We move on. Rooms are plastered, some paint is up. Floors are going in.
Outside the pergola has experienced a before and after. A new brick pillared structure will replace it to support several solar panels.
And a new small path crossing a bed is in and things are beginning to welcome in 2026.
It’s all very exciting.
I don’t know about you but it’s been pretty bloody grim weather wise. I don’t usually reach for Scottish vernacular but dreich sums it up nicely.
What to do? Reorganise my sock drawer? Sharpen my extensive collection of HB pencils?
No, walk around Southwold from the water towers by the golf club, cross the marshes, splosh through the harbour, stopping only to buy some hot smoked salmon and return by way of the sunken path.
Hood up, audio book plugged in and only my nose exposure it was rather splendid.
Maybe you can form your own views.
Stage one: water towers to river Blyth
Stage two: the harbour and the river
Stage three the return path.
Sometimes a walk is like hitting your head with a stick. It’s better when it’s over.
Another day, another delightful Suffolk town. It has one of those celebrity claims as the home town of Ed Sheeran one of whose sings references the Norman castle. Apparently. Go have a look, or listen, if you’re interested.
Me, I was more taken with the town’s medieval backstory. Starting in the market square, my path wandered past an assortment of attractive houses, St Michael the Archangel’s Church.
Next after came this neat mural
and the madly gushing river Ore which popped up on a few occasions though the recent rains turned a cute tributary into a crazy mud coloured monster.
The town is full of independent shops and cafes. It passed the Textiliste’s badge of quality with a haberdashery too.
Leaving the retail part and its mural behind, I passed the somewhat sombre United Reform church and headed across the Fens.
Once upon a time this town had a railway and the Victorian station house has been repurposed while the Railway tavern still serves weary travellers of a different kind.
I passed this curio, Tomb House which seems to be a normal domestic property with its own front garden mauseoleum.
Skirting back round into the centre via a warren of small passages I headed for the highlight.
No, not the Two Mapies cafe but the Norman castle. It’s open at weekends so I will have to return but some of the grounds were open for a muddy wander. It’s pretty special – yes, Ed is right to celebrate it.
From there it was but a short hop past an ancient 1860s post box and a welcome coffee and bagel. It’s essential to refuel, you know.
Later, because he doesn’t deserve to be neglected, I took Dog to the beach, though by this time is was effing freezing. He didn’t seem to care.
Plastering upstairs is done. A white coat covers several rooms and doors are on. On the ground floor the insulation under floor is done in two out of four rooms and plastering is underway. The kitchen remains a mess but the box will appear in the next two weeks when it can be surveyed by the kit hen fitters. Meanwhile we can bring in the wardrobe fitters and sort out some carpets and flooring in the attic and the bathrooms.
It’s all rather encouraging.
Have a scroll through the images to give you a sense of progress.
We left off at the church. From the grand portico and narrow set of steps lead through a narrow passage to the market square. The route I took passed more of the beautifully preserved houses I explored last time. I also showed the carvings of kings on the side of the Kings Head pub. They are worth a repeat. You may want to expand the picture to consider the delightfully unflattering detail.
Now above the river my route took me to an old windmill, Buttrum’s Mill, a beautiful brick structure opposite the private boys’ school, with its stunning brick boundary wall. At the rather severe House of Corrections, there is a narrow set of steps that lead to some narrow streets.
Amongst the houses there’s a converted Baptist church that stands out. This lane leads to the market square with its old fountain and market hall. Another church St John’s interrupts the route to the river and from there back to the station.
It’s a beautiful town and worthy of a stroll. I meandered down the high street, though I was on the phone at the time so the images are lacking. I can say the shops were quirkily independent and local and attractive if that is your schtick. Me, cake and coffee do me.
But I will go back.
I’ve meant to get to Woodbridge for sometime. And then, when I did, my phone died so I had to return.
Woodbridge is near Ipswich and was named the happiest place to live in Britain at the end of 2024. Which maybe a great accolade or an inditement of how miserable everywhere else is.
It’s full of beautiful houses, many harking back to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, it has a well known private school and prep and it sits on the river Deben so has a watery embellishment too.
And while I didn’t visit this time it isn’t far from Sutton Hoo one of the great archaeological discoveries of the last century.
Indeed, one has to ask: what’s not to like.
Today I arrived by train from where I’m currently living and stepped out of the station on a bright cold day. I stress the cold.
Next to the station is a small early twentieth century Electric cinema that was restored a while back and from there it was into the heart of its beautiful streets.
The other thing to note are the number of pubs, a considerable number in fact given so many have closed in the last 30 years or so. Not it seems in Woodbridge where its citizens are doing their best to shore up a lively drinking culture.
Maybe they need to be somewhere to keep out of the cold.
Having enjoyed the variety of frontages including a curio of a wall based shadow clock, a strange kind of sundial, and several blue plaques announcing some historic links to these properties to well known (and not so well known) people, I arrived at this tall brick wall with a small wooden door in the centre.
Inside was a small tranquil little space. This was originally a grave yard for the Quakers, whose House of Friends was next door.
Beyond this the route took me to the church, yet another splendid edifice with beautiful stained glass and a porch adorned with magnificent carvings.
The tour will pause now, with part two shortly.
As you’ll know we are basing ourselves in Suffolk while house is reno’ed. Opening the back door the land falls away across a meadow before reaching the flood plain through which the River Blyth snakes. When it floods at this time of year it can be covered in thousands of migrating birds.
Beyond the river plain the land climbs across scrub and farmland before reaching the village of Wenhaston.
And the views, the sunrises and sets, the fog and snow all combine to great some rather special vistas. See what you think.
Apparently Britain’s coastline, apart from being very long, mostly cold and visually splendid is home to forty percent of the world’s grey seal population. And a stretch from the Suffolk-Norfolk border going north is one such spot.
Now if you ask me seals are a sea mammal somewhat short of a sardine or two because they think having a breeding season from November to January is pretty neat. I suppose, when you think any predator with its canines screwed. in would be away in the Azores it has a kind of sense. That and a baby seal can gain some two kg of fat in a day when suckling which suggests they’ve made themselves literally as well as metaphorically cool.
These days it’s a pretty popular tourist gig to go and spot a seal or two though to be fair, given these enormous happy faced sea monsters are around in their hundreds during the season it’s not that hard. This season alone the seal wardens who marshall the closed beaches have logged over 3000 pups which is pretty neat, an Elon Musk level of procreation, though with more fat and less ego.
The three of us – Textiliste, Dog and me – took the hour drive north on a sparkling and neck crucnchingly cold day to have a gander at what the fuss was about. Dogs on leads were welcome though the thoughtful and experienced marshalls keep everyone at least 100 yards away. Recently they’ve had a fair few numpties seeking up close and personal selfies with seal pups. God save me from morons.
I know this is a holiday period, this Twixmas or Crimbo-limbo or whatever you call the dead time between Christmas Day and New Year’s Day but I was surprised at both the numbers coming to this isolated spot and the range of accents we heard. Rather lovely actually, especially as everyone was good tempered and happily accepted the voluntary edicts to keep off the sand.
That was yesterday. Today we took Dog for a short beach stroll. The sky creates some lovely light at this time of year – when it’s not one of those dirty duvet canopies that December thru February can throw up.
Today was one such and led to a rather spiffing sunset later.
We are now hunkered down under blankets, snoozing in 2026. Hope it’s a good one for one and all.
Dog and the rest of us send our best.
A little cautionary tale
Good King Wences last looked out, in twenty twenty-three,
Since then his eyesight's all to pot, it's very hard to see.
He asked his serf, 'What should I do; I'm walking into walls?'
The serf replied, 'You'll need an op, if you have the balls.'
The goodly king did fear the thought,
of going beneath the knife,
He did what every wisemen does, 'I think I'll ask the wife.'
'Don't be silly, my liege lord,' opined that sagely spouse.
'No one wants a bat'eyed king, who's oft inclined to grouse.'
Hieing hence to see the doc, thirsty for his knowledge,
The king explained what brought him there,'All I see is porridge.'
The doc was good, the op the tops, all was rather splendid.
A proclamation was sent forth, 'The king, he is quite mended.'
Now the king can look out, everything is crystal,
Once again he takes pot shots, at the peasants with his pistol.
Ok, so the house has turned a corner and it’s moving into the ‘oh exciting’ phase from the ‘what have we done?’ Phase.
The top two floors are now wired, mostly plumbed and plastered.
The new stairs to the attic are in and the balustrade, spindles and glass fire doors measured and on order. The window sills and skirting boards are next and then architraves around the doors.
The ground floor is more of a mess still though we do have a box where the new downstairs toilet will go. The kitchen though resembles a bomb site and the walls need insulating as does under the floors.
We have seen half the solar go on the roof and active discussions on digging up the top lawn and installing water tanks continue.
I’m still coming to terms with the myriad of decisions we need to make and we’ve visited wardrobe makes, tilers, chimney piece installers and goodness knows how many on line vendors of door furniture, light switches, wall papers, kitchen makers, bathroom suppliers….
The garden, meanwhile is resting and looking really rather fine by comparison. There are some plans here for some minor changes and a lot of bulbs and seeds to go down to have some colour when, eventually we return.
Phew.
I think I will take a bit of a break until the New Year and wish all my readers a splendid break, a happy holidays and a splendid dash into 2026.
TanGental 