I've just got back from dropping my niece Kirsty off at Heathrow airport, as she flies back to Australia tonight. The poor thing has a good 20 hours of flying ahead of her, as well as a number of time zone changes.
I felt really sad saying goodbye to her. We had a wonderful time together and I hope she has wonderful memories of England, France and Switzerland.
Today we drove down to a lovely little town called Rye, which is in East Sussex, not far from Hastings. On the way we drove through the lovely bucolic countryside of the Kent and Sussex Weald, a reminder of what a lovely corner of England I live in. Rye is quaint, but with a slightly arty feel to it, with lovely independent art galleries, cafes, bookstores and other shops you don't necessarily find elsewhere. Many of the streets are cobbled, lined with wonderful old cottages and buildings. There is quite a good literary connection here too, with a number of well known authors who have lived and visited here, including Henry James. I even found a tiny perfume shop selling Serge Lutens, Carthusia and Miller Harris. Joy!
If you're interested in seeing a bit of Rye, click here.
