Sunday 31st January 2016

Saturday

For a change, we had done all the shopping we needed through the week, so there was no need to get up early to either Tesco or Sainsbury's first thing. I had toyed with the idea of going to the barnet mangler at half eight, but with the rain falling outside, I decided to stay in and comb my long flowing locks. Looking at the weather, it was due to clear up soon after lunch and with shots needed to be taken at Shakespeare Beach and of Burlington House, one might have thought that would be easy enough to do in the few hours of afternoon sunlight. However, and there is always an however, it seems some political fuckwits had other ideas. What with Dover being so close to France and the shanty town of immigrants in Calais, the far right felt the need to protest and smash up Dover to make their stupid point. Needless to say, the far left also felt the need to hold a counter-demonstation and window smash up, so Dover was to be locked down most of the day.

In the event, I went over to Preston to buy some meat, as you do. Now, St Mildred's in Preston is one of the churches that has eluded any attempts by me to snap inside it, being that it is always bloody locked. So, for the second time I wrote to the vicar asking for details on how I could get inside. I received no reply. Again. So, it was just to the butcher I went. I got ribbed because of the Liverpool result last week, but in good nature of course. Mark plied me with free samples of cheese, but I did not give in, we already have a selection at home.

The back roads are almost flooded, and tricky for our little Corsa to get through, shows how much rain there has been. I come back via Deal as I want to miss all the port traffic now being diverted onto the A2 to avoid the protests, which is a good excuse to drive along the coast road and past the fishing boats on the beach.

Skies began to clear, and with cabin fever setting in, I felt the need to get out. The plan which we hatched was to go to Folkestone via the Alkham Valley road, me get a haircut and then come back along the A20 to Aycliffe to get shots of the repair work. Traffic was quite heavy, and at the bottom of the valley the Drellingore was flowing again, what must be the 3rd or 4th winter in a row it has. I will try to snap it on Sunday as the train of traffic behind us made it dangerous to pull in to take a shot.

Once in Folkestone we walk up the Old High Street to the barbers I might now use all the time to to the fact there is hardly ever a queue and they're open on Sundays too. Anyway, I get my hair cut, the young clipper is interested in my job and how much traveling I do. He is jealous, and I suppose it is a pretty good job too.

We drive past the long lines of parked trucks along the A20, queues that would get worse as the day goes on and the protests will spill onto the main roads. We turn off at Megger, and drive back along to the subway. And after unpacking my cameras we walk under the road then up the narrow path up the cliff. It is high tide and most work had stopped, but it is clear they have uncovered much more damage and many more sink holes. Work will be extensive and take months I think.

I try to drive back home along Townwall Street, but can see a line of police cars blocking the road to the port, we have no choice but to double back along the A20 and drive back to Hawkinge and then back along the Alkham Valley road, through River and up Connaught HIll to the castle then along the cliff road home. It took a while, but we were not held up, and we arrived home at half two just in time to have the radio on to listen to the three o'clock kick offs in the Cup. Sadly, City are already out, but still, the Cup!

I cook steak for dinner; its been ages since we had it, and it was as wonderful as hoped. They had an offer on aged rump, and it was melt in the mouth lovely.

Somehow it is eight in the evening already, where did the time go? We tidy up meaning it is nearly nine before we sit down for coffee. It may have been a dull, quiet day, but it was light until nearly 5, the year is getting on and soon there will be orchids to hunt. Soon be time for the madness.