Sunday 23rd May 2010

And today would have been my Dad's 71st birthday. It's another date that could result in being maudlin, but one that affirms my belief that life goes on.

And so to bring you up to date, Friday morning dawned bright and clear, sadly, I had to go to work, but driving through the streets of Dunkirk, sorry Dunkerque, past the beautiful marina, the railway station and then on to the quay, or mole, where we were working.

As it happens, Friday was a very auspicious day, as the 100th and final tower for the wind farm was put together, and was the cause for much celebration, and we all went out to watch the huge crane lift the top tower section and lower it onto the lower one. The supervisor of the site was allowed to drive the crane, and we all took pictures and applauded as no one got injured.

I had to leave at three, and bid my farewells and set off back down the coast to the tunnel and before that, the land of cheap wine and cheap stinky cheese emporiums. I zoomed down the autoroute, and went into the supermarket, rushed round picked up sa selection of cheeses, some smoked sausage. And then off to the wine warehouse and I picked up nine bottles of burgandy and a box of rose and then down the autoroute agaon, and off into the waiting area for the tunnel.

I waited and then time was called and we all piled into our cars and drove to the border control for France; they waved us through, as usual. And then waited as the British customs checked the details of everyone's passport. And then I was called into the customs and excise area.

I don't think I'm that interesting, but after I answered the questions, why did you go to France, is this a business or pleasure trip? And my answers got him more interested; not that I was suspicious, but he liked, wanted to talk about wind turbines. And then camera, and then onto the white cliffs. And I missed my train. I only had to wait half an hour for the next one, and in all honesty it wasn't that bad.
We were allowed to drive on, and I got out the Mark Kermode book and finished it before we set out for England.

20 minutes or so after driving off the train in England, I was pulling up outside our house, in bright spring sunshine, with a car full of good wine, stinky cheese and fresh bread.
And so, once Jools was back, we went outside with plates laden with bread and cheese and glasses of wine, and sat in the shade of the tree down the bottom of the garden.

Saturday dawned dull and misty; seems like the sea and endless sunshine didn't mix and so created fog. All of east Kent was shrouded in cloud and mist. I had to take the hire car back, and then the day was ours. We went to Preston to go to the butcher we like, and we visited another country church, St Mildred's, and afterwards we went to a garden centre and bought some shrubs and a couple of hot chilli plants.

Back home we had the rest of the bread and more stinky cheese, which was nice, and in the afternoon I opened the first bottle of the home brew we made a few weeks ago, and it was good. The climax of the football season reached another of it's climaxes, with the Championship play off final and later on the Champions League final. Inbetween, I cooked steak for dinner, all in all, not a bad day.



And Sunday was glorious. Wall to wall glorious in fact. Blue skies, sunshine, no wind, just a gentle breeze and a Flickrmeet to go to down by the sea at Samphire Hoe. We first went to the cliff edge just a mile from our house to look over to France and along the coast up to Ramsgate. Above us a falcon hovered hunting some prey, and just in the right place for me to snap.
And then on to the meet.



In short, there isn't that much to snap, or maybe there is but as we go there so often, but we walked along with those who had come along, showing them some interesting plants and pointing out where the Dover Colliery used to stand.

Someone mentioned a fine garden nearby, and so we decided to head to Sandling Park where there was the promise of rhododendrons all a riot of colour.



We headed off in the car, not sure of where the Park was, but it was signposted, and we pulled into the car park, in the shadow of a minor country house. We paid our entrance fee and walked through the archway in the garden wall; and then our retinas were burned by the rhododendrons. Each one had colours more vibrant than the previous, it was glorious, and all under a azure blue sky. I snapped away, and we wandered through the bushes and then onto the woods, with each stage a variety of plants.



On the way out we had a cup of tea and a nice little scone with jam and cream, it was all very nice.