Ah Arundel in the rain. A brisk walk up hill to see the Cathedral only to find it closed due to the rather large crane parked outside which was in the process of lifting 2 huge sections of spire into place whilst being watched closely by a load of suits in hard hats and hi-viz vests. I made do with standing with the vicar (what do you call the dog collar guy in a cathedral?) and taking photos of its slow progress. I swear the crane bent over at the end but it could just be my eyesight.
There’s only so much crane movement you can watch so I made my way back down the hill and oh my god, what a view….
….no not the town, the knee quakingly beautiful, jaw droppingly gorgeous and much lusted over Mercedes SLS AMG. A cool £168,ooo on the road. God how I hate that driver (typical man of a certain age needing to prove something in life). Anyway. coffee was in order so I stopped off at the Christmas Shop’s (seriously!) festive cafe but insisted on sitting outside so I didn’t have to look at baubles while I drank my coffee and I could people watch as tourists made their way down the tiny street taking in the eclectic mixture of boutique shops. One Lady turned and looked at me and loudly proclaimed ” Look at that woman over there” leaving me to think oh yeah, you don’t see many pink haired people in places like this. I then bumped into her in a very pricey craft shop where she proceeded to tell me that she thought I was a dummy/statue sitting there very still and that it was a shock when I moved!! I wasn’t aware that I sat so stock still nor that there was a demand for dummy’s sporting curly pink hair looking like me. Maybe there’s a market out there I could exploit. As the rain was obviously not going to let up I decided it was time to pay up and take shelter in the castle. Sadly you weren’t allowed to take photos inside (don’t you just hate that) but the rooms were very impressive and they had a marvellous selection of weapons – ideal for someone who thinks they’d make a good Assassin. The dungeons and portcullis were just screaming out for a bunch of outlaws – I’m thinking Robin Hood and not the MC Club – to be running riot about the place.
After a walk sans brolly around the castle gardens and with no let up in the weather and an influx of rude, foreign school kids I decided it was time to leave. I’m convinced the dogs will have to make do with paddling in puddles and not in the sea unless the sun makes a suprise appearance before we leave.