There is a point just before you hit publish on a new edition of the Sussex Exclusive Magazine that is an exquisite, acute and slightly agonising moment of excitement. You know it looks good. You know it is filled with lovely things. And yet somewhere between excitement, nerves and mild terror comes that familiar thought: Will people like it?
Putting your head above the parapet is never easy and, despite what people might tell you, it never really gets easier. Every edition is the culmination of many hours of work: planning, plotting pathways, getting out and about, writing, editing, proofing and perfecting. Producing a magazine is a little bit like giving birth, although with considerably more coffee and considerably less medical care.
But as I look back on this edition, more than anything I feel excitement. It really feels like summer. And while everyone else may only just be arriving at that summery vibe, I feel as though I have been living in summer mode for quite some time already.
Pivotal moments
With every edition, there are always moments, pivotal moments, that catch me by surprise. Despite knowing Sussex well, there are still occasions when I discover something unexpected, visit somewhere for the first time or suddenly connect dots I had never previously joined together. Those moments always find their way into the magazine. This time I found myself noticing unexpected threads between the artists and landscapes of the Bloomsbury Group in East Sussex and the striking modern art tucked inside Chichester Cathedral in West Sussex. I love it when those connections quietly bubble to the surface and reveal something new.
Beachcombing just after sunrise was probably one of my most memorable experiences of the year. I really wasn’t expecting what I got. I had rushed down to Bexhill, trying to beat the traffic and the sunrise, slightly frantic and slightly frazzled. I had miscalculated the tide times and how much time I had available. I didn’t know exactly where to find the dinosaur footprints I was searching for and quickly realised I wasn’t going to find them. I had to salvage something from the trip. So on a whim, I tried my hand at beachcombing. And what I found was a moment of real calm and serenity; a feeling of wellbeing I hadn’t anticipated. In many ways, that experience became a reminder of what this whole edition is really about.
Vineyard trails always delight me because they somehow offer far more than wine. There is often the smell of the sea in the air, a feeling of history in the landscape and a sense of places constantly evolving and changing. Somehow wine connects us to landscape in a very particular way. You feel the chalk, the slopes, the stories and the people. But I have do have an ongoing frustration about the lack of infrastructure between vineyards and a restless urge to keep exploring how to travel between them without a car. It can be done.
And perhaps that is also why I loved our anti-spa feature so much. It is easy enough to pack a bag and head to a spa and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. But what I am continually reminded of while exploring Sussex is that moments of real joy and wellbeing often arrive unexpectedly: watching the sun drop over the sea, finding a field of corn swaying gently in the breeze, stumbling across a sea of poppies or discovering a sculpture standing in precisely the right place. Those moments often stay with me far longer than the grander ones.
Fateful footsteps
Following in the footsteps of William the Conqueror has been a year-long journey that has taken me all over Sussex, beyond into the South East and now across the Channel into Normandy. Along the way, I may have fallen slightly in love with him, I hope Matilde doesn’t mind.
I have learned so much about William, about Sussex and about the bigger picture surrounding him. But as with everything, it is the smaller moments I remember most. Kneeling beside his tomb in Caen. Touching a tree he may once have touched. Standing on the Downs and looking towards the bay which he sailed into a thousand years ago. There have been a hundred small moments like that and together they have felt rather special.
I was also thoroughly surprised by the modern art trail. I hadn’t expected to be quite so captivated by the juxtaposition of Chichester Cathedral, with all its history and links to William, and these bold works of modern art sitting within it. There was one piece in particular that moved me far more than I expected and stopped me in my tracks.
Time to let go
So, as I hit publish and move on, it’s time for me to find another hero. I am going to find it surprisingly difficult to let William the Conqueror go.
And I am surprisingly desperate to get back out into Sussex.
There is always a week or so before publication where I become slightly deskbound. There are pages to proof, details to tweak and endless little jobs to finish. And I miss Sussex then. We have had beautiful weather over the last few days and I can feel it calling again. I feel restless. Restless and ready, perhaps, to turn my attention to the next adventure: our Best of the Best print edition.
If you have enjoyed this behind the scenes post about the latest edition of the Sussex Exclusive, you can read the magazine here: Sussex Exclusive Magazine
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