Monday 31st October 2022

All Hallow's Eve.

And a Monday, so back to work.

I slept poorly, waking up at regular intervas, and maybe laying the the dark for an hour or more.

I guess I thought I had a cold or flu coming, with a poor night's sleep comes the risk of a migraine, so I knew I probably wouldn't last much beyond lunchtime working.

Jools went back swimming, as her cough is pretty much gone now, so I sat in the dark, listened to a podcast and fired up the leptop at seven, ready for work.

Concentration was had to come by, and by lunchtime I didn't feel that good at all.

And I was getting very cold. My feet certainly, so I logged off from work and went to bed.

Sleep would not come, neither would warmth.

I should have put the heating on, but told myself it was because I hadn't had any lunch.

I got up at four, made a coffee and soon warmed up as the over-sugared brew worked in making me feel better, as did the cold and flu capsules I took.

Whay I ddn't know, or guess, was that I had caught COVID, probably on that last session at the beer festival. I would only get confirmation on Tuesday morning when I took a test.

We shared a pizza, and warmed me up so much I took off my jumper.

But I felt like crap, so after writing a blog I went to bed at half seven, while putside the first autumnal storm raged and threw rain at the back of the house.

I fell into a fitful sleep, but did better, even if I did ache all over.

Sunday 30th October 2022

I bought the moth trap to photograph a number of species. Not only hawkmoths, but an autumn specialityis the Merville du Jour. And seeing this is whay I have utting the trap out more and more, as others in the FB Kent moth group, several have been posted as having been trapped.

With no rain forecast for Saturday night, I put the trap out, so once it was light, and that came an hour earlier thanks to the clocks going back, I went to check on it and see what had been caught, and right away I could see a Merville on the outside of the trap.

I had my camera with me, so was able to take some shots of that and other moths found on the eggboxes inside.

Happy with that.

Jools went swimming, so I prepared fruit for breakfast, and put the croissants in the oven ready to warm up.

Meanwhile, rain which had not been forecasted, began to fall.

Oh well.

The plan for the day was going to the Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway for their end of season gala, I wrote times down at at St Mary's Bay, and we drove to Hythe, I let Jools out so she could walk down the prom, she would get quite wet.

I needed to get to the station by quarter past ten, and was frustrated by traffic lights and slow cars. But I was there with four minutes to spare, and after getting the camera out and fitted the big lens, I went to take up position, just in time for the crossing lights began to start flashing.

For a while I was the only one there, but soon a young lad was videoing the crossing, and came to shelter on the station with his parents.

I stayed until half eleven, with no sign of the weather improving, I left, needless to say, by the time i got home skies had cleared and there was wall to wall sunshine.

So it goes.

I picked up Jools from Hythe, and we went home.

As we approached Dover we were overtaken by a police car, and at the BP garage, about a dozen more were there along with ambulences, and a fire engine roared towards the Western Docks.

A guy had firebomed the immigration centre beside Dover Marine, then drove to the filling station, tied a rope to a barrier, round his neck and drove off.

He didn't make it.

This is what happened when the media demonise the most desperate of people, blaming them for the ills in the country, when it is the grifters in Government who have been selling England off by the pound to their mates.

We didn't know then what happened, but found out later when the story broke on the BBC.

So sad.

Back home, I make chorizo hash for lunch, and that was all cooked and eaten and dishes washed up by half two, all ready for the only live game on Sky at quarter past four. Man Utd beat West Ham 1-0, not a bad game, but not that good.

And that was it.

Darkness fell at half four, and was pitch dark by five.

Winter is here.

The week in Tory chaos

Welcome to Perfectly Normal Island where it was revealled last week that:

The Home Secretary ignored lagal advice on the processing and housing of immigrants thus allowing them to get scurvy and diptheria.

This is the same Home Secretary who resigned a week previously after multiple breaches of security were discovered. The new PM has re-employed her in the same role, so she resigned for six days before returning to Government in the same role.

In order to divert attention, it was revealed that the previous PM, Liz Truss, had her private mobile hacked, on which and against security laws, was conducting Government business on. A year's worth of messages and data was downloaded by a foireign power almost certainly Russia.

The previous PM, Johnson, has been using the same provate number for 15 years and this has been available on the internet for at least a decade.

Meanwhile, a man threw three fire bombs at the immigration centre in Dover before killing himself. Jools and I were caught up in this on the way back from Hythe yesterday. Looking at the front pages of the Express, Mail and now Torygraph, it is easy to see how people get radicalised against those who have so little, while the grifters in Parliament get away with asset stripping the country.

Sunak said that the grown ups had taken over, but I have yet to see proof of this.

Braverman is expected not to last week, but she resigned once, whose to say she won't be back a week or month later?

Meanwhile, the economy continues to tank, while no one talks about Brexit and it's effects, although clear data show productivity, imports, exports, inward and outside investiment have all dived since June 2016. This only effects the UK, what could have happened to just the UK that year and nowhere else?

Fuck if I know.

Saturday 29th October 2022

Last day of (Bristish) Summer Time, and time to go home.

I had my pick of trains to go back on, but the truth is, as nice as it is being away, eating in fancy pants places and taking photographs, its better to be home.

And I wanted to go home.

Which is whay I set my alarm for six.

But I was awake an hour earlier, so I get up, get dressed and pack, checking the room time to make sure I had forgotten nothing. For once.

Down to reception, where I am told check out is all automatic, so nothing to settle.

Can you call me a taxi, please?

They do.

I will wait outside I say.

IIt was just before six, still dark, but it was mild. Very mild. I mean mild enough to wear just a t shirt. It is mad, and must be global warming, how else can you explain temperatures of 21 degress at the end of October?

The taxi arrived. I load my bags. I chose to go by taxi as there had been drunks and those heading home from clubs shouting and screaming on the street outside my window, pretty much all night. And Prince of Wales Road, the road to the station, is where a lot of the clubs and bars are. As it was, at the bottom, a man dressed in a poor Father Christmas costume was being sick whilst consoling a friend laying next to him.

Inside the station, I look for a place to get a coffee from, and see just about everywhere is closed, or not yet open. The Co-Op is, I am told, and they have a coffee machine. I go inside, get a large americano and two Yorkie bars, then walk to the barrier to get on the train. I had 40 minutes before departure, but on the train I could settle down, read and relax while I drank the coffee.

A few other people got on, but the carriage was still ostly empty by the time the train pulled out, while outside it was still dark. In fact it was pretty much dark all the way to Ipswich, only light coming through the towns and villages the line passed through or near.

At Ipswich, a party of five Ipswich fans joined me, and we had some banter about our two teams, all good humoured and nothing nasty. Good to think such things are mostly of the past. They were on their way to Charlton, where a win could put them top of the league. They asked me why Norwich fans are so angry, which was a very good question. One I couldn't really answer.

Out of Colchester the train was three quarters full, but it was daylight so I could stare at the lineside and countryside as we zoomed sout into London.

I get off at Stratford, I knew I had 50 minutes before a direct train to Dover, so I set about looking for coffee. I found a place just inside Westfield, and the server suggested I have what I though she said was a slice of pistachio and raspberry cake. But when it came it was one heck of a bun.

Sticky, but nice.

I eat that and wash it down with coffee, twenty minutes had passed so I walked to the barriers and went down onto the platform.

Trains to Ramsgate via Canterbury and one to Margate via the Medway towns left before mine pulled, in, a 12 car set meaning there would be hundreds of empty seats.

Not much else to tall, just the usual trip under east London, across the Eassex marshed, under the Thames and into Kent, the train emptying at each stop.

Jools was waiting at Dover, I load my bags and we go home.

It was 11 o'clock.

Over half the day to look forward to, but I was pooped and happy to be home.

I unpack, put dirty washing in the machine, have a shower, make brews and lunch.

All is well with the world.

And then there is football.

I listen to Radio 5 and follow Norwich on Twitter, and we run out 3-1 winners over Stoke, while Ipswich scored two late goals to lead Charlton 4-2.

I went to make a brew.

And by the time the kettle had boiled, I heard the radio say that Charlton had equalised to make it 4-4, with half the goals coming after the 90th minute.

I thought of the Town fans I had seen earlier in the day and wondered what they thought of it.

All part of the game, I guess.

And two games in the evening: a dour 0-0 draw between Leeds and Everton, then Liverpoon losing in a match of brainless counterattacking football, 2-1.

Phew.

Friday 28th October 2022

Last day in the fine City, and somewhat surprisingly, I slept in until ten past eight. I mean, that's very nearly dinner time when at home.

So, just enough time for a shower and check on the interwebs before going down to breakfast, where I order a "full English", as I would be drinking pretty soon after.

Well, before noon anyway.

Breakfast was good, but the coffee better.

So, off into the city, and a wander back through Tombland, and my intention had been to wander round the market, but I saw a queue had already formed for the beer festival, it would mean 70 minutes standing, but I had nowhere else to go.

The Norwich beer festival takes place in the St Andrews and Blackfriars Halls, and it is popular. Entry is via a porch, and those with tickets, members and general admissions are all mixed in. And as the festival nears its end, gets ever more popular, so there is a queue.

A large queue.

I talk to a couple of chaps beside me, and the time goes quickly, and by the time the doors do open at half eleven, the end of the queue is back over the river and out of sight.

I go in, get a glass and beer tokens, and find a place to sit.

I was here because there was to be a RAF reunion, of those who served in my trade, at RAF Coltishall. I served there five years, surely I would loads of old friends and comrades?

As time went on, I found the group, but no one looked familiar.

I spoke to one guy, I said might remember me, but that was it.

As time went on I got more and more despondent. The beer helped.

Three pints of porter, and that was enough, at two I left and weaved my way back along the cobbled streets to the hotel, stopping off for crisps and pop at a store on the way, and going back to my room to write a blog post and listen to the radio.

The afternoon faded into evening, I did the music quiz, came 8th.

And then went out to take some final night time shots of the city and find a place to eat.

But my back was grumbling, and I made it to City Hall, snapped it and St Peter Mancroft before turning back.

I tried a few places to see if they had a table, none did.

So, the final chance was the hotel, where at seven fifteen I was the first customer in the large restaurant.

An Indian couple who had married that day came in and sat nearby, and he told her he had written a song about her, how he changed the words, then he sang to her.

I had a burger and a pint, which was all I fancied.

Then back up to my room for some arsing about before bed at ten.

Thursday 27th October 2022

Pay day.

Which is good.

So: Dateline Norwich, Norfolk.

I wake at half six, with buses and trucks heading into the city just outside the bedroom window, whatever, I slept well, so messed around online for an hour, had a shower and then went down for breakfast. Dressing first, of course.

I chose the "continental breakfast", of fruit and toast, and two pots of coffee which set me for the day.

I had a number of plans: first was to go to Cantley and the Limpenoe for some churchcrawling, but with the swing bridges at Reedham and Somerleyton closes for maintenance, that meant rail replacememnt buses. THe other choice was to go to Cromer to the church there, have lunch of chips beside the seaside, beside the sea.

But first, a a walk to St Stephen's on Theatre Street, as I had not been there before, and was oepn, apparently.

Despite being the end of October, it was warm and humid, and would exceed 20 degrees in the afternoon. But was cloudy, and there was a chance of rain.

More than a chance as it turned out.

So, after breakfast I set out through Tombland, past The Halls where the beer festival was being held, and fresh supplies were being delivered.

Through the market, up the steps and across from The Forum to Theatre Street where the doors of the church had just been opened. What greeted me was a fine large East Anglian church, but instead of pews or rows of chairs, was tables and chairs all set out to be a cafe.

All churches do their best, I know, but St Stepehens is now a calling point on the etrance to the once new shopping centre, the windows offer a large and bright space, but not very churchy.

I made the mistake of asking a volunteer when it stopped being a church: it's still a church, anf the tables can be quickl replaced with rows of chairs, it seems.

I go round and get shots, but avoiding, as warned, not to get people in my shots. Its a big church, so I managed that pretty well.

Ten minutes later, St Peter Mancroft opened I wanted to snap the east windows as best I could, so with my compact I did my best. A guy sat behind me and tutted loudly as I took shots and when I asked a warden if I could take a shot of a memoral in the chancel. He had the whole church to sit in, but shose to sit behind me, already taking shots, apparently just so he could complain.

So fuck you.

I got my shots, and left, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

Outside rain had began to fall. Falling hard enough not to be pleasant. My plan had been to walk tot he station, but wasn't going to walk in this weather. So, I walked through the market, lingering as rain fell harder, then corssing to Royal Arcade before emerging onto Back of the Inns, and walking into Castle Mall, taking a series of escalators to the top, all the while hoping that by the time I reached the top, rain would have stopped.

It hadn't.

But I did snap the decorative paving marking the source of an ancient spring, then headed down Timber Hill to the Murderers, where I went in and had a pint. And eneded up staying for another and a lunch of nachos.

Last stop was St John Maddermarket, where I retook many shots, but had a long and interesting conversation with the warden about the church and the font found at St John in Folkestone.

I went back to the hotel, lay on the bed for a snooze edit some shots and post them with a description which became the backbone for the previous blog post.

For the evening, I had been invited for dinner at my good friend's, Sarah's.

So at five, I walk up through the City to Pottergate, then along, through the underpass and estate beyond, arriving at her door at just gone six.

Darkness was falling, the street was ankle deep in golden leaves, quite the most fabulous place, really.

We have a drink, chat abut churches, butterflies, orchids and Norwich City, after which we eat: a kind of duck stew, which was hearty and very good. Alnong with that, we su from the bottle of fruity red I had bought on the way to her house.

The evening slipped by, and after walking 15,000 steps, I got a taxi back to the hotel, along fairly deserted roads, dropping me at the door of the hotel, where just insode a wedding repception was nearing its end, back in my room, I put in ear plugs and slept long and deep.

Wednesday 26th October 2022

It is school holiday week, and also beer festival week in Norwich. It had been a while since I last went, not because of COVID either, I think its been five years.

As its school holidays, all of the Premier Inns and Travelodges are as expensive as a room in a decent hotel, especially for the solo traveller, so I booked into the Maids Head.

There's posh.

Anyway, so Jools left for work at seven, giving me at least two hours to get ready and pack, but the internet diverts, and the stuff I wanted to do got forgotten. But I had a shower, shave, and packed. And called for a taxi so I could catch the ten to eleven train.

Only taxi I could get was from the village, and it'll have to be right now, at ten, as I have a booking right after.

Fair enough,

So, chatty bloke in his cab was waiting outside, I lugged the small case and camera bag out, and his words powered the car down to the Deal road and into town, going down Jubilee Way and up to the station.

I already had my ticket, so had 40 minutes, time for a coffee and a bun. Or muffin as they're called now, apparently.

There was already a lot of passengers waiting for the train at Dover, so waiting for the second one out of peak service in the hope it would be less used had failed.

But I got a seat, facing backwards though, and off we went.

It was pretty full by the time we left Folkestone Central, standing room only after Ashford and they didn't let people into our carriage at Ebbsfleet.

I was glad to get off at Stratford and make my way through the cathedral to commerce, Westfield. Put your phone away once you've stopped using it, announcement said, as its private property they are strict about snappers. I've been stopped twice here myself.

I walk on.

I had a half hour wait for a train north, so snapped trains coming through the station, including a freight hauled by two snazzy class 90s.

The rear of the Norwich train was rammed, but the front empty. So I settled at a table in the front coach and watched as London slipped by.

Glorious light turned the countryside into an autumnal spectacle, I tried to get shots, but failed.

We pass through Chelmsford, Colchester, where the refreshment trolley came round (less than £6 for sandwich, bag of crisps and a drink) then to Manningtree, Ipswich and into Suffolk, through Stowmarket into Norfolk and Diss.

Dis is Diss said the announcement.

One last shot run into Norwich, over the river and into Thorpe. It almost feels like coming home.

I walked along the river to Bishop's Bridge, then to the Cathedral Close, through the Erpingham Gate and there is the hotel.

My room is a three hour hike, so it seemed, along narrow corridors and passageways, up stairs, down stairs and back up.

My room overlooks Ss. Simon and Jude on Wensum Street.

I take my camera and go out, down to Elm Hill, all cobbles, timber framed houses and golden fallen leaves, then back round through Tombland to the river and The Ribs of Beef where I was to meet a friend.

Dawid arrived, and so we have a drink. What about dinner, he asks?

Well, I wasn't hungry, but I knew of a Japanese place up the road where we could possibly get in.

We do, so feast on panko and Japanese katsu curry.

Dawid has to leave as the poor chap has work, but I have the evening, so I make my way to The Hall for the beer festival.

No queue to get in or a glass, so let's get drinking!

I only had two drinks, but the second was La Choufe at 8%, so that was quite enough.

I walked back, tipsy, snappy as I went, Elm Hill looked spectacular as always, but this late at night, no parked cars.