We woke up at dawn to find the house shrouded in thick fog. The BBC promised us a fine and warm sunny day, so lets hope the sun would burn it through.
I needed the car as I had plans to head to Hyde to ride on some very small trains earlier in the day. The drive into Dover was eventful as we drove in and out of fog banks. At the top of Connaught Hill all of Dover was under a thick blanket of fog below. Some might say that would be a good thing, but not me. Oh no.
I dropped Jool off and rushed to Reach Road where I guessed the fog would be at its best and picturesque. As it turned out, the sun was already burning most of the mist away, and so I grabbed a couple of shots from the coastguard place before heading home for more breakfast.
I drove out to River to pick up my mate Gary, then along the Alkham valley to Folkestone. As you turn into the village the tower of St Anthony is above all the roofs of the houses, and it always bugged me I had not not got inside, but of course, after a very successful Saturday afternoon, I finally did get in and get my shots.
Onto the motorway, a quick blast upto Westonhanger and then down into Hythe to park at the station. Hythe is the start of one of Britain's most remarkable railways, The Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway, a mainline railway, but in miniature. It has been running since before the war, and is now one of the best known in the country, and yet I have not been here since 2007 when I first moved down to Kent. We park up, go in to get our tickets and then have half an hour to wait until departure time.
I was concerned when a bus load of Gemran teens arrived, and they had booked the carriage we had sat in. Don't worry, more carriages will be attached we were told. And indeed three more were shunted into position, and so Gary and I took our places in a compartment on our own, there was just enough room for the two of us side by side, and so bang on time, we shuddered off.
Despite it being such a long rake of coaches, "Winston Churchill" made short work of accelerating out of the station, and thundered along the winding double track towards Dymchurch, slowing down as we went over each level crossing. We were near the locomotive, so we got to hear it working hard, as well as lungfulls of smoke and steam as well.
The carriages made delightful ckickity clack noises as we ran over the old fashioned jointed track, just like a proper train should. As our speed increased, we were made to sway from side to side, I looked at Gary and he had a smile on his face, as did I.
We trundled up to New Romney where the schoolkids got off and so the remainder of the trip was without the sound of a riot behind. Anyway, soon we were flying inbetween the back gardens of houses built on the shingle of the Marl, and eventually, even they thinned out until we were running between the dune upto the twin power stations at Dungeness.
Gary and I, as well as most other passengers, got out to stretch our legs and to snap the loco. It was a surprise then we with a toot on the whistle the train began to pull out. Gary and I tumble back in as the train accelerated, thankfully it was not going that fast, so there was no danger, but it did make us alught.
We got off at New Romney so we could look round the engine shed, the model railway exhibition and to grab a bite to eat. Gary treated me to a bacon roll and a cuppa, which hit the spot. We walked around the station and yard for half an hour, until it was time to take position on the platform for the one fifteen back to Hythe. It was now darn hot, and getting the air coming in through the door of the carriages was great, although as we were sitting right next to the locomotive, we also got plenty of smoke and steam coming in too.
Back in Hythe, we pack the car and drive home. I needed to do a couple of jobs, and Gary said he could do with a snooze. So we retraced our streaps back along the motorway and then down the Alkham Valley to River. I got the bits and bobs from Tesco, drove home to put it all away, and then just shill out as it was so darned warm. Phew.
That evening I listened to the football on the radio, whilst keeping tabs on City;s game at Brentford. After a dodgy first half, the Bees tired and we rattled in three late goals to go top again. Yay, winning is so much better than losing you know?
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