Well, despite th egloomy forcasts, we had a wonderfull day. Drove to Maldon (as in maldon salt), on the edge of the Blackwater estuary, Essex. The estuary itself was in low tide when we came, which means mud as far as you can see with ships and barges scattered over it like olives on a pizza. Quite surealistic.
All in all, Maldon is nice but not worth the 2 hour drive (unless you've registered for the mud race). However, from there we drove on, to St. Peter-on-the-wall in Bradwell. Aparently, the oldest chapel in England. It sits in the middle of a vast oat field, behind a sea wall that protects it from the waves. You can walk up to it, into it, and beyound it - to the sea. I do miss the sea!
As we discovered, "sea" here is quite a different concept than back home. Apparently, England is actually a big mud pie someone tried to throw at the french and missed. The sea-side here is just the edges of this big mud-pie slowly oosing off. In fact, there's an Island in the Blackwater estuary called ouse, but that's a story for another night.
Anyway, when we finaly go tdown to the beach we found that the border between land and water is a strip of odd hunks of clay / mud, strewn with seaweed. They looked like sleeping trolls just back from the hairdresser. Totaly bizzare, beautiful and even sensuous - in an English way.