Last week my Lab group from college went on a massive day trip to Dungeness to see Derek Jarman's garden. It was supposed to be a collaborative effort but I think I was pretty much the only person who originally wanted to go there. The beach was spectacular, all flat stones as far as you could see, with the massive nuclear power station rising out of nowhere, and these huge concrete constructions called 'acoustic mirrors' which were used during the war to magnify the sound of approaching aircraft. There was something super creepy about the actual town of Dungeness- kind of cultish and supernatural. Every garden had strange conrete gnomes with crazy faces and there were no people on the streets, only flickering shadows behind curtains. We were such an oddity that a bus full of school children that drove past had to literally pull over so they could scream and point at us. Then they chased us a little way down the deserted street. Kids in the English countryside are creepy.
We had fish and chips for lunch in the only pub, which was also the local library and tourist information centre. It felt like something out of Twin Peaks, but even more creepy. I was pretty happy since over the last few months I've become uncontrollably addicted to mushy peas, and they gave me a massive serve.
My addiction seems to be spiralling dangerously out of control though lately; I've discovered you can buy mushy peas in a can for 83 pence at the supermarket, so I keep having them for breakfast like porridge. This might explain my unnatural pallor and slight greenish tinge.
Last week my Lab group from college went on a massive day trip to Dungeness to see Derek Jarman's garden. It was supposed to be a collaborative effort but I think I was pretty much the only person who originally wanted to go there. The beach was spectacular, all flat stones as far as you could see, with the massive nuclear power station rising out of nowhere, and these huge concrete constructions called 'acoustic mirrors' which were used during the war to magnify the sound of approaching aircraft. There was something super creepy about the actual town of Dungeness- kind of cultish and supernatural. Every garden had strange conrete gnomes with crazy faces and there were no people on the streets, only flickering shadows behind curtains. We were such an oddity that a bus full of school children that drove past had to literally pull over so they could scream and point at us. Then they chased us a little way down the deserted street. Kids in the English countryside are creepy.
We had fish and chips for lunch in the only pub, which was also the local library and tourist information centre. It felt like something out of Twin Peaks, but even more creepy. I was pretty happy since over the last few months I've become uncontrollably addicted to mushy peas, and they gave me a massive serve.
My addiction seems to be spiralling dangerously out of control though lately; I've discovered you can buy mushy peas in a can for 83 pence at the supermarket, so I keep having them for breakfast like porridge. This might explain my unnatural pallor and slight greenish tinge.
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