Saturday 29th January 2022

Some three months ago, Jools and I went up to London to visit Westminster Abbey, where I took a lots of shots, but got "curched out". Two weeks ago we were to meet a friend, Graham when we went to the Tate, then he tested positive for COVID the morning of the trip, so couldn't go.

I promsed him we would return soon, to London.

Sooner than I thought, as it turned out. As Jools had a class in Deal on Saturday afternoon, so I could go up to London on the train, go tot he Abbey, take another load of shots, meet Graham and then we could go to the pub.

Brilliant.

Even better when Graham said he could make it, so the plan was made; meet outside the Abbey at ten. Take shots. Walk to pub. Drink beer. Come home.

Simple plan with clear goals.

Jools did shopping on Friday afternoon so all we had to do was get up and be at the station for ten to eight.

We got up, had a coffee, fed the cats and so on. I dodged breakfast planning on getting something out.

Jools dropped me off at half seven, just before sunrise. Frosty but clear, so I went onto the platform to take some shots before mine was due at ten to.

Not many people about, most waiting to go to Ramsgate, or stations between there and Dover, I snapped their train come in, pause to pick them up, then wait for the road to be clear.

The train doesn't really fill up that much, I guess about 50%, for a train getting into London at about nine on a Saturday, should be packed. Still early days, I guess.

Anyway, it was light so I could look out of the large windows, andmark our progress through Folkestone, Ashford to Ebbsfleet then under the river into Essex. Away on the left, Canary Wharf stand bathed in warm sunlight, still 15 miles away, like some 21st century version of Mordor.

I leave the train at Stratford, and instead of walking through Westfield, I take the DLR to Stratford. Or would have done only to see on pull out of the station as I come down the escalator, leaving me with ten minutes to wait. No matter, I have time.

I get out at Stratford and cross to the Jubilee Line, where in the train, most are wearing masks, and people keeping their distances.

A half hour run across the East End to London Bridge, Waterloo and into Westminster, where I get out and go to street level, taking off my mask once safely outside and breath in the fresh air.

I walk round Parliament Square, past the Houses of Parliament with Big Ben (I know not its real name) now partially revealed having had its scaffolding removed, the repainted face and new guilding glistened in the sunlight, though the west face was ten minutes behind the north one.

As I walked towards the entrance to the Abbey, I saw my friend, Graham on the other side fo the road waiting to cross, I hail him and once he's safely over we shake hands.

After taking some exterior shots, we go in and spit up, as its his first time and my second.

I have a list of targets, mainly redoing Henry VII's Lady Chapel as I only did that with the wide angle last time, then going around with the big lens for details of the windows and tombs.

After an hours and a half, we were both done. On the way out I point out some other details, including the Chapter House and pass what we see i s labelled "the oldest door in Brit dating to AD1060!

What shall we do?

Walk along the river to the Black Friar.

Good idea.

Though we stop for a coffee at the van outside, and was really good coffee indeed.

We walk to the river, cross road to reach the path beside the river and start the half hour walk along the fiver, under Charing Cross to Blackfriars. Dodging runners and walkers on a sponsored able beside the river until we saw the pub beside the station.

We cross over and find a small table inside, free for two hours, which is more than enough time for a pie and a few pints.

Steak and ale pie, served with creamy mash and fresh vegetables and gravy. And three pints of dark ale.

With my stiff legs and woolly head I could just find my way to Blackfriars station next door, saying goodbye to Graham as he went down to catch a Circle Line train, and I went up to the main line station for a Thameslink train to St Pancras, which rattled along for ten minutes, giving me twenty minutes to get up to the platforms, where I find the Dover train had just arrived.

I pour myself into a seat, text Jools that I would be back in Dover at quarter to four. She calls back to confirm she would be waiting for me when I arrived.

Perfect.

And she was, she drove us home, where she had made salsa for nachos, I just had to grate some cheese and sprinkle that on the tortilla chips before baking for eight minutes.

Phew.

We eat at half six, by which time it was dark of course, and with no Prewier League games, I was "entertained" by some Football League.

And so that was a very fine day indeed. Head still spinning.