Sunday 18th October 2015

Saturday

And like the past three days, the keen north eastern breeze was due to bring frequent showers to this part of Blighty, so, should be use the day to relax, or get stuff done? In the end, a little bit of both.

And as is the norm, first thing is to get some shopping in: so after a first cup of coffee, we grab the bags and head to Sainsury's. Yes, we take our bags, and have for several years though, but these past two weeks western civilisation has nearly collapsed with the introduction of a 5p charge for each bag used. The very same newspapers, I'm talking about you here Daily Mail, that called for the charge for the sake of the environment have been calling for its abolition. Nothing like playing both sides by Paul Dacre. Anyway, we take our bags, go round, buy some beer and cider, some fruit and veg, and the job is done.

Back home before eight for breakfast and more coffee, and then to decide what to do with the day.

I decide that it is high time I get the turntable repaired: a few weeks ago we went to try to get the cartridge changed, but in the end I could not get the old one off. Despite the people in the shop telling me the stylus should just pull off, it didn't. So that meant the only real choice was to take the whole turntable into the shop. I also had the idea to visit a church or two when I was in the city.

Jools decided to stay home, so that meant I was free to take whatever diversions my heart desired. Once I had got the turntable repaired.

Much to my surprise, the car park outside the city walls was already full, I drive round the car park a couple of times before I notice some spaces on the road outside the Abbey. Two ponds buys me 90 minutes of parking and so, grabbing the deck I walk into the shopping centre and the hi fi shop. I put the deck on the counter, and the assistants look at the pick up arm, in that way that people do when they know things are going to be expensive. One of them punches details in a search engine, and tells me the only replacement they can find, anywhere in the world, is in America, and is damaged and even with that it is £160.

Or they can put a new cartridge on, and after that it will be a stylus change if needed. I have no choice, really, so I say OK, and they guy gets is tool kit out, and has as much trouble as I did in undoing the screws holding the cartridge onto the arm. I look round the shop at some of the shiner and more expensive speakers and amps on display, whilst there is some quiet swearing from those behind the counter. After twenty minutes, the job is done, and there is just the job of giving the new head a test drive on a Simple Minds twelve inch, which sounds good to me. They even balance the arm for me, so it is all done, and for eighty five quid.

Just down a narrow street from the car park is yet another church; as if Canterbury needs more, but then it is the centre of Christendom here on Earth. I have been to St Paul's a few times, but always found it closed, but even from the end of the street, I could see a sandwichboard outside, hinting that I may be lucky and find it open.

Inside, the church was full of light and people, Kent Mother's Union were holding their first fete of the millennium, and I just happened to stumble across it. It did mean I could not get some of the shots I wanted, but to see the church so full of people, doing good work was heartwarming.

I go round to get my shots, and pause to buy some cheese scones from a mid-afternoon snack once I am home.

On the way out, I stop to talk to who turned out to be the organiser, and the grande fromage in the local MU: when I said I could not get into St Mildred's, she said I should call her PA, and gave me a card. Next year is their 140th anniversary, and they wanted a collection of the MU's banners from Kentish churches: oh I have many of them on my photostream I said. I may have a friend there. We swap contact details, and I go away happy with that random meeting.

Just outside the city walls, and beside what is now the University campus stands the oldest church still in use in the English speaking world: their words, and claim, not mine. St Martin was consecrated in Roman times, and Bede says that Queen Bertha and St Augustine both worshiped here in the 6th century. There;s 1400 years history right there!

I find a place to park on the main road near the church, after driving round for ten minutes and finding it all resident parking. But, if I read the notice right, this should be free to park here. I just hoped I would not have a ticket when I returned.

Up the narrow lane to the church, and in front there is just the lychgate in view. Through the gate and up the steep path to the open door in the base of the tower, I reached for the inner door hoping it would opn: it does, and I am inside. Although the thrill of making it inside, that soon fades as I see there is very little of real antiquity here left by those pesky Victorians. One thing is wonderful, however, is the Saxon west end of the church, stripped of plaster and showing it's original stonework and blocked windows and archways.

After getting my shots, I go outside to look around the walls, and see almost everywhere, red Roman bricks mixed in with the Kentish flints. Quite amazing really. The churchyard is extensive, but it does not reveal a clear view of the church obscured as it was by large trees.

I walk back to the car, find it without a parking ticket, thankfully. All I have to do now is work out the best route home avoiding the traffic in the city centre. Out to Wingham before doubling back to Womenswold and back onto the A2, and from there is was a simple drive back home, arriving home at half one, time for late lunch and listen to the football on the radio. Liverpool's first game under their new manager, Herr Klopp.

However, on the way between Wingham and Womanswold lies Addisham, where another church I have struggled to get into sits. Church of the Holy Innocents is an unusual dedication, but it is an imposing church sitting on the brow of a hill beside what must have once been a main road. Last time I was here some two years ago, a new floor was being laid, so my initial thrill of seeing the door open was tempered by the fact there was no floor inside, and workment seemed to be laying underfloor heating. Would it be open?

In a word: no. But it did list keyholders; should I try? Yes, I think I should.Addisham was a much larger village than I thought, and the keyholder's house was a good ten minute walk away. All the way along The Street I was telling myself why I was wasting my time with this as the keyholder would be out at lunchtime on a Saturday afternoon. I knocked at the door of the old Post Office, a dog barked and a berating voice told it to be quiet. I was in luck.

Once I passed the 20 questions test as to why I wanted to go into the church, as they have had a lot of vandalism, sadly, I was granted the bunch of keys, a small bunch that could have been for a holiday letting rather than a grand village church. Back along The Street, and up the lane to the church.

I opened the porch door, undid the two locks on the main inner door, and I was inside. A huge criciform church, with a tower in the centre. I walked right onto the west wing that had been re-floored. It looked fine, but the pews have been removed, and modern chairs are being added as and when finances allow. It looks OK, but a little souless. However, the rest of the church is stunning, far too big for a village that size, but points to great local wealth back in the mists of time.

I spend over half an hour taking shots, with both cameras. I get some fine shots I think, but that will come with the editing.

I drive back to the old PostOffice, drop the keys off, and point the car towards home

That ends 0-0, but is entertaining enough, I suppose. During the game, I plug the turntable back in, and road test it with the PSB LP, it sounds great I have to say. Should have done this a long time ago.

I lay on the sofa with Molly as the three o'clock games kick off. With City playing on Sunday I have a laid-back attitude with the games, and I might even snooze some.

Neither of us are hungry come the evening, so we have cheese and crackers, The day fades into night, we watch some TV: Dr Who followed by QI. Is that ten already? Must be bed time, then. And already, half the weekend had passed already.