Saturday 31st July 2021

The weekend. It seems that I had scheduled a whole lot of stuff, well, two things, into Saturday. And as a result of cashing in our saved holiday money, in NZ$, Jools got the refund on Friday afternoon now it is clear we cannot go, only to be presented with £2,600 is hard cash. This was from the currency exchange at Tesco, and by which time the banks had closed for the day. So we had enough for a very large pumpkin in the country, sitting in the old ice bucket.

One solution, apart from buyin ghr most expensive pumpkin in history, would be for Jools to stay in Dover and walk back from town after depositing the money. The other solution would be to go to the branch in Maidstone, as I had arranged an orchid meet for ten, and this would only allow us to be be at the site in time.

It was this latter option we went to, and in order to have breakfast "out", we would leave home at just after seven to drive up to Maidstone, wander round and me take some snaps, have a bite to eat, deposit the cash and then drive to Detling.

As Highways England were removing, again, the contraflow for the M20 Brexit lorry park/processing facility, this would mean driving along the A2, then M2 and down past Stockbury to Maidstone.

We had a coffee, packed the car and set off, Radcliffe and Maconie on the radio, and a bright, if not sunny day. Not much to report, really on the drive. We made good time, and cruised down into Maidstone, round the complex one way system to the small car park nearest the bank. I used the phone app to pay for the two hour stay, then after grabbing my camera we set off along to the main town square.

Maidstone centre has a high concentration of bars and night clubs, and despite having urinals set up, the place smelt of stale wee. Not nice, but the town itself looks fabulous, just waking up on a sunny summer morning. We spy a place on the other side of the road and go there for breakfast, having a cheese puff and a falky chicken pie thing, half each and a brew. Not the fry up we were expecting, but OK.

We walk round the main square, its a decade or more since we were here, so I spot more details I had missed last time.

We make it back to the main street, find Lloyds, but then find you have to enter via the rear door, which is on another street, and that took some finding, so that by the time we found it, it was just before nine. I go back round to the front to wait for Jools, and on the way buy a couple of sausage rolls from Greggs. Shouldn't be nice, but are.

Money pad in, we walk back to the car, as the town was beginning to fill up, leaving up the hill back to the motorway and onto Detling, where we find we were half an hour early now. So, we sit in the car, listen to the radio waiting for others to arrive. Just five others were coming, so at five to ten, I walk to the footbridge and find them milling about talking about orchids beside the village hall.

Ahoy, I shout.

And they walked up the steps to join me.

We all walk back to the car where Jools was waiting, then through the wood to the meadow.

Many of the spikes we saw two weeks back were now in flower, although many were dusted with what looks like rust, something I have not seen in orchids before, and whereas last time just one spake had rist, this time many had it, even up the spike to the flowers in some cases.

We find a pure green spike or two, and the usual very dark ones that this spite is very good at producing, and all colours inbetween. The group were very happy with the orchids, even if numbers were very much down on previous years in the meadow, but along the paths there were dozens.

It was half eleven, and I had a date with a train. A train and two locomotives.

Railtours have been hit by COVID too, and I have not stood beside a railway line since a couple of days before Christmas in 2019 when I stood on Walmer station in the gathering gloom of a mid-winter's afternoon waiting to snap a class 47 hauled tour. I only just got the shot that day as the light failed.

I wouldn't have such issues today, I thought.

So, we made our excuses and walked back to the car, as the plan was to get home, have lunch before choosing my viewpoint for the rialtour, which was going to be powered by two class 50s, which never stayed onto Southern metals very often, let alone in pairs.

Traffic by midday was heavy, so we made steady progress back along the motorway to the coast, then off onto the A2 towards Canterbury.

Back home at one, and a quick lunch and a strong brew. I review the shots I had taken, and decide that a bridge near to Martin Mill station where I could snap the tour, then if I was quick, dash to Shepherdswell to snap it again coming out of Lydden tunnel.

What could go wrong?

We have been watching storms via an online storm radar all summer, geeting all excited as storm after storm built over France of the Channel only to fade as it reached the narrowest point of the Channel, which is where we live, of course.

We had barely heard a rumble of thunder.

I didn't check the weather before I left, sure it had clouded over, but didn't look that bad. I crossed the Deal Road, drove up into Martin then along to the brdge, rain which had started falling got heavier.

I thought nothing of it.

A family of four were already there, so I parked on the other side, grabbed two cameras and took up position on the bridge, and then the thunder started. It rolled aorund us, from all directions, and heavy rain began to fall. I went and stood in the shadow of a tree, whilst the family took to their car. The rain hammered down and the thunder got closer.

The father from the family had a live train app on his phone, so kept me updated with progress, as the tour made its way through Sandwich and Deal. We went back to our places on the bridge and waited for the train to appear.

We'll hear it before we see it, he says to his two young sons, who he was getting into serious gricing. I said we would hear the toot on the horn as the train approached the foot crossing at Coldblow.

Indeed, we heard the horn, so got ready. Soon we could hear the rumble of the engines as the locos hauled the rake up Martin Mill Bank out of Walmer. I saw the headlight, then the train emerged and headed round the bend, accelerating as it past below us, and onwards to Martin Mill itself. The driver had seen us, and gave six toots on the horn, we all wave back. Because its the law.

I was soaked, and once back in the car, the inside of the windows all steamed up, but I had just half an hour to get to Shepherdswell, but the train would have to reverse at Priory station, meaning I should have time.

All was going well, back through Martin, down the hill to Martin Mill, past the station and onto the Deal road, then stuck behind a lady driving at 40mph no matter how clear the road was.

I did get past her back on the A2, round the roundabout at Whitfield, then along to the traffic lights at the start of the dual carriageway, down the narrow lanes to Shepherdswell, and finding a parking space outside the station. I grab cameras and race to the footbridge, past half a dozen passengers waiting for a stopping train into Dover.

Others joined me on the bridge, including a nice Polish chap now living in Essex who also had the train app and told us all the train was on it's way.

From the footbridge we could see the headlights refelcted on the rails in the tunnel, and once those lights were seen, cameras at the ready, check settings, as we only had the one chance at this.

The throb of the engines drew close, the nose of the heading loco emerged, and then the train was on and under us. My camera whirred, rattling off dozens of shots.

It headed into the distance, in bright sunlight, but making the stormclouds in the distance, as black as night.

Happy with that, and the other stuff we had done, I walk back to the car and drove back home, via Eythorne, where on the way I was stopped by the level crossing of the light railway, should I get a camera out to snap it, not wth it, I thought.

Wong!

A slamdoor commuter unit pushed by a shunter cut across the road, with the old fashioned gates in the forground, it was a wonderful view, but went unrecorded.

Once the gates opened, I drove on, without incident until a lady driving a Range Rover thought I should give way to her after she turned into facing me. We had a face off, she swore at me after I suggested she could see me coming, and retorted I should have seen her, there was a huge layby just feet behind where she stopped, but she forced my up the bank, and her too. Her husband/partner looked on in silence.

Once home, I peel potatoes for chorizo hash, and then prepare the vegetables and sausage.

Yummy.

We eat at half five, and are all wrapped up by the time Craig Charles comes on the wireless at six for three hours of funk and soul. Jools had put some new fairy lights aorund the shelter, so we sat in the gathering dusk and waited for them to come on.