British Isles - Day 7

 Today’s train journey was a little disappointing. I suppose it was an omen, in a way, for some other disappointments to follow. It isn’t to say the day was bad, just not quite what I had been expecting. I still had a good time.

I arrived at the train station a bit early, but transportation is one of the (admittedly few) things that I really don’t want to be late to, and waiting a bit on the platform is far preferable to stressing about catching the train at the last moment. Trouble first started when fifteen minutes before departure the boards still didn’t show a platform number. Then the time changed to the ominous word “Delayed”. Not a new estimate, as it showed for some others, simply that it was late. A station attendant let me, and a fellow concerned passenger know that it was simply an issue of another train being in the way. A few minutes later the platform was announced and we were on our way just six minutes behind schedule. Unlike the train to Canterbury, this was not a high speed line and the trip took about an hour and a half. I had both my laptop and my kindle, so I used that time well.

I arrived at Hastings just after 10:00, in time for all the tourist attractions to open. After a brief stop at the information center for a map, I headed off to the castle. Correction- I headed to what was left of the castle. Initially William the Conqueror had built a wooden fort on that spot after landing in the British Isles, above the town of Haestingas. To do so quickly, he actually had it partially built in Normandy prior to departure. Then, when he crossed the Channel, the large components were quickly assembled. After he finished taking over the country, the Norman, and by that point English too, king awarded loyal knights with land and castles. Hastings became a connection point between London and Normandy, so the wooden fort was replaced by a stone castle. This time period is outlined in part of the Bayeux Tapestry.

Subsequent kings continued to fortify it. However, the castle was built by the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. While that makes strategic sense, it also caused the downfall of the castle, and I mean this in the most literal sense. A long series of storms in the 13th century eroded the cliff enough to make it collapse, dropping a large portion of the fortress into the ocean below. It was fortified, but after Hastings was burned by the French in the Hundred Years War and the harbor sediments moved enough to make it impassable to larger ships, the fort was abandoned by the army. A small fishing village and a monastic school remained. During Henry VIII’s war on Catholicism, the religious center was shut down and left to decay. It wasn’t until the 19th century, that excavations began. Then another cliff collapse took even more of the fort down. Ultimately, the ruins opened as a museum and a worthwhile destination. 

This is the sort of history that I’d come to Hastings to see. I hadn’t done my due diligence and so I was completely unaware that the city had focused on developing a resort-like atmosphere. Bars, cafes, antiques shops, and even an amusement park line the seaside. It slightly reminded me of Provincetown, MA, but a bit less jolly if you know what I mean. There is a time and a place for such a destination. But why turn a rich historical site, with evidence of populations from Neolithic peoples, Romans, the Norman invaders, etc. into a resort? 

Next to the castle’s remains there was an old pub, the Ploughman’s Inn where this weary traveler stopped for a local beer and an espresso. The beer, a bitter, was brewed locally, in Sussex. Bitters have less of the powerful hop flavor than an IPA and are more full bodied. I appreciated it, but next time I will probably choose a lighter drink for my mid-day thirst quencher. It was a bit much for the heat. The espresso was great.

Next, in the fishing quarters, there were two small museums- the Fisherman’s Museum, and the Shipwreck Museum. They were nestled between net sheds and the beach. Fairly simple little places, but entertaining in their own right. As for the net sheds- since fishing nets of old were made of organic materials, they would decay if left out for the elements. Storing them inside helped keep them safe. Perhaps it would make sense to return to organic materials again? Plastic netting lost at sea is a significant threat to wildlife, and since it doesn’t break down well, it is a lasting threat. I’m sure that there are intricacies that I don’t know, but just a thought.

Like a good fishing-based town, there is a lot of sea food there. As in an average of more than one fish and chips shop per block. Nestled between them was a small stand offering a lot of fresh and marinated seafoods. I was torn between the shrimp, mussels, octopus, and squid, so I compromised- seafood salad. A chopped up mix of everything they had on offer. With a touch of vinegar it was a great snack. 

Later, as I wandered the streets eating and drinking, I almost bought a spartan-style helmet and a sword at an antique shop. I’m sure that airport security wouldn’t have an issue with those in my carry-on, right? Also, I ran across the True Crime Museum. With nothing better to do, so I went in. A small museum, but the work of someone with a passion for true crimes. Stories of serial killers, their MO’s, and related artifacts comprised the exhibitions. Not what I usually do for fun, but still entertaining.

So I continued to wander about with more eating and drinking. One of the ice cream shops offered an interesting twist on the “99” cone- rather than just vanilla, it was half vanilla and half strawberry. I’ve never seen this combination before (usually mixed soft serves are chocolate and vanilla). And I even remembered to get a photo with the "flake”. Not bad, but strawberry soft serve is odd. Maybe just a matter of habit? The excessive ice crystals didn’t help, I think their machine’s internal temperature was set just a bit too low. 

I made my way to the train station with the goal of sitting at a nearby café for a while. Drink in hand I was going to get settled, when I noticed that the train to London which was supposed to be before mine was canceled. Wanting to check that everything was set with mine, I went up to the ticket desk and inquired. I’ve never seen an agent so desperate to convince me to grab the earliest possible ride, even though it meant departing in just a few minutes. Apparently the risk of my train being canceled was quite high, since he printed out instructions for the three legs of the trip and told me to go immediately. I sure as hell wasn’t going to argue with that. So I went. The first ride and the second were entirely uneventful. The third however, was completely packed. Everyone stood like canned sardines, with barely any elbow room, for the hour-long ride. At least we made it back to London.