Sunday 4th August 2013

Saturday.

For some reason I was awake at half four in the morning, so after laying in bed listening to the blackbird outside the window sounding so happy about things, I got up, went downstairs and made a pot of coffee and went online to see what was happening in the world. usual stuff as it happens, and the start of a new football season. In the Football League at least, the 125th anniversary of the fist games back in 1888. The Premier League still has two weeks before it starts, so the 'big' clubs can play meaningless friendlies all round the world so to further their 'brand image.'

At half seven we head to Tesco, and sweep round the aisles as quick as we can so we can get the heck out of there as quick as we can again.

We did buy croissants, so breakfast was more fresh coffee in which to dunk said croissants. It's the French way, or at least our french friend's way....

Jools had a beading cass in Folkestone at 11, so we head off at just gone ten, and I drops her off outside the gaff and then have 90 minutes to kill before the main course of the day. I head up to Folkestone Downs, because:

1. I like it up there

2. It overlooks the tunnel

3. Its a butterfly rich site

Only on Saturday the wind did blow. Off the sea. And up the down. To the extent it was like sitting in a wind tunnel. No butterflies, and only a few brave bees out trying to gather pollon. So, I make do with looking at the coings and goings in the terminal below, and to watch a Kestral flying hither and thither searching for food, hovering over some unsuspecting bunny and dropping on it like a stone.



I headed back to the car, and then down to the harbour to see if there was anything happening. People going into the sea to swim was about the most of it, so I took a few shots of the water lift and head back to pick Jools up.



We then head off for Ebbsfleet station to pick up another Flickr contact, as I had said we would take him to see the fort at Grain. Grain is a place in Kent. As is Bridge. As is River. I don't make these things up you know. Anyway, Grain is on the Isle of Grain, right on the Thames estuary, and is an odd place. It had a huge container port, gas storage facilities, a power station, and a large tower some half a mile of the shore, which at low tide you can walk to across the mud flats.



We arrive at the station and Andy was already there, so after shaking hands and introducing him to Jools we set off. Now despite this being the first time we had all met, we knew quite a lot about each other through our shots, which I guess is the modern way.

In Grain we stop off at a pub for a drink, and we are given the stranger's stare as we walk in, but we are left along and their 40th birthday party continued.

We drove down the High Street and found a space in the car park near what was signposted as the seafront, but in reality was the seawall. anyway, good enough for us.

So, we walk half a mile to the beginning of the causeway, and we ask do we want to do this? I had chacked the tides and we were there dead on low tide. So we set out. Mud had covered a lot of the causeway, and we walked out keeping our eye straight ahead knowing that the causeway was under the mud. except where the tide had washed some bricks away. I tirned round to see jools knee deep in mud. It did not look good. Turned out she though the mud look firm enough to walk on and as it had begun to dry out.

She managed to walk one pace, get her shoe from the mud. Walk another step and get her other shoe, then walk with quick steps to the causeway. She had mud to her knees and elbow. Oh dear. I walked with her back to the shore and she tried to clean up, and i then went to join Andy and a few locals who had walked out. I got nearly to the tower, through the mud, over the bits where five feet of causeway was missing. And I got to the point where my feet we soaked, mud to my ankles, and I thought, I don't need to go any further.

So, I turned back and went to join Jools on the sea wall, taking in the scene and chatting to folks who walked past. It was nice enough. Andy came back in due course, he had climbed the fort almost to the top, and he has great shots, but I am happy with my decision to turn back.

We dropped andy back off at the station and then headed back down the A2 to Dover. It was beer and pizza for dinner. Quick and great.

Top day again.