Apparently the Battle of Hastings was all over the inability of William the Conqueror to find a parking spot anywhere near the vicinity of the new castle he was building. He fought some English dude, killed him, took his spot and called himself King of England. As for me, I just walked for 25 minutes to the castle after driving around the town unsuccessfully looking to park the Ford Focus.
Now let's travel back in time a bit, to that moment this morning when I set out for a 60 minute run. It wasn't until I had run a very comfortable first km that I realised it was very downhill, but would be uphill on the return. This pretty much described 10 km.
Back to the B and B where eggs and bacon and croissant and juice awaited. Thank you exercise.
So we did Hastings castle, back home for lunch and a perfectly made burnt toasted sandwich. They have given us so much food and it's bad not to eat it. I even worked out how to use the coffee pod machine.
Then it was off to Rye. Another day, another church.
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