It`s quite a week.  A lot going on.  And a lot of it is `annoying.`  Things like the Television Awards thingy the other evening when `awards` were dished out to mediocrities such as David Walliams, Ant and Dec and, astonishingly, Mrs, Brown`s Boys getting the comedy of the year award.  It really comes to something when an Irishman dressed up as an Irish granny has to rely on foul and abusive language in a desperate attempt to disguise the reality that he (or she) ain`t really funny.

And I guess there`s some mixed feelings about things political, which I will leave alone what with the Brexit thing and all that, and also other annoyances such as Greta Thunberg having the commercial nous to register her name and all her works as a trademark and being faced with Naga Munchetty when I turn on the TV in the morning.  

So it`s been quite difficult to find any grains of wheat in this great big pile of chaff but I think I have found a couple.  The first is the extraordinary and most welcome revolution being introduced by the new Speaker of the House of Commons, Sir Lindsay Hoyle. 

Following the way in which his predecessor brought the game into disrepute it is refreshing to see that the new Speaker has announced that he is introducing a new procedure which will allow the Clerk of the House to notify MPs if he disagrees with any decision made by the Speaker.  Friend Bercow generated controversy by reportedly overruling advice from the Clerk and allowing a vote on an amendment which was opposed by Brexiteers.  It is equally refreshing that the new Speaker has announced that under his watch any form of bullying within the House will not be tolerated and that he wants the House to be a village where everyone is treated with respect.

Now back in November I had (yet another) rant at the BBC about their plan to withdraw the red button text service in order to cut costs and to annoy the elderly and disabled - here`s what I said then - https://snoppersays.blogspot.com/2019/11/blog-post.html.  Now following the predictable outrage and petitions to Downing Street the BBC has apparently had second thoughts and the BBC director general Tony Hall has said he would examine the concerns that the withdrawal of the service would `leave many people, who are already vulnerable, further isolated from society` and make a fresh decision in the spring.

Signs that the sunny uplands are in sight after all?

So, in a couple of weeks the UK will be leaving the political project that is the European Union and it will be interesting to see what the practical effects might be, both for us here in the good ol` U of K and for our friends and partners across the channel.  Some of those changes might give the opportunity to recapture some of the magic of our past, those long ago times before we were seduced into the EU in the first place.

I`ll be interested to see if we can find the courage to go back to how some things were - the reintroduction of our former currencies such as the half crown, the florin, the farthing etc., all of which made perfect sense, of course - four farthings in a penny, twelve pennies in a shilling, two shillings in a florin, twenty shillings in a pound and so on. 

We might even reintroduce the old gallon rather than having litres of petrol and, who knows, there might be improvements to our sporting life as we go back to penalties being awarded for deliberate handball;  and where being anywhere on a football pitch in an offside position meant you were interfering with play.  (I think cricket pitches still stick to the original 22 yards of a chain but I might be wrong about that, not having played the game for over half a century.)

There is some seductive charm about going back to days gone by - when things were so much more simple, where life was lived at a different, less stressful pace than today, when priorities were established around friends and family instead of being imposed via `social media.`   It`s funny how music almost always sums up a mood and all those years ago the divine Carole King along with Gerry Goffin wrote stuff then that is perhaps even more relevant today.   One of my favourite tracks of theirs, which seems so appropriate as we head out of the EU`s clutches, has long been `Goin` back` and the last few lines seem to capture what I mean in this jumbled rant:-

"Let everyone debate the true reality.

I`d rather see the world the way it used to be.

A little bit of freedom`s all we lack.

So catch me if you can

I`m going back."

And here it is sung by the equally divine and much missed Dusty Springfield:-

FOR THE FALLEN...

This is the Pilgrims Way, the long distance and very ancient footpath that leads from Winchester to Canterbury.   It passes through my bit of Kent and I took the photo above where the path hugs the lea of the North Downs in this part of Kent.  A little further in to our walk, the Pilgrims Way is crossed by another footpath and so we turned left and started to make our way up the slope of the North Downs.....

We came to a field and followed the path until it came to a gateway which led to the higher ground......

And just beyond the gateway something caught my eye......

And I wondered what it could possibly be in this remote spot a long way off the beaten track.   So we investigated by tramping through part of the hillside that is covered with wild thyme and brambles and it became apparent that what we were seeing was some kind of memorial.   It turned out to be something rather special and so I took this close up photo which revealed the story.......

And a little research when we got home showed that Tommy Pinkham was the Squadron Leader of the Royal Air Force No. 19 Fighter Squadron and the youngest Squadron Leader in the RAF at the age of just 25.   According to the Fighter Command Combat Report dated 5th September 1940, eleven members of the No. 19 Fighter Squadron, lead by Squadron Leader Pinkham, took off from RAF Duxford at 09.47 hours to patrol Hornchurch, an area east of London near the Thames Estuary.   Forty Luftwaffe Dornier 215 bombers escorted by 40 Messerschmitt 109 fighters were spotted approaching from the west.   At 10.15 hours Tommy and five others attacked the bombers with the other five aircraft in the squadron attacking the Luftwaffe fighters.  Squadron Leader Pinkham was last seen engaging three Dornier bombers but became a casualty, crashing on this spot on this Kentish hillside, where the memorial is maintained to remember his selfless heroism.

It seemed especially poignant to come across this memorial during this year which marks the 75th anniversary of VE Day.  And so we left this now very special place which now has the peace and serenity befitting its surroundings, thanks to men like Tommy Pinkham and his colleagues, to whom we owe so very much.

No. 19 Fighter Squadron at RAF Duxford - Squadron Leader Tommy Pinkham in the centre.

Just a quick one.   Three months ago the Saints were comprehensively stuffed 9-0 at home by Leicester City.  In hindsight that may have been the best thing that has happened to the club for some time, as it concentrated minds and brought a hitherto unrecognized determination that, as things couldn`t get any worse, the only way was up.

And so it has proved.  Since that fateful evening at St. Mar y`s Stadium the team and the manager have gone back to basics, sorted themselves out and performed a turnaround in the club`s fortunes that almost defies belief.  If you look now at the `form table` for the last ten matches you will see that the Saints lie second only to Liverpool, having had a superb run of results, beating Aston Villa and Chelsea away from home, Spurs at home and yesterday their redemption was completed by going to Leicester and beating them 2-1 in their own ground.

So along with my fellow Southampton supporting chums we are now officially over the moon, having banished parrot sickness from our minds.  As things stand, the Saints have 28 points, needing another 12 from the remaining 16 games to guarantee Premier League survival.  Surely that should happen to confirm a quite astounding revival although  I really am struggling to believe what`s happened.

So, a good weekend all round. ( But I wonder, being a Saints fan, how long this feelgood factor might last.)

STILL ABSENT...

First things first.  As this is my first post of 2020 I really do wish you all a very happy, peaceful and fulfilling new year.   

Next, an apology.  I know I have been absent from these pages for a short while - I said I would be back once the festivities of the festive season had died down a bit but, as ever, events have caught up with me.   I won`t go in to them for legal reasons but suffice to say that I have been very busy, fully engaged in a mammoth adventure which is painting the hall, the staircase and the landing - well the walls, doors, skirting boards etc.

It`s going OK so far - but it`s a long and fiddly job.  Maybe I`m getting fussy in my dotage but I do like things to be `right` and so there`s a bit of attention to detail going on.   So much so that I am tempted to put one of those `traders` signs outside to let the world know what`s going on.   It will probably say....

M. ANGELO

PAINTER AND DECORATOR

CEILINGS A SPECIALITY.

So forgive me if my project means that I may not be posting here as much as I would like but I will do so as and when I get the chance.  Hope that`s OK with you.

Before this gentleman goes into hibernation until next year`s festive period, I thought I would ask him to stick around to wish you...

.....with all good wishes to you, your friends and family for what I hope will be a happy, peaceful and enjoyable year....

A DESERVED HONOUR...

I have long been a bit cynical as far as the normally discredited honours system is concerned but today an MBE has been awarded to Southampton legend Francis Benali, not for his prowess as a destructive full back in days gone by but for his achievement in raising over £1 million for Cancer Research in performing a quite outstanding series of daunting physical and mental challenges by running to all 20 Premier League grounds in a matter of three weeks - the equivalent of running two marathons a day. 

So, congratulations to Frannie on a well deserved honour. 

As for me, I have a couple of routines that I like to follow.  The first is to buy the local newspaper each week and I turn to the obituary column;  if my name doesn`t appear, then I just carry on for another week.  The second is that each time the `honours` are announced I look to see if my name appears there as well;  so far it hasn`t, much to my relief as I would hate to have to dress up and go to the Palace to receive a gong - far too much pretension and trouble for me.  Although years ago, to be fair, Mrs. Snopper and I were invited to a Queen`s Garden Party at the Palace but we declined as gracefully as we could we simply because we really didn`t want to go - too much pretension and trouble for us.

So I look back on my life in a desperate search to see if I can claim any `honourable mentions` and the best I can come up with goes back to my National Service days, all of sixty years ago now.   Us enforced conscripts were not supposed to like or conform to the ways of the regular army and so we spent a lot of time complaining, much of the time soto voce amongst ourselves, adopting the art of `ticking` - as such complaining was known as.  

We became so practised at the art that we formed our own association - the  Tenth Hussars National Service Ticking Association (THNSTA,) which required a certain amount of ticking to be recorded in order to gain entry to that exclusive club and then be able to add NSTA to any military documents requiring our signature.  A similar `honour` went to those who were admitted to the PA Club, entry to which required the consumption of eight pints (or German equivalent) of the local Paderborner export bier in a fixed amount of time down at Fritz`s nearby hostelry. (I`m sure you don`t need me to explain what PA stands for.)

And so I was able to attach NSTA and PA (and bar) to my signature during the latter stages of my illustrious defence of Queen and Country.   I still consider that to be more of an honour than any gong I am never going to receive from officialdom although I readily accept that Frannie Benali has thoroughly deserved everything that comes his way.

ONE MORE SLEEP...

.....and Father Christmas lands on my roof with a sack full of goodies.   I can`t begin to describe the excitement I feel but, as I have been told for the past eighty years, "You`ll be fine when you grow up."

Now I`ve been doing this blog, on and off, for some years now and at the last count it has been read by well over 400,000 people.  There`s a gizmo that tells me where these visitors have come from and even in more recent times I see that, among others, there have been over 50,000 `views` from here in the UK;  over 31,000 from the USA;  18,000 from Russia;  5,000 from Germany; and over 3,000 from each of France, Canada and Ukraine.

And as this is the 1954th `post` I have published on this blog, I would like to take this opportunity to thank all those who have viewed my ramblings and rantings which I hope have been of interest but most importantly at this `most wonderful time of the year` I would simply like to say........

.....and all good wishes to you, your neighbours, friends and family in the hope that the world is as kind to you as it is for me.  Back after the festivities have subsided a bit.

Today`s the day.  The day that sad old people like me who suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) have looked forward to for weeks if not months.  Now it`s finally here, I feel a sense of relief and the ability at last to look forward to the days lengthening and things looking up.   OK, the weather today here in deepest Kent hasn`t been great - there are warnings of heavy rain and probable flooding and I know that there is some time to go before the return of more daylight and warming sunshine - but the corner is being turned and I`m grateful for that.

The day has been blessed with visits from family, by the Saints winning a must win six pointer away at Aston Villa to climb out of the relegation zone and my neighbour`s heroes, the Gills of Gillingham, also claiming a 3-1 victory.   Maybe it just needed the right date to bring about these minor miracles? 

One of the more intriguing things to emerge from last week`s General Election was the way in which the Labour Party is responding to the drumming it received at the hands of countless disenchanted former Labour voters especially in the Midlands and the north of the country.  And predictably their most pressing concern is who to succeed Oh Jeremy Corbyn as party leader and, more importantly, Leader of Her Majesty`s Loyal Opposition.

And already candidates waiting in the wings are beginning to emerge from beneath assorted stones and various woodwork and it will be interesting to see what qualities will be looked for in the impending competition.  Now, not being a member of the Labour Party or any other political organisation, I`m hardly in a position to comment but there seem to be three choices open to the National Executive and the wider party membership.

The first - and perhaps the least likely - is that they might choose a candidate steeped in the Corbynista tradition, to pursue those policies, hopes and dreams of the now discredited Jezza - not to be recommended I would have thought;  the second might therefore be someone who has got the message from the election, in that for the party to carry on as usual simply will not do and that a root and branch revision of the whole point of the Labour party is what is necessary. Not sure that seems very likely either.

But lastly there is the up to date, modern, politically correct option.  This might already be off the ground as there seems to be an imperative to appoint a woman as leader just because she is a woman. But in order to be attractive to the majority of urban based, middle class, educated party members, she should ideally be either lesbian, bi-sexual or transgender, come from an ethnic minority background, come from somewhere oop north, be state educated, be a devotee of Greta Thunberg, not be in possession of even a scrap of plastic, not be prepared to go to war with anyone for whatever reason, be determined to scrap the country`s nuclear deterrent, be committed to a vegan diet and cycle to work and back each day.

Shouldn`t be too difficult.

Well, that`s how it feels right now.  Last evening I watched Southampton lose to West Ham 1-0 in what for both teams might well have been a must win six pointer.  Sadly for me, the three points on offer went to the visitors to St. Mary`s and left the Saints still (just) in the relegation zone of the Premier League.   So next week`s away fixture against Aston Villa is even more crucial, as the Villa are one place above the Saints thanks to a superior goal difference.

Now, some of my very good friends are West Ham supporters and they have been conspicuous by their silence following last night`s events.  They may be keeping quiet out of respect for the feelings of an octogenarian Saints fan but they need not be concerned - Southampton were awful and West Ham deserved to win.

But that is the sixth time in the last nine games that the Saints have lost at home and despite a recent mini revival, it really does seem that there are severe problems surrounding the club, its Oriental owner, its eclectic collection of coaching staff and the distinct lack of quality and character amongst the playing squad.  So it may be just a matter of time before the walls come tumbling down.

So I need to look elsewhere for some solace after this disappointment and I see that Truro City continue to top the league in the Vanarama National League South Division following yet another away win at Hayes and Yeading;  Gillingham cemented their place in mid table of League One with a creditable 1-1 draw away at Fleetwood and Wimbledon managed a 2-1 win against Doncaster, despite the enforced absence through injury of Captain Scott Wagstaff;   Maidstone United conjured up a late defeat against Concord Rangers (neither have I) in the FA Trophy and Forest Green Rovers slipped again in a 1-0 defeat away at Northampton.   Mercifully Fort William`s game was called off due to bad weather.

Forest Green`s decline over the last couple of weeks has seen them slip from the top of the League Two table but their current problems are as nothing compared to those down at St. Mary`s.   The eternal lot of the dedicated Saints fan shows no sign of changing any time soon but the faith will be kept, the loyalty will remain and life in the Championship might not be so bad after all?

ALL ABOARD.....

You know what it`s like.   You wake up one morning and face an increasingly weird and unreal world and you wonder whether you have woken up in Alice`s wonderland.  Well, I woke up this morning (thank goodness - at my age I`m truly grateful for that) and I look out and it`s cold, frosty, dark and pretty miserable.  I turn on the television and I am immediately assaulted by a kind of trial by media which shouts at me, argues all the time and seems a million miles away from Lord Reith and his three commandments about informing, educating and entertaining.

And then I realise that it`s election day and I face the prospect (some might call it a civic duty) to toddle up the road to the village hall and cast my vote one way or another.   Now here in our deepest Kent enclave, they don`t bother to count the votes, they just weigh them, as it has been a conservative stronghold ever since elections first began, so whichever way I might vote it won`t make the slightest difference to the outcome here.

But as I gaze through the looking glass at the broader picture, the national scene, it confirms that I might be in that fabled wonderland after all.  There seems to be a choice nationally between the fat controller or a mischievous imp with Alice herself bringing up the rear, waiting in the wings to see if she can, after all, pull the strings and fashion the country`s future in her image.   There are, of course, other minor characters to flesh out the cast list - there`s a mad hatter, a queen bee, a monster raving loony and so on.   But whatever the outcome of this election, it is likely to perpetuate the notion that we are living in  some kind of parallel universe where nothing is what it seems, where nothing is true anymore and where despair - or at least resignation - are near neighbours.

So I`ll toddle up the road, cast my vote and sit back and wait to see what happens, although I suspect that once again my senses will be assaulted by the baying media and by politicians who will either be over the moon or sick as parrots.  It`s not a happy prospect.

And all that comes after some truly sad news in recent days - the passing of Bob Willis, Marie Fredriksson and David Bellamy.  Those untimely losses coupled with the beatification of Greta Thunberg as `Person of the Year` just add to the sense of unreality

Beam me up Scotty..............................

COUNTING THE DAYS...

Around sixty years ago I was doing my National Service, having been yanked away from `normal` life to surrender myself to 731 days in the army for Queen and country.  There was no choice but to do it and get on with it, which makes me wonder how the snowflakes of today would cope with something as traumatic as that.  (I suspect the age of `social media` would see mass refusal to have anything to do with it?)

Anyway, one thing that kept me on the right side of sanity was to do a demob chart which consisted on 731 numbers written out on assorted sheets of paper so that each day I could cross one off.  The last sheet had about 100 numbers left and they were arranged in ever decreasing circles, eventually to disappear in the centre as my freedom was restored.

These days no such issues, of course, but instead I find that there are events to which I look forward with doubtful enthusiasm and whilst I have no desire to wish my life away there are certain things at this time of the year that I really hope might pass quickly.

In the next few weeks firstly we have the General Election, of which I am already bored witless and I cannot wait for next Thursday to come and go so that all the  sound and fury, the lies, the shouting, the ranting and all  the false dawns and promises are finally done with and life, whoever wins, can attempt at least to recapture a semblance of normality.

Then it`s Christmas and the New Year,  supposedly the `most wonderful time of the year` but as is now so common with other `events` it becomes little more than an excuse for excess.  As Bart Simpson reminded us, Christmas is the time when we remember the true meaning of Santa`s birthday.   It doesn`t help having it at the dog end of the year when the weather is miserable, the days are short and I`m a bit annoyed with God as to why He or She chose 25th December for the virgin birth.  Ah well, at least the kiddies will enjoy the fairy tales at Christmas time.

I guess the good news in all of this is that there are only another fifteen days before the shortest day of the year.  It can`t come soon enough for me and I can then stop counting the days  and consign another countdown to the refuse bin.

So, as it is the season of goodwill, I hope you have a nice day.  

YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS...

Well, maybe you will.  It depends.  

I see that Greta Thunberg has been named as Waterstones Author of the Year for her book  "No One is Too Small to make a Difference," which the bookselling chain has described as an "urgent message" as her book consists of the collection of the 16-year old activist`s speeches.  Now normally Waterstones choose a Book of the Year but this year has added the accolade of Author of the Year.

Which says a lot really and sums up the basis for my comments here.  Firstly, it is quite an astonishing decision to grant this award ahead of towering pinnacles of authorship such as John le Carre who this year produced another masterpiece with his latest work, "Agent Running in the Field."   But the Waterstones decision looks very much like another example of bandwagon jumping in order to be associated with Ms. Thunberg and all her works.  

It`s not just Waterstones who have fallen into this beguiling trap, of course;  so-called celebrities, assorted politicians and even the royal family, represented by Prince Harry`s approval, have joined those who may simply feel it fashionable to be associated with this young Swedish `activist,` for whom life will never be the same and certainly not `normal.`

As for me, I don`t know why I should but I feel rather sorry for this young lady.  I`m sure she means well but I fear she has missed out on those things that 16 - year - olds are supposed to be doing at that age.  She doesn`t look happy - too intense, too angry about things - as if she is taking all the troubles of the world on her young shoulders.  She really ought to be allowed to get a life before it`s too late and let those who worship at her feet grow up a bit. 

....and so we say farewell..

.....to yet another `service` on which so many have relied for so many years.  This time it`s the BBC (of course) who have decided to switch off the news and sport text services on the TV red button at the end of January next year.   This has been an invaluable service for reading headlines, updated cricket and football scores and tables, weather, travel news and loads more ever since it was first introduced as Ceefax, then Teletext and more latterly Red Button.

In a statement, the BBC said, "It`s always a difficult decision to reduce services but we have to balance the resources needed to maintain and develop this service with the need to update our systems to give people even better internet-based services.  Viewers can still access this information on the BBC website, BBC News and Sport apps as well as our 24-hour News Channel."

No they won`t.  Not if, like me, you are an octogenarian pensioner struggling to survive on a fixed income or someone who has no internet access or no idea how to access the BBC apps (which I take to mean applications) on a mobile phone which you may not have anyway.

Quite apart from the BBC`s assumption that everyone, yes everyone, has a smart phone, PC, tablet or whatever else and - even if they do - will have the ability to master modern technology, I suspect the real reason for this apparently vindictive withdrawal of a very useful service is to dish out some payback for the uncertainty surrounding the fact that the free TV licences for the over-75s  are likely to be withdrawn next year too.

So, farewell to my red buttoning for things like traffic updates, cricket and football  scores and tables and the football gossip column which gives me probably fake news about the comings and goings in the parallel universe of football.  It is a service which will be much missed but then we do indeed live in a mad world of strange priorities.

Well, two actually.  In a weekend of mixed sporting events I have to report not one, but two disappointing results for teams supported by the cognoscenti of our Kentish enclave.

The first was that Southampton went to the Emirates to take on a troubled Arsenal side and they were doing very nicely, thank you, leading 2-1 deep in to stoppage time.  But - there`s always a but with the Saints - in the 96th minute Arsenal struck home to secure a point apiece in a 2-2 draw.   Now if before the game you had offered me a point away at the Emirates, I would have taken it, especially as the pundits in the Sky build-up programme all had Arsenal winning by about four clear goals. 

So a bit of a kick in the teeth for us Saints fans but perhaps nothing compared to that inflicted on my good friend and neighbour, Mr. Slightly, the well known Gillingham aficionado.  His team went to Wimbledon, for whom our street`s erstwhile near neighbour Scott ("Waggy") Wagstaff plies his trade not only as a box-to-box pacy flanker but also as captain of the Dons.   And - there`s always an and with the Gills - it was Captain Scott who scored for Wimbledon with a decisive finish to secure a 1-0 win over Mr. Slightly`s downcast outfit.

Elsewhere Truro City - for the third time in three weeks -  made the 400-mile round trip to Blackfield, my wartime childhood retreat close to Southampton Water but this time came away with a 2-0 win to keep them in second place in their league;  Forest Green Rovers also had a good away win, this time 4-2 at Leyton Orient which also keeps them in the promotion hunt, whilst Maidstone United have to play again against Dartford to decide who goes into the next round of the FA Trophy.

So maybe not all bad news after all - just don`t mention the cricket.

Last night - on the coldest, most frosty evening of the season so far, my good friend and neighbour, the admirable Mr. Slightly, ventured to the Priestfield Stadium at Gillingham to watch his footballing heroes take on the might of Sunderland in an FA Cup replay, the Gills having secured a creditable draw away at the curiously named Stadium of Light about ten days ago.

But the real heroes of this ramble are not the Gillingham team or their ample manager, Steve Evans, but those who decided to go and watch the game anyway, including my neighbour, of course.   He and his Gills supporting chums were rewarded with their team winning 1-0 after extra time, thus securing a place in the Second Round Proper of the FA Cup where they will play Doncaster Rovers.  For it was Doncaster who overcame Wimbledon - captained once more by our street`s sporting icon Captain Scott Wgastaff  - in another FA Cup replay last night and The Dons will not be looking forward to their trip to Gillingham, which is always a difficult place to go to.

But on the question of heroes, spare a thought for the 329 Sunderland supporters who made the 600-mile round trip to watch their team go out of the competition after extra time.  And it`s that bit that makes their journey that much more heroic.  I guess the game finally ended well past 10.00pm, they then had to escape the rigours and vagaries of the visitors` uncovered open stand at Priestfield which is not a good place to be on a long, cold, unsuccessful frosty night and make the journey back to their northern outpost.   God only knows what time they got back home.

I suppose it might be the underdog in me - as a Saints fan I readily identify with plucky minnows - but I do admire the true supporters of struggling teams, some of whom, like Sunderland, have fallen on hard times and others who have never known anything other than constantly dreaming that one day things will be different;  hence my penchant for clubs like Fort William and Truro City, whose fans undertake journeys in support of their own causes, lost or otherwise, which strike me as truly heroic.

So let`s hear it for the unsung heroes, those who give their devotion, time and resources to following their chosen club - I just hope that they are admired and respected by those clubs in return.   And that goes for Gillingham too.

A HAVEN OF REFUGE...

The last leg of our day`s wander through the more distant parts of Kent took us to the village/township of Elham.  (I wonder when a hamlet becomes a village, a village becomes a township, a township becomes a proper town and so on....)

Elham lies, unsurprisingly, in the lovely Elham Valley and within the `Kent Downs Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty,` so I`m a little surprised that it is not more `touristy` than it sems to be.   Maybe it was because  we visited on a late Autumn day in the late afternoon but there was an air of quiet contentment about the place.  We hardly saw anyone during our amble around, during which I took a couple of photos - the one at the top kind of sums up the sleepy ambience of Elham and the one below shows an example of the architecture that typifies the village......  

Which might explain why it has become something of a haven of refuge, not only for those seeking a quiet backwater away from the maelstrom of modern day Britain but also for those, in times gone by, who were seeking escape and solace from other forms of intensity.  A couple of examples:-

Former Prime Minister Sir Anthony Eden lived at Park Gate just outside of Elham during the Second World War and award winning actress Audrey Hepburn spent some of her childhood in Elham during the same period.  (Elham is not the sort of place to `commercialise` its claims to fame but the entrepreneur in me would suggest that opening a place that does breakfasts and calling it Tiffany`s might work?)  

A quiet corner of Elham

Now Kent is of course a hotbed of cricket and it`s really no surprise to discover that Kent and England wicket-keeper/batsman Les Ames was born and brought up in Elham and another Kent and England cricketer, Mark Ealham used to live in The Square in the village.  (The clue is in the name, I guess.)  Among others finding peace in this tranquil setting is actress Pam Ferris, who has lived in Elham for the past ten years.

So it has a lot going for it and it was a real pleasure to spend a little time there, discovering its charm and some of its secrets and I look forward to our next adventures into the hidden byways of the county of Kent.

Part two of our journey through hitherto unknown parts of deepest Kent saw us say a fond farewell to Wickhambreaux and venture to the nearby village/township of Wingham.  Not too sure what to make of Wingham.  It seems pleasant enough - plenty of architectural interest but it`s spoiled by having a main road (the A257 from Canterbury to Sandwich) running through it.   Wingham also seems to lack any real claim to fame but its church has a sundial above the main door rather than a clock and Wingham is allegedly the former home of `celebrity chef` Paul Hollywood so you can see what I mean about its claim to fame.   

But I did come across a coffee shop with the intriguing name of `The Politician`s Daughter.`  After a few bells rang in my head I realised that that was a snippet from a popular song which was first recorded by Frank Sinatra in 1946.  It contains the line:-

"A politician`s daughter 
Was accused of drinking water
And was fined a great big fifty dollar bill.
They`ve got an awful lot of coffee in Brazil."

And that was about it for Wingham, so off we went to our next stop which was the hamlet of Barfrestone, which I had heard about but never visited before.  It lies in a pretty remote area of east Kent which used to include the now defunct Kent Coal Fields.  Barfrestone used to have a pub - it`s now a private house;  it used to have a telephone box - it still has the box but no telephone.

But the glory of Barfrestone and the reason for our visit is its 12th century Norman church of St. Nicholas which is a Grade 1 listed building and has been described as the best Norman church in the country.  The quality and profusion of the decoration is breathtaking.  The outstanding feature is the south doorway but there is also a fine and rare Norman wheel window.  There is so much to see and admire both inside and out.

Here are a couple of photos I took on our visit:- (Please click on them for better images).......

New light through old windows

  

The wheel window

For much more about this glorious and very special church, please visit http://www.greatenglishchurches.co.uk/html/barfreston.html