19th April 2015

So far this month, we have had quite pleasant weather, warm sunny days (mostly) and cool (sometimes chilly) nights. As the days are getting significantly longer and the soil is beginning to warm up, I and my fellow allotment holders have started to get a little excited and have begun to visit our little plots and start the necessary preparations for a future bounteous harvest. Determined to resist the temptations of previous years and not be the first to be fully planted up, this time I have taken things easy and watched the activity of my fellow agrarians and only put trowel to soil when they have. As the title suggests, my spuds are in: Desiree, Arran Pilot and Maris Peer, six rows in all. Not as many as last year, but hey, I expect great things from them! The onions (sets) are also in neat, pretty rows: Sturon, Turbo, Silver Moon and Red Baron, and already peeping through. One full row of parsnips and two of next winter’s leeks for transplanting are all sown, and I mustn’t forget a short line of peas that is due to pop up this week.

Yesterday, I dug up some leeks for distribution among friends and fellow allotment holders. Leeks and onions were a great success last year, and despite giving as many as possible away throughout the winter, I still have a garage roof full of eye-watering alliums and around a hundred of the less pungent, leafier genus.

I have made a start in the greenhouse. The grow bags have been bought and stacked, ready to take the usual tomatoes and cucumbers, which have already been transplanted into their pots. This year I am trying a variety of cucumbers that grow only to the size of a large grape and have a distinct lemony flavour, hmmm.

On a brighter note, the Sweet Williams I grew from seed two years ago are doing well in their containers, and it is with great anticipation and excitement that I look forward to sniffing their bouquet and reminiscing on sunny Sundays when I sold them from a wheelbarrow in Laughton-en-le-Morthen a few decades ago. Their colourful and tightly bunched flower heads with wonderful scents will always remain my favourite flowers.

Sue’s wrist is still causing concern. She is having weekly physiotherapy, and twice this month we have made the trek to the Leicester General to see the specialist. Improvement has been slow, and she still can’t cycle, drive (but that always has been debatable), open cans or cut bread. I still accompany her to the supermarket, though I am no longer allowed to steer the trolley.

On the 4th of April, Sue and I joined Jim and Bridget at Joules and were entertained by an excellent folk/blues band with a superb Sandy Denny-like singer.

The following day, being Easter Sunday, the whole (now extended) tribe came for lunch. Sarah’s puppy, Mia, was introduced to all and, not surprisingly, was the cause of great excitement with Ellis and Lucas. Both species enjoyed chasing each other around the furniture for most of the afternoon.

On the 8th of April, Sue and I drove to Folkestone for a little break. We’d been planning to nip over to France for the day, but as the week progressed, we realised we’d need our passports to board the ferry. Now, hang on a minute, aren’t we still part of the EU? Wasn’t the whole point of open borders that we wouldn’t need passports? Or is it just the rest of the world that can waltz in and out of this country freely, while its long-standing, legitimate residents get the short straw again? A protest vote seems imminent, I think. Presently, our passports are with the Vietnamese Embassy in London, being expensively stamped with an entry visa for our trip to Vietnam and Cambodia in May; at least we’ve got that to look forward to.

The drive there was quick and uneventful, though I did choose the slightly longer route through the Blackwall Tunnel in London to avoid toll charges (always the penny pincher!). We stopped in Hythe for a picnic and a stroll along the Thames shoreline, before continuing to Folkestone and the Grand Burstin Hotel, conveniently located by the Harbour. Coincidentally, I received an email from David today, who was currently on his way home to Bulgaria and, as luck would have it, they had stayed at the same hotel. It seems they must have been given the same room as us, as David mentioned that the carpet had a rather musty smell. Upon further investigation, I traced the culprit to a section near the window, which had clearly been soaked and was still damp. Our remedy was to spritz the offending patch with deodorant and cover it with a plastic sheet from one of the spare pillows. The sea view was lovely, so I wasn’t keen on changing rooms. Problem solved, sort of!

During the afternoon, we took a wander around the old town and found the cobbled streets near the church quite charming. We popped into the Golden Lion for a drink. Apparently, Charles Dickens used to frequent the place while writing ‘David Copperfield’, and they’ve preserved a small room as it was in his day. You could even hire it and enjoy an authentic Dickensian meal, though we just opted for a drink rather than the full Victorian experience.

For dinner, we dined in the hotel before heading back into town to watch the film ‘Chappie’ at the Silver Screen Cinema. On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by a local Ale House for a sample of the local brews, before returning to our slightly fragrant room. Ah, the joys of hotel life.

The next morning, after breakfast, I powered up the GPS, and we made our way purposefully down to the beach. The plan was to walk from Folkestone to Dover along the white cliffs, a lovely sunny morning, perfect for a jaunt. We strolled along the base of the cliffs, mostly on a deserted concrete walkway. After a couple of miles, we passed a few other walkers, who, a little further on, took a different path that led up the cliffs to the one I had plotted. We carried on, following the path we’d picked out to ascend the chalky heights.

The path bent close to a part of the cliff face that looked heavily eroded, so Sue decided to sit and take a breather while I ventured further up to check if the track was stable. Our route led over a little hump and then skirted the roof of a railway track before plunging into the cliff face. I stopped for a moment to watch an engine and its carriages rush by before I scrambled up the steep incline. On reaching the top, I paused for a moment and then thought, “Well, I’ve had to use both hands to get up here. Sue’s definitely not going to manage this with her dodgy wrist.”

Returning to Sue, I informed her that she wouldn’t be able to climb the cliff and that we’d have to turn back to where the other walkers had veered off to start their ascent. She didn’t seem too disappointed, perhaps relieved, and we retraced our steps.

A short while later, we were crossing the railway track via a narrow bridge and climbing up the cliff through thick bushes. Fortunately, someone had done a decent job of trimming them back, creating a kind of meandering tunnel that led us all the way to the top, where the views were nothing short of spectacular. The unfolding vista was a real treat.

We came across the same walkers we’d seen earlier, and it wasn’t long before we left them trailing in our wake. As we neared Dover, we were struck by the huge rotating fans far below that helped aerate the Channel Tunnel on the shoreside, and the steady procession of lorries thundering down the dual carriageway on their way to the ferry terminal on the landward side. It was a strange juxtaposition of nature’s beauty and the relentless hum of human industry, but somehow, it all added to the charm of the journey.

As we reached the outskirts of Dover, we passed by the Immigration Detention Centre before making our way towards the railway station. On a whim, we decided to divert slightly into the town and stumbled upon an excellent Beer House with a very welcoming landlord. We stayed for a while, enjoying a refreshing pint and some light bites, a salad and sandwiches, from a shop across the road that the landlord kindly pointed us to.

Afterwards, we took a leisurely stroll down the road and found the Roman Painted House. From the outside, it wasn’t exactly a sight to behold; in fact, it looked rather uninviting, much like the car park it had been discovered beneath. But once we ventured inside, what a surprise! It was absolutely fascinating, well worth the visit. Some of the rooms still had their mosaics and wall paintings intact, offering a real glimpse into the past. A hidden gem, to say the least!

Afterwards, we wandered further into town before heading to the station to buy our ticket back to Folkestone. A short and uneventful train ride later, we found ourselves back at the start, relaxing in our room. It had been a lovely day, but it was nice to kick back and enjoy a well-earned rest.

After our evening meal at the hotel, Sue gave Bingo a go in the bar but, unfortunately, didn’t win. We stayed to watch the evening’s entertainment, which featured a lively mix of singers and dancers with an ’80s theme. Late in the evening, we took a stroll around the harbour, before, with heavy eyes, we climbed the stairs to the ‘Land of Nod’ for a well-deserved rest.

The next morning, we checked out after breakfast and made a quick stop in town for Sue to pick up a few gifts. Then, I made a detour via the harbour to buy some fresh seafood for dinner that evening, back home.

The return journey, however, was a different story. I opted for the toll Dartford Crossing, convinced that, on a Friday, it would be quicker. Surely, paying for the service would have some benefit, right? Well, five and a half hours later, we finally arrived home after a frustrating queue to cross the Thames (why have a barrier and traffic lights when you have registration plate identification cameras to bill you?) and frustratingly, we suffered in another queue to join the M11 (and why do they shut down a whole lane when a lorry breaks down on the hard shoulder?). Strong coffee was very much appreciated once we finally got home!

On the 14th, I took Sue to the General Hospital in Leicester, and afterwards, we took the opportunity to visit Mia and Sarah. We had fish and chips for lunch from the local chippy, and then Sarah and I got busy putting up some wallpaper in the kitchen while Sue entertained Mia. The next day, Sue had physiotherapy at Harborough Hospital, so I headed back to Leicester. This time, to shorten the curtain rails that I’d neglected to do two weeks earlier. With Sarah leaving for work, I wired power into the cupboard under the stairs and put in a false floor so that it was level with the corridor. I then painted the walls of the cupboard and, finally, put the freezer in its new home and switched it on.

Mia had been snoozing soundly in her cage through all the activity, so I carefully lifted her into the car for the journey back to Harborough. With the soothing sounds of Pink Floyd’s ‘The Endless River’ playing on repeat, she howled in appreciation most of the way to Willow Bank.

At home, I had a fun time teaching Mia how to play footy in the back garden, followed by getting her to jump through the spray of the watering can while I tried to water my pot plants. Lee arrived from work just after 5 pm to collect her, and we regretfully said our goodbyes.

On Thursday, Sue and I went to the cinema to watch ‘Foxcatcher’, a true story that turned out to be a decidedly strange film. It was just about worth it, though, mostly for the surprise ending.

The following evening, we hosted a family Curry Night, although we opted for pulled pork and beef with salad since it was a particularly warm day. Mia, of course, was a big hit with the boys. Later, Sue and I headed out to the Octagonal Hall to see the ‘Dubliners’. We arrived just as the band started their set. It was great toe-tapping music, and we thoroughly enjoyed the performance. The concert wrapped up at 10:30 pm, and although Sean invited us to join him with the band at the Catholic Club, we headed home since Sue was feeling quite tired. I learned a few days later that the ‘entertainment’ carried on until 4 am. My liver appreciated our early night!

Jamie and Harley travelled to Hull on Saturday to catch a mini-cruise to Amsterdam. Jamie rang that evening to tell us that the P&O boat was quite excellent. On Sunday, he celebrated his 26th birthday. How time flies! They returned to Harborough on Monday after having a “very nice time” (Jamie’s words), though it appears that he had slipped on the deck and wrenched his knee again, and it was rather painful.

Jamie and I are planning a road trip. After months of discussion, we’ve finally decided to go to Australia at the beginning of June. We’ll be flying out to Sydney via Kuala Lumpur, where we’ll pick up a motorhome and explore some of this great continent.

Today, Charlotte, Sue, and I went to Joules for lunch. It was a lovely, warm day, and we rounded off the afternoon chatting in the back garden over coffee.

Preparations for scattering Nan’s ashes are coming along well, with all the necessary permissions from the authorities granted. The bench and plaque have been ordered, and my cousin Jeff’s sons, Richard and Gavin, who are builders, have kindly agreed to install it next to the War Memorial, below the castle in Caergwrle. Charlotte had the thoughtful idea of installing the bench and scattering the ashes on Nan’s birthday, 16th June. Hopefully, that’s exactly what we’ll do.