It was late afternoon by the time I had finished visiting the gardens at Great Dixter. I could have headed back to London then — none of the hotels or B&Bs had room. But I was hungry, and I had a hankering to see the shore. So I headed south.
After about 20 minutes I came to the ancient port village of Rye. It’s heyday seems to have been sometime back in the Middle Ages; today it is a tiny, sleepy place perched on a hill overlooking the coastal plain. I stopped long enough to see the castle . . .
. . . and grab a bite to eat.
Then back to the car and on to the beach.