Lyme Regis, First Impressions
Back in September of 2019 I'm looking at town names on Google Maps when I notice how close I am to Lyme Regis. I’m traveling with my family to the coast of Devon, and we decide to make an unplanned stop. Jane Austen wrote about this seaside town in Persuasion*, and I find her descriptions online and read them aloud as we near the roundabout for our detour.
The first thing I notice from The Cobb Gate car park is a bright pink building, first in line of the long row above the beach. The shore is made up of small brown, white, and gray stones, but there is a small strip of sand running into the sea as well. The expanse of sand is probably much bigger when the tide is completely out.
Three children are laughing and squealing as they swim in the sea, one last swim before summer vacation is over perhaps. It’s not too windy in this protected spot. Big boulders are piled along one side, and I can see tall rolling hills of green and brown in the distance. They disappear from view in the mist.
I spy a promising looking corner bookshop on the main road. It is filled to the brim with stacks and shelves of books—so many books! But there aren’t just books in the shop; it is filled with all kinds of things. Random things. There are lava lamps, old paintings, and a trombone leans against a bookshelf in the corner. Rickety wooden steps invite you to go downstairs, but the shop is about to close, so there is no time to go down. My daughter finds an ordinance survey map of Scotland my husband is looking for, and I give the preoccupied shopkeeper a two-pound coin before stepping back onto the main street.
Red, white, and blue bunting hangs across the street joining the two rows of shops and restaurants. It’s a low uphill climb to the top of the street. When I look back I can just see a rectangle of blue sea and sky beyond. It starts to rain lightly. My daughter and I turn around to walk back down the street. Suddenly a man steps quickly out of a bakery on the opposite side of the street with a big bell in his hand. I'm just beginning to wonder what he's up to when he raises his arm and rings the bell loudly, calling out in a deep voice: “World-class quiches one pound fifty!” Clang! Clang! Clang! World-class quiches one pound fifty!” and walks back into the shop in two long strides. I look at my daughter, and we burst out laughing. She supposes that it’s closing time, and everything is marked down. I love the idea of a small town crier coming out into the street every night to let everyone know the price of bread is now reduced.
I hope one day to visit Lyme Regis again. My stop is such a quick one, and I am in complete agreement with Jane when she writes:
“...a very strange stranger it must be, who does not see charms in the immediate environs of Lyme, to make him wish to know it better.”
*I use affiliate links for Bookshop.org. A Few more pictures around Lyme can be found in the Picture Gallery.