Monday 4th April 2016

One month until the start of the great big oriental adventure.

Just sayin'

Sunday

In a change to the norm of recent week, what with Norwich winning and being first game on MOTD an all that, Sunday required a slow start to the day, consisting of lazing on the sofa, watching football and bacon butties. Though in mitigation, I did make the butties, so not all lazing about it, but then there was the promise of very crispy bacon at the end of it.

How wonderful it is to be able to watch the footy without wincing. Not quite true, as City did manage to throw away the lead twice before scoring the eventual winner deep into injury time. And then with Sunderland failing to score as well, it all turned out to be another fine weekend of football for us with a Norfolk bent.

What with Jools washing up as I watched the less important games on TV, we were all clear for some walking around the neighbourhood and all that kind of stuff.

it was nine before we were ready to go out, and the clear weather of two hours previously had grown hazy, as banks of sea mist could be seen in the distance.

You know the route by now, over the fields to the pig's copse (still no pigs this year), then down the dip, which I found out last week has a name: Norway Drove, which I will use all the time now.

Close up the colours of nature were vibrant, but in the distance, hazy as the mist got thicker

At the top of Norway Drove, the bank opposite is full of wild primroses, including some a dark and vibrant yellow, a colour I have not seen in the wild before.

A quick walk to the top of the hill at Otty Bottom, then back home in time for elevenses, at which point the sun got out, the mist cleared, and we had our warmest day of the year. Very spring-like.

Thinking about my upcoming travel plans, I realise I would have little time at weekends for the humdrum stuff like shopping and haircuts. I could sort one out by getting a barnet mangle that morning. Jen was coming round so Jools could sort out her i pad, we have n real idea about Apple Inc. products, but we can but try. So, I got in the car with the plan maybe of going down Samphire Hoe too to check up on the tiny orchids. In the end what with the ones at Kingsdown not being out, I gambled that these ones would not be as advanced, so saved myself a quid at the car park on The Hoe and drove straight to Folkestone.

It is a well known fact that the British will migrate to the seaside on any day designated a Bank Holiday, regardless of what the weather is forecasted or actually is. Other than those days, a day where the temperature rises above 10 degrees coupled with some sunshiiiine, will see city-dwelling Brits battling down motorways, through roadworks to get to the seaside so they can sit on the prom and shiver whilst complaining about how cold it was. Only some days, it really is as warm as it looks, and Sunday was one of them days.

I mention the above, because when I got to Folkestone, it seemed all of those living in the SOuth East had beaten me to it, although I was lucky enough to arrive just as someone was reversing out of a parking space, allowing me to nip in. Driving through Dover and to Capel, the mist thickened to make fog, it got darker, not very nice at all. But down in Folkestone, around the harbour where it was a little sun trap, it was clear and downright warm.

I went up the Old High Street to the barber; only to find the shop locked up, dark and empty, they had run away! Bastards, did this mean I would have to go back to my old barber in Dover and get regular abuse? No, as it turned out.

Att he top of the Old High Street there was another barber's open, I go in and its young hairdresser blokey, all waiting for a customer and all that. They had moved to a larger premises, and the owner of the old place took down the signs informing people of the move. I get shorn of my brown/blonde ragtop barnet, and feel lighter and cooler which was the whole point really. I find myself in Folkestone on the hottest day of the year, with thousands of others who, at the first sight of the ball of burning gas in the sky, attempt to re-enact the Normandy beach landings with their kids. Or something.

The beaches were packed, as were the car parks. But I battled on, throwing young children out of my way as I made my way round the harbour to the harbour arm, with promise of food, which turned out to be yet more seafood in vinegar.

I heard one child excitedly ask its parents about the railway line and if there would be trains: I nearly said, no more son. No more.

There were fine views from the new car park to the old harbour and along the coast to Shamphire Hoe and Dover beyond, although that was almost lost in the haze of the sea mist. On the harbour arm there is places to get food, but it seems that the main place is selling more pickled seafood; winkles, welks but also has fresh oysters. Now, I don't desire to pour liquid snot down my throat, so skip the oysters and walk back to the car because dodging out of the way of out of control kids was driving me mad. And angry.

So, I am back at the car, and manage to get out fo the smapll car pack, which is jammed with more people arriving looking for spaces so they can park then walk round the harbour eating ice cream.

I drive back up Tramway Road, beside the old harbour branch, then back up through Capel all the time thinking about lunch I end up going to Greggs in the High Street for a warm sausage roll and a Chelsea bun for both of us, then driving back home before the sausage roll cooled down.

In the afternoon I alternated between listening to ten minutes of the Leicester game on the wireless, then going to sit outside in the warm sunshine; it felt like summer. Leicester won, and are now just six games from the impossible dream of winning The Prem. The impossible made possible.

Jools goes to visit Nan, and once the sun sank lower in the west and cooled down, I prepared and began to cook chorizo hash, which, I notice meant I was coming to the end of the half kilo of smoked paprika that I though would last forever.

Anyway, with glasses of cool beer and cider, we sat down to eat as Man Utd ran out 1-0 winners over Everton, and outside the sky clouded over. Later one would loght we could hear the folks next door moving their wheely bin about: again and again we though we heard the rumble as we imagined it being taken up the drive and back down again. Could it be thunder I asked...

I opened the back door and was nearly blinded by a hooooge flash of lightning, and the rain hammering down from a very angry sky. The storm last for a good hour, then quietening down, only to flare up again once we had gone to bed.