Saturday 17 April 2010

Saturday 17th April 2010

Some 14 years ago, my life changed forever. At about five o'clock, my Dad was making his way home from work, as he had dome for many years, and as he walked his bike over the bridge at Oulton Broad, his heart gave up, and he fell to the floor never to wake up.
It turned out to be my last day at work at RAF Laarbruch in Germany, as I had to be flown back to help with Mother with the funeral and the other stuff. Some of the other stuff being that my Grandfather passed away three days later. Seriously. It was a tough time, but I got through it. Today was that day, the 17th of April, but life continued, as so did I. Doesn't mean I didn't think about Dad, I just lived for the present. Which is what he would have wanted.

And on this very day, my team, our team, Norwich City, got promoted from League 1. Some times good things happen, sometimes bad things. We just never know, which is the whole life thing. And I believe how we cope with the highs and lows that life throws at us, is what makes us different.

So Dad, this one is for you. Cheers!

It's been a good day; really. We woke up to a glorious dawn, mist had formed in the valley beneath our house, and the sun rose and shone through it in a most wonderful way. We had breakfast, and then got in the car and headed up the A2 towards London.

But we did not go to London, we went shopping.Shopping; something we don't do very often, just when the need arises. Jools needed some stuff, and so we went to Bluewater; a mall built in the bottom of a chalk quarry just outside Dartford on the banks of the Thames.

Near London.

It is a bit chav; no, it's all chav, but glorious in a temple to shopping kind of way. I took pictures of course, and got some good shots. Jools got what she wanted. We also got chilli peanuts; peanut crunchy things, seven seed bread, wasabi peanuts and all sorts of stuff. And as the crowds thickened, we left.

And then to Greenhithe and for a walk. Crossing the Thames just upriver from here is Dartford, and the main crossing of the ; the tunnel and bridge at Dartford. A friend of mine walked last week under the bridge, and I had seen some of his pictures. It was a glorious day; not a breath of wind, and with no aircraft flying, no clouds or contrails to spoil a clear blue sky.

We walked through industrial units and an ASDA before getting to the river bank, and then along a winding bank until we were under the bridge's shadow. I took pictures all the time, and it was wonderful. Even though we were the only people on the river bank, a couple of hundred feet above us, traffic thundered across the river.

We walked back to where we left the car, stopping off at a riverside pub for a beer and to watch the Manc derby. It was awful, and so we went back to the car and drove home, after I sacrificed the second half and more beer so to be home and watch the Norwich game on a P2P site.

Thursday afternoon panned out quite well too. I decided to head out in the car, in the vague direction of a village we had walked through a few weekends ago. Needless to say, I took the wrong turn, and found myself driving down a lane barely wider than the car, and no idea where I would end up.

St Mary the Virgin, Hastingleigh

I came to a village called Hastingleigh, pretty enough, and then I caught sight of a sign to the church. Down a narrow lane, and a left turn down another lane even narrower, and there was a perfect little church, nestling in the folds of the countryside. A family was having a picnic in the churchyard, whilst sheep looked on from the other side of the fence, curious.

St Mary the Virgin, Hastingleigh

I snapped away; I tried the door, it should have been open, but was locked fast. Oh well. I got back in my car and drove west.
I ended up driving over an area of high ground, and below was the small town of Wye. I remembered seeing pictures of the town and it being worthy of a visit. The road and I headed down into the narrow streets and parked beside the impressive parish church.

The New Flying Horse, Wye

The church was open, and grand as befitting a town of some wealth. I snap away, and then my thoughts turned to a beer or two. Well, one as I was driving. I walk around the village centre and end up in a fine inn; the New Flying Horse. I have no idea what happened to the old flying horse, but this one had a fine selection of ales, and a garden to sit in and savour the moment.

The New Flying Horse, Wye

Time then to drive back to Dover, to collect Jools from work, and wonder of the splendour of the dust-induced sunset.

Wye Station, Kent

I went onto the cliffs to wait for the sun to set, and got chilled to my bone as the wind blew through my thin coat. But I got some shots, as the sun set in pinks rather than reds and oranges.

Eyjafjallajoekull Sunset

And so; Friday. My last full day of unemployment; or the last working day. And I decide after the usual visit to Tesco, to head to somewhere special; Leeds Castle.

Leeds, there are two at least in England, is home to a fine castle built on two islands in a lake, and once visited by numerous Kings and Queens of this land.

Leeds Castle

The castle looks wonderful in it's setting, surrounded on all sides by daffodil covered banks, with glorious fluffy clouds overhead. I know a short cut, and get to the front of the early arrivals crossing the 17th fairway of the golf course, round the edge of the moat and in the castle rushing round to get pictures with few, if any, people in them.

Leeds Castle

When I come out, yummy and slummy mummies are taking their darlings for picnics and visits to play areas, with little thought for the wonderful surroundings. Just seeing it as somewhere to take the kids. It seems this season's fashion is for leggings, and some who have legs like tree trunks make the leggings opaque and their underwear visible. Stomachs turned.

I walked back to the car ark though a faux woodland with a tamed stream winding through scattered trees with sting flowers underneath. I t was and looked wonderful; the families walked by with their fake tans and hair extensions unaware of the beauty laid on for their delectations.

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