Monday 8th March 2010

Welcome to winter; the return! Or so it seems. Even though it was sunny over the weekend, it was cold, but the sight of the sun in clear blue skies we could kid our brain, if we ignored the frostbite in our fingers that spring was here, or at least just around the corner. Snowdrops and crocuses are out, daffodils are budding, and the birds are busy trying to do the things birds are famous for at this time of the year; making more birds.

The bees are quiet on that subject, as yet.

After a busy Friday morning, as detailed before, I thought I would go out in the car, as the weather was set fair and all. As the roads were gridlocked down Dover way due to accidents, I headed north to Ramsgate, as when the sun shines it can double for somewhere on the med, with its yachts and pastel coloured cafes and bars reflected in the harbour.

On the way, I got the shot at the old power station at Richborough that dominated East Kent. It dates from the time when coal was mined from under Kentish feet. When the mines closed so the Richborough. There seems no hurry to pull it down, and so stands as a relic of times past.



I parked down by the ferry terminal in Ramsgate, as there is an old art deco lift and facade near there I wanted to snap, and then down by a litter-strewn road to the harbour and the yachts and boats, playthings of the rich and great of Thanet lay at anchor.



In truth it's not a bad place, quite beautiful, really. Where the cliffs rise from the marina, a brick face was put up years ago, and now it looks like a ruddy coloured cliff instead of the chalk it would otherwise be. Building rise out of the brick, all rusty red in colour, and reflected too in the waters of the harbour.



I walk round to the north wall of the harbour where there is a barge tied up with six more bases for wind-turbines. I had thought they would make for fine pictures, and so snapped away to my heart's content.



That night we decided to go out for a meal. I remember seeing a nice looking pub out in the sticks in Stourmouth when Mum was here back in August. Through the magic of the interwebs we had a look at the menu and we decided to drive out onto the marshes to see if they could squeeze us in.

As it happens, it was very quiet and so we sat down at a nice table by the open fire and ordered paella for two to share and some garlic bread and sat down and waited. It was wonderful, all shrimp, spicy sausage, herbs, garlic, tomatoes and lots of rice; all very nice, and there was so much of it we passed on dessert too.

It was a very pleasant drive back home, through the winding lanes under the pale moonlight.

Saturday was cold and grey, and we ended up not doing very much in truth. I ended up doing chores around the house then watching of listening to football all afternoon. Not as exciting as it should have been, but Norwich won again, and not wanting to tempt fate too much, things are going much, much better these days.

Sunday was a glorious day, although once again it was cold but sunny. We decided to go for a walk around the village and end up on the beach at the bay; at the feet of the white cliffs.
The fields are ready for planting, or already have been, and there seems to be green shoots in places, we stomped passed the main part of the village and then along to the Dover patrol which is right on the cliff edge. Sadly, the cafe was closed, and so we decided to walk down into the bay and see if the tea shack would be open there.



Always glorious here are the views over to France and the ships either crossing between England and France or large container ship and tankers heading to destinations unknown.

Down in the bay, the tide was well out, revealing large area of flattened chalk and other rocks. Along the coast a way, a large part of the cliff had fallen, I tried to get along there, among the rockpools and boulders to get a closer look, but going was tough, with seaweed making the rocks slippery. I made do with grand panoramas of the bay with wonderfully huge skies above.



We walked back via an ornamental garden and then, as the garden was bereft of much colour due to the earliness of the season, and made our way up the steeps steps back up the cliffs to the village and then across the fields to home.

Once home we cooked a pizza and had coffee and a big slice of Limoncello and Grappa Tart, before deciding that we would head out to enjoy the sunshine of the afternoon.

In Margate, all weekend, they had ATV and motorbike racing over the dunes, and I thought it would be good for photography, maybe.
I knew the fuel tank was low before we set off, and the light came on as we came into Ramsgate; but we would find a gas station in Margate, wouldn't we? Or so we thought. We passed many that were now tyre shops or hand car washes, which have sprung up everywhere. The fuel gauge got lower and lower, and in desperation we ended up at Westward Cross; a huge shopping mall and strip mall which serves all of Thanet.

We got fuel in Tesco and headed back into Margate parking in our favourite place, in the deserted Lido car park. Most people had jammed the roads near the race track, but it was just a 15 minute walk, and not hard. But cold.



Once we had seen one start and race, the novelty soon wore off; quadbikes jumped and whizzed round turns; I snapped away a lot, and then after doing some people watching amongst the fairground rides that lined the main road, we headed back to the car; much colder, but rosy cheeked.



Once back home i put a chicken in the oven, cooked and then roasted potatoes, made a Yorkshire Pudding and steamed some vegetables, and within a couple of hours we sat down to a fine dinner; not bad at all.