richmond, but not before remarking upon the huge masses of daffodils we saw everywhere. Indeed, England’s soil just seems to pop up in the spring in the warmest of yellows as these lovely frilly-headed flowers make their presence felt all over the country.

Back in Richmond, Steph invited us to tour her new flat and was pleased to know that we loved every aspect of it–from its convenient location to the station, to the fireplace in her living room, to the lovely spacious bathroom and the ample closet space that I liked most of all. Because it had already grown dark, we did not linger long in the town, though I was eager for Llew to catch a glimpse of Richmond Green and the famous theater where I have been seeing so many shows lately.

Then, we were kissing Stephanie goodbye and hopping on the Tube to get back home to Holborn. It had been a long and rather tiring day and we were quite fatigued. I needed to prepare for my Monday classes while Llew relaxed at home with the news on TV and after a very light sandwich dinner, the two of us called it a day. I was very pleased that both Llew and Stephanie liked Rye so much and I was glad that despite his rather short stay in England, Llew had managed to see one of my favorite parts of the country.