The Strood, looking towards Mersea from Peldon, at high tide yesterday.
This photo was actually taken - the in-car binoculars having disappeared - to establish whether the water was covering the lower railing of the fence at its deepest point. If the rail is visible, then, on a calm day, it is possible for the Musings family Discovery, tail-end duly elevated, to negotiate the causeway without incident - though this still requires some skill (not possessed by me, I hasten to add) in constantly blowing water out of the submerged exhaust and keeping the wheels in exactly the right trajectory. It also depends on not being engulfed by the bow-wave of other intrepid vehicles. So always a bit of a white-knuckle ride for me, nervous passenger that I am on these occasions.
None of this malarkey would have been necessary at all, had I not lost track of the tides through being too busy to walk the beach these last couple of days, and also had the crucial Tide Table not mysteriously vanished (along with the binoculars) from the car. As it was, the tides being particularly high at the moment, the Strood was impassable for a good forty minutes before the water was even at its deepest, and so there was nothing else for it but either to sit thumb-twiddling for an hour or to turn back to the Peldon Rose for a time-killing lunch. The latter was no very great hardship - indeed it was an excellent decision!
Although the main bars in the ancient part of the pub were closed (owing to flooding, I think - there were men with pumps milling around outside) the conservatory restaurant was open as usual, the service was brisk and friendly and the food - smoked mackerel quiche and salad, and bangers and mash - was as every bit as delicious as one has come to expect of this favourite eatery.
This photo was actually taken - the in-car binoculars having disappeared - to establish whether the water was covering the lower railing of the fence at its deepest point. If the rail is visible, then, on a calm day, it is possible for the Musings family Discovery, tail-end duly elevated, to negotiate the causeway without incident - though this still requires some skill (not possessed by me, I hasten to add) in constantly blowing water out of the submerged exhaust and keeping the wheels in exactly the right trajectory. It also depends on not being engulfed by the bow-wave of other intrepid vehicles. So always a bit of a white-knuckle ride for me, nervous passenger that I am on these occasions.
None of this malarkey would have been necessary at all, had I not lost track of the tides through being too busy to walk the beach these last couple of days, and also had the crucial Tide Table not mysteriously vanished (along with the binoculars) from the car. As it was, the tides being particularly high at the moment, the Strood was impassable for a good forty minutes before the water was even at its deepest, and so there was nothing else for it but either to sit thumb-twiddling for an hour or to turn back to the Peldon Rose for a time-killing lunch. The latter was no very great hardship - indeed it was an excellent decision!
Although the main bars in the ancient part of the pub were closed (owing to flooding, I think - there were men with pumps milling around outside) the conservatory restaurant was open as usual, the service was brisk and friendly and the food - smoked mackerel quiche and salad, and bangers and mash - was as every bit as delicious as one has come to expect of this favourite eatery.
4 comments:
The Peldon Rose looks like a must-visit when I eventually get to see the Muddy Island. I don't think my low-slung Golf would make it across the Strood even at low tide, though.
It's most definitely a must-visit, M, and I WILL take you there when you DO come to the Muddy Island. At low tide the Strood is completely dry, and it's only covered at high tide on certain days (see here: http://www.mersea-island.com/tide-tables.cfm ).
What is it about binoculars? We have two pairs, and not the faintest clue where either of them are. I am a nervous passenger too, so I sympathise. I'd be white knuckled until I'd got to the other side.
Oh no, you've mentioned another good restaurant. This is too unkind. Are there any houses for sale on Muddy Island?
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