Saturday 28th January 2017

Saturday morning, and already the plan for the day had formed and laid out, and mostly agreed. We would go out beyond Ashford to the badlands that are round Tenterden and Rolvenden, to visit a plant nursery and to take in some churches whilst we were there, and maybe have lunch out, what with us having just been paid and all. And with having lunch out it meant not having to go shopping, so once we had made coffee and ate some fruit, we could go. That is until I remembered I had a hire car to pick up, so just after eight, Jools takes me down Jubilee Way to the port where the paperwork was still being filled in., but within a few minutes I have the keys to an Hyundai stationwagon thing, which has a glass roof all the way along, I just need some of them summer days in which to enjoy it.

I drive back up the hill and along the Deal Road to home, where we pack our car with camera gear and coats, and we're ready to go.

We take the sat nav, and instead of the way we would have gone, via Ashford and the A28, it takes us to Ham Street instead, then cross-country to Tenterden, which seemed to knock 20 minutes off the trip. And of course, allowed us to cruise through some of the wonderfully attactive villages along the way, and me smugly mark off the churches I had already visited and photographed.

Where we were going is as far west as you can go and still be in Kent: Tenterden is home to the start of a preserved railway, The Kent and East Sussex, and it is there which we have mainly visited the town for. However, as we entered the town, driving along it's narrow streets made narrower by parked cars, as we turned onto the wide main street, I saw the pinnacled tower of the parish church, and I realised that we had not visited it before.

We had to turn across the busy traffic coming the other way, and down the narrow Church Street, but there was a parking space, so taking that, I jumped out and was full of the joys at the thought of some Grade A church crawling.

St Mildred is on a grand scale, lots of nooks and crannies to explore and snap. Most wonderful feature is the 15th century roof, which is really special, all wooden checkerboard patterns. Good glass, a nice alabaster memorial. A great start to the day.

Back in the car, and onto the garden centre, which was to close for the day at twelve, so we had better get a move on. We follow the sat nav to the village of Rolvenden, past two fine looking pubs and a splendid looking church, out along a road west before turning off down a narrow lane to a crossroads nestled in the fold of a down, out of the wind and quite warm in the weak sunshine. On the other side of the rad were the rows of plants showing where the nursery was, so we drove to the entrance of what seemed like a farm. There was no shop, no tea shop, no ice creams, no one in fact.

We go in, and seeing no one about, we wander around what we hoped was the right place. We find the wisteria, and there is a choice, but all are sleeping for the season, and we just had the label description to go on. We pick two plants, and are then met by the owner who tells us what great choices we have made and is glad to take our £46. Of course.

We manage to get the plants in the car, and drive back to Rolveneden so I could visit the church, and if we timed it right, or I took my time, the pub would open in half an hour and we could have lunch.!

St Mary is a large and impressive church, most noticeable for the family pews situated in a gallery above the floor of the church in the south east corner. The family is Gybbon, and also, wonderfully, the Moneypennies. No sign of any Bonds though.

At the west end, the impressive organ also sits on a gallery, with another family pew beside it. Both are open to visit and take pictures from.

Beneath the Gybbon gallery/pew, there is a small family chapel, it's roof made so low by the gallery, one has to stoop to walk through, but one is then faced with the impressive family monuments and memorials.

I am done, and it is five past twelve; opening time, or just gone. We drive to The Bull Inn, and get a table. I have a pint of Harvey's Best, which is good, then order venison steak with a port and redcurrant jus and seasonal vegetables. Jools has game pie, and when they come, both are wonderful. We know how to live.

The pub fills up and we people watch, most interesting are the very posh couple with the improbably huge dog which has taken them for a very muddy walk. They seem nice enough and friendly, the dog likes the smell of my dinner, so I growl at hom and the lady yanks his lead and he slouches away, but looks back at me longingly. Or looks at my dinner.

Some wide boys arrive, and are talking car repairs loudly over pints of faux Italian lager, so we pay and leave, taking one last look at the picture postcard village, full of clapboard houses, all whitewashed.

We call in at one last church on the way home, Sandhurst, situated at the end of a long dead end lane, and looking low and grim in the fading light as stormclouds sweep over the downs. We walk along the last part of the green track to the church, find the door open, and inside it is wonderful, and we marvel at the mediaeval glass in two of the windows. It is well maintained and a joy really to visit.

But the day is done, and it is time to drive home, listen to the football on the radio on the way, and finding Liverpool had lost at home to Wolves in the lunchtime game, then amazed at Brighton lost to Lincoln, Oxford beat Newcastle and in the league, City beat Birmingham 2-0. Amazing.

There is stuff on the TV to watch, a documentary, then have a Twiglet and wine party just before bedtime, in which I made a bottle of wine vanish.