One of the things I love about Rye is wandering around the town before 10am and after 5pm, when I feel Rye belongs to me. Very few residents or tourists are up and about, and the place echoes to its ancient rhythms...bells, smells and chimes.
I love the light on the marsh and on Camber Castle, and as the sun swings gradually round, so does the light. However, open our west facing back door and you can say goodbye to any pretentions to a 'going out trying to look smart' hair do; one's barnet is instantly blown up, and naturally an umbrella doesn't work one bit. It just turns inside out. But, having been a farmer, I still love the direct contact with bad weather.
I like being able to potter, with or without a purpose, as one always sees something or somebody different. To dive into two churches, the Roman Catholic one, always open, was such a consolation in lockdown, when my churches were all shut up tight. A Roman Catholic friend said to me, when I complained about it, “Come on in, the holy water's lovely!” I thought quite hard about converting. I love walking on the cobbles, thinking that they might well be doing the soles of my feet good in activating all sorts of different pressure points. Probably just wishful thinking.
One or two things I like a lot less. The first one being peacefully asleep at night when the unacceptable noise of a motorcyclist on speed (of both types) roars around the town, and particularly South Undercliff (loving the echo they create). I just think of all the very old, the unwell, the young, the babies whose sleep absolutely has to have been shattered, probably for the rest of the night. How could the motorcyclist be so unimaginative as to do that? Have they no old relatives, or children needing their school time sleep? I would so love to give chase and ask the little wotsits!
I also hate how cars creep up on you as you step off the pavement to avoid some tourists without looking behind you, and very nearly end your life then and there, or at the very least the life of a leg. And conversely, having to crawl along in your car when tourists stay resolutely in the middle of the road. But that's Rye for you, and it sure does teach you to slow down.
On the whole, a fine place to live we think!
