Medway on Film: Out and About with Dreamy LomoChrome Turquoise
“You don’t take a photograph, you make it.”
Ansel Adams
Dear reader, I have a confession.
I have already confessed to my ever-expanding book collection.
However, books are not the only thing I collect.
I am also generating quite the little camera hoard.
Thankfully the camera hoard is not as significant as the book hoard. I have just six cameras of different types, whereas I dare not count the number of books I own.
(I’m realising as I write this that if I’m not careful, I will end up on Stacey Solomon’s Sort Your Life Out, with all my cameras and books laid out in a warehouse for the whole world to judge.)
I love photography almost as much as I love books. After several years of shooting with digital cameras, more recently I’ve been having fun with film photography. Naturally, for this blog, it was time to start capturing Medway.
Want to Do the Write Thing? 11 Great Places to Shop for Greeting Cards in Medway and Kent
“This is not a letter, but my arms around you for a brief moment.”
Katherine Mansfield writing to her brother, Leslie Beauchamp
A list of what has come through the letterbox this week:
Two adverts for takeaway pizza
A letter from the DVLA
A letter from HMRC
Propaganda from a wannabe politician
A catalogue I should really unsubscribe from
The Man of Kent’s allotment invoice
The new car parking permit
Actual post doesn’t happen much these days. Like many people, I go as paperless as possible when it comes to bills and suchlike. When post does arrive, it’s usually boring stuff to be skim-read and consigned to the letter rack, to be dealt with on a rainy afternoon. This week’s post was no exception. It was a pile of hard copy spam and life admin. To borrow a phrase from Craig Revel Horwood, ‘dull, dull, DULL.’
But there is an upside. When the usual post is a heap of junk mail and bureaucracy-beige envelopes, it makes the arrival of something different – a birthday card, an invitation, a postcard, or even an actual letter from a friend – triply, even quadruply exciting!
I love receiving post from friends and family. A well-chosen card that the sender knows will make me laugh, letters from the (now-growing-up-fast) children in my life, beautiful thank-you notes, postcards from exotic international locations that turn me Elphaba-green with envy – I love them all. That’s the sort of correspondence to cherish forever.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not harking back to the times when people sat around waiting impatiently for the second post to arrive, like characters in a Victorian novel. I love the convenience and spontaneity of Whatsapps, texts and emails, especially for those times when only a well-chosen gif will do. And sadly, sending snail mail is a bit of a luxury in these financially-stressed times. Stamps are expensive, and cards aren’t cheap either. But texts and social media posts are impermanent (we’ve all deleted a message we wanted to keep accidentally), whereas a physical card or letter can be treasured forever. Plus, a surprise card or letter on the doormat is a little piece of delight, and we all need more delight in our lives.
I keep favourite pieces of post in boxes upstairs. Everyday communication feels so ephemeral now that cards and letters are even more special. They are like handwritten time capsules that hold the keys to fond memories, which make them great cheerer-uppers – hugs in an envelope that can transport you back to a time, a place, a person. I have cards and letters from friends and family going back decades. Some of those people have sadly passed on now. Does that make reading the cards bittersweet sometimes? Yes. Am I glad I kept them? Always. I’ll even display cards I particularly love, like this one from my dear friend, The Prodigal Geordie.
I also adore sending cards and letters. One of my love languages is finding the perfect card for someone. I have been known to buy a birthday or Christmas card that I think is perfect for a friend months in advance and save it up, ready for the big day. I’ll also happily buy cards I think are beautiful, or witty, or funny, just to have to hand when the right occasion presents itself.
So today, I’m writing about great, independent places to shop for cards in Medway and Kent. I’m also sharing my tips for making sending cards easier and more fun! Here we go!
New Year, Old Books: On choosing to read more, and show some shelf-restraint
Promise, by Jackie Kay
Remember, the time of year when the future appears like a blank sheet of paper a clean calendar, a new chance. On thick white snow You vow fresh footprints then watch them go with the wind’s hearty gust. Fill your glass. Here’s tae us. Promises made to be broken, made to last.
It is 7:14pm on New Year’s Day and I have already cracked.
I have bought a book.
Actually, I have bought two books.
Truthfully, I could have bought three. Or four. Or fifteen. But I do have a scrap of self-restraint, and I haven’t won the lottery yet.
I had made a New Year’s resolution to read more of the books I have, and not just keep buying new ones. I succeeded for less than one day.
“Men of Kent and Kentish Men. The natives of Kent are often spoken of in these different terms. Will you be so good as to inform me what is the difference between these most undoubtedly distinctive people?” – B.M.
Notes and Queries, (Vol 5, No. 127), 3 April 1852
I remember the night I first met The Man of Kent. It was at a fancy dress party, first week of university. The theme of the party was ‘P’. One guy came wearing a massive box (‘parcel’). Another came dressed head-to-toe in newspaper (‘paper’), which later proved impractical when they tried to go to the loo. A good friend went all out and came attired in the full armour of a Paladin knight. I had cheaped out on a sparkly tiara from Claire’s Accessories so that I could make a last-minute, lo-fi attempt at ‘princess’. The Man of Kent was dressed as a priest (an unusual choice as he is a staunch atheist).
At some point in the evening, I asked him where he was from. He informed me that he was ‘a man of Kent’. I took this as a purely factual answer. He was describing himself as a man from Kent, in the same way that I might have described myself as a girl from Gateshead. I thought it was a literal description, nothing more.
“I am a Man of Kent” was how he described himself to everyone. He never said, “I’m from Kent” or “I come from Medway.” When someone asked where he was from, he would always proudly announce, “I am a Man of Kent.” If someone queried his rather grand way of stating from whence he came, he would explain further; he was a ‘Man of Kent’ because he came from east of the River Medway. Women from east of the Medway are known as ‘Maids of Kent’. Someone from west of the river Medway, on the other hand, was known as a ‘Kentish Man’ or ‘Kentish Maid’.
The Man of Kent insisted that this distinction was very important. I could understand that. It sounded a bit like the difference between a Geordie and a Mackem. Or a Geordie and a Smoggie. Or any of the other important regional distinctions back home in the North East, where I come from.
Several years later, I married this particular Man of Kent, and we moved into a tiny house in Gillingham, which is east of the Medway. I think that might make me a Maid of Kent by marriage. It definitely makes me a Medway Geordie, anyway.
And that, dear reader, is the story of how I met my husband. It’s also why I refer to him as ‘The Man of Kent’ on this blog.
But how did this distinction between ‘Man of Kent’ and ‘Kentish Man’ come about? I never doubted the Man of Kent’s explanation, but recently I thought I’d look into the history of it myself. What I found were several different theories, a bit of Victorian argy-bargy, and a grand legend that I’d never heard of before – and neither had the Man of Kent himself!
And Now For Something Completely Different: 12 Favourite Podcasts to Celebrate International Podcast Day
“After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.”
– Philip Pullman
I remember the first podcast I ever listened to. It was season 1 of Serial, the OG true crime podcast by Sarah Koenig. Serial was an in-depth investigation by Koenig of a real case – the killing of American high school student, Hae Min Lee, and the conviction of Adnan Syed for her murder. It was groundbreaking listening and the evidence unearthed during the investigation led to a retrial for Syed, who by that time had served over 20 years in prison.
Serial was recommended to me by my friend Helen and, like most listeners, I was gripped. I listened to it in a whole week on my commute to London, changing my mind about what happened, who was telling the truth, and who was guilty, about ten times an episode. Sometimes I found myself deliberately walking slowly to the office so that I could finish a whole episode before I got there. I’ve since recommended Serial to friends who have found it equally compelling. One friend even had to give up listening to it on the bus to work because he found himself so engrossed that he kept missing his stop!
I’ve gotten really into podcasts since then. They keep me company in all sorts of situations. Listening to a podcast is a great distraction from the drudgery of housework. It’s also an ideal accompaniment to DIY – I find listening to music too distracting if I’m trying to concentrate on something, but I can paint for hours non-stop if I’m following a fascinating discussion or story. A good podcast is also perfect company on a commute to work, long travel journey or while doing tedious life admin like filing or shredding.
It’s International Podcast Day on 30 September so, to celebrate a phenomenon that has brought me many hours of top-notch earfood, I wanted to share some of my favourites with you. Read on for recommendations and some podcast episodes involving Kent!
A note: I’ve included links to each podcast on Spotify, but you can find most of them on Apple podcasts, BBC Sounds, Acast and other streaming platforms.
Bison and Foxes and Bears, Oh My! Visiting wonderful Wildwood
“Animals arrived, liked the look of the place, took up their quarters, settled down, spread and flourished. They didn’t bother themselves about the past – they never do; they’re too busy. The place was a bit humpy and hillocky, naturally, and full of holes; but that was rather an advantage.”
Kenneth Grahame, ‘The Wind in the Willows’
I’m trying to take a photo of a wallaby. It’s hiding in some tall grass, but I can see its furry ears and tail sticking out. There’s actually three wallabies in front of me, and they are doing a great job of making it almost impossible to get a decent picture. The weather is roasting hot, so two of them are sensibly sitting in the shade, and this third one is playing hide-and-seek with me. Patience is the key to good photography, but being a pale, red-haired Northerner, I can’t last more than five minutes in high heat without crumbling into dust. I settled for this silhouette photo of the wallaby in the grass, and headed to the nearest shade to recover.
A wallaby hiding behind tall grass at Wildwood.
I know what you’re thinking. Wallabies and baking hot temperatures? She must have been in Australia!
But I wasn’t. I was in Kent.
That’s right, there are wallabies living in Kent.
And bears. And bison. And wolves!
And all of these animals live in the beautiful surroundings of Wildwood, near Canterbury.
The Nao Victoria: A maritime marvel comes to Medway
“I was the first to sail around the globe, I am deservedly called Victoria, My sails are my wings, My reward, glory, My struggle, the sea.”
Loose translation of a legend on Ortelius’s 1590 map showing the Nao Victoria.
You know how sometimes you come across something and think, ‘Wow, what a cool job!’ Well, the crew of the Nao Victoria has a very cool job; sailing a replica of the first ship to circumnavigate the globe on a European tour. Doesn’t that sound great? Definitely more fun than sitting at a desk all day. The Nao Victoria has so far stopped at Great Yarmouth, Brixham and Plymouth, and last weekend, it made its first ever stop at Chatham Marina.
Me: “I might write a blog about the puffins. Working title: ‘Our Feathered Friends in the North’.”
The Man of Kent: “I was thinking, ‘We’re off to see the puffins, the magical puffins of Farne.’ But ‘Our Feathered Friends in the North’ is good too.”
Tynemouth, June 2024
Pleasingly musical though the Man of Kent’s suggestion was, I decided to stick with my idea. He was on to something with the word ‘magical’ though.
The scene of our conversation was Platform 2 craft ale bar at Tynemouth Metro station. The Man of Kent and I were on one of our regular pilgrimages to the North to visit our lovely family and friends there, and had stopped for a pre-dinner beverage. Usually we stay in Newcastle city centre but this time, we decided to stay in Tynemouth for a whole week, because it was June and the Man of Kent fancied a bit of summer at the seaside.
[Brief aside – the collection of micropubs that live on the platforms at Tynemouth, Whitley Bay and Monkseaton metro stations delight the Man of Kent whenever we go to the North East coast. If you’re in the area, do try out the Left Luggage Room at Monkseaton and The Ticket Office at Whitley Bay, as well as Platform 2.]
It was our last evening in Tynemouth, and we were talking about all the things we had done on our trip. One of the highlights had been our visit to the Farne Islands. Going to the Farne Islands to see the puffins had been a long-held ambition of the Man of Kent. Indeed, it was one of the things he was determined to do on this trip North. Normally I would hesitate to use the word ‘magical’ to describe something, preferring to reserve the word for things that truly deserve the meaning of it, but honestly? The puffins were exactly that. So today, here’s a whole post about the magical puffins of Farne.
Done: Deal – A handy guide to this beautiful seaside town
“Sunny and bracing.”
“It’s definitely sunny and bracing,” I said – or rather shouted – to the Man of Kent, as we walked along Deal pier, being shunted this way and that by the wind, cheeks buffed pink and noses streaming. On our left, iron grey storm clouds loomed ominously over the town; to the right, jewel-blue skies and bright March sunshine. It was almost all the weather all at once – or as some might say, a typical Spring day in England.
We were in Deal to celebrate our anniversary. The weather was nippy on the Kent coast that weekend, but tropical compared to our wedding day in Northumberland eleven years ago, when the temperature was zero degrees Celsius and half the country was covered in snow. The conditions were a bit of a shock for the Southern contingent of wedding guests, who were not comforted by locals telling them that, “This time last year it was 20 degrees here.” We hold The Man of Kent’s Dad partly responsible for the arctic wedding weather. Upon being informed that we had set a date for March, he nodded and gravely remarked, “It has been known to snow in March.” Fate clearly heard that temptation, and couldn’t resist. On every wedding anniversary since, we’ve done something special to mark the occasion, regardless of weather.
Deal is one of the prettiest seaside towns in Kent. It was once a fortified cinque port, an important part of England’s defences against invasion, and a favoured haunt of smugglers. Nowadays, it’s home to quirky independent shops, excellent restaurants and pubs, and a handful of unusual museums. There’s enough things to do to fill a couple of days, but not so many that you feel like you have to rush to cram everything in, making it ideal for a weekend getaway. Deal is super dog-friendly too; almost every shop and pub has a jar of dog treats on the counter for its canine customers.
Posters from the golden age of travel painted Deal as an ideal holiday destination. Deal still lives up to those expectations today, with its gently bustling high street and seafront, and miles of gorgeous sea view. On a clear day, you can even see France from the pier! Its beautiful coastline has been painted by famous artists including L.S. Lowry and J.M.W Turner. The town has also featured in movies and hit TV dramas, including Liar, Vanity Fair, and The Electrical Life of Louis Wain.
I’ve been to Deal three times now, and each trip has been a delight. If you’ve not been yet, here’s a little guide to things to do and places to go for food and drink. Enjoy!
For, now De Ruyter’s topsails Off naked Chatham show, We dare not meet him with our fleet – And this the Dutchmen know!
Rudyard Kipling, ‘The Dutch in the Medway’
Happy World Poetry Day! What better time to do a spot of research into poems about Medway? I couldn’t think of any poems about Medway – or Kent for that matter – off the top of my head, but I was pleased to discover that its history has inspired many famous writers! Today, I’ve picked out a poem by Rudyard Kipling. This one sparked my interest because it’s about the Dutch raid on the River Medway in June 1667, which I’ve written about before.
