Wednesday 6th August 2025

Its hump day, though when retired every day is hump day, I guess.

And at eight, Jools was off for Qigong class, which she has been doing for several months now. Which left me home with the cats and a fresh cup of coffee.

I messed around online, then sat outside with Scully after filling up the feeders, watching the butterflies, bees and wasps buzzing round, generally collecting pollen and nectar.

The rewilding, and planting more insect friendly plants has been a huge success.

Unbeknown to me, Jools then went to the beach for a swim, and was sidetracked by a Spanish galleon arriving into port, with tugs spraying water as a form of welcome and celebration.

The plan had been to go to Biddenden to the cider place, to restock further for Jools. I called Jools, she had not been swimming yet, but was coming straight home.

Camera battery charged, car packed. We set off, Jools crocheting as we went, up the A20 to Folkestone, then on the motorway to Ashford, where I took the wrong exit, so we had to take ten miles of back lanes to get onto the A28. That's what the sat nav told me.

Through High Halden and keeping going, before turning north west towards Tunbridge Wells.

Kent is much larger than it appears, and it can take over ninety minutes driving from Dover to leave the county, depending on which direction you go.

Anyway, turned off the main road, turned off that onto Gribble Bridge Lane and into the cider farm.

We bought cider, of course, some beer, cheese and crackers, and a bottle of apple juice for the journey.

A short drive into the village was the church. Which is always open. Except this day. Open for coffee Tuesdays and Thursdays, apparently.

We walked back to the car.

Next off, something that becoming harder to say: a new Kent church.

To get there we would have to drive through Goudhurst, the highest point in Kent, and hope of ancient road that is not wide enough for two modern cars to pass, in places.

Lots of nice places to shop and eat and drink there, but we must press on.

We crawl through the village, which looked very different in the bright summer sunshine, rather than the heavy winter cloud and halflight as it was when I last called at Goudhurst.

Down the hill onto the Weald, and finally onto the Hastings road, before turning off into Lamberhurst.

Down church Lane, past huge houses and mansions to the end of the road which terminates in a sort of car park.

I get the camera, not really believing the church would be open. Up the narrow path between hedges, into the churchyard and round to the porch, where ancient doors said the church was open, turn the brass handle. Hard.

The door swung open, and once through the inner glass door, the church revealed itself.

Its a fine mix of ancient and Victorian, with memorials, hatchings and quite the largest Queen Anne coat of arms I have ever seen.

I got the large lens out to record the Victorian windows and other details.

Back outside in the bright sunshine, and an amble back to the car. We set sail for home.

Soon we came a small service area, so we stopped for sausage rolls and a Cornish pasty. Which we washed down with the apple juice from Biddenden.

The sat nav took us the same way back, though traffic through Goudhurst was easier late in the afternoon and then through Biddenden to Ashford, onto the motorway and back home.

The feline welcoming committee was there, so the cats got fed and we made a brew before I prepared Caprese for dinner.

The evening slipped by, all the slower for there being no football.