Although I had worked and travelled for such long hours the previous two days, I was wide awake by half six, and so it was coffee time. The cats let us know they wanted feeding, so down the stairs, feed the moggies and put the pot of coffee on the stove. There really is no better smell, other than bacon cooking, than coffee bubbling on the stove. And that first hot! Man, what a rush. Yup, its a drug, but then we all need something to pick us up!
If they could just invent baconated coffee or caffeinated bacon then we will know the future has really arrived. Saying that, you can already get cheese in a spray can, and that is pretty fantastic, even if the cheese itself isn't.
So, what to do with the day? Well, why not head to Barham? One of the reasons for going is another for not going; the floods. I am aware that there are flood tourists, but for me the interest in how nature, or in this case the landscape, copes with the heavy rain. I am not a Kentish Man nor a Man of Kent, so the idea of streams just springing out of the ground or disappearing back into the ground is pretty radical. But along the Elham Valley there is a winterbourne, that is a stream that flows only when there has been heavy rain, called the Nailbourne. Most times the Nailbourne through Barham runs underground, but this year the water table is so high that it is flowing strongly even there.
And flood tourists; people who go just to look at something awesome, or unusual, ignoring that for others this is a time of worry and distress that their home or village might be flooded. I gave it long thought before going, but decided to as the day was so glorious, and it felt springlike, and I hoped that the levels had dropped some.
In the end, one woman asked me not to post shots of her place, and it brought back all my concerns about going there in the first place. But, I will post the shots and speak of what we saw, so to record the fact if for nothing else. And from what I saw, no properties on the north side of the Nailbourne had been flooded, and it seems that after a week of mosltly dry weather, one hopes the worst is over and levels will now drop.
We parked up at the top of the village and walked down past the Duke of Cumberland to the village green and the bridge over the bourne. UKIP were out dishing out leaflets, all very happy in their little Englander way, appalled that I accused them of being anti-Europe. I mean, what could have given me that idea. Anyway, I told them I was voting for a new party next year, the NHA, of a party with a single aim, to save the NHS and expose the Tory lies about it. UKIP hadn't heard of it and seemed dismissive.
We shall see.
From there we headed to Deal as The Berry had a beer festival on. The regular sampling of ale coupled with my inactivity due to my flu/cold has meant that I know my waisteline has expanded, and so this must be one of the last such visits for a while. But with a dozen beers to sample, and being able to sit in the beer garden, drinking fine cask ale, munching on roast meat baps, was just too darn tempting.
After six halfs, we head home and I lay on the sofa, so I can appreciate the football on the radio better. I may have slept some!
No comments:
Post a Comment