We could not have picked a more interesting fortnight to
retire to the depth of the country with the family, for a quiet rest and chill
out away from city strife. The chilling out bit was OK, since after a period of
sunny warm weather for the preceding two weeks, the temperatures plunged and
the rain started in earnest.
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Day one |
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Day two |
We seem to have picked a record breaking fortnight when as
much as a month’s rain fell in a few hours in many parts of the country, whilst
each day weather warnings were broadcast on the radio and TV.
During this time, floods have been occurring around
the country, washing out holidays and creating misery and heart breaking damage
to people’s homes and property.
You are probably familiar with the song ‘Drip drip drip
little April showers’. I have some new
lyrics to that tune and which start; ‘Pour pour pour rotten June monsoon’.
I was lucky to get those shots of the TV, since clouds seem to block signals and a lot of the time the TV looked like this.
The Son (TS) and family, arrived from the USA to join us,
coming from temperatures in the 30s to England’s ‘summer’ weather which barely
crept above two figures.
On a more cheerful note, a nice touch from the people who ran the holiday site we
were staying in was that they had welcomed us by leaving some cakes for us on
the dining tables in each cottage. The
cottages were not actual cottages but a purpose built place divided into separate
units. TBH and I had the two bed apartment
whilst the rest of the family had the six bed apartment next door. We got two cakes and some teacakes, whilst
the family got a Victoria Sponge.
We all had packed light summer clothes for spending time in
the sun, but unless we had managed to climb to 20,000 feet, the sun was never
apparent other than the change from night to day. Being British (and almost British) and so
experienced in the ways of British summertime, we had made sure we had some
warmer clothes but being somewhat over optimistic, we had not packed enough to
see us through the whole fortnight. The
two cottages we had hired were equipped with washing machines so this was only
an inconvenience but drying the clothes was a little difficult since exposing
them to the washing line only gave them a second wash, so the bannisters of the
two cottages were draped with drying clothes for most of the holiday.
As well as this refreshing weather, there was the Jubilee
and some footy, so wherever we went, flags and bunting were hanging from
flagpoles, lines and draped over anything suitable, including the wing mirrors
of cars.
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Dover Castle |
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It did not rain all of the time and we were able to go out
to visit some of the local area, starting with Dover Castle. When we got there we firstly thought that
the place had been occupied by the Nazis and almost turned around, but
discovered that it was a World War II pageant going on and they were only
pretending to be Nazis (or so they told us in heavily accented English, whilst
placing a finger along side their nose in a conspiratorial manner).
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Natzi soldiers |
The last time I visited Dover Castle was to attend the
wedding of one of my first wife’s cousins.
He was serving in the Army at the time and was entitled to a full
military wedding in the church in the Castle grounds. It was quite an affair, with his regiment all
in dress uniform forming an arch over the couple with drawn sword as they
emerged from the church. Apart from that
I remember little of the visit since that was over thirty years ago.
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The church within the castle grounds |
This time the castle was filled with ‘events’ and people
dressed in 1940s clothes and uniforms making the grounds seem crowded.
Some of the enactors were so deep into their
roles, they were a trifle rude to our American visitors declaring that they
were a bit late joining in the conflict.
My view was that they were themselves a bit late with their opinions,
since the conflict had been over and done with more than a few years ago.
The Grandson (TGS) was delighted with the events, since he is
studying the World Wars at school in history and because of this our next
planned visit was to The Imperial War Museum in Lambeth.
Lambeth is a district in South London and may
have been heard of because of the song ‘Doing the Lambeth Walk’ from the
musical Me and My Girl.
The museum is also close to the Elephant and Castle, another London
district, popularly known as the Elephant’s a***hole by the indigenous
population, who seem to like rhyming things.
We travelled into London by train, starting
at Faversham, the nearest town to our holiday cottages. This line passes through the Medway towns of
Gillingham and Rochester and from high up on the railway embankment, as we
passed through Rochester we could see the cathedral and castle there and
decided another trip would be necessary to explore this Kentish town on another
day.
We arrived at Victoria station and travelled
by Tube to Lambeth North, the nearest underground station to the IWM.
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The Imperial War Museum London |
The Imperial War Museum was explored from top
to bottom and we saw enough hardware to fight both WWI and WWII again, or so it
seemed. One interesting feature of the
IWM is the gallery of medals featuring nearly everyone who had ever received a
Victoria Cross. This medal is only ever
given for extreme bravery in conflict, so there is only a relatively small
elite band of people who have received this prestigious medal.
Tired from a day of slowly moving past the
displays, something much more tiring than walking at a normal pace, we started
for the return journey but took a slight deviation.
The Daughter (TD) had taken her degree at
London Southbank University and had stayed in the Elephant’s… er the Elephant and Castle (E&C) area and
wanted to have a look at her old stomping grounds, so instead of going back to
Lambeth tube station, we walked a similar distance down to the E&C station
and caught the Tube there, going on to the Embankment. Here we did the tourist bit and had a look at
the Houses of parliament did the usual photo shoot with Big Ben in the
background and took a short walk across Westminster bridge. We then returned to Victoria station where we
caught the next mainline train back to Faversham.
The train service had had problems and the
train was a number of coaches short for some reason known only to the South
Eastern train service and so was very crowded.
We were unable to find any seats and so we
settled on standing together in the open space between the doors and the
children sat down on the floor.
The square space between the doors was already
partly occupied by a lady who was sitting on the floor with her large Afghan
hound, taking up much of the floor between them. I was able to prop myself up against the end
of the seats and by gentle positioning of my feet around a mass of long Afghan
hair, managed to get into a stable position without treading on the dog. The dog immediately moved position and rested
her chin on my foot. The children were
entranced by this and spent some time petting the dog and talking to the owner
and getting in the way of other seatless passengers trying to find mythical seats
further down the train.
The adults of our party all stood until a
single seat became empty and The Daughter In Law (TDIL), who suffers from a
form of arthritis, sat down gratefully. Having spent most of the day on my feet, I
was not too delighted to have to stand in a moving train for the next hour or
so, unable to move my feet much in case I stood on the dog, but by the fourth
stop, another seat was emptied and I was able to sit down too.
On Sunday we stayed at the cottages whilst the Jubilee got into full
swing. I have never seen so many union flags since the battle of
Waterloo. (OK I am not quite that old, but there were a lot of flags.)
And for the next few days the TV became wall to wall Jubilee and everywhere
people were celebrating with street parties, causing streets to be lined with
bunting and flags.
We managed to miss a lot of this hiding in our cottages until Monday.
On Monday, being close to London we all went off for a trip to Diagon
Alley.
More about that in my next.
A quiz
Thinking about the E&C, that sort of rhyming
slang is usually much more obscure, so I will end this part with a simple quiz. What is this geezer talking about?
‘Me an’
the Trouble took the two saucepans to the forty-two and me plates was aching so
bad when we got ‘ome, I could ‘ardly get up the apples and what’s more, when it
was time to go to uncle the Trouble sat on ‘er arris, rabbiting on about it so’s I couldn’t get to bo peep.’
Most slang words are just the first part
of the rhyming phrase, as in ‘doing bird’ was doing 'time' in jail.
Bird lime, time.