Sunday 1st March 2020

First day of Spring. Possibly.

And the weather for Sunday was supposed to be crap, got better as the day itself approached, until when it dawned, there would be no rain at all, and just a stiff breeze. Not another storm.

Which was nice.

So, after coffee, we both do session on the cross trainer, then have showers. And in another departure, don't have bacon butties for breakfast, instead I have All Bran, shredded cardboard, with yoghurt instead, the intention was to have dinner at "lunchtime". Or something.

Jools wanted to do the garden, and the young Jelltex wanted to investigate our local winterbournes, the Drellingore and the Nailbourne, as the rain had been falling ever since New Year, and I thought there would be some fine shots to be had, especially as there was sun shining.

A winterbourne is a river that flows only when it is wet, usually in the winter, and is particularly a feature of chalk downland.

The Drellingore is one of the feeders for the River Dour that flows through Dover, and in the past, when it has been very wet, had flooded the whole of the Alkham Valley. And the Nailbourne flows from Lyminge through a number of villages until it becomes the Little Stour at Littlebourne and then flows into the Great Stour at Plucks Gutter.

Yes, Plucks Gutter.

So, I went on on my own, leaving at half nine, driving up to Whitfield, then down through to River and along the Alkham Valley where I expected to see the Drellingore in full flow. But of it there was no sign. After the last lot of very serious flooding 5 years back, there were new pumping stations built, to make sure any excess water was pumped underground.

Seems to have worked.

So, on to the motorway, then up the Elham Valley to Lyminge.

The stream springs from the ground, in the lea of the wall besde the road, meanders across the plating field then goes through the village.

From Lyminge the Nailbourne runs along the valley floor, through Elham and then up to Barham, where the winterbourne used to share the valley floor with the railway and road.

Into Barham, the Nailbourne runs beside a road into the village, even at times when the flow is less than now, the road is partly flooded. Today, it is a torrent, the road closed than people who live along there have sandbags at the end of their drives, their Porches stranded until the river level drops.

A woman tries to take her dog for a walk, along the narrow space between the flood barriers and the wall, but the dog isn't convince, and refuses to go on where the water gets deeper having seeped under the defences.

Just along the valley is Out Elmstead Lane, a place I was once many years ago on a ramble, where the long dried up river bed and warnings of a ford seemed pointless.

Now it is a significant problem for cars, a Mini only just managed to get through, and putted away on three cylinders.

Onto Bishopsbourne, and down the moss-covered road to the village, parking near the church.

Following the path through the churchyard and out through the style, I see the Nailbourne, now in full flow, meandering across the green meadows towards the village of Bridge.

A mile further on is Bridge itself, and the Nailbourne flows under the old A2/High Road, under a bridge.

The bridge at Bridge.

The Nailbourne is now flowing north, and heading towards its eventual end at Pluck Gutter where it flows into the Great Stour, and two miles further on, the Nailbourne becomes the Little Stour at Littlebourne.

I stood beside the Nailbourne on the edge of Bridge. Over the flowing water, kids were playing football, a proper game, and being cheered on by chilly parents. Daffodils grow along the far bank, in the shade of weeping willows.

Rather lovely, really.

Back into the car and under the A2 with the Nailbourne running beside the road, before it meanders over a field before passing under an ornamental bridge, which for the most of the year lust leaps over grass, but now a fast flowing stream passes under it. To Patrixbourne, where the Nailbourne passes under the road. Now, it was hear that I saw that the winterbourne in full flood causes huge issues for those who live beside it. A guy was knee deep in water cleaning our branches and weeds so to ensure the water flow was uninterrupted.

I took a shot of the culvert the Nailbourne passed through under the road, and thought it best I call it a day, lest the trip turn into a kind of disaster porn kinda thing.

I turn the car round and go back to Bridge, then up to the junction with the A2 and back home.

I did get into an argument with a guy going round the Whitfield roundabout who seemed to think getting in the correct lane and indicating a right turn didn't apply to him. A toot on my horn let him know otherwise. Then he tried to run me off the road, which wasn't nice. But he turned off to take the Sandwich road, and I carried on home without any further incident.

Back home we agree that roast beef at lunchtime was a good idea, so I get busy preparing and cooking, and in under two hours we were sitting down to a fine meal. And pink fizz. Of course.

Then there was football, the League Cup Final, which was better than we had any right to expect, but Citeh still won.

We had bacon butties for our tea, then I beat Jools at Uckers again, as we listened to more Huey on the old i player.

And just like that, the weekend was gone.