I don’t spend very much time looking back; the past is foreign country. Yet on the rare occasions I return to UEA, my impressions, initially, are always clouded by my teen-aged self and the shock of the new. Raw concrete under a leaden sky. Ladsun’s ziggurats slicing into sloping green. It all looks much softer today; climbers and tall trees blur the cutting edges, but the architectural puritan in me disapproves.
We’re visiting the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts, taking the opportunity to catch up with some favourite pieces in the Sainsbury Collection whilst we’re in this part of the world. The best paintings, for me, are the ones that evoke an almost visceral response; a resonance like the hum of a tuning fork. Francis Bacon does it for me every time and there are some truly stunning examples here. Henry Moore’s touching images of sleeping shelterers move me too. Antonio Saura’s, Hiroshima, Mon Amour. It’s wonderful to see them again.
From Norwich it’s off to Cromer in search of another favourite image – the cover of Turning the Tide! Oh course, I’d have to go out to sea to capture it exactly and there are no rocks at Cromer for Harry to sit on - although maybe there are some at Little Spitmarsh, the sleepy seaside town in my book - but I can see enough to get that tingly feeling. Cromer and Little Spitmarsh both have a pier jutting out into the same sea, but they are not the same place. Little Spitmarsh is an amalgam of all the faded seaside towns that I love, but which are faced with uncertain futures caught between the need to modernise and the risk of losing all that makes them unique.
That dilemma’s at the forefront of my mind when Tom and I escape the rain and dive into a seafront café for fish and chips. The place is tired, feels as if it hasn’t been decorated since the ‘seventies and, despite being almost empty, no one is eating. So whilst we wait for food we sit and drink tea and enjoy the most fabulous panoramic view of the coast. Part of me wonders what someone like Rick Stein could do with a restaurant in a spot like this – the other half wonders, like my heroine, Harry, in Turning the Tide, if I could still afford to sit here if he did.
We’re visiting the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts, taking the opportunity to catch up with some favourite pieces in the Sainsbury Collection whilst we’re in this part of the world. The best paintings, for me, are the ones that evoke an almost visceral response; a resonance like the hum of a tuning fork. Francis Bacon does it for me every time and there are some truly stunning examples here. Henry Moore’s touching images of sleeping shelterers move me too. Antonio Saura’s, Hiroshima, Mon Amour. It’s wonderful to see them again.
From Norwich it’s off to Cromer in search of another favourite image – the cover of Turning the Tide! Oh course, I’d have to go out to sea to capture it exactly and there are no rocks at Cromer for Harry to sit on - although maybe there are some at Little Spitmarsh, the sleepy seaside town in my book - but I can see enough to get that tingly feeling. Cromer and Little Spitmarsh both have a pier jutting out into the same sea, but they are not the same place. Little Spitmarsh is an amalgam of all the faded seaside towns that I love, but which are faced with uncertain futures caught between the need to modernise and the risk of losing all that makes them unique.That dilemma’s at the forefront of my mind when Tom and I escape the rain and dive into a seafront café for fish and chips. The place is tired, feels as if it hasn’t been decorated since the ‘seventies and, despite being almost empty, no one is eating. So whilst we wait for food we sit and drink tea and enjoy the most fabulous panoramic view of the coast. Part of me wonders what someone like Rick Stein could do with a restaurant in a spot like this – the other half wonders, like my heroine, Harry, in Turning the Tide, if I could still afford to sit here if he did.
Comments
I used to especially love those towns out of season. I can see the need for progress and rejuvenating areas but not if it means we all end up living in an homogenised facsimile and there's no longer any place for character and celebrating a place's quirkiness.
I've never been to Cromer but now I have even more reason - I can go on the Turning the Tide tour!
Love the pictures
I love visiting those little seaside towns.
This realization makes me want to thank you again for show your readers the special atmosphere of such places in Turning the Tide.
It is so odd for me to have this lifetime accumulation of notions of life near the sea (in various countries) without the actual experience.
Many thanks to you and other fine writers! xo
Kath, you've put your finger on it exactly; it would be such a shame to lose what's unique about those places in the rush to make them over... although I guess that's not going to happen much now either. Seaside towns out of season - another passion of mine too! Thanks for your kind comments about TTT!
Sally's Chateau - that IS riveting! I was going to make a comment about him having lots of Cromer crabs but it's not sounding quite right. No, no and no is the answer to the sale question just time and money wasters. Good luck!
Joanna, thank you... I wonder where the wanderlust will take you next? Will watch your blog to see.
Fennie, yes, I've read that too - a poignant read. Thought of that looking at the workers in the East Anglian fields too.
Pondside, Ma's been here remembering her trip to your country - she confirms that Vancouver Island is very beautiful!
Oh Talli, I wonder where you were in relation to Pondside? Stepson 1's fiance is from Montreal... and I now know how far away that is from Pondside! Interesting observation - I think it's that sadness that draws me.
Debs, Thank you!. Yes, I saw that too - it was a real shame, wasn't it?
Hi Jane, clotted cream on ice cream? I'd better come with you next time... for research purposes. Ta, m'dear.
Frances, there's an open invitation for you here anytime you want to some and stay by the sea. Thanks for your kind comment. cx
Leigh, I love it too... although I'm getting a tad nervous about our Irish Sea crossing later today!
Pauline, another place we share in common then! Eek, hope you enjoy the book.