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.