No. 11: Dunwich

This week I consulted the bucket list. It’s been an ambition of mine to stay in a Shepherds hut for a while and since it was my birthday last week, I splashed out for my girlfriend, puppy and I to stay here:

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(I still didn’t buy a map though!)

Obviously this is a tin hut and the ‘Beast From The East’ made a resurgence in the form of the, creatively named, ‘Mini Beast’ this weekend. However this had nothing on the wood-burner that this bad boy was kitted out with – I had to open the window because I was so toasty – take that Siberia! (sorry global warming).

The main issue we had was the world outside of the Shepherds Hut, it just wasn’t that appealing to the puppy – but it’s character building to get out of your comfort zone so we dragged him out for a walk anyway, from Middleton down to the seafront at Dunwich (almost).

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The walk was really pretty, kind of bleak and (again) so flat! I accidentally booked us in to stay about ten miles away from Orford (last week) and, unbelievably, next to a village called Yoxford!!! I’ve done some extra research for next weekend and I’m going nowhere near Suffolk or anywhere O*ford related!!

On the plus side, the landscape got more and more lovely the further we walked – this freshly hacked-down corn field was a personal highlight.

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The corn still tasted good too (kidding).

Carrying on from these desecrated husks, I had to sweep up the puppy in my arms when we came to some large puddles – he doesn’t do water very well, a rogue wave on Brighton beach saw to that last November. I’ll be working on that once it gets a bit warmer.

But for now – look at his little face!

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Shortly after this, the wind really picked up and I caved in at the sight of the puppy’s little legs shivering like brittle chicken thighs so I did the unthinkable… Turned back before we had reached the Sea!

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That evening we stopped in for dinner at the ‘Bell Inn’ in Middleton – it was OK – good fish and chips and only 5 minutes walk from the hut, which you can book HERE. Neill, the host, was fantastic. He loved the puppy and left us with a generous breakfast basket that saw us through the weekend and was topped off with what might be the best flapjacks I have ever had – everything was well thought out and we were sad to fold away the bed for the last time on Sunday.

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Obviously we couldn’t leave without seeing the sea, so we drove (cheated) our way down to Dunwich, through Westleton – which has not one, but two second hand book shops and a vinyl store, as well as maybe five houses – bizarre.

The puppy didn’t last long on the beach so my wonderful girlfriend packed him back into the car and gave me five minutes, which I used to stand facing out to the north sea while the ‘mini beast’ hammered me with fresh, fresh air. After filling my lungs, I creaked my frozen fingers back around the cars steering wheel and we set off for home.

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Rosy cheeked and smug!

 

 

 

 

5 thoughts on “No. 11: Dunwich

  1. Dunwich, you say?

    Since the tail end of the O*ford model of destination picking coincided with the Mutated Sea Monster of Orford, are we to understand that you’re now into tracking down Lovecraftian Horrors?

    Liked by 1 person

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