End of lock-down?

Judging by the number of cars on the road last weekend, you could have been forgiven for thinking that the lock-down is over and everything’s back to normal. It was my idea to take a drive down into Sussex, and head towards Rye, in order to do our weekly food shop. Local independent grocery retailer, Jempsons have a large and well-filled superstore at nearby Peasmarsh, so a trip across county lines would enable us to go somewhere a little different for our shopping and see a little of the Sussex countryside.

It’s amazing how after being confined to a narrow area between home and work, the prospect of a 50-mile round trip could seem so exciting. Three and a half months ago we were looking forward to cruising in luxury across the North Sea to Hamburg, whereas now a short drive towards the coast seemed quite daring and definitely exciting.

We set of shortly after midday fully expecting the roads to be relatively free of traffic. Boy were we in for a shock.  Almost as soon as we joined the A21 to the south of Tonbridge, we became part of a steady stem of traffic. I was fast moving in the main, but that was the scary bit, as it seemed like every petrol-head and boy racer was out on the road, participating in a mad dash to the coast. To compound the sense of "Mad Max," there were dozens of bikers on the road as well, all eager participants in what seemed like a race to oblivion. 

We were glad to turn of the A21 at Flimwell and then cut across towards Rye via Hawkhurst and Newenden. Whilst waiting at the traffic lights in the centre of Hawkhurst, an ambulance came hurtling towards us in the opposite direction, its blue lights flashing an sirens wailing. "Another Covid patient being rushed to hospital," said son Matthew from the back seat. "More like one of these idiots going too fast," my wife and I both replied.

The traffic thinned out considerably after Hawkhurst, and as we crossed the River Rother and into Sussex, over the old stone bridge south of Newenden, we noticed the hire boats out on the river once again. We continued along the winding A268, skirting the village of Beckley, before reaching our destination on the edge of Peasmarsh.

I’ve written about Jempson’s before, but to recap they are a family-owned, Sussex-based company offering locally sourced products and services. They were founded in 1935, as a bakery business in the village of Peasmarsh, just outside Rye and today run two supermarkets, two convenience stores, six cafe’s, a pharmacy plus a petrol station.

Jempson’s are everyone’s favourite independent grocery store and, amongst other goodies, they sell “sausage rolls to die for.” Their Peasmarsh Superstore opened in January 2002 on the same site as that chosen by the firm’s founder, George Thomas Jempson 80 years ago. Mrs PBT’s and I have often called in there on our way back from visits to Rye, having been impressed by what is on offer there.

Saturday’s visit was slightly different due to lock restrictions, with a one-way system in place. This was well laid-out and easy to follow, so I left Eileen to do the shopping and walked around with Matthew, who wanted to buy some bits of his own. The café was obviously shut, which is a shame as I like to grab myself a coffee whilst Mrs PBT’s picks up the groceries.

Before anyone access me of sexism, this is very much my wife’s choice.  She rightly points out that it only take one person to shop; her pet hate being couples (especially elderly ones), who amble up and down the  aisles whilst dithering over what to have for dinner next Wednesday and what they could do with the left-over Sunday joint? I’m sure you get what I’m talking about here.

So, no relaxing cup of coffee, which was probably just as well as the toilets were shut; one of the real downsides of the current Corona-virus situation! Are customer toilets that much a hot bed of infection capability, I wonder? (Probably yes, according to the latest science.)

Straight back to Tonbridge it was then after loading up the car, with no scenic drive along the coast, or stop-off at Dungeness for fish and chips. We gave the A21 a miss on the drive back, taking the route through Ticehurst and Wadhurst instead. With the pubs shut, there was no point in stopping off at the Bull Inn at Three Leg Cross, either.

The route brought us in at the bottom end of Tunbridge Wells and up passed the common. It seemed like half the town was either sitting or lying out on the Common, soaking up the afternoon sunshine, but most of the groups did seem to be sensibly spaced from one another.

I spent most of Sunday in the garden, until Matthew asked if I fancied a walk around the Sportsground. He drove us down, mainly to give his car a bit of a run, but also because I’ve been hobbling around of late. An insect bite, at the bottom of my right shin, has turned septic causing an infection known as cellulitis. I’ve been prescribed a course of antibiotics, but even these seem rather slow at shifting the infection.

A walk probably wasn’t the wisest of things, under the circumstances, but I fancied a look round Tonbridge’s largest area of open space. We parked near the swimming pool and then took the path that follows the stream right round the perimeter of what is known locally as the "Sportsground."  This meant we largely manged to avoid most of the crowds out taking advantage of the sunny weather.

Matthew wanted a look at the boats moored on the opposite bank of the river. Some of these are lived in, and form part of a small community of narrow boat owners centred around the local boatyard, known locally as the “Venice of Tonbridge.”

The boatyard was the centre of controversy a few year ago when the people living in the narrow boats moored there were told there would be changes made to their tenancy agreement. This meant they would no longer have access to electricity, drinking water, toilet and washing facilities, shed storage and garden areas, which had been included under their previous agreement.

Given just two weeks to sign up and faced with a High Court action to evict them, most of the owners left. It had been suggested that the family who owned the yard wanted to build there, even though the local authority had advised it was very unlikely that planning permission would be granted, due to the risk of flooding.

Fortunately, a benefactor in the form of a boating enthusiast, who had once lived on the river himself, stepped in, secured a long-term lease on the yard, cleared up the site in line with health and safety regulations. He then invited prospective tenants to apply for a mooring with what is now known as Tonbridge Boatyard Ltd. Several boats have now returned, and it was good to see this community of boat owners back in their rightful place.

We made our way back towards the High Street. Matthew wanted a look at his shop which has been shut since the start of the lock-down. He is due back there next Monday, helping a couple of management colleagues get the premises safe and ready for reopening at the beginning of next month. Like many others, he is looking forward to going back to work, after 14 weeks on furlough – another American word that has found its way into our language.

Monday just gone, was the first day of trading for many “non-essential” shops and small businesses. Traffic on my journey into work was noticeably heavier, and even more so yesterday morning (Tuesday). I took a different route into work, noticing as I drove past the entrance to Penshurst Place that this popular late medieval manor house is also reopening to visitors; albeit by means of pre-booked appointments only.

Slowly but inexorably, life is gradually returning to some semblance of normality.