Today was a day of 2’s – 2 degrees at 2pm this afternoon which went down to -2 as I was coming back along the Ridge this evening. Despite the cold, it’s been a glorious couple of days with bright blue skies and sunshine, so as it was New Years Day, I decided to make the effort and pop out to Hastings.
Of course, what I hadn’t realised was that the world and his wife had had the same idea, so parking was a bit of a nightmare and I ended up in the same car park where I’d previously been attacked by a mutant seagull – eek.
When you live somewhere, it’s often easy to forget the benefits until you leave and come back to visit. Once I’d neatly side-stepped the freakishly large seagulls, I started snapping away at St. Mary in the Castle.
This magnificent Georgian church, with its unique circular auditorium sits in the middle of a Regency style building which is built into the rock. The auditorium here is famous for its acoustics, and its much under-rated place in my opinion. What is strange is that all the houses look like they have been recently painted a lovely cream colour except for one grey one. One question - why??
I continued towards the castle and my attention was soon diverted by drumming. Was it the effects of a wild and rampant New Years Eve I hear you ask? Sadly not! On the plus side, it was something more exciting than a hangover, as I soon came across a group of madly dressed Pirate type people waving a skull and cross bones and banging various drums rhythmically.
I have no idea who they were or what they were doing, but it was really entertaining nonetheless. They were all dressed in black and red with feathers and skull in their hats, and weird and wonderful shapes painted on their faces. I watched for a while but the wind was bitterly cold so despite the several layers of clothes, I needed to keep moving to save myself from freezing to death!
I’d forgotten how old and interesting the old town is, if you don’t take much notice of the local loonies. For an architecture junkie like me, it was great to wander along and just check out all the different styles arranged in a higgledy piggledy fashion next to one another.
All the shops, restaurants and pubs seem to have names like ‘The Seagull’ and ‘The Mermaid’, and even on a day like today when it was freezing, there were a good variety of accents amongst what were clearly day trippers. It’s a shame that not more of the attractions were open such as the old Customs House.
Smuggling was a huge problem in Hastings like in many coastal towns
'No business carried on in Hastings was more popular and extensive as that of smuggling. Defrauding the revenue, so far from being considered a crime, was looked upon as a laudable pursuit, and the most successful 'runners' were heroes. Nearly the whole of the inhabitants, old and young and of every station in life, were, to some extent, engaged in it.'
The caves (Smugglers Adventure) are definitely worth a visit, but as they were also closed, I had to contend myself with the lifeboat house.
What was interesting about the lifeboat house was that it was a fair distance from the sea – OK, so it was just beach between, but surely it’s not a good idea to that far from the water if time is of the essence. Then again, Hasting Council made the strange decision to build a boating lake between the old lifeboat house and the sea before realizing this would hinder launches – d’Oh!
One of the most famous landmarks of Hastings are the huge black Fishermen’s huts which are officially called ‘Net Shops’. There are about 45 of these huts still standing including one that is actually half a boat planted in the ground! Many years ago, the council restricted how many of these huts could be built on the Stade, so for added space, the fishermen simply built them taller – as high as 25 ft.
I’d walked along to see the net shops but got slightly side tracked by the huge old galleon style boats nestled on the pebbles, so I was surprised when I suddenly found myself in the outside bit of the Fishermen’s Museum which is housed in the little Church of St. Nicholas.
The museum relies on donations so it’s free to visit and is decorated with old nets and artefacts as well as a huge galleon inside. It was quite busy but I suspect that was because it was so cold and the aquarium was closed, so I carried on to the cliffs the other side where there were people on the beach trying to out-run the waves. Wallies.
I love this part of the old town and the houses at Rock-a-nore are particularly pretty. They are all slightly different in terms of design and also colour, but I like the blue one close to the East Hill railway.
The smell of fish and chips was wafting gently on the air, so I followed my nose to the Blue Dolphin fish bar at the edge of George Street where there were queues of expectant customers all licking their lips. For once, I was good and didn’t stop (although I was sorely tempted) but as it’s New Years Day I thought it was a bit early to break all my resolutions, so I carried on up the high Street.
It was weird because within just a few minutes, it felt like I was in one of the country towns like Tenterden or at the very least the set of Miss Marple.
I found a beautiful church tucked away amongst the little whiteboard houses as well as the Fishermen’s garden where you can see all sorts of things they have dredged up including a propeller from a WWI plane, but my attention was caught by the sign for the caves & castle one the side of one of the old houses.
I followed the pathway than very quickly narrowed to just steeps steps and was soon regretting my decision – this was harder going than the Chemin de Fozzano and I had to stop more than once to ‘admire the view’ which is a euphemism for stopping my lungs from exploding!
When I finally got to the top, the view was incredible and given the height, it was no surprise that there was still snow on the ground. I also remembered why they have the East & West Hill funicular railway, so that people don’t have to kill themselves getting up here!! The smugglers caves were closed so after a wander round, I decided to take the easy way down.
£2 for a round trip, even though I only wanted to go one way was a bargain according to my legs, and the railway deposited me right at the heat of George Street, so I was able to justify a look at all the shops on the way back to the car.
This street is so narrow that it is almost always in shade which is a shame because it’s so pretty, but it’s impossible to get a decent photo. What I like about George Street is the eclectic mix; tattoo parlours, old fashioned sweet shops, cafes and haunted pubs as well as old fashioned iron mongers and shops selling all sorts of spiritual things – phew!!
There was enough here to keep me entertained for a month of Sundays!
Of course, what I hadn’t realised was that the world and his wife had had the same idea, so parking was a bit of a nightmare and I ended up in the same car park where I’d previously been attacked by a mutant seagull – eek.
When you live somewhere, it’s often easy to forget the benefits until you leave and come back to visit. Once I’d neatly side-stepped the freakishly large seagulls, I started snapping away at St. Mary in the Castle.
This magnificent Georgian church, with its unique circular auditorium sits in the middle of a Regency style building which is built into the rock. The auditorium here is famous for its acoustics, and its much under-rated place in my opinion. What is strange is that all the houses look like they have been recently painted a lovely cream colour except for one grey one. One question - why??
I continued towards the castle and my attention was soon diverted by drumming. Was it the effects of a wild and rampant New Years Eve I hear you ask? Sadly not! On the plus side, it was something more exciting than a hangover, as I soon came across a group of madly dressed Pirate type people waving a skull and cross bones and banging various drums rhythmically.
I have no idea who they were or what they were doing, but it was really entertaining nonetheless. They were all dressed in black and red with feathers and skull in their hats, and weird and wonderful shapes painted on their faces. I watched for a while but the wind was bitterly cold so despite the several layers of clothes, I needed to keep moving to save myself from freezing to death!
I’d forgotten how old and interesting the old town is, if you don’t take much notice of the local loonies. For an architecture junkie like me, it was great to wander along and just check out all the different styles arranged in a higgledy piggledy fashion next to one another.
All the shops, restaurants and pubs seem to have names like ‘The Seagull’ and ‘The Mermaid’, and even on a day like today when it was freezing, there were a good variety of accents amongst what were clearly day trippers. It’s a shame that not more of the attractions were open such as the old Customs House.
Smuggling was a huge problem in Hastings like in many coastal towns
'No business carried on in Hastings was more popular and extensive as that of smuggling. Defrauding the revenue, so far from being considered a crime, was looked upon as a laudable pursuit, and the most successful 'runners' were heroes. Nearly the whole of the inhabitants, old and young and of every station in life, were, to some extent, engaged in it.'
The caves (Smugglers Adventure) are definitely worth a visit, but as they were also closed, I had to contend myself with the lifeboat house.
What was interesting about the lifeboat house was that it was a fair distance from the sea – OK, so it was just beach between, but surely it’s not a good idea to that far from the water if time is of the essence. Then again, Hasting Council made the strange decision to build a boating lake between the old lifeboat house and the sea before realizing this would hinder launches – d’Oh!
One of the most famous landmarks of Hastings are the huge black Fishermen’s huts which are officially called ‘Net Shops’. There are about 45 of these huts still standing including one that is actually half a boat planted in the ground! Many years ago, the council restricted how many of these huts could be built on the Stade, so for added space, the fishermen simply built them taller – as high as 25 ft.
I’d walked along to see the net shops but got slightly side tracked by the huge old galleon style boats nestled on the pebbles, so I was surprised when I suddenly found myself in the outside bit of the Fishermen’s Museum which is housed in the little Church of St. Nicholas.
The museum relies on donations so it’s free to visit and is decorated with old nets and artefacts as well as a huge galleon inside. It was quite busy but I suspect that was because it was so cold and the aquarium was closed, so I carried on to the cliffs the other side where there were people on the beach trying to out-run the waves. Wallies.
I love this part of the old town and the houses at Rock-a-nore are particularly pretty. They are all slightly different in terms of design and also colour, but I like the blue one close to the East Hill railway.
The smell of fish and chips was wafting gently on the air, so I followed my nose to the Blue Dolphin fish bar at the edge of George Street where there were queues of expectant customers all licking their lips. For once, I was good and didn’t stop (although I was sorely tempted) but as it’s New Years Day I thought it was a bit early to break all my resolutions, so I carried on up the high Street.
It was weird because within just a few minutes, it felt like I was in one of the country towns like Tenterden or at the very least the set of Miss Marple.
I found a beautiful church tucked away amongst the little whiteboard houses as well as the Fishermen’s garden where you can see all sorts of things they have dredged up including a propeller from a WWI plane, but my attention was caught by the sign for the caves & castle one the side of one of the old houses.
I followed the pathway than very quickly narrowed to just steeps steps and was soon regretting my decision – this was harder going than the Chemin de Fozzano and I had to stop more than once to ‘admire the view’ which is a euphemism for stopping my lungs from exploding!
When I finally got to the top, the view was incredible and given the height, it was no surprise that there was still snow on the ground. I also remembered why they have the East & West Hill funicular railway, so that people don’t have to kill themselves getting up here!! The smugglers caves were closed so after a wander round, I decided to take the easy way down.
£2 for a round trip, even though I only wanted to go one way was a bargain according to my legs, and the railway deposited me right at the heat of George Street, so I was able to justify a look at all the shops on the way back to the car.
This street is so narrow that it is almost always in shade which is a shame because it’s so pretty, but it’s impossible to get a decent photo. What I like about George Street is the eclectic mix; tattoo parlours, old fashioned sweet shops, cafes and haunted pubs as well as old fashioned iron mongers and shops selling all sorts of spiritual things – phew!!
There was enough here to keep me entertained for a month of Sundays!
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