The plan had been to do some more stork stalking, but the weather, again, had other ideas.
We had worried that we would not be able to sleep much beyond five, but turns out that after a cuple of days of not working, we can sleep to dawn and beyond.
Thursday we woke up and got up a little after half seven, and the rain was coming down, not the high light cloud we were expecting.
We could wait.
We need shopping, not urgently, but I say I’ll go, so armed with a short list, I head to Tesco after the first coffee for supplies. Mostly milk and bread rolls, but some veg and a few other things. I buy another big bag of pasta just in case the Brexit shortages bite in the new year.
I come back, and I cook bacon butties for breakfast, putting the thinly sliced port into fresh seeded rolls. I looked upon my works and saw it was good.
Shall we go to Samphire Hoe for a walk? Jools asked.
If I’m honest, I wasn’t keen, but it would be too easy to sit here all day, listening to the radio, writing and so on. And as the rain had stopped, though the sea fog had rolled in, it should be OK.
We drove down into Dover, along Townwall Street and up the A20 before turning off to the Hoe.
It was very busy, if I was honest, just about most of the spaces in the main car park were full, but we got a space, Jools went to buy a ticket, I got my camera out, put a hat on and did my coat up.
Ready.
We took the path along the edge of the sea wall, not on the sea wall itself, following the well maintained path, so not too muddy, with sheep and cows scattering as we approached. Above us to the right, the cliffs rose and faded into the sea fog, seagulls and raptors called, we walked on.
When the track ended down at the edge of the beach, near to Lydden Spout, Jools walked back via the sea wall and I walked up the slope to amble beside the wailway track and so able to check for Early Spider rosettes, though having found them the week before in St Maggies, I didn’t look too hard. Anyway, the ground had turned to mud thanks to the sheep and cattle, making it difficult to pick out orchid leaves.
A high speed train glided past and I reached the overflow car park, crossed that, walked past several screaming children around the tea bar, and back to the car where Jools was waiting.
Shall we go home?
We shall.
So, up the hill to Capel, then back down the Old Folkestone Road, past the station, through the town then up Castle Hill to the Deal Road and home.
Amazing how many people were driving in thick fog with no lights on at all. I flashed a few, but it seemed to make no difference. But we got home safe.
Back inside we had a brew, then Jools cooked.
Yes indeed.
She said she had a recipe with gnocci, so I bought some that morning, so along with onion, mushrooms, garlic and blue cheese, a fine meal was prepared. I had also make a sourdough loaf, so we didn’t starve. I cracked open a box of wine. We toasted each other, and then ate well.
We watch another edition of the Christmas Lecture from the Royal Society, all about viruses, and we learned lots.
By the time that ended, dusk was falling, and the year was getting very old indeed.
We finish off the first Christmas cake, sharing the last thich slice of crust with a large cuppa.
And so the day drew to a close. There was football to divert my attention, Man Utd v Burnley, which was OK.
I went to bed at ten, with one more day of the year to go.
