The route to Overstrand got even more overgrown with bracken (ferns, nettles, brambles, to name a few), but the scenery was as spectacular as ever, with the white walls of the lighthouse, chalky hills covered with wildflowers that set a great contrast with the stormy skies (we caught the rain at least twice while climbing the hilltops) and the pristine lawns of the golf club with the same quiet and snooty players (no unfriendly stares from their side this time, however). A tiny bunny suddenly jumped on our path but ran away and disappeared into the prickly bushes immediately.
A few new things emerged on the route, too: several info signs here and there with old photos of the place itself and quotes from retro celebrities of the era (Wilde who preferred golf over writing at the Hotel de Paris etc), but for the most part, everything remained the same, and it was blissful.
The Cliff Top Cafe offered the usual lovely lunch—scampi with chips and tartare sauce and incredible Bakewell tart with coffee as dessert: lots of well behaved good bois watched their hoomans enjoying themselves and never growled. And you simply cannot leave the place without buying several Green Pebble cards.
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