Friday 23rd February 2019

The weekend had arrived.

And what to do with it?

Well, we did need to do some shopping, even if we are eating less these days. But we could carry on after shopping and stay out for the day.

So that was the plan. I just had to decide where in Kent we would be going.

A friend of mine online posted some shots from north Kent near to Gravesend, and as I had not visited that church, I though we should go there.

We were going to the triangle of the county bordered by the motorways, M25, M20 and A2. It is near to London, and one would think urban sprawl.

So, Jools set the sat nav for the first church, and we drove up the A2, taking our time as we did not want to get there too early before the church might be opened.

We turned off the eight lane A2, and headed west into unknown territory. Our first stop was to be Fawkham, I had no idea what to expect.

We drove through a large village, small town, where our next church was to be. Back out into the countryside, and on the edge of what looked like a park was a tiny whitewashed church; Fawkham.

The main reason for being here was to look at the wild flowers growing in the churchyard, but as it was a church I had not visited, I would try to take the chance to snap that too.

Along the stone wall there were many "pillows" of snowdrops, looking marvelous in the sunshine. In the shade a few clumps for green leaves, and closed flowers showing them to be Winter Aconites, not in huge numbers. And under the birch trees, a few scattered corcus reaching for the sky, opening their mouths to reveal bright yellow tongues, as they shout for joy that spring had arrived.

The church was locked.

I tried to door half a dozen times. I go to check the notice board. The one in the porch, in the car park and on the road.

I go back to the porch and check the door once again. A voice asked: can I help you?

I explain the pain of the churchcrawler, just want to get inside and take some shots I explain the project, give him a Moo card, and he is satisfied, and lets me in.

It is fine inside, and I snap away, taking many shots. As is my way.

Our next church is Hartley. Another ancient church, but this one has a new extension on the west end, although that was locked. The church was open. On the walls were fragments of medieval paintings, mostly faded, but still remarkable survivors.

A mile or so away was Longfield.

People were busy in the churchyard, sweeping, cleaning, pruning, while in the church all built on to the church, a coffee moening was under way, Sadly, it was heavily Victianised, but just a few hints of its history were left.

It left me cold, so we moved on to Meopham.

It is a fine church, full of interesting features, and some of the best Victorian tiles I have seen.

I also received a warm welcome from a lady doing the flowers. I had tried to get in, there was a large sign saying the church was open, but the modern door would not open. I didn't like to push too hard, but seems the little old lady knew just where to push to open the door.

Where are you going next, she asked. Not sure I said. Probably will end up at Ifield. Not going to Cobham then? It has the best collection of brasses in the country.

I felt that was a challenge, and one we would meet. Its hard to park there, she said. Park in the Leather Bottle opposite, and maybe have a drink and a meal there?

Now, that was a plan I did like.

So, we drive to Cobham, and after ten minutes we come up to a fine picture-postcard village, blessed with timber tramed thatched houses, three pubs, and a church on the hill.

I say to Jools that she should go to the pub and I would nip into the church.

It was astonishing.

In the chancel there is a pavement featuring 17 life-sized medieval brasses of knights and their wives, and in the centre a box tomb with very fine carved figures. Right in the centre of the chancel. Most remarkable.

Two wardens are measuring the height of the roof to buy ladders so the lightbulbs in the lamps can be changed safely, they are using a laser. But my story of the church project, places I have visited and my joy of being there distracts one of the wardens, getting a series of tuts from his colleague.

I go back to the pub, find Jools in the restaurant, but it is warm enough to sit in the beer garden. So we do. Later the car would tell us it was 17 degrees, and it felt very much that warm.

We order BBQ ribeye steak rolls, and I have a pint of the local beer named after the pub.

When I order I was asked if I wanted to see Dickens' bag, which they had on display. He wrote Pickwick Papers in the pub, and featured it in the boom too. Sounds great, but the great man loved Kent and there are few pubs and hotels that can't claim not to have had him stay.

The food is wonderful the first food either of us ate that day. As we sat, two Brimstone butterflies fluttered past, reminding us that there are other things, not just churches to see.

We visit one last church. Ifield, which I can see from my favoured side of trains on HS1 heading into London. It sits in front of a curtain of trees, and is pretty as a picture, but we find it locked, the only one locked on this day.

A disappointment.

I say to Jools that we will head for home, so we follow the lane for half a mile, then at the roundabout turn south onto the A2, onto the eaight lane road, and cruise home at 60 mph, just enjoying the day, the warm sunshine and signs of spring all around.

We get home at quarter to three, just in time to put the radio on to listen to the football.

Norwich were playing Bristol City, who were on a seven game winning run. It would be a tough game.

The season is coming to its climax now, 13 games to go, and results now are everything, as are nerves. City go one down after 12 minutes. The on half hour level, but Bristol kick off and break into the Norwich half and their forward weaves his way through the defence and plants the ball in the corner.

1-2 at half time, and I was all nerves.

But this is a new Norwich team, they level again on the hour, then score from a fine half volley a few minutes later, and see the game out to win again and remain top fo the league. 12 games to go. The pressure grows.

We go to Whitfield for more card action.

I no longer drink beer or wine when I go, and we have cut out the snacking too. Just cards and a fresh brew.

I have dreadful cards all night, Jen wins heavily, which shows luck just goes round.

We have to cut the evening shot as my back is not happy, sitting on the kitchen chairs that dug into my back.

Means we were hoe in time to see the highlights of the Norwich game. I sit in darkness with a wee dram to take it all in.

Exciting times.