Sunday 26th February 2023

Part 2 of the weekend, and what should we do?

Well, lay in bed until seven. But that brings its own problems, as it now starts to get light at about half six, and it seems daylight before seven, but you brain tells you it must be much, much later than that.

The plan, after coffee, fruit, bacon butties and another brew, was to go back to Sandwich and walk the old town walls, or where they were.

We left at ten, driving into Walmer and Deal before heading north again past Worth and into Sandwich.

We parked at the quayside again, put on our winter woolies.

Sandwich used to be an important port, and so had defences intended the repel attacks. Hundreds of years ago, the coast of Kent was very different, with the coast much nearer to the town than it is now. You can Google "ancient Kent coastline" to see how the county would have been very different, with Thanet still being an actual island.

I noticed the walls, or where they used to be on Saturday, so we returned to the town on Sunday, dodging showers and the keen north easterly wind for an hour's amble.

Most of the town gates are lost, only one, Fisher Gate, still stands, and that faces the river near the Barbican and bridge over the Stour.

Past Nightrider Street and past the playground, the path then turns and climbs a grassy embankment, where the walls used to stand. I think for most of it's length, the bank was topped by wooden palisades, long since removed of course, but the bank still exists to the south of the town, while further along the walls would have followed a water-filled ditch and then back to the north of the town and back to the river.

The other side of New Street, Mill Wall changes its name to The Ropewalk, as once the palisades where removed, the long flat area was used for rope making.

We passed mainly just dog walkers, but a few families too. Before turning towards the river, the walls run parallel with the railway, though, sadly, no trains seen.

Once heading back for town, hail began to fall, egged on by the north-easterly, causing us to pull down our woolly hats and button our coats up tighter.

We reached the Richborough road, turned towards the town centre. Did we want a brew?

We did. But that would mean spending money, and we have two holidays to pay for in the next two months, and so need every penny we can save, so walked along Strand Street, back past the Barbican to the car.

I took us home the quick way, via the Eastry by-pass to Whitfield and home.

Then we could have a brew, but nothing to eat as soon it would be lunch/dinner.

I had called in the butcher to get steak, sirloin on the bone, so one of those each, garlic mushrooms and fried potatoes.

I would cook them between the Prem game and the League Cup final at half four.

Spurs beat a very poor Chelsea 2-0.

Then I cooked. The potatoes had been boiled, so just needed to warm up the griddle, warm the fryer and cook the 'shrooms.

All done in 20 minutes, and soon we sat down to eat a fine meal, quite large so we didn't eat for the rest of the day.

And then the football, and the Toon extended they 59 year wait for a trophy, Man Utd easing to a 2-0 win.

By that time it was quarter to seven, so we had a brew and some dark chocolate ginger cookies, and listened to the radio as the weekend seeped away.