Aldeburgh

Listening to an interesting interview with the Times music critic about Benjamin Britten and Aldeburgh, descriptions of the countryside and sea reminded me of a holiday in my childhood spent there. Not that I have any high cultural memories: my main recollections were burning the ironing board by leaving the travel iron switched on, and my mother and I having fits of giggles in a changing room. I was trying on bathing suits, and we found a perfectly awful one with a kind of skirt which looked very funny indeed. The sight of this set us off until we were both in helpless hysterics, much to the bewilderment of the poor shop owner. Aldeburgh was very small and villagey, with a local baker. We used to collect freshly made rolls every day for breakfast with coffee. The house was by the seafront, so the sea views were splendid. The ironing board incident probably prevented us from being invited back there.