Growing up, I felt like I lived in a cultural armpit. There’s no city or university. It’s slightly too far to commute to London from, yet doesn’t hold much in the way of industry, hence most people leave at age 18. My teenage self was particularly antagonised by the fact that barely any bands came to play in the area, always skipping over us in favour of Norwich. Heck, there’s not even a motorway going to Suffolk, just a duel carriageway – that’s how unpopular we are.
It was only after experiencing a good few years of the err, ‘buzz’ of Big City Life – such as being mugged, hellish commutes and picking black boogies out of my nose (what is that about?) – that I really began to appreciate little old Suffolk. Nowadays I love its wild, rustic beauty. I like the fact that it’s not too touristy, twee or chock full of millionaires’ second homes, unlike much of the British countryside. And even though I thought it was boring when I was a teenager, I now realise that it was a pretty good place to grow up. We may not have had the world’s most banging nightlife but it forced us to be more creative with how we had fun (alcopops in the churchyard on a Friday night, anyone?)
Every time I go home I always try and make the effort to explore a little more of the local countryside. Here are a few piccies I took over the Christmas period that I thought I’d share – the weather unfortunately made photo opportunities pretty scarce, but hey I did my best.
I hope you all had wonderful Christmasses, whether in your respective hometowns or further afield.
Ermm, this boat name made me giggle.
Suffolk DEMANDS that you are not ‘crabby’ at Christmas!
Greetings from some genuine Suffolk kitties.
And, as it was Christmas… A partridge in a pear tree (kind of).