Janice Turner: Why I love the Suffolk coast – The Times

Eight years ago we bought the house of the poet Herbert Lomas. “Nothing but pebbles,” he wrote of Aldeburgh, “the beach doesn’t prettify itself, or pretend to be kind to the feet, or not cold. The wind comes from the Urals even in summer.”

The Suffolk coast is neither dramatic like Cornwall nor enticing like the Med. It is a stack of horizontal lines in Farrow & Ball greys — the shingle matches the sea and, too often, the sky. The North Sea is a utilitarian working sea, not for nervous swimmers. There is a rip current in Aldeburgh that drags you down the beach, and a steep bank minting low yet mean waves that boot you rudely off your feet as you’re getting out.