Before arriving at the Canterbury Food & Drink Festival
on Friday, I completed a couple of outstanding tasks. The first was of far
greater significance than the second, but the latter was still important to me,
from a personal point of view.
The previous evening I left my alarm set at my usual,
weekday time for getting up for work. I allowed myself a slightly longer “snooze” period, then leaving Mrs PBT’s fast
asleep (no work for her on a Friday), I slipped out of bed, showered and grabbed a couple of slices of toast for breakfast.
All very routine, but instead of donning my work clothes, I
put some casual gear on instead. The latter included my trusty old
walking boots. I also packed my rucksack, which I'd packed the night before as, whilst
I was heading for Canterbury, I’d a
spot of walking to do en route.
First though, I had the most important and the most
satisfying of my tasks to complete. I left the house, and walked down into Tonbridge,
arriving at my local building society branch, just after it opened at 9am. My objective was to make the final payment on our mortgage,
and having now done so I am pleased to report that after 41 years, during which I've owned three
different properties, I am now mortgage free!
That final payment was an easy, over the counter transaction, and the whole thing seemed something of an anti-climax, but in reality, it wasn't and represented a major milestone in life's journey. From a personal point of view, it was a highly significant and very satisfying achievement, brought about through making regular monthly over-payments which reduced the term by quite a few years.
That final payment was an easy, over the counter transaction, and the whole thing seemed something of an anti-climax, but in reality, it wasn't and represented a major milestone in life's journey. From a personal point of view, it was a highly significant and very satisfying achievement, brought about through making regular monthly over-payments which reduced the term by quite a few years.
Despite that, I didn’t feel any different walking out of the branch, as I was focussed on catching my train to Canterbury. This leads onto my second, and far less significant objective,
which was to complete the missing five mile section of the Canterbury
loop, of the North Downs Way.
Some of you might remember I set off on a three day walk, back in July, with the objective of finishing the Canterbury loop. I’d walked a couple of sections with some friends, several years previously, but having left myself fourteen and a half miles to complete on the final day, I sort of ran out of steam, and called it a day when I reached Canterbury.
Some of you might remember I set off on a three day walk, back in July, with the objective of finishing the Canterbury loop. I’d walked a couple of sections with some friends, several years previously, but having left myself fourteen and a half miles to complete on the final day, I sort of ran out of steam, and called it a day when I reached Canterbury.
That still left five miles from Canterbury
to Chartham station to complete, so the germ of an idea formed in my mind that by catching
an early train, I could alight at Chartham, walk into Canterbury,
thereby completing the whole of that loop, and still be in time to meet up with
friends at the Food & Drink Festival.
That was the plan, but I knew from the outset that I would
have to delay my departure until after the morning rush hour, in order to make use of my
Senior Railcard. I therefore didn’t hurry to the station. I wished I had when
I arrived at the ticket office, as services out of London
were disrupted and delayed due to a signalling failure at Lewisham.
In the end I caught the train I’d wanted to catch, had I not
had business to attend to at the building society. So far so good, but as we
sped towards the coast, the announcement came that due to the late running, the
rear half of the train would terminate at Ashford, rather than detaching and
heading up to Canterbury. This was all well and good for Dover
bound passengers; their section of the train would continue as normal, but for
us poor souls with a hike, plus a beer festival to squeeze in, this was a
serious spanner in the works.
I left the train at my old home town of Ashford.
The station is nothing like what I remember from my youth, as Ashford was
designated as a convenient joining point for the planned passenger services to Europe,
via the Channel Tunnel. Against British Rail’s better judgement the town council
insisted that the high speed line be constructed right through the centre of
the town - as if their ill-judged ring-road scheme hadn’t caused enough
devastation to what was once a pleasant market town.
The rail station was completely rebuilt, and renamed Ashford
International, and in the early days of the Channel Tunnel there were regular Eurostar services to both Paris
and Brussels. But with the opening
of Ebbsfleet in north Kent,
(part of John Prescott’s vanity, Kent Gateway project), services from Ashford
were curtailed, leaving the International Station as a white elephant, and a
monument to people’s over-inflated egos.
I digress, but it still annoys me every time I have to change
trains at Ashford. On this occasion, I needed to get to Chartham, but to compound my frustration
I knew trains only stopped there on an hourly basis. So rather than kicking my
heels at Ashford, I decided my best plan was to take the next train to Canterbury,
and do the walk in reverse.
I arrived in the cathedral city at just after 11:15. The journey should not have taken
that long, but I took advantage of the onboard, train Wi-Fi to check departure
times, which informed me that services from Chartham departed at 21 minutes passed each hour.
I reckoned I could complete the walk in two hours, allowing me to catch the 13:21 service back to Canterbury. I could then walk along to the festival, in Dane John Gardens, and arrive at around 2pm.
I set off in high spirits and found my way out of the city,
and the all important way marker showing the direction of the North Down’s Way. The
weather was blustery, but for a while at least, the threat of showers held off.
The route took me through a development of expensive looking properties, before
disappearing into a wood. Eventually the path came to a road and a bridge over
the busy A2 trunk road, before leading off into a further area of woodland.
This wooded area is known locally as the Blean, and contains the site of a substantial Iron Age settlement called Bigbury
Camp. According to the sign, at the entrance to the woods, Kent Wildlife Trust
and English Heritage have been working to restore landscape surrounding this
ancient hill fort to what it would have looked like, two thousand years ago.
Hence several hectares of sweet chestnut coppice have been removed.
After passing back into the woods, I came across a quite
stocky, solitary walker, heading in my direction. It can be a little spooky, stumbling upon someone in the middle of a dark, dense wood, but after
exchanging a few pleasantries, the stranger turned out to be a forager, in
search of fungi. Furthermore, unlike me, he was glad of the damp conditions, as it
encourages the fungal fruiting bodies to form.
Eventually I left the wood and came to a more open area. This
was another nature reserve, with the intriguing name of “No Man’s Orchard.” You can read more about
the purpose behind this area of traditional orchards, if you click and enlarge
the explanatory photo, but it was here that I took the first of two wrong
turnings, despite having a quite detailed map to guide me.
I eventually emerged into the hamlet of Chartham Hatch, and
as I made my way towards the centre of this settlement, I regained the NDW in
the process. I noticed the sky up ahead, looking increasingly dark, and was now starting to wonder if I would make it to Chartham
station for the 13:21 train.
I quickly hit upon plan B, which was to call in at the Chapter Arms pub. According to my map, I would soon pass the pub on my right, and could then dodge the imminent downpour whilst enjoying a quick pint. This would also kill some, whilst allowing me to arrive in a more leisurely fashion to catch the 14:21 train instead.
I quickly hit upon plan B, which was to call in at the Chapter Arms pub. According to my map, I would soon pass the pub on my right, and could then dodge the imminent downpour whilst enjoying a quick pint. This would also kill some, whilst allowing me to arrive in a more leisurely fashion to catch the 14:21 train instead.
I carried on along the lane, hastening my pace as the first
drops of rain started to fall. I reached a T-junction, overlooked by a prominent
group of inter-linked oast-houses, now
converted into a very desirable looking property. A sign on the wall indicated
I had reached Hatch Lane,
the road which would take me down to Chartham village and its station.
I turned left into Hatch Lane,
surprised to have reached that point, but thinking I must have taken the wrong
turning back in Chartham Hatch. Shortly afterwards the heavens opened. I had my
wet weather gear on, but with the rain coming down like stair-rods, I took shelter under an overhanging tree, and remained
there until the rain has eased off. The combination of dodging the
rain, plus taking the wrong exit out of No Man’s Orchard was sufficient to
ensure I would not make it to the station for that 13:21 train.
As it happened I missed it by 15 minutes , so with
three quarters of an hour before the next service, I toyed with the idea of walking further
into Chartham village and calling in at the Artichoke pub.
A similar situation had occurred two years ago, whilst
walking the Wye to Chartham section of the NDW, with a group of friends. This time though, my
knee was starting to play up, and my right ankle was also sore, due to my boot
laces being tied too tight. In addition, the Artichoke is a Shep’s house, and I
really fancied something better to quench my thirst than a pint of Spitfire of
Master Brew.
Instead I sat in the shelter on the platform, watching the
crossing-keeper shutting and opening the gates, to allow the non-stopping
trains to pass through the station. I was quite surprised to see a manual level
crossing still in operation on this busy line.
I arrived back in Canterbury,
an hour later than intended and made my way to Dane
John Gardens,
through the tourists and the shoppers. After grabbing a swift glass of Old
Dairy Green Hop Bitter from their stand in the festival grounds, I caught up
with my friends. They’d made themselves comfortable in the Green Hop Beer tent,
and the narrative of what happened from that point onwards is as described in my
previous post.
5 comments:
Nice read Paul, and congratulations for your last mortgage payment!
Thanks Joan, it's good to hear from you. I trust all is well with you, and they didn't work you too hard on that hop farm!
I didn't know that hops could be grown in Catalonia, so it was fascinating to read how this enterprise was started from scratch.
Yes, congratulations on actually owning your home, Paul!
Make sure with Land Registry that your lender swiftly cancels the charge, the mortgage, on your property though.
I once found that mine dragged their feet rather. It is an asset on their books after all.
Thanks for the tip-off, ETU.
The young clerk at the Building Society was a bit vague as to what happens next; although he did inform me that the deeds to the property are not held by the society.
I will look into the matter in the morning.
Proof of ownership for most properties these days is the title register at Land Registry, so your lender would not be interested in the bundle of historic papers, deeds etc., which would have been used to register it.
However, they are sometimes useful to have in case of boundary disputes etc., or mistakes by Land Registry, so I'm wondering what happened to yours? Would your solicitor have them perhaps?
You can download the register for your property from Land Registry for three quid, and that will show whether the charge has been removed.
They have a property search by postcode, easier still if you know your title number.
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