Saturday, July 23, 2016

It’s a big pile of cold, slimy, naked mussels.

Saturday, July 23rd, 2016
Hastings, UK / Rye, UK

It’s about 9am BST and I am settling in to this time zone nicely. After a wonderful night’s sleep I crawl out of bed to make my American coffee using a French press that I found in my AirBnB kitchen. All week I have been enjoying the effects of jet lag by waking up early and drinking coffee while watching Good Morning Brittan. This morning, however, I have missed the news and the only thing on TV is Murder She Wrote. It’s okay though, the TV is mostly background noise while I sip my coffee and stare out of the window at the English Channel. My AirBnB flat is truly beautiful.

After 2 episodes of Murder She Wrote, I decide to start my day, which will include brunch and a day trip to Rye. I grab my purse and current reading material (Hothouse, by Brian Aldiss) and head down to Old Town. There are a slew of open-air restaurants next to the sea selling all sorts of yummy seafood. I do a few laps before I find one that is not too crowded (but also not too empty). I sit at a small table on the sidewalk and decide on a breakfast of fresh mussels, chips, and Stella Artois (I am so into Hastings right now!).

About 10 minutes later when my food arrives I am surprised to learn that the mussels are served chilled and have already been removed from their shells. It’s a big pile of cold, slimy, naked mussels. It’s a little gross but it’s also okay since beer and french fries make everything better.

From brunch I start the arduous task of finding the main train station in Hastings. After about 20 minutes, I am finally successful. The train to Rye leaves in about 30 minutes. It’s a nice day, so I head outside to wait on the platform. The train station is very small, but it's still not clear which platform I need to stand on. I make my best guess and sit down to read and intermittently play Pokemon. About 10 minutes before the scheduled time, a train pulls up to the platform opposite of me. There is no way that is the train to Rye.

Shit. That was the train to Rye. 

I go back into the station to figure out what to do next. The next train is 45 minutes away. Double shit. I’m already committed to going to Rye today, so I decide to sit and wait. Besides the Pokemon are not going to catch themselves.

Approximately 3 chapters of Hothouse and 4 Pokemon later the next train to Rye arrives, right on time. I successfully board and arrive in Rye 20 minutes later.

Rye is cute and small. The streets are old cobblestone and are very narrow and winding. It’s filled with teeny tiny antique stores and ice cream shops. I feel like a giant here.

I don’t really have a plan so I walk around looking at antiques. There are multiple reasons why I will not buy any antiques here, but I really want to experience Rye and this seems to be the thing to do. After about 30 minutes of shopping I am bored. I buy some overpriced ice cream and sit on a bench to look at the sea.

Around 4:30pm all of the stores are starting to close and the streets are clearing out. I do a few searches on my iPhone on attractions in Rye and cannot find anything else to do. I am starting to wonder why my co-workers sent me here.

Around 5pm I give up and head back to the train station. I end up waiting another 20 minutes for the train.


Back in Hastings I walk to my flat and feel inexplicably exhausted. I decide to order in (King Kabob is getting to know me by now) and continue binge-watching Bloodline. I can not help but feel that today was unfulfilling, but then again all days can’t be winners.

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