We buzzed up the A12 again to Suffolk at the weekend, to, somewhat belatedly, celebrate Ean’s 30th birthday. That was in the early afternoon, though, so in the morning we made an early start, and revisited some old haunts. First stop was the Little Chef just outside Darsham and before Blythburgh, where we took in breakfast.
I don’t think you can go wrong with a Little Chef, if it’s good honest food you’re after. They conjure up memories of coming home from Volkswagen shows, as we used to stop off at numerous ones on the A14 after a day of looking at German cars. That was always for tea; I’ve rarely done the first meal of the day.
The Darsham eaterie was almost empty, with only two other tables occupied. People came and people went while we sat looking at the slightly yellow ceiling, old ventian blinds and painted red wood panelling. I don’t know what year it opened, but I don’t think the place has changed much. But that’s part of the appeal; slightly run-down and nostalgic buildings reminiscent of a motoring age gone by, coupled with good and efficient service.
Surely the Heston Blumenthal made over restaurants lose some of that appeal?
Satisfied and full, we arrived in Lowestoft not long after, and bumped into mum, in of all places, Morrisons. We’d gone in to look for Will’s Christmas present and spotted a rather familiar blue Renault Clio in the car park. After we’d surprised mum (and after she’d stopped bumping into people she knew), we all drove into the town centre, where we’d arrange to meet for coffee.
I can’t remember many coffee shops in the town, and Caffé Nero and Starbucks are still conspicuous by their absence, but a gingerbread latte in Costa was just what I needed. We quietly caught up with mum’s news, before she gave us an unofficial tour of the main High Street – somewhere I haven’t been for many years.
It turned out she hadn’t been there for a while either. Many of the well-known Lowestoft names have since disappeared; Morlings music shops have gone, while Chadds has adopted Palmers’ name, as the Great Yarmouth firm owns it. In many ways, the main shopping area reminded me of Basildon – there are many cheap or budget shops, and not many of the young, hip and trendy names you find somewhere like Norwich or Ipswich. And maybe that’s the reason why – they have them, so why should Lowestoft?
At mum’s we could have been eating out. Pizza Express pizzas were accompanied by delicious doughballs, garlic cheese bread and salad, finished off with a small or large glasses of champagne, depending on who was driving. Rhubarb crumble followed, and once the table had been cleared, we cracked open the Trivial Pursuit, for yet more rose-tinted fun.
Like so many things last weekend, I hadn’t ‘done’ Trivial for ages either, but usefully, the pink questions were still ‘Good Times’, so culture vultures can still answer posers on music and TV and anything associated with those mediums. The legendary blue and orange (‘Places’ and ‘Sport and Leisure’ respectively) weren’t as hard as I remember either. We were playing the ‘family edition’ after all.
Coming up from behind, Ean and Vikki were the undisputed champions, though. A multiple-choice question from the middle of the box handed them victory (multiple-choice should never be allowed as the final question), which in a way was good, as we could have been there all night. At just over an hour, it was the quickest game of Trivial Pursuit that I’ve ever played. Nik and I left just after 6pm, to wend our way back home. It didn’t matter that we celebrated Ean’s birthday two weeks late – it was just as much fun doing it belatedly.
