Sunday 27th October 2013

Blog #798

It's been a hard slog at times, but look where we are now! Well, the pause before the storm when I set off on my annual 'try to kill my liver' trip to Norfolk for the Beer Festival in that fine city, Norwich.

Or Naaarrich.

So, more silence from me until Wednesday or Thursday at least.

Saturday.

I awoke at about seven, laid in bed whilst Jools fed the cats and made the first pot of coffee of the day. I almost went back to sleep. But COFFEE! Whilst I pottered online we listened to The Museum of Curiosity, The Now Show before it was time to think about what to do with the day. In the end we decided that a trip to Preston was called for as we have little food in the freezer and we also have to put in the order for Christmas at the butchers.

So, in dazzling bright sunshine we headed out to Sandwich, up to Nash and then over the marsh and through Preston to Grover Ferry. See, I had changed the plan again, and now the plan was to go church hunting first, and then head to the butcher. Easy.

About four years back we visited Chislet church with a friend, and since then I appreciate churches more, so I thought a return visit was called for. Chislet was just over the main road, along a couple of lanes and there was the tower just through the trees.

We parked up and headed into the churchyard, taking the unusual shape of the church, with it's, I would imagine, unique tower looking (to me) like a French chateau.

After taking shots from the outside, we go in to find the parishioners cleaning the church, all was busy with dusting and vacuuming. It is a large three cell church, one cell of which is now a sports hall for the school next door, and laid out as a badminton court. Not what you expect in a church! It was like meeting an old friend inside if truth be known, and Chilham is certainly in top five favourite churches in the county.

Next up was a new church: Holy Cross, Hoath.

It was just a short drive, along lanes marked with pre-warboy signs, always a pleasure. It gives the impression of driving in the 50s.

Hoath was unlocked, and inside, although dark, was another delight with a wonderful wooden beamed roof, and behind the altar, a fine circular stained glass window.

It was by now half past opening time, and the temptation to head to The Gate in Boyden was too strong, so we turned round and drove to Boyden, found a place to park and so we settled down with a pint of lovely hooped ale for me and vintage cider for Jools.

Another temptation would have been to eat there, as the good is glorious, but we have stuff at home, so after downing our drinks we head back home via the butchers.

Needless to say the afternoon was spent listening to the football on the radio, and City failed to score once again, but at least didn't concede either, but a goalless draw against Cardiff isn't really good enough. £30m on players who play upfront and we still don't score means something is going wrong.

In the evening we watch World War Z (zed) on ppv, and we soon see through the holes in the plot, but it rattles along at a fair pace and is enjoyable enough.