From Mushy Peas to Oysters

A quick Goose Fair visit, neon lights, rides and proper Nottingham nostalgia. There is something comforting about it never really changing. Same rides, same chaos, same smell of vinegar in the air. I had mushy peas, obviously. It is tradition. Slightly questionable texture, deeply familiar flavour. You do not go to Goose Fair for refinement.

Then straight down to Kent, which felt like a completely different world. Sea air, slower pace, and oysters on the menu instead of fairground carbs. From mushy peas to oysters in the space of a few days, quite the contrast. I think I know which I prefer. Hint: it is the one with lemon and a glass of something cold on the side. Funny how England can shift so dramatically just by changing postcode.