Thursday 30th May 2024

And so to the last day of holiday, and a day packed with stuff.

I dropped Jools off in town so Sean could take her to work, though in truth her voice has been getting weaker.

I drive back home for breakfast and to check on my camera before loading the car and heading out.

At Pegwell Bay there is a small reserve with a high number of Southern Marsh and hybrids of those with CSOs, though few actual CSO.

They should have been at their peak, so I drove out to the A2, only to find that at rush hour people seem to forget the rules of the road, which can only explain a Hilux driver hauling a horse box, fail to spot me overtaking him and he pull out. No looking, no indication, no apology either.

Then on the Sandwich bypass, more mad driving as I tried to pull over to take the right hand lane at Richborough to go to Ebbsfleet.

I and the car were in one piece, and once parked I walk over the main road to the reserve, which was a haven of peace, at least until a guy with two Alsatians came along, off the lead. Can't a nature reserve be a dog-free area, or they be kept on leads?

I go exploring and find dozens of spikes, along with a roosting Brown Argus, but my knee is complaining. Silly me, really for not wearing my brace as I thought that the site wasn't that hilly or difficult.

So, I beat a retreat to the car to drive to the next site, Monkton Nature Reserve.

The Reserve in an old chalk pit, for for something like two decades has been taken over by nature. I was last here a decade ago when I saw a grass snake swimming in the pond, and several species of orchid around the site.

It being school holidays meant it was crazy busy, and I grabbed the last parking space, only ten minutes after opening.

There were Man Orchids all over the site, they guy in charge told me he had counted over 700 spikes, which is a huge increase over when I was last here, in addition, some of the spikes have green hoods and yellow lips, something to appeal to the Norwich fan in all of us!

The pond was out of bounds, and I didn't feel up to climbing the cliffs via the steps, so I was back and leaving in just under an hour.

I called in at the butcher on the way back for some meaty supplies and a pasty for lunch, and by the time I was back in St Maggies I had an hour before the last shoot of the day: a railtour at Shepherdswell.

Again at the Duke of Yorks roundabout, I was nearly run off the road, this time by a Volvo driver who failed to give way at the give way lines from Jubilee Way. Only problem was that I was in the way. Again, no apology from the driver as she cut in front of me.

The usual issues with the narrow road leading into Shepherdswell, but I get there safe, nab the last parking spot and walk to the station, where quite a crowd was gathering.

Standing next to be was a 90 year old former colleague of Uncle John, a guy with the real name of Tommy Atkins, who had a hell of a time in the war with that name.

Clan Line hoved into view, over two miles down the track, steaming and smoking well, then cresting the bank a mile distant, cruised down the hill into the station, giving two blasts on her steam whistle, and was under me and into the tunnel.

And gone.

Leaving a cloud of smoke, drifting in the air.

I drove home, but soon get a text from Jools saying she was ill and could I collect her, so do.

Her cough is terrible, and she was asked to go home and take Friday off.

So the plan to go out for dinner was scrapped, instead I defrosted some ragu and focaccia from before the holiday, boiled some dried pasta, and within half an hour we sat down to a fine meal.

A quiet evening with no football meant an early night for both of us.