I will only skip over the reasons why Saturday's activities were severely curtailed. I woke up at five in the morning and felt the need to use the facilities. And so it began. And went on. I did not feel too bad, but did not feel like straying too far from home. Just as well then that we had decided not to go to London for Open House this year. And so we stayed around the house for the morning.
Jools went into town to run chores, I had other duties to run, and did I run. Anyway, come lunchtime I felt well enough to drive to Minster to watch the progress of an Orient Express special which was heading for Deal. So, up to Sandwich then across the marshes to Minster where I was the only photographer waiting. I sit in the car listening to the QPR v Hull game on the radio until about ten minutes before the scheduled arrival time. I take up position on the footbridge, check the two camera over and keep my eye on the bend in the track, round which the train would come.
And bang on time, the class 67 came into view, slowing down in preparation to change tracks so to take the chord to Deal just behind me. So, I got off 50 or 60 shots, switching to the nifty fifty as it came into the station. Then it was beneath me and round the corner, being above I could not see into the carriages so see the passengers who had paid six hundred quid each for lunch and an hour in Deal. I am not judging them, just pointing out how much the trip cost. Anyway, I got my shots of the locos and Pullman carriages, so went home for lunch as I was feeling hungry.
Back home we have a pork pie and a cuppa. I am not feeling good, maybe down to a lack of sleep, but due to outpourings possibly. Anyway, I check the shots, and prepare to go out to Martin Mill to snap the train again on its return to Deal from Folkestone. Once again I am the only one at the station, so I stand at the end of the platform with a fine view up the bank towards Guston, and in a few minutes I could see the light which showed the train's approach. Closer and closer it got, I kept snapping until the train filled the viewfinder, then was past.
Back home I lay on the sofa listening to the football on the radio. City are already two down to Brum, and I grumble. Just after halftime I head to the facilities again, and in my absence City score twice in as many minutes to draw level. I cheer weakly. I doze on the sofa through the second half of the Villa v Arsenal game, but Norwich are not mentioned again, so I assume, correctly, that there were no more goals.
I do eat dinner, a simple tomato and cheese salad, but not really hungy, and we both take to bed very early, as Jools was now visiting the facilities as often as I was.
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