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Our local branch was still closed, so we plumped for Ipswich, Suffolk’s county town, boasting some interesting historic buildings and a marina where boats and pedalos navigate the Orwell River bordered by a very pleasant promenade, dotted with restaurants and cafés.
It was a beautiful day, the fried polenta strips were delicious, the beer was cold, and having a real espresso after four months of instant coffee was glorious. We walked off lunch with a stroll around the neighbourhood, had a smoothie at Kaspas and a scolding from an old lady because we were apparently sitting on the steps of some museum’s emergency exit. We were a bit miffed but promptly left, only for me to look back 100 steps later and find a bunch of cackling teenagers sitting on the very same steps we were shooed from, with the very same lady happily standing behind them.
Excuuuuuse me? I turned on my heels, salivating for blood; but as if guessing my violent intentions the woman disappeared inside the huge wooden doors. I was curious to know why was my bum so unworthy, but not enough to pay for admission to NOAH’S ARK BIBLE MUSEUM. Well, maybe next time.