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Last week I got to spend a Monday night in Newhaven and this week it's a Tuesday night in Hastings. Anyone who thinks making a movie is glamorous should hang around with me. Because all their suspicions will be confirmed!
If you are expecting to see loads of Normans with their willies out in Hastings, then I am afraid the Bayeaux Tapestry lied to you. The Battle of Hastings took place in Battle, a place specifically chosen for the battle, because of its name, Battle. Stupid thing to name yourself, unless you want a battle. The people of Battle were asking for it. Sorry, that's just what I think.
There are two Premier Inns in Hastings, one right in the thick of it, by the station, perfect for someone looking for an eventful Tuesday night in Hastings and the other up in the north of the town out on an industrial estate. I was staying in the latter -which was cool with me. I just wanted to go to bed and the men of Hastings still walk around with their cocks out, even on a Tuesday
So isolated out by the ring road north of Hastings my dining choices were limited to Macdonalds, Brewers Fayre (the pub attached to my hotel) or Sainsburys. I walked through the pub and it was just too depressing a prospect to join the smattering of solo business people who were spread out across the large room. I didn't want a stomach full of Macdonalds to stop me sleeping and to make me feel shit during filming tomorrow, so I went to Sainsburys and bought three Taste the Difference party foods for only £8 (I went for chorizo and chicken parcels, the weird cold omelette thing and some spicy olives) and went back to eat that in my room. Which was still less tragic that any of the other options.
Twenty years ago a night like this would have made me want to end it all, but I was as happy as it's possible to be in Hastings. I watched the football, ate my food, considered the choices in my life that had led me to this awful place.
