I went out for a walk this morning. The weather is finally looking like how it should, spring-like and gloriously sunny. It's Friday, it's been a kinda depressing week, and so I thought I would pack my cameras and go for a walk along the cliffs.
Our village, St Margarets-at-Cliff, as you can imagine, is a little bit up it's own backside. But I have mellowed towards it since moving. I thought there were warning signs around saying this or that was private, etc. But, it's the road beyond the houses is what is private, and people really are quite friendly.
We have a village shop which has all you could want, and much that you don't; but thay keep a Saturday Times for us, and I can wander down there in ten minutes for stuff we have run out, kidding myself that the walk down the dip and up the other side warrants a good dose of daily exercise. There is a post office that still does everything, including car tax; which I thought only main offices still did. And the people who run are very friendly.
There's an ancient parish church, with a graveyard full of military officers; more than I would have thought normal for a village of it's size. There's a couple of cafes, four pubs and a village hall that does a bridge club on Mondays; one day I'll go along and mix it with the old folks.
The only problem is the main road, which in places is very narrow and in some places, without pavement; and so a walk along it can be an adventure; not in a good sense.
There are many houses, our place is in the group furthest from the sea. Down the dip is the village proper, and then down the steep road at the bottom of the cliffs is St Margarets Bay; once home to Noel Coward and Ian Flemming; but not at the same time.
From the clifftops we can see France on a clear day, and the car ferries criss-crossing the channel. It's a nice place I can vouch for that.
So, anyway, I set off just after nine, thus missing the school run, and Yummy and Slummy Mum's cars do block the already narrow road, and then they all have to turn their Yummy Mummy wagons round and head to tescos.
Anyway, I stop off at the church to take a few pictures; the angle just perfect for the light to darken the sky almost to black, and then head off down the posh road towards the Dover Patrol and thence to the cliffs and open country.
Houses along Granville Road, as they have sea views for the most part, command a premium of £100,000 to £150,000 on top of what you would normally pay for such a place around here. So, that road is out of mosts price range. it is a mix of mansions, holiday homes and old tumbledown cottages. It would be a wonderful place to live.
Once past all the houses, I come to the Dover Patrol memorial, commemorating those lost during the Great War looking for lost pilots and seamen. Also there, in the old coastguard station you'll find the only bluebirds around here; a cafe of that name! They do the best breakfast, bacon butties and cakes for miles. And they live in the upper floor, and have the best views of all.
Beyond Bluebirds is open country all the way down to Kingsdown where the cliffs flatten out. I was hoping to walk there and back. I took pictures of fields, birds, poppies, clouds and the like, all was going well. In no time at all, I made it to Kingsdown golf course where Pringle was everywhere; when my 40D jammed. Err99 it said.
Remembering this from a discussion board I realise this is not good news and turn round to go home, and hopefully get the camera fixed.
I thought that I had had the camera for over a year, and quickly realised that what probably had gone wrong was the shutter mechanism, and that would cost a couple of hundred quid to fix.
Damn.
Once home I check the net and confirm my worst fears; shutter mech!
I dig out the receipt, and glories of glory; I have 5 whole days of the guarantee left.
Result!
So, off to canterbury tomorrow to fill out the paperwork and then wait for a few weeks whilst it is fixed.
For free.
Yay!
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