Stormy Weekend and other stuff

By the time Friday evening came round, the pressure of dropping me off and then Jools going to look after Nan was getting hard to bear; not that she or I resented that, but after a hard days work, it was hard work again. And so Friday night, on the eve of her parents return, she fed Nan and came back. and so we had and evening together. Although we were both tired, it was great to sit on the sofa listening to music and just being with each other.

The promised storm arrived with much huffing and puffing on Saturday, and after I went to Tesco and Jools to see Nan and give her her breakfast, we headed back home, had flavoured coffee and hot butter croissants before heading down to St Margaret's Bay to see the waves crashing up the beach and the ferries struggling to get into Dover.



The light ever changed and as I had my cameras with me, I snapped away to my hearts content.



Back home for lunch of toasted cheese sandwiches and then me settle down to watch an afternoon of sport; mainly international football, but some rugby too. The wind howled outside, and the rain poured down. We lit the fire and piled up the logs on the fire, we sat the evening through watching the flames eat the logs and loving the crackles as each knot burned.

Sunday dawned grey and windy, but with the promise of sun later. Perhaps. A few weeks ago, when Andrew and myself went to the Bluebell Railway, we had passed through Hastings, and I thought it had photographic potential. And so we drove out to Ashford and then south west across the Romney Marsh to Rye and then along the coast to Hastings. The rain stopped, and some kind of brightness was in the air.

We parked the car and Jools realised that she had forgotten her jacket, and as the wind was keen, there was no other way than for her to go and buy a new one. Whilst she found the shops I wandered round the abandoned fun fair and in-between the fishing fleet grounded on the stony beach.



I came to the Maritime and Fisherman's Museum; all around were these wonderful tall wooden sheds, called net shops, where nets and fishing tackle were hung up to dry so not to rot. But now looking like some Tim Burton-esque film set with old fishing boats laying between them.



Jools called that she had her coat, and we arranged to meet back at the car and then find somewhere to have a cuppa and maybe a bit for brunch. Across the main road, we saw a narrow high Street, and there was a great little place where we ordered coffees and then pancakes with lots of maple syrup and bananas for Jools and bacon for me.

It was just what we needed, and once full of coffee and pancakes we headed off up the promenade to see the pier and a wonderful art deco building I had spied. The wind blew, but we wrapped ourselves up and loved walking and people watching.



The pier is closed now and in a sorry state; it looked like it might fall down after what looks like decades of neglect. But I took pictures; many pictures. South of the pier is a double-decked promenade bult in the 30s, and still impressive. It provided some great lookouts and picture opportunities.



We made it to St Leonards and the Marine Court; I dutifully snapped it; the light was perfect and I got some great shots; or I think so!



And so we turned round and walked back to the pier. The skies grew dark and we took shelter in a hotel bar and I had a wonderfully warming winter ale; and the rain hammered on the window.

The shower passed; and we headed out back to the promenade and for me to take more pictures. we ended back at the museum, and found another cafe and had tea and chips; just what we wanted.

And as the light faded, we got back into the car and headed back for Kent and home.