A Trip to the Matinee

A Trip to the Matinee

Yesterday was a bit of an eye-opener. The mother-in-law is staying for a few days, and so we've been getting out and about a bit more. She lives abroad, and so her visits tend to be condensed into perhaps a week, a couple of times a year.

In the past, she and Anna (my Mrs, the boss!) Have often gone to see a play in Eastbourne together. Usually on those occasions, I was left behind, but not yesterday! Yesterday being Wednesday, was matinee day. A trip to Eastbourne had been rumoured and then rejected the night before, but this was resurrected mid-morning when the sun came out.

I was driver, so committed, and we booked three seats for a play called "Rope" at the Devonshire Park Theatre in Eastbourne. I haven't been to a live performance in decades, and wasn't sure if I would survive, but it was a nice day, and it's quite a pleasant journey across the Marsh, past Rye, Hastings, Bexhill, Pevensey etc. The coastal route, a scenic journey, but perhaps an annoying one, if cracking on is your aim.

It was a delightfully sunny day and as we passed through each town, lots of people were out enjoying the sunshine. As we waited traffic lights near the seafront in Hastings, I saw a group of gents gathered round a table drinking ale in the bright sunshine (well, some had lager!). I imagined them as pirates, slapping each other on the back drunkenly, and “Arrrrrh- Arrrrrhing”! (It seemed apt to me, anyway!)

Hastings isn't the town it was, or should be. It's still got a seaside “Kiss me Quick” resort charm, but choosing June to carry out roadwork’s suggested an idiot “at the wheel” to me. Then, as you travel down the seafront you see the naked bones of the burnt-out, and rusting-away Pier. A Wreck, that draws the eye, and brings sadness to what should be a happy place. Far sadder still would be demolition, the shabby way to deal with an eyesore.

Hastings needs it's pier, it's an attraction and a focal point, it should be repaired and back in action, double quick, not lay there like a rotting carcass. The other thing Hastings needs is a good road connection to London, without which it will remain a blighted town with higher unemployment as an unnecessary result.

I suspect that what Hastings needs most are people with “fire in their belly” running the show, making happen.

We pressed on towards genteel Eastbourne. On past theatre trips they'd often stopped at a Little Chef near Pevensey which fitted matinee timing, so we pulled in only to find it boarded up and in a state of advancing decay behind concrete barriers. A real shame, because the Little Chef's always provided useful facilities, reliably, as you knew what to expect. I guess that the Little Chef story is an exercise in how to get it wrong by first getting it right and then standing still whilst the market moves on by. They used to be all over the place, didn’t they.

The Devonshire Park Theatre is a delightfully intimate sort of place that has survived from a previous era. It felt friendly from the outset. Its biggest drawback is parking, made worse this week with preparations for the tennis (which will no doubt be far worse next week when the tennis actually arrives!). It didn't help my temper much that the car park across the park from the theatre had been isolated due to tennis operations, and not even one of the footpath's that criss-cross the park had been left open, which had all the look of arrogant planning. Arrogant, because Joe Public’s needs were simply brushed aside in all of it.

Luckily, to offset my grumblings, the play itself "Rope", a thriller, was very enjoyable, and I'm glad I went. I think that it’s more than likely that my decades of theatrical avoidance have come to an end!

Thanks for reading, hope I haven't gone on too long, Dan