Saturday 14th November 2015

Sometimes the world can seem a cruel and unfair and hate-filled place. But that is only if we let it. I have traveled, I have met people, and for the most part, we all want the same thing. If we let believe the hawks and haters and the lies they tell us, then the rest of the world hates us and all what we stand for, and in order to protect what we stand for, we must all give up all what we stand for. To protect our freedom we must give up our freedoms. And so on. If we let hate begat hate, hate will rule forever more. Let love win, love thy neighbour, love the immigrant, love those we do not understand. What the world needs now is less, not more bombs and violence.

In the words of a wise American man, in the mouth of fear of reds under the bed, said this:

"We must remember always that accusation is not proof and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law. We will not walk in fear, one of another. We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men — not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate and to defend causes that were, for the moment, unpopular." See it Now (1954) - Edward R Murrow.

Substitute reds for Muslims, and you will see. I am not a fearful man.

Friday

And I am back home! Which does mean no commute to an office, no steaming in traffic, just waving Jools goodbye as she drives off to the office, then I go and put the coffee pot back on for a refill. But I do have plenty to do, so as soon as I have quenched my thirst for coffee, I get down to work and what with meetings, writing mails and reviewing documents, it is lunchtime before I know it.

I have a sandwich, tidy up some final lose ends before I feel it is time for the weekend to begin. My plan had been to walk into Dover along the cliffs. The morning had dawned clear and bright with lots of sunshine, but clouds had swept in from the west and now it was raining. The BBC promised this would clear by two, but it seemed hopeful to say the least. But, I look out and to the best there seems to be blue sky, so why not, eh?

I take just my waterproof jacket and a my camera, its all I need really. Down and then up Station Road, into the village before walking through the churchyard, across Reach Road then striking out over the fields to South Foreland Light. By the time I arrived at the lighthouse, the sky had cleared and it was a glorious afternoon, but already the sun was sinking in the west.

Down the narrow path past the lighthouse and onto the clifftops. At least at this time there are few others about, and it feels like I have them to ourselves, but those I do pass I nod a greeting, as they do to me. The rain has cleared the atmosphere, and the French coast was clear, as was the building in Calais some 25 miles or so away. And the ferries were scuttling between the cliffs on either side of the Channel.

No matter how many times you see them, the cliffs are breathtaking, even more so on a fine autumnal day, as the clouds had cleared.

The sun was already low in the west, making shooting towards the harbour difficult, but I tried....

After all the foot traffic to the Fan Bay Deep Shelter, the cliff tops have taken a battering from the numbers of visitors, very bad erosion indeed, the worst I have seen where the grass has been worn away.

Around the top of Fan Bay to Langdon Hole, with spectacular views to the Eastern Arm and the queues of trucks waiting to cross the Channel.

I walk round Langdon, joining up with the old cliff railway before continuing to walk down under the NT's place to where the views overlooking the ferry terminal were the most impressive....

The final stretch along the Cliff Road, up the slope to the NT's place before another short walk along the cliff edge before down the steep path under Jubilee Way and to East Cliff.

And finally into Dover, over Townwall Street and along the promenade where the high tide and strong breeze were causing waves to break onto the walkway. It seemed to make it even better, getting covered by a mist of salt water. I had a goal, and you will not be too surprised to learn it involved beer. It has been several weeks since I last supped in The Rack of Ale, and that is where I was now heading, and Jools would pick me up on her way home after leaving work at four. Up Biggin Street, past the Town Hall and along to The Rack, where a warm welcome awaited, and not just because of the mulled cider on offer!

I have a pint of Hopfuzz Double Hop, or something like it, then a pint of something darker, then, much to my mistake I tried the mulled cider! I down the small glass, and get one for Jools when she comes in, but she soon realises if she drink it, she will be over the limit for driving, so I down that too.

It then comes as no surprise that once home and after a shower, I fall asleep on the bed for an hour. Bless.

I wake up in time to watch England play Spain on TV, not that it was a pleasure as England were as poor as feared. But by the time the game ended in a 2-0 defeat, news from Paris put all that sport into perspective.