By the skate park
Take a walk past Tony Hawk
To mark the stones
Deployed like props from Game of Thrones

Emerging dripping from the Gipping long ago
Ten feet tall and trickling tears
These sarsens had been pickling down below
For 60 million years

Formed by forces sedimentary
Rugged, rough, and rudimentary
The rocks are marred with crude graffiti
But really hard like Kevin Beattie

— Ipswich winter solstice entries for 2025 | 2024 | 2023 | 2022 | 2021

Remember, remember, the 5th of December, five years ago, 2020?
Never dreamed it would close
Our Little Waitrose
Adored by the 'Swich cognoscenti.

In a long distant era -- way before Keira -- every weekend I'd head out
Doing circuits like Senna
Aware that my tenner
Would get me a Guardian for nowt.

With much talk of Brexit, they made a sharp exit
Life in the time of the Covid.
Deemed a lost cause
"We'll be closing our doors"
Well, everything changes, said Ovid.

Right, I thought, I did those extra hours on Wednesday so I'll take the afternoon off on Thursday: nice nice nice. Made a mental plan to sign off at 1pm, meet Andy for lunch nearby, then bike over to Woodbridge and occupy a warm seat in another cafe for a couple of hours, staring into the distance. I know just the place, I told Andy. Four minutes before hitting shutdown, 12:56, he texted to say "I'm inside table one see you soon". Sort-ed.

Place opened a few months back, I'd told him, as mentioned on the local BBC news; just hope they're still going. I reached 21 Young Hearts about 13:05, and there were signs of life everywhere: in fact, said Andy, speaking between mouthfuls of meaty bap, it was packed when he arrived. Which is all very lovely 'cos they're doing great work here with their mission "to empower young individuals with disabilities by providing them with meaningful employment opportunities" (bit like the old Town Hall Tea Room and the St Lawrence centre to name but two).

Star of the show is young Kyle who's not only splashed over the front window but humble enough to chalk up my sausage & bacon bap, banana Yazoo and bag of sea salt crisps. Cheers, fella. We're right next to Duncans Bakery, BTW, where I note we had very similar all-day breakfast lunches way back in 2011. Inside is abuzz. Seems like they've already established the community hub they'd hoped for.

There's a tip-top selection of sweet treats including puffy mince pies, Christmas gingerbread, lemon drizzle loaf, funfetti (!) cookies, carrot cake, and Victoria sponge. Top-left, though, is shouting out to me: it's the Old School Cake, a slab o' sponge with white icing covered with 100s & 1000s. Yes, please! With no chai latte available, Andy joins me in a flat white but of the decaf variety, unlike mine. Window lettering reads "Good Coffee / Great People / Big Hearts". Amen to that.

If it was a car -- Danacol Heart Car.
If they were passing by -- Candi Staton.

Would be a nice change for Andy the motorist, I reflected, if I could find an unvisited lunch spot in The 'Swich with free parking and minimal walk, especially since the very rainiest rain was forecast. No, that's inaccurate and paints me in a rose-hued light. Was actually Andy himself who requested "easy parking to avoid the rain". Memory, eh? I can smile at the old days.

But definitely my suggestion to head into the Bird Cage (as we used to call it in the CB days). I was on the two wheels, of course, and cycled past long gone Gwydyr Road to the site of the old Royal Showground to arrive around 2:20pm. Gosh, these lunches have got later and later lately. My four-wheeled companion beat me by a couple of mins and was visible in the window of Cafe Chantry -- classy curly lettering -- where the old newsagent used to live. Note that we'd been here back in September 2024 when it was called Barla's: never written up since it was due a major refurb, though the poached eggs were good.

More or less got the place to ourselves, given the weird time. Not a problem. Signage out front talks of Breakfast-Lunch-Dinner (left) and Panini-Baguettes-Sandwiches (right). From the suspiciously length menu we go for egg/bacon/chips/beans, my occasional treat, and sausage & bacon panini, neither of us obviously concerned for our health. May as well have the fizz too, the decaf Rio for him, the medicinally recommended Dr Pepper for me.

Five minutes to admire the greenery pinned to the wall and the illustrated images of London then here's our plates o' fuel: oh yes. Super friendly service, smiles all round, and more than happy to fetch him a slab of choc fudge and me a lump of carrot cake, 'cos YOLO. Swirly choc sauce a nice touch. And, as per our previous visit, my flat white was excellent. I'll be going back.

If it was a car -- Nissan Bluebird.
If they were passing by -- Tony Hawk.

"Got a table," I texted Andy at 14:31 on a nondescript Friday afternoon. He's recently returned from Sweden where he was scanned good & proper a full year after his big stem cell op. There's more patches of red and yellow on the images he shows me, and that augurs well, though it didn't help him locate the new caff directly opposite The Regent.

Gave him a menu and told him I'd pre-ordered the £35 Cataplana a Algarvia, aka the seafood stew. Not really, I said. Laminated sheet before us doesn't have a sarnie in sight. Transpires that Golden Coffee is perhaps more for those with a bit of an appetite, offering a choice of peixe (fish), carne (meat) and burgers & omelettes (you do the translation). We're very much in the Ipswichian part of the Iberian peninsula. He goes for the francesinha while I opt for cheese & ham omelette: let's share.

Ten years back we sampled the lunchtime delights of Flavours Of Portugal at number 4, St Helen's Street. Now, with the demise of Masons Estate Agents on the corner, and very much in the spirit of Vasco da Gama, they've expanded their empire. Kitchen's on one side, half a dozen tables are on the other, and I've landed a dream spot right under the big telly: yes, they're happy to turn it down, no problem.

Here's my plate-sized omelette and some fluffy crinkle (not crankle) cut chips, and here's his mega-bowl comprising a toasted sausage & steak sandwich in some sort of sauce encircled by his own portion of fries. He's trying to cut it in half, hacking his way through like Henry Morton Stanley, and has just about finished when the lady appears with a sharp knife. You like food? she asks. Is from northern Portugal. Yes, we say, very good. I'm well aware of my 4pm appointment at the dental hygienist: travel toothbrush is in my tote. Decent espresso to finish, and we are absolutely finished.

If it was a car -- UMM Alter 2000.
If they were passing by -- Nelly Furtado.

Q: in 2018 how excited was I to hear that Pret intended to open in Ipswich?
A: very excited.
Q: in 2019 how exasperated was I to hear that Pret pulled out?
A: very exasperated.
Q: in 2022 how amused was I to see a Pret logo in Ipswich and then again?
A: very amused.

So, no Pret, not yet. But at least that familiar Pret deep red branding has finally gone from the Cornhill with the most welcome arrival of rival chain Jamaica Blue in the old Grimwades shop. They offer "classics with a twist" according to their site. And I should say I'd already had a couple of commendable coffee 'n' cakes in there before meeting the boy Andy for a late light lunch. Which works well for him, car-wise, since there's flat rate parking at Franciscan Way after 14:00.

Somewhat sunny stroll up past Cafe Myra and Central Canteen and Honey & Harvey and into a buzzin' super central Jamaica Blue: opened July 2025, BTW. Needing the loo, Andy spends nineteen nanoseconds deciding on his order, the £14 bang-bang burger with chips, and a berry smoothie, please. Lucky that one of us is still earning, eh? Might as well treat myself to the gyros in Yorkshire pudding, that traditional Greek/Leeds combo, and a key lime smoothie, please. Half an hour later, at our decent table with the decent view of the downtown 'Swich, I was digesting and helping him to finish his chips since he's meant to be cutting down the carbs. All good, never mind.

There's some very positive talk of outcomes from his stem cell treatment, another reason for indulging in some shared raspberry matcha cake and cream. This despite Andy drowning in home-grown raspberries. We're absently staring at the Cornhill water spouts when an August downpour kicks in: summer's nearly over, kids. Jamaica Blue will more than do.

If it was a car -- Island Cruiser.
If they were passing by -- Don Letts.

Like Broadway in the 2010s, Hamilton remains the big name in Felixstowe. Second, like Southwold in the 1930s, is possibly Orwell. We're talking roads, of course, specifically the A1021 that joins Garrison Lane in the west to Ranelagh Road in the east. Should you need evidence of time passing, try finding previously visited eateries along Orwell Road such as Comptons or Lillie's or Sangha or Silks.

Yet they keep coming, the latest being the floral Little Dreams which replaced the veritable Polish Hut mid 2024. Andy's nabbed a nice spot on Inspector Brownlow Road: that free hour will easily be enough, right? We're all set to sit outside on their solitary table-for-two when spots become free inside, a nifty window seat with a full frontal view of the Greenhouse Cafe.

Chocka in here with sketches of sweet treats on the wall. Time to order drinks at the counter first, so that'll be a medicinal cherry Dr Pepper for Andy and a fruity Tango Mango (a play on the 1971 album by Can?) for me. Yes, we're that sophisticated. There's more than one unfortunate apostrophe on view -- "jacket potato's" / "panini's" -- but we'll let that go. Half-hour wait on food, says the slightly harassed woman, if that's OK? That'll be fine, I say, and return to a seated position.

Great to have a catch-up after a few weeks. We've mostly caught up by the time the drinks arrive, and scratching around a bit when the same woman approaches our table to say she's now preparing our lunch. The girl who'd taken my order had to leave at 2pm for another job leaving only one poor person to do the lot. Into that second hour when food thankfully appears, and it's decent: chunky coronation chicken sandwich for YT and, unsurprisingly, the all-day breakfast bap (item number one on the menu) including hash brown for The Yorkshire Lad.

Now into our second hour and, with one of us due back in the office, there ain't no time to use their ice cream factory. Splending cake selection, though: takeaway flat white finished on the return journey before I very much enjoyed my white choc brownie in my ergonomic swivel chair.

If it was a car -- 2016 DS from Dreams Car, Slough.
If they were passing by -- Gabrielle.