Memorable break in Forget Me Not
BENJAMIN, George and Gertrude are chatting on the front lawn, oblivious to us earwigging on their conversation.
They come here every day to chill out in the East Sussex sunshine, waddling off every now and then to explore the area.
It’s a pretty charmed life around here when you’re a duck. Or a human, come to that.
With a beach within walking distance, family-friendly pubs and attractions every way you turn off the A259, it’s safe to say holidaying in the UK’s south-east is a delight.
In fact, by the end of our week away, we found ourselves nosing in estate agents and pondering a rash resignation and a relocation to somewhere calm and quiet, where we could sit on a pebbly beach having deep-and-meaningfuls, while soaking up some much-needed vitamin D. XXXXXX xxxxxx We stayed in Winchelsea, a quiet
Xxxx seaside town near Rye, in a freshly decorated bungalow called Forget Me Not, available to rent via Kent & Sussex Holiday Cottages.
There’s a modern open-plan living area (including a well-kitted out kitchen), two bedrooms, a small, toasty sunroom and a little lawned garden with outdoor seating.
The decor is clean and zingy and the home-made lemon drizzle cake is a nice touch, too – left by the owners, who live next door.
Nearby Rye has cute, cobbled streets and pretty, old buildings, such as 12th century pub The Mermaid Inn (mermaidinn.com), where you can feast on scrumptious food with a European flavour and sup pints beneath wooden beams threaded with hops.
From Forget Me Not, it’s just a 20-minute drive along winding roads to Camber Sands, spotting the sheep that dot the horizon like hay bales in a field.
Parking is expensive, with up to three hours setting you back £5 (or £10 for the whole day), but it doesn’t seem to put anyone off. We watched surfers get ready on the shore, kids fly colourful kites in the breeze and families hoof footballs around a makeshift sandy pitch.
The sun glistened on the crashing waves as the blue sky stretched as far as the eye can see, smeared only with a few cotton-wool cloud formations.
There’s traditional beach fare for those who’ve brought their pocket money – a bouncy castle, seesaw swings and a big shop selling everything needed for hapless beachgoers like us, who turn up with only a cool bag of snacks.
We took a half-hour walk into Winchelsea centre – all beautifully old, with a handful of shops and a lovely pub.
The New Inn served us well with its enchanting, higgledy-piggledy beer garden and a cracking array of craft ales, not to mention the ice cream.
The town is quainter than quaint. There isn’t a duff house to be seen and undulating hills or beach views stand proud in every direction you look.
This is the sort of place that makes you seriously consider jacking in the city in exchange for a life of calm – or at least a holiday home.