Another cloudy and cool Bank Holiday. At least it wasn't raining.
Although, no one told the forecast to the clouds, which parted just before dawn, and we were treated to a wonderful sunrise, then the valley was bathed in warm early morning sunshine. We really should have done more with it, but on such days it takes some time to get going, and by the time we were ready for the day, clouds were thickening, and that, we thought, would it for sunshine that day.
A friend had posted an event on Faceache that the Grand Shaft would be open, it was featured on a TV last week on the history of Dover Castle, only half a mile out, Channel 5! Anyway, I realsied it was some years since we last visited, and I have a new camera, and it means taking photos, so why not?
Why not, indeed.
So just gone ten we get in the car for a short drive into the town and up the other side to the car park at Western Heights. As we pass the castle, the overflow car park is already filling up, and there is much traffic also making its way up Castle Hill. We drive on.
Just two other cars at Western Heights, so we get out, get the cameras out of the boot, and begin the long walk down. The Grand Shaft is a triple helix staircase designed to get as many troops in a short a time as possible from the barracks on Western Heights to the harbour in case of invasion. It is wonderful, and unique. But then it is a long way from the top of St Martin's Battery to the harbour, and there is a steep road to walk down a couple of hundred yards, down some more steps and through a gate to the Grand Shaft itself. Unless you count the long flight of steps leading to the top of the shaft being part of it.
And all the while in the back of your mind is the thought that your legs would have to bring you all the way back up.
And to the top of the Shaft itself, and three people were spending their day off running up and down the Shaft. Power to them, although they were suffering. One guy had already run up and down four times, but he said he wan't enjoying it. Down and down, round and round we go, getting lower and lower, until below I could hear the voice of my friend Paul who was sweeping some of the paint that had flaked off the walls.
We have a look round and I snap the entrance on Snargate Street, before I gird my loins, again, for the long climb back up. I swap cameras and walk up the dimly lit tunnel to the Shaft, pick a staircase and begin the climb. I stop regularly to snap out of the many windows, but I get higher and higher, until with a puff I come out back into the fresh air. I pass two of the runners looking shattered, but then they had run, I had stomped. Up the stairs to the road, then back up the steep road to the car.
It is me or is it hot? I take my coat off, and in the car we open the windows and drive off, weak sunshine is trying to break through and it feels springlike.
Back home we do an hour's gardening, putting on more mulch on the raspberries and gooseberries, I then mow the lawn, plant some sunflowers and other seeds. All looks good. Even better when the sun does break through.
Being a Bank Holiday, there has to be more football, and another afternoon of full Football League fixtures. Which means more huddling over the computer following the games on Twitter with an ear on the radio, trying not to swear as results go against us. Only it is a fine afternoon to be a City fan, only cloud being Bournemouth's comeback to going 2 down to Brum to win 4-2 to soar to top spot. City beat Sheffield Wednesday 2-0 at home to take 2nd, we had been top for a while until Bournemouth's comeback. Oh well, that will do. 5 games to go, in one of the automatic promotion places, that will do.
I cook roast beef for dinner, along with Yorkshire puddings, veg and roast tatties. Lovely stuff. I have the final bottle of the silly strong Danish beer, I can't drink it all, and a third of the large bottle goes down the sink.
The day is over, the weekend is over. It is dark outside and there is a badger feasting on roast spuds and left over gravy.
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