Rye

Today, I was off to Rye. London and Sussex Walking Tours - whom I joined during lockdown - ran a daytrip! called Rye - Pirates, Ports and Jazz (they also have a jazz festival this weekend): and I'd never been. It's a bit of a palaver to get to, involving two trains - but well, it's about time I travelled a bit, and it wasn't not too early a start. And the tour itself ended early in the day, so I had plenty of time to eat and explore before my train(s) back.

Yeah, so you can guess what happened.. well, first off, I had a nice, long sleep, which I needed. This was good. The morning then got away from me - as it tends to do - and of course, I hadn't factored in that not only did I need to walk to St. Pancras, but I needed to collect my tickets (British trains in general not yet being technologically sophisticated enough to issue e-tickets, like the rest of the world), and of course, find my platform. The place is - massive. And yes, my platform was right at the other end. Oh, and would you like to guess how much I missed the train by? Two minutes. Of course, it didn't help that I ran the wrong way after I collected the tickets..

Well now, it was an hour till the next. And looking at the ticket, I realised that it was time-specific - so I had to buy a new outbound ticket. Ah well, at least I had time to do it! Also messaged the group to apologise, but I'd missed my train and would now be late. At least I checked my details for the second leg, and those tickets weren't time-specific, so I was OK. £36.50, I paid for a single to Ashford International (so called because it's on the Eurostar line). Bah humbug - but I didn't want to lose my entire day. I was also parched, so bought a small bottle of water from W. H. Smith. Whose price was a complete mystery to me, as were the prices of every bottle on the shelf - so much for transparent pricing. And then I went and sat staring at the platform I was to go from.

When the last train before mine had departed from that platform, I decided I could go and sit on the platform itself - just to be safe. And.. my ticket wouldn't open the barrier. Say what?! I tried it a couple of times - no joy. Panicking now, I realised what had probably happened - my ticket said it wasn't valid on high-speed trains, but this might be a high-speed train. (Yup - there was a sign at the barrier that said "Southeastern High Speed".) Now, please tell me - how does a machine allow you to buy a non-high-speed ticket to a high-speed train stop?!

My first thought was to go to the ticket office and try just to get an upgrade - the queue was so long that I'd have missed this train as well though, which was ridiculous. Instead, I ended up buying yet another single ticket! Now, I don't travel by train in the UK much - and am glad of it, with experiences like this - and I had no idea which of the ticket options were valid on high-speed trains! It didn't say, for any of them. The "HS1 Upgrade" option sounded promising, but turned out to be for London transfers, or something. So my next thought - thinking fast here, I had minutes to catch my train - was to get the most expensive option. But that was first class, which didn't sound right - so I plumped for the next most expensive, which was an "anytime" single, £6 more expensive than my first purchase, an "off-peak" single. Sure enough, when that was printed, I was relieved to see that it said "also valid on high-speed". FFS, how are people supposed to know this stuff..? Anyway, I galloped for the train, and dashed on just as the guy blew the whistle. And when the crowd of other latecomers in front of me moved down, I even got a couple of seats to myself..

I was still traumatised when I arrived in Ashford - and seriously underwhelmed by this "international" station. Jeez, I know I was now outside of London, but really - I had to exit to collect my tickets to Rye, and the lobby consisted of two ticket machines, a few ticket desks, and a Costa. And a couple of rows of seats. And that's it. Hmm - well, I collected my tickets - and what a palaver that always is, because you have to have your payment card, and your collection reference number, and they make you take out your card before you type in the number, so you're trying to hold everything.. including all the tickets, and the receipt, when they're printed! And of course, a return is printed as two separate tickets. I've always hated physically collecting train tickets - nothing about that has improved since I began doing it.

So then I looked for where I was to catch my train to Rye - and it said there was a rail replacement bus. Oh, for heaven's sake.. I hadn't noticed that at first, and when I had, had checked, but it was the best alternative, as there isn't otherwise a direct bus at all, so it'd take forever. Said it was to go from outside, and I overheard a worker tell another customer roughly where from. I had a look in Costa first to see whether there was anything I could grab - I had twenty minutes or so. I don't really like Costa, and sure enough, the only things that looked appealing were toasties - which I didn't want to have to wolf down, and couldn't take on the bus. So I went hungry.

The bus appeared in due course - double decker. I joined the other passengers on the top deck, to see the scenery. Honestly though, there isn't much scenery around here that would impress me - it's near the sea, and all very flat. Lots of fields, quite a lot of trees, some sheep, some bales of hay. Some of the flattest land I've ever seen, and I have to say I'm biased towards hills. And the road was most unsuited to our bus - very bumpy, and we frequently had branches scrape the roof. It was a relief, finally, to get to Rye - we squeezed through narrow streets, and past picturesque houses: and at one point, passed what was obviously a walking group, and I did wonder, as mine were supposed to have started by now - but these looked more serious hikers, many with rucksacks and one with walking poles. And nowhere did I see anyone that looked like the group leader, whose face I had seen online.

We were finally disgorged at the station, and I left a message on the group page, pleading for someone to tell me where they were. No response yet, of course. Laurence, this guide is not. Well, I said, I'm not traipsing around town searching for them - I was hungry, so I went in search of food. Nothing decent by the station, so I set off - and that walking group passed me on the way, heading in the other direction. Seemed to be led by a bearded chap, looked nothing like the guy I was looking for. Anyway, I thought the Pipemaker's Arms looked attractive - and they had a sign that said they did a BBQ until 3 - so I went in.

Lovely, big space - quite empty, apart from a couple of flies. Hmm. Someone came out from the back - she looked like staff, so I asked her were they doing food now? Yes, she said, the specials were on the board around the corner to the back. And there they were - again, not a long menu, but adequate - I dithered between the burger and the garlic chicken, eventually went for the latter. And chips. She really tried to push the coleslaw on me, said I could have it for free, but I just don't like coleslaw with hot food. I guess they had a quantity of it left over. Ah well. A New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc was a lovely touch! There were tables out the back, but I didn't fancy squinting in the sun, so sat inside.

It was served quickly - and oh wow, it was gorgeous! There wasn't much chicken - well, for £5.50 I hadn't expected much - but it was so succulent, the skin lovely and crispy. Two thighs, I had, with chips - and the chips were lovely too, presalted. I wolfed it down! Best thing I did today, really.

Afterwards, I headed in search of sightseeing.. decided to head up to the castle, which took me up Mermaid Street. I hadn't realised that this is the most scenic street in Rye, packed with historic buildings.. and would you believe whom I heard on a sidestreet as I climbed up?! The dulcet tones of the tour guide. Huh. So I stalked them, for the last half-hour or so of the tour - well, I had paid! He was wittering on about smugglers - a big theme, here, as the town used to be on the seafront. I have to say, he has a terrible voice for leading a walk - very weak. Anyway, his spiel also included a bit about the Mermaid Inn - apparently the most haunted building in Rye, if not the UK; they have rooms to rent, and it seems there's a different ghost in every one! Well, whatever about that, it sure is a scenic part of town:

His walk finished at the top of the road - and I have to say, I was rather glad I had missed most of it. It just didn't have much in it that interested me, and I couldn't have eaten until after - things worked out better this way. (Oh, and I caught him out on a historical point - it was George III, not George I, who was known as "Farmer George"!) And so I continued to the castle - lordy, those cobbles are uncomfortable to walk on!

Just across from it, I came across the lovely-looking Church of Saint Mary - they do recommend a visit, but at this time, I could hear music from inside: obviously a concert as part of the jazz festival. So I had to pass.

And so, finally, to the castle:

Admission is £4 for adults, and quite a few people were knocking around when I went in - in fact, the town was thronged. Double whammy of the bank holiday weekend and the jazz festival, combined with good weather. Well, I'm glad for the town's economy. I forgot to bring one of their free history fliers, nuts! Anyway, the castle is packed with historical displays - and the first really caught my eye!

There's a war memorial in front of the church, you see, and this used to decorate it! Spectacular. Also a very interesting torture exhibit:

As usual, you should work your way down from the top - which has some great views:

A fascinating, light-up display gives a vivid sense of the history of the place - press the buttons to illuminate different features, such as the coastline in Roman times, and the extent of navigability in Tudor times. And even though I'm not a big fan of military history usually, I had to stop at the display of helmets through the ages:

They also had a replica longbow, so you could try pulling the string - oh crikey, that requires some strength! and a very interesting comparison of the longbow and the crossbow. Elsewhere, a most evocative prie-dieu (kind of a place for private prayer, where the person could kneel):

And so to the Ypres Castle Inn, just around the back, to consider my next move - service was friendly and efficient, and they do have a big beer garden: but again, I didn't want to squint, so sat inside. I was now too late for the other attractions - so decided to head in search of food, to kill time. Which pretty much took me through the rest of the town. This, for example, is the Landgate:

And I have to admit, the town is choc-a-bloc with gorgeous architecture:

But unfortunately, this was dinnertime, and everywhere decent was packed - so I decided to head back to Ashford early, as my ticket there wasn't time-dependent; perhaps I could find somewhere good to eat there. While I was waiting for the rail replacement bus - which picked up around the corner from where we'd earlier been dropped off - I nipped into the public toilets. Which have the most curiously aligned instructions:

I have to say, the rail replacement system in Rye was chaos. All the buses had a sign for Hastings on them, a whole army of us wanted to go to Ashford - eventually, the lady in charge triaged it, and diverted one of the buses to Ashford. As one of the drivers said to her - was she sure it was to be a single-decker? Yes, she said firmly. And when she told us we could get on that one - there was a scramble for it. I got a seat, but it was completely packed, including standing room. At least the journey was less bumpy than the outward trip!

When I got off in Ashford - it was freezing! And as for eating - the Costa was closed, and there was nothing open nearby that interested me - a Turkish restaurant, but I didn't feel like Turkish, and an Italian: but I didn't like their menu either. The local fast-food places were exclusively takeaways. I ended up buying a sandwich and chocolate in the local filling station, and eating them in the lobby of the train station, staring at the departures board, and waiting impatiently for the train I had to take. I left it as late as possible to go up on the platform - sure enough, it was freezing. And to finish the day, with my phone battery nearly dead, I dozed all the way back to London.

Tomorrow, thinking of film - and with the film listings finally out, and rejecting the iffy-looking Indian films at the top, what it's looking like is M, a 1931 thriller set in Germany about the hunt for a murderer. Only showing in the BFI, which has a tendency to sell out - this isn't yet, but I'll have to keep an eye on it. Still, it is in the large screen, so I'll probably be ok.

On Tuesday, I'm back with TAC - for a play called Angel, in the Hope Theatre. Based on the true story of the "Angel of Kobane", a young woman who fought against the encroaching forces of Islamic State. This is the final part of an "Arabian Nightmares" trilogy of plays by Henry Naylor.

And on Wednesday - assuming I'm not working by then, I've signed up to another of Laurence's walks: The Lady-Killer is an inventive renaming of London's most notorious serial killer.. (Ooh, and I'll have to get cash out again.) Failing that, if I have to work (sadly, a necessary evil eventually), I can always head back to the Soho Comedy Factory that evening.. (Be aware, Design My Night sells tickets to this for £5, but you can show up for free..!)