Invading Ipswich

It was the thought of eating a marsala dosa that dragged me out of bed and onto a train (well two Greater Anglia trains actually) heading for Ipswich, in Suffolk

I didn't sleep well that night, yes, yet again, so I was slightly discombobulated with half my brain dormant and the other yearning for matchsticks (to keep my eyes open).

Oh, incidentally, Ipswich is the oldest Anglo-Saxon town in England. That is to say that two types of Germanic tribes, the Angles and the Saxons, took over in England after the Romans had gone, that was before the ‘Danes’ (Vikings) started to do the very same to them, and destroyed the original small town of Ipswich.

Also see “https://www.history.org.uk/.../anglo-saxons-a-brief...'.

But what of the Celts? Well they were effectively crushed by the invading Romans (eventually), but that was before the Angles and Saxons clubbed together to get called the Anglo-Saxons.

In places Ipswich (derived from the medieval name 'Gippeswic', probably taken either from an Old Saxon personal name or from an earlier name of the Orwell estuary) is stunningly beautiful. But you have to look for the beauty, it's there, but hidden.

The good thing is that there are a few interesting eateries. Chennai Dosa being one such. I had missed dosa ever since I left Malaysia. It's my favourite breakfast, and (Paal) apam running a close second. I did have dosa, once, in Siem Reap, but it was too oily. Then again (twice) in Phnom Penh, which was better, and again in Colchester but that was dreadful. The masala dosa, in Chennai Dosa, Ipswich, was excellent but only available after 11.30am. Hardly breakfast time.

I arrived in the town early, and purposely sought out Ipswich's beauty. I was so lucky to have such beautiful early spring weather to wander around in. Thank you Cosmos.

Footnote, Eric Blair took his pen name from the River Orwell and St. George, the patron saint of England, to become George Orwell.