Fearsome Olga at the Pub

Yesterday, after a lazy morning of reading and hanging around, Dave and I walked Olga into what passes for a town in Pevensey Bay. It's a pretty tiny place, almost just a crossroads, but there are some shops and a handful of restaurants, as well as a few picturesque old cottages (above). We went for a pub lunch at The Castle Inn, where I got ham and eggs with chips. For some reason I was starving.

Olga, still on her leash, lay near our feet beneath the table and charmed most of the pub guests. One woman, in a black pantsuit with a blonde coif and a conspicuous sparkly brooch, was not charmed. She not only didn't approach Olga, she went to great, theatrical lengths to avoid her, asking us to restrain her while she circled other nearby tables in order to stick close to the wall and keep furniture between her and the dog. I don't recall anyone ever going to such great lengths. Olga just watched from her prone position on the floor. If a dog can be bemused, she was.

Dave whispered, "I wish we'd taught Olga a command that would make her leap to her feet and growl."

But hey, you never know. Maybe that woman had a bad experience. As I said, everyone else seemed happy to have Olga there. (There were also other dogs too, as is common in many pubs.)

When we got back, I took a walk on the beach on my own. That's sea kale, above, a fleshy plant that grows in the shingle. It's pretty amazing anything can take root. When the tide is out, there's a firmer layer of fine sand for walking near the water -- a more conventional "beach" -- and I walked down there as much as I could. I've discovered that the sandals I brought aren't the best for walking on these shifting, clattery pebbles. Note to self: Next time, bring closed-toe shoes.

I tried not to pick up every interesting rock I found. I did pick this one up, though.

I walked down to the community of Normans Bay, which is just east of us. I found this bizarre, silo-shaped structure on the beach. It's called a Martello Tower, and it's one of many built for coastal defense back in the early 1800s. (There's also one in Pevensey Bay which we somehow missed while walking through town.) The one above appears to have been converted into a house.

Another architectural oddity that we can see from our cottage is an offshore platform known as the Royal Sovereign Lighthouse. It's waaaaaay out in the water, on the horizon, and we couldn't quite tell what it was. Dave thought maybe it was an oil drilling platform, but that seemed unlikely along this stretch of coastline. Finally I did some research and identified it. Apparently it's been decommissioned and is supposed to be dismantled sometime soon.

As I walked back to the cottage I passed this bulldog sitting serenely on a picnic table beside the beach path, watching the world go by. Do you suppose he climbed up there by himself?