Saturday 17th November 2018

A day full of promise. And photography.

We did all the shopping and stuff on Friday, as I would probably want to be out of the house with the first lark's call as there was so much to do. During the week I had drawn up a list of a dozen or so churches in the area I would like to visit whilst we were in Lydd to snap a railtour.

That was my plan.

I am now a decade through the Kent church project, something like 300 visited and photographed, most done inside and out. But some of the early ones I took just a few shots, so need to go back to snap the details that I now know and appreciate.

We have coffee, then croissants and another coffee, load up the car and zoom off into the early morning sunshine. Because it was a glorious day, endless and wall to wall sunshine, albeit for the ten hours or less that the sun was above the horizon.

We drive up to Ashford, then out the other side through Great Chart to Tenterden.

Tenterden is a fine, if uppity town on the Kent-Sussex border, and the end of the fine Kent and East Sussex railway. According to my memory banks we had never visited this church, St Mildreds, but turns out it was our third visit, the last one being only in January of last year.

Tenterden is laid out along the main street, white clapboard shops and eateries line the street, and parking is hard to come by, but up the lane beside the church there are a few spaces, and anyway, we were just here to see the church. Although Jools said she was going to do some hunter-gathering as she fancied a hot sausage roll for elevenses.

I go round getting shots, and I realise how recently we had been here, but still, photographing a church is a pleasant thing and I was having a great time.

When I go outside, Jools was there with a spicy lamb samosa each and half a sausage roll ro share. Not warmed, but sitting on a bench in the churchyard, facing south, it was as pleasant as I am making it sound. Though we did receive some disapproving glances as me munched our way through the snack.

We go back to the car, and drive back eastwards, hoping to find a small church I had been talking to the warden in St Mildreds about, but his directions left us in the middle of nowhere, but apparently, only 3 miles from Smallhythe.

Smallhythe is famous for being the home to famous singer, Ellen Terry, and is now a National Trust place. I guessed, correctly as it turned out, that the house would be closed, but the unusual and rare Tudor church next door might be open, at least on a Sunday morning.

The church was locked, and no details of a keyholder, but it is as I expected. And we had only spent half an hour getting here, we could now go to Appledore to visit another church.

Appledore sits on the edge of the Romney Marsh, about a dozen miles from Rye, and the old military canal runs between the two towns, which in the summer is pleasant to walk beside, and home to a rare butterfly or two I am told. Appledore is a pretty town, a broad high street lines with white clapboard shops and restaurants and cafes, all Kentish and picturesque.

The church is next to one of the town's pubs, as it should be, though we don't call in for a swifter, as I have plans to call in at one of our favourites next. Last time I was here, in 2010, I took a few general shots and left, now I know a bit more, and the roof and chancel arch blew me away. I say arch, it was just a square opening, with a large oak timber holding the rood rail up. And from the entrance through the west tower, you could we the timber frames holding up the northern transept. Lovely.

We were in this part of the county so I could see a railtour, so now we drove over the marshes to Brookland, to the Woolpack, a pub so old it seems it is in the process of falling down, but is just settling.

It is whitewashed walls, peg tiled roof, and no straight lines anywhere, doorways just five feet high, and a fireplace that is open to the sky with centuries of accumulated soot visible if you look up it.

We take a table and order, I have BBQ burger, which was just about passable, not as good as the place used to be, but the ambience makes it worth it.

There was just an hour now before the railtour was due, so we drove over the marsh then along the coast to the outskirts of Lydd, where the old line is still in occasional use for flask traffic to the nuclear power station, and sometimes a passenger railtour comes down it.

The location I chose was just before the old Lydd Town station, looking under the railway bridge up the two mile straight, along which the train would be visible long before it was due.

I wasn't the only one here, by the time the train hoved into view some two miles away, there was nearly a dozen of us, two of which had friends on the train so we knew it was coming. Four overdressed but safe members of staff from Railtrack were there to open the level crossing gates, and clamp the points.

Unlike before when the assistant driver had to open and close the gates himself.

This meant that due to health and safety we were chased off the crossing with ten minutes to spare, as the train trundled down the line at walking pace, only to stop under the bridge to get a briefing before being allowed to continue.

Engines roared, and the train inched forward, taking the new passing loop before carrying on towards the end of the line. I got my shots, and that was that.

It was now nearly three, and the light fading, and Jools had said she would like to go home for some snoozing before we went back out for another gig. So, no more churches, just back along the coast road through New Romney, Dymchurch and Hythe before getting onto the motorway to get home to Dover.

I had a stack of photos to download and sort through, blogposts to write, which was made easier by there being no footy games, or domestic ones anyway, so as I worked away, doing my hobbies, the day faded into night and the new half full moon shone brightly to the south.

At half seven we go back out for another gig, this time Blancmange.

Blancmange were a huge band in the 80s, part of the Some Bizzare scene, who went on to have several hits, including Living on the Ceiling. A few years ago we went to see the newly reformed band play a gig in Brighton. Blancmange is now really just Neil Arthur, the singer, and a rotating band of musicians who in the intervening period have released three or four new albums, and is more prolific than at the height of their fame.

They always were a great live act, I saw them twice in the 80s, the second time with a sitar player and backing singers, as well as being supported by The Housemartins, so as they were in town, why not go along?

Why not indeed. When we arrived, there was even a parking space next to the old station, so it was just a short walk to the door where we showed our tickets and went in. Inside it wasn't full, but was a good showing, and more people arrived as support act, Finlay Shakespeare did his thang, a full forty minute set done without pause and he doing the vocals and arranging the backing music, drum beats all thanks to some magical box of tricks. Just an incredible tour de force.

I was in the front row, at the edge of the stage when Neil and the others took to the stage, I was going to be there just for one song so I could get some shots, but in the end I stayed there the whole gig, and had the time of my life.

With the new material, it wasn't a greatest hits set, but halfway through the better known numbers appeared, and the crowd began to sing along. Penultimate number was Living on the Ceiling, with the audinence humming along to the instrumental parts, so loud that Neil stopped singing to listen, which made it louder.

Magical stuff, and Neil was taken aback by how a few hundred people could do this, without prompting. There was a damp eye or two.

They went off, and I helped bring them back for an encore by banging on the stage; they came back to do a superb rendition of Waves.

And leaving and getting home was so easy, just go outside, walk 10m down to road, get into the car and drive along Townwall Street and up the hill to St Maggies. A superb day all round, I would say.