Yurting in East Sussex

I feel my fire tending skills are significantly undervalued by the bad luck of being born at the only point in human history they’re nonessential.

Our hybrid rental turned onto the dark country lane at the hand-painted sign reading “Dogwood Cottages” in search of our yurt. Hot take-away pizzas that we ordered on route were balancing on my lap so we could devour them for dinner, Mongolian-picnic style, when we arrived. We didn’t have directions, so I got out of the car to look for the yurt, squelching around in the mud and gravel by moonlight. When I found the white canvas dome with black swirls adorning the wooden double doors, I pushed them open to find a circular house/room complete with a queen sized bed, wood-burning stove and an electric kettle. Held up by a wooden skeleton, decorated by markets in India and crowned by a skylight, the kids were ecstatic about their weekend home.

First priority(always): build a fire. I do feel that my fire tending skills are significantly undervalued, by the bad luck of being born at the only point in human history they’re nonessential.

Jetboil french press at the yurt

There’s something primal and bonding about sleeping in one tent with your family and falling asleep to the warmth of a fire, little cheeks glowing pink. The reality, of course, is rambunctious children racing around throwing pillows in the air, giddy with the excitement that needs many 5 minute warnings to calm themselves into their sleeping bags.

Jet-boil french press coffee and leftover cold pizza outside on a sunny morning is one of my personal favourite breakfasts of champions. And the chickens agreed when they streamed in to investigate these new nomads. Between the chickens, the goats, the pony and the leftover pizza for breakfast, Dogwood was a success with the kiddies.

Based in the East Sussex countryside, we were close to Rye which is a medieval treasure of a town, that was once the playground of smugglers and sailor gangs. It’s been invaded several times by France (and Spain) due to its geography at the shortest point across the English Channel. To this American, I’m ceaselessly impressed with buildings that claim to be re-built in 1420, which is the story of The Mermaid Inn, that is authentically Tudor with low wooden beams, 4 ft doorways and stone fireplaces that dominate entire walls. It’s rumoured to have a secret underground passage to The Old Bell used by the Hawkhurst gang in the 18th century. We were charmed by the crooked, leaning buildings on Mermaid St. including the pleasing house self-described as “the house with two front doors”.

I’m ceaselessly impressed with buildings that claim to be re-built in 1420.

A century is not a measurement that seemed to stick with my 6 and 4 year olds. We tried to explain pre-Elizabethan with no success, but being before the Great Fire of London sunk in.

The Mermaid Inn: low wooden beams, 4 ft doorways and stone fireplaces that dominate entire walls.

SSunny, blustery lonesome beaches that feel like a secret.

Walking from the car park heavy with local bakery snacks and apples from home, the Rye Harbour and nature reserve were sunny flashes reflecting off the wetlands leading down to the sea. There’s a useful cafe located in the small museum. To the east, horses were running on Camber Sands beach. To the West, the sand stretches to Winchelsea Beach. Sunny, blustery lonesome beaches that feel like a secret. The girls insist on getting damp and sandy making sandcastles.

The rest of the day was spent eating, drinking and doing gymnastics off the canons in the castle “gun garden” (not me). I recommend having drinks on the terrace at the Mermaid Inn (where we also got through our school weekend reading), buying something fabulous and vintage at Tallulah & Rose (which our daughter Tallulah demanded we find once spotted on the map) and dinner at the quirky Globe Inn Marsh. Most of which are second hand recommendations from the now-local Karis Gesua, co-founder of Lickalix ice lollies, which are stocked all over town (and at Waitrose). Stunning place to call home.

The rest of the day was spent eating, drinking and doing gymnastics off the canons in the castle “gun garden”.

Trying to make the most of the weekend, we took the long way back to London through the South Downs, stopping at the quaint East Dean for brunch, which is also the fictional retirement location of Sherlock Holmes. Birling Gap (National Trust) is an ideal place to stop to walk the beaches under the limestone cliffs of Seven Sisters. Hike up the South Downs to the East to reach Beachy Head.

Seven Sisters

Winter Yurt camping is on the cards as a new annual weekender plan. With our 4 year-old now flexible, we’ll be looking for more unusual places to stay in the future. Lighthouses, castles and bothies, here we come.