Sunday 4th March 2018

As happens after a night out at Jen's, we did sleep until after seven. It was light, the sun was up, in short it was a glorious morning. Should I really be spending it watching football, then cooking bacon? I mean there are worse ways to spend a Sunday morning, and it sounded good, but rain was expected in the afternoon, so I pondered what to do. Pondered whilst making coffee and then watching the first handful of games on MOTD.

A plan began to form, go out, find a place to eat, have breakfast.

Just where to go, really. I like Deal, but it is just down the coast and we know places there where to eat. Broadstairs was tempting, all them steps, eating down by the harbour. But parking is a pain. Wht not Ramsgate? Why not indeed.

I worked in Ramsgate for something like four years, I used to walk round the harbour at lunchtimes, looks nice, has cafes overlooking the harbour. We could wander along the beach.

So that was all sorted; I called to Jools, "we're going out", meaning that we were leave the house in a very short time, so best get dressed.

It is a case of retracing my old commute, past Sandwich, on to Richborough to Ramsgate. We park down by the harbour, I have just my new camera and the nifty fifty, the sun is shining and it is good to be out. But we are hungry, so on the other side of the harbour we go into a cafe my old boss used to take us in, they had a table looking out to the harbour and able to look at people walking by. We both order a "full English" and wait for it to arrive.

Breakfast is huge, but also good. We don't do it very often, so bacon, eggs, double sausage, mushroom beans and hash browns is all very nice. Possibly a bit too much, but hey.

We walk to the pavillion and round to the main beach, which thanks to the weather had decided to try to take over the town. Sand had been blown into drifts along the promenade, making walking tricky. But we walk on.

My aim was to see the portal of the old Harbour branch which used to run down almost onto the beach. I saw there were signs offering tours of the wartime shelters, so Jools and I said to each other, shall we do the tour?

We shall

In 1863, Ramsgate Harbour station opened, and over time was a heavily used station. Only problem was that the town was served by two rival companies, and the London, Chatham and Dover Railway had their main station here. Access to the station was via a tunnel nearly a mile long and a downward gradient of 1:75, in addition to the steepness of the line and danger of runaway trains, space at the bottom was very limited, with only space for a small turntable, so only small tank locomotives could be used.

Under rationalisation on Thanet in 1926, this and the Margate Beach branch was closed, and the main line linking the two networks completed, Ramsgate Town station being moved to facilitate this.

An electric narrow gauge railway was constructed before the war, and run until 1965 when another accident resulted in closure.

Since 1965, the tunnel had been sealed, but urban explorers did break in and left graffiti everywhere.

Prior to the Second World War, a series of tunnels were constructed for use as air raid shelters, and it is these which the tours now operating are taken along.

The main railway tunnel still has soot on the roof over where the up line would have been, and in places you can see where the sleepers for the narrow gauge railway was lifted.

The shelter tunnels run for over a mile, and had many different entrances, though all are now blocked up, and some of the tunnels have collapsed.

The tunnels dug were in a U shape and had room for thousands to shelter in bunks each night, and although when opened were seen as a waste of money, were very much needed at the end of 1940 as the Blitz began to bite.

People even lived down in the tunnels if their house was bombed, prefabricated wooden frames were used, draped with curtains or other fabric. And with that we were at the end of the tour.

Outside the clouds had rolled in and it was trying to rain. We walk back to the car, now with rain falling steadily. And that was it, back out of town, onto the bypass to home. Arriving home at half twelve, in time for a brew and a chocolate digestive, and the football on the radio.

Arsenal are on, playing poorly against Brighton. Brighton are 2-0 in half an hour, the Gooners pull one back before half time, but can't draw level. I mean, who saw that coming. With Chelsea playing Citeh, I cook dinner; roast beef and the usual. The rain continues to hammer down outside, making it dark too early, like its back on January. The kitchen, and then the house, is full of the smells of roasting beef, veg are steamed and Yorkshire Puddings are put into the oven.

Dinner is ready at half five. By then Citeh were one up, passing the ball like they owned it.

I feel the cold/flu is coming back, I am in a bad mood, not the best time to speak to Mother then. She is OK< but there are rumours that she is trying to buy cigarettes again. So I warn her one last time, if she starts again she loses a son. And I mean it, I will not speak to her again. She is affronted to think she would start again. I mean, where would I get an idea like that from?

But, another weekend has gone.