My back is slightly better, but soon stiffens up soon after getting up, thankfully Florence Nightingjools has made a coffee for me once I stumble down the stairs and perch myself on the corner of the chair in front of the PC which she has already switched on. It is a sad fact that you can tell when I am feeling really poorly is that I bail from the dining room table to sit on the softer sofa, in which case Molly can come and keep me company until eight o'clock when I really have to go to work sitting at the dining room table, but by then the drugs were beginning to kick in, so the pain was beginning to subside.
And as usual, the sky was about to fall. I didn't know it as I had a second cup of coffee, but then each time the phone rings or an e mail drops into Outlook, it really could change everything.
But first I had to take Jools to work, for reasons that will become clear later in the day. But it did mean not only getting up at a reasonable time, but being dressed and ready to drive to the other side of Folkestone. Breakfast could wait until I got home.
Jools made her lunch, we loaded the car and I took the car past Wallett's Court to the Duke of Yorks, down Jubilee Way then along the old harbour to the climb out of town. And as usual, a ferry had just docked and the roads were busy with cars and trucks heading north, but at least with it being half term, some of the usual traffic stayed at home. Dawn was coming as we drove up Shakespeare along the A20, a clear blue sky promised a fine day.
Hythe is quiet this time of day at least, with few people out and about, just those who work with Jools, sitting outside the warehouse, smoking in full view of the people in their new million pound plus flats, the fronts might overlook the beach, but the backs have the industrial estate. After dropping her off, I turn round to get back home as close to eight as possible to start work. Traffic was heavier heading to Dover, but still not too bad, so I fly up Jubilee Way and home, getting back at five past, time enough to make a fresh pot of coffee and have breakfast.
At four I have to feed the cats, have a wash and then get back in the car to drive back to Hythe to pick Jools up, as we had a date in Sussex.
We drive up the Motorway to Ashford, battle our way round the ringroad before taking the main road over the marshes to Brenzett. Darkness was falling, headlights seemed bright in the hlaflight, and a slight mist was rising from the ditches and dykes both sides of the road. We were crossing the Romney Marsh, the closet thing to Norfolk in Kent, once home to herds of hardy sheep and hardier folk who looked after them and eeked out a living. Villages and ancient churches survive here, between the Downs and the coast.
It was dark by the time we got to Rye in Sussex, following the main road down either side of the river, crossing the small bridge, then a short dash over the last of the marshes before the unexpected steep climb at Winchelsea, still guarded by ancient gatehouses visible from the main road. This skirts round the edge of the town, getting up the down via an unexpected hairpin bend.
From there the road undulates its way to Hastings, where the road drops down to the beach, then skirts the seaside past the reopened pier, through St Leonards and finally into Bexhill.
We found a place to park the car near the De la Warr Pavilion where we were here to see a concert. It is a fine town, looking quite wealthy, but the high street seemed down on its luck, with many closed shops. And yet there were places to eat, and we find one place with only one occupied table; they do stir fries and curries, we go on and make our choices. And we were joined on adjacent tables by two couples who both talk loudly about work, birthdays and Sex and the City. It is oddly fascinating, hearing what looks like a wealthy businessman explain her admiration for Kim Cattrall, the one time shop dummy.
The food is great, not too much, and flavoursome which we each have a small bottle of booze. I even have a desert; some icecream for me and panna cotta for Jools. Its only a two minute walk back to the venue, a wonderful art deco building, which was playing hope to a favourite of Jools and I, Public Service Broadcasting. We go in and walk into the auditorium where the support act, Palace, were playing some great stuff. We find a place near the front to watch them, then when two ladies leave at the end of their set, Jools and I have places at the front. One of the ladies was the Mother of the singer in Palace, she was very proud of him, and rightly so. Has a great voice and a fine geetar player.
We wait 40 minutes whilst roadies do their thing and prepare the stage for the main act. PSB are great, and are showcasing their new album based on the coalfields of South Wales and the communities they used to support. THere is film playing in the background, as the band plays for 100 minutes. It is stunning I have to say.
It is twenty to eleven by the time they are done, and we walk to the car and make our way out of the town onto the main road. The A259 might twist and turn, but after 11 is mainly empty, so we can make good time cruising over the downs then dropping down through deserted Rye and across the marshes back to Ashford and home.
We get back at ten past midnight, and are pooped, but our ears ring with the music we heard. Another one of them good days.
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