1066 And All That

Nothing says British seaside town like needle disposal points in public toilets.

I've been to Hastings.  It was ace. It was the first day of carnival and they take that nonsense seriously. Beach parties.  Street parties.  Pop up restaurants. Heroic volumes of alcohol. Got it covered.  The kick off event is the Tug of War - we got there for the 10.30 start: we felt that we had a heap of catching up to do; everyone seemed to be about four pints in - and the whole town seemed to be there.  And the drinking continued.

It was like 28 days later in Old Hastings this morning.  A sea of crushed plastic glasses. Candy floss tumble weed bowling across the street. Herring gulls pecking at beerstained corpses.  We got the hell out of dodge and headed for Battle, to try and get some of that history stuff.  What we actually found was a touristy ghost town with overpriced parking - who would have thought?

Speaking of history, isn't it strange that the only dates that everyone knows end in '66? The Alamanni attack on the Roman Empire; the Battle of Benevento; the Death of Frederik V of Norway - all of the dates that everyone knows...

To fully embrace the staycation vibe we camped in that Hastings. Aside from festivals I've not camped anywhere in over five years. I don't remember ankle deep brown water in the showers being a thing when I used to camp.  It appears to be a thing now.  Not certain that it added to the camping experience for me.