EDitorial ± 1-Oct-2002

Aldeburgh WC

Say it's a nice sunny day, perhaps nearing the end of the summer. Say you're approaching Aldeburgh, that classy seaside town on the Suffolk coast, merrily pootling along in the motor. Say you're accompanied by your children. Say that middle child, aged five, proclaims herself to "need a wee", badly. Then you'll appreciate knowing that the public toilets are on the High Street next to the chippy.

Granted this is not a fact that's likely to save your life. End-of-level bonus: there's more than one purveyor of cooked potato products on the main drag. Don't be tempted to aim for the one on the corner that always attracts a queue; that way lies madness and frustration. Go for the Golden Galleon, facing tourist information, and cut down the lane. Ah, that's better.

L'enfant, qui ne s'appelle pas Walter, au bord de la mer

Contemplated doing the stretch of coastline along to Thorpe Ness, but the shadows were lengthening and I'd stupidly brought my wallet...leaving the Switch card and cash at home on the shelf, and with zero change in my pockets. Not often do I pass an ice cream & cappuccino kiosk, full stop.

I know people whose idea of fun
Is throwing stones in the river in the afternoon sun
— Billy Bragg, The Warmest Room

Still, some inexpensive entertainment to be had chucking pebbles in the sea, remembering not to stand to the side of or in front of the boy, aged two. Even the middle one (no longer needing to go) joined in once she'd been reassured that the chance of a tidal wave hitting the beach was minimal. Could have sworn she was in bed when we watched Deep Impact.

Be seeing you!