Nik lives in Essex, UK and works in London as the editor of MacUser magazine. The posts and comments on this site do not necessarily reflect the views, opinions of values of his employers.
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Walton Pier, in the fog
It’s been a weekend of contrasts, if nothing else. It started in Chelmsford in glorious sunshine, and after picking strawberries from the garden we jumped in the car and buzzed down to Frinton, getting stuck in the inevitable jam just as we turned off the A12.
Windows down, blowers on to cool us down, our shirts sticking to our backs. It was so hot. And then we passed through the manual railway barriers that mark the boundary of ‘proper’ Frinton and the fog rolled in from the sea. It was surreal. Within 100 metres it had gone from clear blue skies to reduced visibility, and 100 metres on from that we could barely see to the end of the road.
It swirled around, and you could see it rolling in on the stiff breeze, and it stuck with us all the way to Walton as we walked along the promenade as far as the pier. But as we arrived and turned around, so did the fog. It suddenly rolled back, parted in a matter of minutes, and let the sun shine through strongly enough to burn us, and allow us to take off our shoes and socks and walk back, not along the promenade, but in the shallows of the receding tide for the first paddle of the year.
We drove along to the Naze and walked down to the bohemian beach at the end, past the fire sites and the piles of washed up detritus, then scrabbled around in the rock slides to pick up the fossils that fall freely from the loose cliff edges.
The good weather held out until Sunday and so we took advantage, hopping in the car for a drive out to Bury St Edmunds, and the Abbey Gardens, which were far larger than either of us remembered. We picnicked on the grass then went for a walk through the pollen-filled poppy fields, in the middle of which a heron or crane was tending to its huge nest.
From beginning to end, an idyllic weekend, but a weekend filled with contrasts.
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