Tuesday

Market day in Kings Lynn.

Not that we would be heading that way; not today at least.

After Monday's success in snapping the train at Dover, we knew that another was heading across the Romney Marsh to Rye and then on to Hastings on Tuesday, and so I agreed to pick Gary up at half ten before heading west to the Marsh.

Earlier that day, the weather looked very different than forecasted, the grey was leaden and heavy, and the rain poured down. After dropping Jools off for her last day at work before Christmas and then onto Tesco before the crowds turned up, mainly to get milk and vegetables.

Tesco was fairly empty, and I rushed round picking up things we needed, and was out again within 20 minutes and heading home.



As the morning went on, the sky lightened, the rain stopped and the sun broke through. By ten it was glorious and the light wonderful. I braved the traffic heading to the port and went to pick Gary up and then heading over the roundabout near the port and his house and we were soon heading up the A20 to Folkestone and beyond.



As the train was not expected until one fifteen, we had time to do other stuff. There was one picturesque church on the coast road to Romney in Dymchurch. We stopped off there and both snapped away; sadly the door was locked, as expected, but the golden light and blue skies made for great shots.



It was then out to Dungeness, where there is a nuclear power station and a collection of what were once fishermen's cottages, but are now mainly a bohemian art community. Built on the shingle beach, it is an odd place, especially with the power station in the background and the narrow gage railway, The Romney Hythe and Dymchrurch Railway. There are two lighthouses, old and new ones, and along the high tide mark, a collection of fishing boats that had been dragged up the beach until needed again.



We took pictures, but shivered in the chilly wind, and then headed inland to the picturesque church at Fairfield near Brookland. The light was so great, and the colours so vivid, it all looked so un-natural, we carried on snapping.



And then onto Rye where there is a bridge carrying the railway over the river, and should make a good view.
We were expecting plenty of warning after the smoke and steam of yesterday, but it seems the weather had other ideas. A toot of the whistle told us it was coming. The train just trundled over the bridge with little steam or smoke, and was gone just as quickly. We had our shots, and before heading back to Dover.



We stopped at one of my favourite pubs, the Woolpack at Brookland, built in 1420, it is all narrow beams and uneven floors. With a huge open fireplace with seats in the chimney breast, two cats snoozed in the warmth of the fire. I had a pint of Autumn Gold and we each had a sandwich. Nothing quite beats sitting in such a place on a cold winter's day nursing a pint of winter warming ale.

That evening, Jools and I headed to the Harbour Board Social Club for a Christmas dinner and dance. They hadn't sold enough tickets and friends and family of people who worked there were offered to swell the numbers for a tenner. The food was great, especially the roast and vegetables. We left before the music began, as we had plans to be awake early the next morning.