Summer holidays, part the second

In which I continue my systematic, wholly unfounded assasination of popular tourist destinations in coastal Suffolk.

Before I get started I'd like to point out that, in the winter, I love Aldeburgh. It's proper seaside, and is at its best when cold, windswept and mostly empty. There are cosy Adnams pubs, and the best fish and chip shop in the whole entire world. Sitting all wrapped up on the sea wall, stuffing greasy, salty chips down your throat is one of those world-class experiences that make you glad to be alive.

Today, however, I learned a hard lesson about Aldeburgh. It should only ever be visited between October and March.

During the summer, the place is packed to the rafters with wealthy sailing types. Their children are tanned, windswept and overprivileged to the point of boredom. They are Hugos, and they are Petras, and they love each other very, very much (you can tell this from the hugging and air-kissing that erupts when two groups converge in the middle of the tiny, overcrowded pavement). The rest of the town is filled with ordinary people just looking for an ice cream, or a place to sit down. It's like Upstairs Downstairs made real, as the sailing types sneer at the tourists, and the tourists apologise protractedly if eye contact is accidentally made with someone in a higher tax bracket.

So anyway. Today, the queue for the chip shop was enormous, so we attempted to buy lunch elsewhere. May I recommend that, should you find yourself hungry in Aldeburgh, you DO NOT patronise a place by the name of "Munchies". It is pretentious, eye-wateringly overpriced and staffed by a very rude lady indeed. I paid twelve and a half quid for two burgers and a club sandwich. Twelve and a half quid! For takeaway food! And after I'd waited for fifteen minutes outside the kiosk-sized premises that were now trying to accommodate eight oversized nineteen year-old boys called Henry, I thought I might enquire as to how much longer our food might be. Given that they had twelve and a half quid of my money, and all. I squeezed into the shop, and smiled at the woman who had taken my order. Looking me up and down with all the warmth and welcoming of a vegan in an abattoir, she simply barked "I know. There are a number of people waiting. You'll have to wait". So I pointed out through gritted teeth that I'd been waiting for rather a long time now, and I just wanted to see how much longer our food might be. Waving a large knife dismissively in the direction of her hapless assistant, she muttered something under her breath and turned her back on me.

So, lady who runs Munchies in Aldeburgh, should you ever google yourself to check customer feedback, please take on board my constructive criticism. Your shop is too small. Your menu is wanky in the extreme. Your customer service is appalling, and your prices are ludicrous. And do you know what else? Your food was rubbish as well.

And then a pigeon shat on the Other Half, so we decided to call it a day.

Tomorrow? I think we'll stay in.