Is It Just Me?

A volcano erupts in Iceland and the world as we know it comes to a grinding halt because the resulting cloud of ash is so thick it can bring down any plane fool hardy enough to attempt to fly......and yet, we can't see it. In fact, not only is this monstrous cloud invisible from the ground, but we here in the south of England have experienced the best weather so far this year. Coincidence? Well I don't think so. How come since the day of this natural disaster we have enjoyed unbroken sunshine? The skies above are clear, and blue and sunglasses have become a hand-bag must. Not that I'm complaining, I'm all for a little peace and quiet over-head, it's just that....it's too quiet. However, my trip to Worthing was vastly improved by the splendid sort of sunset one might expect over the Serengeti rather than a retirement stronghold on the south coast.

I was in Worthing to visit a friend who has recently moved there due to fact that it is vastly cheaper than Brighton and it's ersatz neighbour Hove, rather than taking voluntary retirement from the modern world. To show off the south coast at it's best, on the Sunday we took a drive to Little Hampton where I don't think I've been since I was a teenager (something to do with a bottle of Blue Nun and the funfair, if memory serves....) and had lunch at the now famed East Beach Cafe. A favourite with the weekend magazines, this brilliant seaside cafe is housed in the extraordinary Heatherwick building, often reffered to as 'visionary' it looks like something out of The Flintstones. Now I know that living in London I am spoiled for choice when it comes to food, simply the best, better than all the rest, from the humblest bowl of creamy, homemade humus, drizzled with olive oil at a local Lebanese, or going nose-to-bowl with a Vietnames Pho, to macaroons at Sketch or pay-the-difference bubble & squeak at the esteemed Wolseley. And the thing that gets me about food elsewhere is that it tends to live on the dodgy corner of fine-dinning and tries-too-hard. Despite excellent, fresh ingredients and often very skilled chefs, there seems to be the 1990s need to daub everything with a raspberry coulis or, in a nod to the naughties, sprinkle the cod, steak or homemade sausage with blueberries. Simple food cooked well is not enough for the discerning northern diner of epicurean from Ipswich, it is not enough to just pan-fry the salmon fillet, it must be accompanied by a capaccio of carrot, a sushi of strawberry and a smear of jus........enjoy. However, the East Beach Cafe gets it right. We had between us crunch-crispy battered cod, plump-pink fishcakes, mushy peas, spinach and the best chips I've eaten this year.....don't get me started on the sticky toffee pudding and double-creamy vanilla ice cream. And the sun shone. Littlehampton? We could have been sipping our Rose at a cafe on the croisette at Cannes.........if you squinted in the direction of the sea.

However, despite this clement weather, I'm wearing a jumper but this is no ordinary jumper, this is a designer jumper and because it's April it was in the sale. So I managed to save myself a whopping £120 pounds by purchasing this woollen gem and because this is England I still get to wear it even when the sun is shinning.

Top tip: Check out the back of the boutique and clear out the sale rail of next year's winter woolies.