It is funny, after another few weeks of travelling, I find myself at home at seven in the morning, once Jools has gone to work, with the day stretching out before me. All is quiet, even the cats are out doing their stuff. I have breakfast, another coffee and begin work.
And so with the sun shining outside, I work the day through, dealing with each crisis in turn.
Lunch comes and goes, and as I work at the computer sat at the dining room table, my back began to grumble. I mean really getting painful. The only thing I could really do as sitting, standing and even walking round the garden, nothing lessened the pain. So, I put on my walking boots grabbed my camera, and set out for a walk to Windy Ridge.
It was about four, although wall to wall sunshine outside, the easterly wind was still keen, and so wearing a fleece was essential. I walk out along the track at the end of the road, on either side the fields are now showing the season's crop, although I have no idea what the crop might be. The soil is bone dry, as are the paths and tracks. At the pig's copse, the wood is still empty, and it seems that there will be no porkers there this year. The view over the downs to Kingsdown was as wonderful as it always is, but the colours a tad more vibrant than before.
I walk on down past the farm, and on the other side a herd of young heifers were very interested in me, but once they began to paw the ground in that comedy way bulls do in cartoons, I thought maybe their curiosity was waning and they might now me angry. So, I walk on.
Up the hill, there were fields of oilseed, all bright yellow, dazzling technicolour in the spring sunshine.
The wood was quiet, I have no idea why no bluebells or orchids grown here, but there is a carpet of wood anemones all green and white.
At least my back feels better, so I walk back down the ridge, walking slowly along the track home, in the hope of seeing a Holly Blue, but despite the strong sunshine, there are no butterflies on the wing, and certainly no Holly Blues.
Once Jools comes home at half five, we have coffee and a bar of chocolate, and then the plan is to drive to Sandwich Bay to check up on the Green-Winged Orchids growing on the golf course. With the sun getting low in the west, there is a fine golden light over East Kent. Through Walmer and Deal, and then past the golf course, along the narrow twisty lane to Sandwich Bay. Sandwich Bay is a private estate, and the owner charges something like four quid for access, but at the end of the day, the booths are un-manned, so we drive through, past the mansions and onto the road along the beach.
At the right spot, we pull over, get the camera gear out, and begin to hunt for the orchids. Like all seaside locations, it is a bit windswept, and it might have been too early, but there was the hope that in the lea of a dune slack, a micro-climate might allow for a spike to flower. And indeed this was the case, Jools calls out, and there was a single flowering spike, all blooms were open, and looking so bright purple in the golden sunshine. I snap it a few time, getting clear shots of the green rips under the hood. No problem with the ID of this orchid!
Having snapped our prey, I am happy, and now thought turn to dinner. And the choice is endless. One of the places we have not been for a while is the Old Lantern in Martin. It's quiet, but the beer and food is good. The Deal road is closed in the evenings due to roadworks, so it is quiet as we drive to the turning to Martin Mill, down past the station, under the bridge and up the hill into Martin. The pub is quiet, we get a corner table, and order our food. I have steak and ale pie and a pint or two of Spitfire.
Outside as we leave, the air is alive with bats chasing moths as the evening is just warm enough. Above the crescent moon and Venus are shining bright, showing us the way home.
Friday
I needed the car, which means I have to take Jools to work and then drive back. Hythe is just a handful of miles away. Just the other side of Folkestone, should be so simple. However, it seems that Kent County Council is intent on digging up every road in the county, making even the most simple of journeys masterpiece of route planning. But sometimes you just have to put up with the traffic lights and delays. On the way back, there is then the carziness that is the traffic monitoring system on the A20, which means on a dual carriageway between Folkestone and Dover, all traffic is limited to 40mph. Even if there are no queues. However, it seems foreign lorry drivers have relaised that the cameras probably won't lead to a fine, so we have the crazy situation of all cars tootling at 40, whilst lorries hurtle passed in the outside line at nearly 60.
So down Old Folkestone Road, and then getting caught up in the school run traffic. I crawl through Dover, up Connaught Hill and then get caught up in the traffic at the Duke of York's roundabout. Deal Road is jammed with traffic too, I take a further 5 minutes to cross through it to the road to St Maggies. An hour and 40 minutes after leaving home, I get back home. Nearly half past eight. So, on with the computer to find that as usual, the shit has hit the fan. I try to put out more fires until the meeting at 11.
As I have chores to run, I bale the meeting at quarter to twelve and head into Dover for an appointment. Just by pure chance, me coming out coincides with the chance to snap a heritage train heading through Dover, so I go down to Ayecliff, park on the main road, and walk through the underpass beneath the A20, and down the steep steps to the footbridge over the line. I have a 20 minute wait for the train, a couple of walkers go past giving me odd looks as I am standing on a bridge with a camera with a hooooge lens. As you do.
It comes, I get a shot I had noticed as I waited, looking through the portal of the tunnel, and the yellow front of the train showing up in the sunshine at Samphire Hoe. I wait for it to come through the tunnel, and much to my surprise, it was rattling on at a fair rate of knots. I switch to my other camera, getting shots as it passed beneath me and on towards Dover.
All that was left was the long climb up the cliffs, in the warm sunshine, dodging the dog shit left by careless owners.
Back home I have lunch, I check my work mails. I have some thinking to do before I respond, so I decide to mow the lawn as rain is due over the weekend. Once done I still am thinking. And so put of the e mail hand grenades for another day.
At three I leave to go to collect Jools from work, it is clouding over, so no need to think about going to visit the Hoe for more orchid shots, but I can't resist, so go anyway, but the wind is really blowing, and the orchids bopping like hooped clubbers at a rave. I give up and walk abck to the car and drive to Hythe, where Jools is walking across the green to meet me.
Once home we have coffee, more chocolate, and I prepare and cook chorizo hash. Which is good. Very good.
We sit down at half eight to watch The Don. I am turning into my gandparents, just need a teasmade to make a cuppa at half four in the morning.
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