Well, my main learning for today is to better plan my exit from London; just setting off to the ignorant suggestions of Mrs Sat Nav wasn’t such a good idea, but on the plus side I had the unexpected pleasure of driving over Tower Bridge.

I was excited to be heading to the seaside on such a beautiful day. It’s amazing how green everything is: fields of golden canola flowering and the roadside in full bloom with hawthorn bush. Spring seems to last forever here, gently flowering for weeks and weeks; in Australia, spring explodes into action, then it’s hot and windy and the cherry blossoms are smashed within a week, and then it’s summer and everything’s brown. Here spring gently creeps across the countryside; it’s long, slow, and glorious.

I arrived in Southend-on-Sea and am a little surprised to see its ‘award-winning beach’ is actually a tidal mudflat. But that hasn’t stopped thousands of enthusiastic families flocking down to enjoy the spring sun on Sunday and the many amusements on the foreshore. I drove quite a long way out past the amusements, through necessity, as every parking spot for miles was taken. As I walked back to find some lunch, I chatted with Mary; she had a baby in a pusher and was walking very slowly along the foreshore as young Isabelle, with no shoes on, was making snow angels in the warm sand, again and again and again: four steps; sand angel; up; four steps; another sand angel. As we walked I asked Mary about national identity. It’s struck me that you don’t find the sort of unified national identity in the UK that you see in, say, America at its strongest, or even in Australia. I asked her if she saw herself as more British or English. “British, because my family come from all over: Ireland, Scotland and England.”  We talked a bit about my trip and I was warned about the ‘midgies’ on the west coast of Scotland; I’ll remember to pack the Areoguard for that one. It turned out the two girls weren’t Mary’s, but rather her daughters – Mary was the very obliging and caring ‘granny/nanny’.

I had a nice lunch on the terrace at the Roslyn Hotel, overlooking the water, and talked to the beautiful Chantal and Charlotte, all dressed up, in the sun with a nice bottle of wine.  We talked about my project; their phone contracts; that they identify as English (“I’m only British when I fill out a form”); which boys on the terrace they liked the look of; and that they actually feel quite European, and think, “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”, but they’re not going to vote.

As I walked back to the car a saw guy looking very comfy in the sun in front of his beach hut: “my wife’s Nan bought it more than 30 years ago; since then they’ve dumped lots of sand; there used to be 6 steps, but now there’s only 2”. The new sand protects the wall and beach from the sea during storms. I also learnt how to ‘beach’ in Southend-on-Sea: the ideal conditions have the tide out during the morning and at midday the sun warms the mud and then the sea as it rolls in over the hot mud with the tide. “It’s as warm as a bath” to swim in the evening.

I had an unsuccessful attempt to use the gym at Kingfisher Leisure in Sudbury, met some lovely people by the river, and had a good walk. Then when heading back to my room I met a car hurtling along with the back open, being chased by two huge Weimaraners; after a brief roadside chat, it turned out they were staying at the same property and I followed them home for a glass of wine.

Holbecks House in Hadleigh is a wonderful rambling country house with big park-like gardens, and my room is the very same room HRH Prince Charles once slept in when visiting the Chief Commander.