Wednesday 23rd December 2020

My words cannot descrie the scenes I witnessed on the way to Tesco yesterday.

I'm not being dramatic. Honestly.

People were parked up where they could, drivers and passengers milling around looking dazed, standing outside the truck, van or minibus, all waiting for news. News that would not come, or when it did, it was bad news for them, that drivers in the queues on the M20 or at Manston would get tested forst and get to cross to France. Many had been told to go to Manston, only to find when they got there is was already full and the gates locked.

Go back to Dover they were advised.

So, here they were, parked on the pavement of a retail park or on the side of a roundabout, some on the overbridge looking down on the A2 which was now a lorry park.

It was like a scene from a film about war or alien invasion, the last dregs of humanity, puffing on one last roll up, sipping a cup of cold coffee, waiting for the end.

And there was nothing I could do. Really.

I mean I live here, I was on a quest for butter, potatoes, freezer bags and courgettes, which I got in Tesco are waiting in line fo ten minutes, going round, paying and leaving again.

On the way out I pass the same people, with the parking onto the onramp even thicker than on the other side.

All the way down the Sandwich Road there were trucks and vans parked, so were having breakfast, some were trying to sleep, and in a pre-dawn chill that would only bring another day of waiting for news.

All the way to Sandwich there were truck here and there, and again on the bypass, and even a van parked up at Ash, the driving alone trying to get some sleep.

I drive on to the butchers in Preston, over the fields along the half flooded lanes, then wait outside for 15 minutes to go in to collect our order, already bagged up. Some extra pigs in blankets? Don't mind if I do.....

I pay and drive back, this time via Deal and Walmer, where the road is marked as no entry for Op Brock. I don't see any more parked trucks until I get back in St Maggies.

Along the Strand in Deal, dawn was revealing the bleakness of the seaside in winter, no bright lights flashed, the pubs had been shut since the beginning of November.

I go home and unpack the car, I sort of the meat, some to freeze, some to put in the fridge for Christmas, then make breakfast of bacon butties.

And then on with the salt beef, adding herbs, spices and sgar to the water, bring to the boil and then simmer for three hours, all done to be ready when Jools came back from her last half day at work.

Most of the rest of the day was spent either eating or watching the traffic radar on Google and the spread of the road closed signs, until all main routes into Dover were jammed, I wrote to Jools telling of this fact,a nd suggested going up to Wigham, Sandwich and Deal to come home. She risked coming through town and just got through, out onto Reach Road and home.

We feast on hot salt beef sandwiches followed by Christmas cake.

Its a horrible job, but someone has to do it.

The follow it soon after with tea of fresh sausage rolls, straight from the oven, and they're so good we eat them all in one sitting.

And followed those with more Christmas cake.

There was football at the end of the day, Everton v Man Utd. I stay awake. Just.