A Day in Sudbury

You can find all the photos (or at least all the good photos!) here.

9:35, Saturday 6 June
Okay, so I made up my schedule last night, and I planned to leave from the Liverpool Street station at 10:38. However, the train leaves every hour, so I’ve gotten onto the 9:38 train. It goes to Ipswich, with stops at, among other places. Markes Tey, where I will change to get on the train to Sudbury.

Because I got to the station at 9 a.m. (I thought it would take longer to get here & pick up tickets!), I walked around for a bit. This station is certainly not as big as King’s Cross or Paddington, but as I’m not used to train stations, it still seems big to me. What threw me off a little bit (but only a little bit) were the pigeons inside the station. I tried to snap a photo of one in flight over people’s heads, but it didn’t work too well. I might try again later, but I might not.



9:38
We’re leaving!

9:43
It looks like it’s gonna rain. Not good.

10:01
We’ve stopped in Shenfield. Seven new people have boarded my car.

10:10
We’ve stopped in Chelmsford. Four people got off, and three people got on. I’ve still got five seats to myself, and I don’t feel guilty about it. There’s plenty of room in the car.

10:16
A train passes by going the other way. With the speed at which each of us are going, the windows shake for two seconds as if they’ve been hit by the waves of a sonic boom.

10:21
We’ve stopped at Witham. Four people got off, and two got on.

10:29
We’ve stopped at Marks Tey. (Pronounced “Tay,” of course.) I thought I would have to run to get to the next train within four minutes, but fortunately for my sense of orientation, it was right next to the arriving train I was on. It wasn’t a big station at all, only four platforms for two tracks.

This train isn’t big, either; it has just one car.

10:33
We’ve left Marks Tey. I now have two seats to myself, with two more across the aisle.

10:39
We’ve stopped at Lner. (?) Four people got off, and nobody got on.

10:41
People are much more talkative on National Rail trains than they are on the Tube. My last train had two people talking about evaluations of the higher education system, while this train features a family (with a girl of about three standing on her seat and looking out the window) two older women talking, and three teenagers in the back chatting about their weekend plans. Whereas on the Tube, people glare at you if you say, “Hi!”

10:46
We’ve stopped at Bures. No one got off, and three people got on.

10:55
Welcome to Sudbury! It seems like a bustling town, but that may be because it’s near lunchtime on a weekend. Everyone in town will be out right now.

I see a lot of older people. I wonder if this is an old-person town without a lot of kids.

11:01
I’ve walked into Roys, a grocery store with a coffee shop attached to it. I’ve bought a hot chocolate and have sat down to collect my things. (I had nearly zoned out when we arrived at the station, so I had hurriedly packed everything in my backpack and gotten off the train.)

Because I still have enough food at home for dinner, I only plan to on spending money to buy lunch here. Unless, of course, something comes up, like they have some special WWII stuff to buy here. It has to be a big deal, though, because I paid 20 quid to get out here!

11:15 (still in coffee shop)
In four weeks in Britain, I’ve learned at least this: If you don’t know what to do or how to act or what to say in a certain situation, watch someone first. I’ve applied this to the pronunciation of Lurpak, how to use my Oyster card at each Tube stop, and (just now) where to put my empty hot chocolate mug when I leave. (On the trolley.)

11:20 – 11:35
I’ve walked around town for a bit, looking for someone who might know where the old airfields are. …Wait, I didn’t explain my trip for you guys!

My grandfather, James R. Farris (far left, first row; thanks go to Uncle John), served in the U.S. Army Air Force during World War II. He was a navigator under pilot Ralph Clinard in a B-17 called Pursuit of Happiness, and his missions flew off from an airbase north of Sudbury. My goal for this trip is to see that old airbase, no matter what state it’s in now, so I can report back to my family that I’ve been there.

There. Now you’re caught up.

11:56
I’ve just spent 20 minutes in Best Wishes greeting cards shop looking for a good British Father’s Day card. (Found one!) Once I bought the card, I asked the cashier if she knew where the Sudbury airfields were. She asked an older man (the store manager?) to come over and see if he knew. He said that I should go back down the street I was on, pass the market, keep the church and post office on my right, go through a set of traffic lights and two roundabouts, and walk another half-mile to get there. He also said that there isn’t much there, which I had gathered from Internet photos, but he and I agreed (after I mentioned that my grandfather flew there) that it’d be a treasure just to say I was there.

And so begins the 20-minute walk to the Sudbury USAAF fields (at 12:10).

(By the way, I was wrong about the rain. The weather is beautiful here! I need to wear my sunglasses.)

12:13
A guy in… interesting garb crosses the street to tell me about a medieval fair with jousting and the whole bit. It goes from 12 to 5, so I tell him that I might make it. I tuck the flyer he gives me into my pocket to remind me.

12:38
I stopped after the second roundabout to review the directions given me and make sure I was going the right way. (I have a bad history of that.)

I am. I’m fine. Time to keep walking.

Songs I’ve listened to on my iPod up to this point

Fantomen, Frigg
R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A., John Mellencamp
Bulbous Bouffant, The Vestibules
The Best is Yet to Come, Frank Sinatra
Dedicated to You, John Coltrane

Random Observation
I walked by a house with two dogs, and one of them barked at me as I walked by. He didn’t have an accent.

12:57
In the middle of The Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” I made it.

Honestly, it blends into the surrounding countryside a lot. The only hints I had of coming up to it were signs saying it was Private Property of the Suffolk County Council. Once I walked up to the entrance, though, I found a rock with a plaque commemorating the U.S.A.F. 486th heavy bombardment group, with flowers (though fake) posted next to it on the fence.












I’m here.






















13:34
Time to head out.

Pretty desolate out there. Whereas B-17s and B-24s flew out of here for bombing missions, now a company grows parsnip & grains, and people walk dogs & ride mopeds because they’re too young to drive cars.

That’s okay with me. Though it would have been cool for some of the buildings to be maintained, some of its “airfield qualities” have stuck, thanks to asphalt’s ability to hamper the growth of plants. Like I told the kid I met while walking around, I could imagine an airfield here. And I did.

14:21
With a little detour at the McDonald’s toilet, I’ve made it back to the centre of town. That was much longer than the 20 minutes the store guy said it would take, but he still got me there, and I appreciate him for that.

Now for the jousting fair!

14:32
I just bought three apples for 57p. That’s a pretty good deal, considering my hot chocolate was £1.10.

14:50
Warning: Contains raunchy language from underage kids. Unruly Brits. Tsk.
So, I’m walking to the Delphi Club on Newton Road when I meet this group of kids. There’s a girl and three guys, and they all look about 15 years old. (Except for one kid. He looks about 13.) They say, “Hello!” and I say, “Hello,” back to them. They cross the street to meet me.

“Is that a good apple?” says what seems to be the leader of the group. (You remember how groups of friends worked at that age.)

“Very good,” I reply back. “I’ve had better, but I’ve had much worse.”

“Are you from America?” asks the youngest-looking one.

“How could you tell?” I reply facetiously, knowing that my accent gave me away.

“This country sucks! America is like Skate Heaven, but here…”

“So, what are you here for?” asks the leader before the other three laugh their asses off behind me.

The youngest kid says through his laughter, “Did you know you have a balloon coming out of your ass?”

I raise an eyebrow, and he continues. “No, you literally have a balloon stuck to your ass. I swear we didn’t put it there.”

I feel back there, and sure enough, I pull off an orange balloon from my ass, stuck there with some gooey white substance.

“It’s like you have cum on your ass.”

I sit next to a brick wall, trying to get as much “cum” off my ass as possible, while the four kids walk toward the jousting festival.

“See, that’s why this country sucks!” the youngest one says quite honestly.

…I believe them when they say, “I swear we didn’t put it there.” I didn’t feel them sticking the balloon on my ass. I probably sat on it somewhere.

…Wait, WHERE????? How long have I had a balloon stuck to my ass?!

15:23
I’m at the jousting festival, with most of the white sticky stuff off of my pants. Mary, you would have loved this fair! Although yours were more hands-on and had better attendance. Or maybe it just seemed that way because I was younger.

Either way, I couldn’t stay for long since my train was leaving at 16:00. I did have time to observe some things:

A lot of kids “fought” each other with wooden swords that their parents bought for them.

One kid asked a re-enactor if he knew about video games. Ha ha.

They served beer. …In an indoor bar that was part of the regular Delphi Club. But I still bought a cold pint of Foster’s. (I didn’t buy a sword, because I couldn’t hope to bring it back to the States.)

They weren’t jousting yet. That would only start at 16:00. Dang.

They roasted a HUGE hog. I didn’t buy any of it, since I had already bought a beer, three apples, a hot chocolate, and a train ticket today.

16:01
I missed the train.

You know that direction problem I mentioned earlier? [“(I have a bad history of that.)”] Yep, ‘cept this time is was because of a roundabout. I can’t say this in many places in the U.S., but I took the wrong left. I turned too early.

…Come to think of it, you CAN say that in the U.S. Just not within the same intersection. Basically:













I would have made it if I had turned down the correct road. I ran down here, too!)

16:09
I’ve thought about it, and I’ve decided that I won’t go back to the jousting fest. (See “yours… had better attendance” and “I ran down here, too!”)

16:38
I’m back at Roys grocery store/coffee shop for one last time. I’ve been reading the Guardian G2 section from last Thursday, and it has reminded me why I brought it home from work. There’s a great column from Sam Leith about whether sauropods were straight-necked or upright-necked, a long-form story about Ahnold’s political rise and fall, and an assumption-shattering Private Lives piece written by a woman who can’t smile. The stories have taken up my new-found time quite nicely.

16:58
My bladder threatened to derail me (see what I did there?), but I made it back to the station to see the train pull in. As we’re pulling away, I see a kid of about one year walking down the aisle. He stops and looks at a nudie mag open on someone’s seat. (The “someone” is an older guy who bought it as a joke.) The father comes up behind the kid and pushes him along. The funniest part is that the kid hesitates before he starts walking again!

17:00
I’m finally on my way to Marks Tey & Liverpool Street. It’s been a long day of walking and imagining and picking white stuff off the back of my pants, so I’ll take a nap. Or at least listen to music and just sit here.

17:20
I’m at Marks Tey, and the connecting train to London is “delayed by a broken down train.” Ay!

17:49
I’m still in Marks Tey. What gives???

17:56
National Express just issued an apology for a 48-minute delay. Oy.

I ask the info guy what’s up, and he says that a train broke down five hours ago in a place where no other trains could get around it, so everything’s backed up almost an hour.

18:09
It’s here! Now I can truly rest.

18:56
I’ve arrived at Liverpool Street, 40 minutes late. They didn’t even get the delay right!

Final observations

I’ve noticed this before, but the British countryside is beautiful.

I was wrong about the number of older people in Sudbury. There were a lot of kids and middle-agers walking around, and their numbers increased as the day went on. It’s a very vibrant small town, and I wouldn’t mind living there if it weren’t for London.