Once a year, those of us who like a bit of culture, have one day a year on which we can with some certainty, get entry to churches and other buildings which are normally locked or not usually open for visitors. This is the annual heritage day, which in theory lasts for four days, but in practice, most buildings, churches especially, are only open the Saturday. I am well under way in visiting and snapping Kentish churches, I have done something like 210 of them, but some churches are a pain, and a bane. So, with the list of what was open, and a list from the annual ride and stride charity event which should see many more churches open and staffed, I create another list of the tricky local churches I would like to get into, on the list were some new ones, but old 'favourites' like Northbourne School, Whitfield and Preston.
On Friday night, Jools and I made a list, or rather I made a list and she did a route, which I amended. So, all was set for a good day or churching on the morrow.
And when the big day arrived, and once the usual visit to Tesco was out of the way, I checked the cameras, lists and even remembered my notebook with the masterlist of all churches visited, so we were all set fair. I say set fair, but of course the weather wasn't going to ball ball, at least not in the morning, so we drove to Folkestone into what seemed like one of those 'end of the world' downpours, when day turned to night, and any speed above 30mph seemed foolhardy.
But we arrived safe and sound in Saltwood, a small village now absorbed as part of Folkestone. It is an attractive place, with a fine hotel, village hall, and at the end of a long dead end lane is a wonderful church. We parked at the end of the long winding brick path that lead to the lych gate, the only thing we would ask, is it open? So, I leave Jools in the car and go to check the door. It swings open, with a fine interior becoming visible. I have to go back to the car to get the cameras and so tell Jools we could get in.
As what will become a pattern for the day, once I had got my shots, we looked at the list and drove to the next church. Now, due to me playing GWUK again, some of these I can't reveal the location of, as yet.
Anyway, seeing on the notice board that Saltwood controls, if that is the right word, the chapel of east at Pedlinge, we think we might go there next, just on the off chance it is open. Pedlinge was once an estate church, and I have never been inside, but I must have visited it about half a dozen times, just in case it was open. Sadly, for me, it wasn't open, Jools tried the door and it did not move. So, another look at the list, and off we go for the shirt drive. After that was my next difficult church, Aldington, a large rural church beside a farm, and is almost always locked. It overlooks the Romney Marsh, but is not one of the marsh churches, but is splendid, or so it looks from outside. I even know the way without looking at the map, and soon the massive un-Kent-like tower can be seen across the fields.
And after parking on the narrow quiet lane outside, and a long walk through the incredibly large churchyard, and to my delight there was a sign outside the door pointing the way in. So, in we go, and another delight awaited us, including two wardens who I think were not anticipating getting any visitors. Are you a rider? no. Are you a strider? no. So I explain the photographing Kent church thing, and they seemed happy, and very happy to talk.
I believe I was polite in engaging in conversation as I went about my photographic duties, but I may have been a tad single minded, if so, I am sorry.
Now, I had noticed that the lane we were on continued to Sellindge, another church I have found locked on more than one occasion, so, we should go that way. Down the valley-side, under the motorway, the two railway lines and into the village, turning up the A20 and hurtling past the church the first time, neither of us seeing it. We turn round, head back through the village and just notice it as we speed by again. We do stop right by it the third time, and I believe I can see the door open.
Indeed it is, and I surprise another warden, who is doing some maintenance as I begin snapping, the whirring shutter alerting him. We talk. A lot. And I am in there for half an hour, but it is another fine church, and one in which I get a warm welcome. But the church is always locked now since local kids tried to burn it down last year. Is life so dull in rural Kent where only burning the local thousand year old church will make things better? I doubt it.
One last church before lunch is at Hougham. Pronounced Huff-ham. Or Church Hougham as it should be. I was here many years ago, before I began work at the box factory, it was locked then, so would i get in? Yes, and no as it turned out.The village had a fete on, Chuffest, and many houses and buildings had stalls or were selling food and drink. And the church was holding a quilt exhibition. So, once we parked up and I walked to the church, I found all surfaces and most of the walls covered in wonderful quilts, but still covered. So near and yet so far. I said I would come back, maybe in another 6 years. Tat the organiser did not know it was the heritage weekend was a tad disappointing.
We drove home, through Dover, just in time to see some out of town agitators stage an anti-immigration demonstration: most had masks on and looked right idiots, but then I suppose Dover will become the focus for these. Castle Street is also blocked off by police, as I guess the market square was where the main demonstration would be. How long ago now does the image of the drowned child seem? How quickly we forget.
Jools bails on the afternoon of churching, which is only to be expected, but anyway, I expect it all to be over by four, so I have three hours to get cracking.
Walmer has two large churches on the main road through to Deal, a Baptist and a Catholic one, so finding there was an ancient Anglican one was a surprise, but finding there was also a modern Victorian one as well was a massive surprise. Both are called St Mary, so I thought I was going to the Old Church, but found myself outside a huge Victorian church, which again was staffed by two wardens who greeted me as the second person they had had that day, and the first heritage one. Inside, it was very impressive, so I snapped away, and the warden even drew me a map to where the old church was, down Church Street, of course.
I manage to find a place to park outside the old church, and follow two cyclists through the large churchyard to a Norman church, which after being largely expanded in the 18th century, was returned to its original size and layout in the 19th, and very well done indeed. And the inside of the the church was covered, I mean covered in memorials. It was now a race against time, and after finding two more open, I head to Northbourne School not expecting the old Betteshager church to be open, so in that I was not disappointed in that it was locked. It also takes some finding, which I really resent. I was going to go to Preston, but after receiving no reply to the mail I sent ten bays before, I could not be bothered to go on another wasted journey. My last stop was Whitfield, which also is never open, but to my surprise was, but only for a wedding, so I could not go in. Oh well, 13 churches visited, 10 open, all in all not a bad day.
I go home, with the radio on, just as Norwich score their third of the afternoon to seal the game against Bournemouth. We do concede one late on, but hold on to rise to eighth in the league, Chelski lose at Everton, and later on, Liverpool lose against Man Utd, neither of whom really convinced.
Sunday
What with three days away, and then the day of churching yesterday, I really did not feel up to much on Sunday. And so I did next to nothing, which worked out just fine. I could have done some gardening, walking, foraging, but in the end, TV, radio, eating, computing and general lazing around. I did not even go to see Nan, I stayed home and ate popcorn and snoozed on the sofa listening to the radio. I bought a box of microwave popcorn, and it cooks in less than two minutes and is great. But I ate all three packs in three days, and know that if there were more, I would eat those. So, no more poppin for me.
I start the day with MOTD, Chelski losing to Everton, Man UTD beating Liverpool. And once I cooked bacon butties, watching Norwich carve Bournemouth open at will. Great stuff.
We had a bit of a clear out, old clothes and books we really will not read and don't want to keep. But we did keep both sets of His Dark Materials, among other stuff we could have put of for the charity collection. We now have more space on the shelves which means we can now buy more books.
I suppose what we both fear is our house becoming like Mum's, where all surfaces are covered in tat and crap. So, we have cleared out and it feels much better.
We have lunch, and then the rain arrives, putting pay to anything but eating popcorn, drinking beer and snoozing on the sofa listening to the radio with Molly, whilst Jools visits Nan.
The day fades, the rain hammers down outside. I cook dinner, kofte kebabs, which were spicy and great, before we tidied up and were ready to watch a new BBC adaptation of An Inpsector Calls, which I had not read before, so it was all new to me. Not what I expected, and a good social commentary. And, once more, that was your weekend.
This week sees me taking a day trip to Holland, a 20 hour day, with added meetings.
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