The best thing about living in East Kent is when returning from France , the drive from the Channel Tunnel is so short. Less than half an hour after driving off the train, I was reversing into the drive of the house and ready for the weekend. I unloaded the car, sorted out my dirty washing,a nd then set about mowing the back lawn so it was one thing less to do over the weekend. And then sit down with a cold beer and look at the pictures I took during my week away.
And so, in the cooling evening air, we sat out in the back garden and ate bread and cheese, all fresh and very unhealthy I don’t doubt, but wonderful all the same.
Saturday, we had to drop off the hire car first, and then the day was ours. High above Dover , on one side is the world famous castle, but on the hill opposite is the lesser known Western heights; built during Napoleonic times to house troops to repel attack, but obsolete soon after being built. The three forts have been built to blend into the landscape, and are all but invisible from the sea or the town. And once a year, there is an open day where people dress up in period costume to pretend to fight battles that might have been fought at that time; had Napoleon actually have made it over the channel.
For me, it is a photographic opportunity, more so for the people as I have visited the forts several times now. And as ever it was wonderful, and blessed with stunning summer weather. I stood near two ‘camps, and snapped the comings and goings as people put on uniforms, got their weapons ready, and with fife and drums playing, marched off to war.
All good stuff I have to say, but at that point I left, like I said I have seen most of the fort before, and one can only photograph it so much, and so I made my way down to the street below, via the Grand Shaft, and met up with Jools as we drove off into the country to buy some stuff for the BBQ we were planning for the evening.
For the rest of the day, we did stuff in the garden, before lighting the Weber at half six and then cooking burgers, sausages and ribs. As always we had too much food, but cooked the extra for salads later in the week, which seemed like a good idea.
Sunday dawned grey and damp after a night of thunder and lightning, which kept the scaredy of our two cats cowering in one of our wardrobes, but at least with the promise of sunshine later. There was to be a rally of vintage Rolls Royces in town to celebrate the crossing of either Mr Rolls or Mr Royce
Of the channel in both directions without stopping, exactly 100 years before. More photographic opportunities I thought, and so we set off at nine, before the crowds.
The cars were still arriving, some from the turn of the 20th century, but from most years that the company had been in production, some owned by average looking people, but many by those who look liked they weren’t short of a penny or two. It was fun, to see then try to line their luxury cars along the promenade, and all the while I was snapping away.
But, it seems you can have too much of a good thing, and we left as the crowds grew thicker, and headed back once again for lunch and more relaxing and ‘stuff’ in the garden.
And that really was our weekend; we achieved very little, but it flew by and now five days of work before we can relax again. Welcome to the working week!
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