Local Heart, Global Soul

February 3, 2017

A Good Way To Gear Up For A Difficult Day…

Filed under: Accomodation,ENGLAND,Folkestone,PHOTOGRAPHY — kiwidutch @ 1:00 am
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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Wards Hotel in Folkestone, England was the place that Himself and I selected to be our accommodation when we needed to be in the city for the funeral of a friend.

The friends widow was also located close by, in a house that the couple had moved to in a down-sizing exercise once it became clear that the husbands cancer was inoperable and his life expectancy was short.

We also found out that  due to the large number of attendees at the funeral, the wake would also take place in the Wards Hotel.

The hotel staff start preparing things soon after the breakfast guests have finished having breakfast. Himself and I chose to have hot typically “English” breakfast, Himself having the plate with the mushroom,  I have the one without since I am allergic to them.

After breakfast we are of course busy with funeral related activities for the day:  the church service, then the graveside one, the wake, and later in the evening, a visit to see our friend’s widow because we need to leave early the following morning to head back to the Netherlands.  The breakfast is nice, we especially enjoy it because it is so different to a typical Dutch bread based one and a treat. It’s not the sort of thing that would be healthy to have on a daily basis but as a special indulgence… well, a little bacon and egg is a good way to gear up for a difficult day.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

February 2, 2017

Wards Hotel, A Restful Spot To Spend Our Stay…

Filed under: Accomodation,ENGLAND,Folkestone,PHOTOGRAPHY — kiwidutch @ 1:00 am
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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Last year Himself and I crossed the English Cannel via the Channel Tunnel in order to attend the funeral of a friend.

In the past when we came to Folkestone we would stay with these friends, but on this occasion, with the husband having passed away, the wife is busy hosting family who have travelled from outside the region.

Also, they no longer have the massive house that they raised their six children in, having downsized to a smaller place since our last visit after it became clear that his cancer was in an advanced stage and that nothing more medically could be done.

We hear that the new house is packed with guests, many sleeping on the floor and added to that, there are a constant stream of visitors because her husband was active in many aspects of not only the local community but also in a small but UK wide specialist organisation as well.

Our accommodation whilst we are here is the Wards Hotel, handily located just a street or two away from our friends home. The bedrooms are on the first floor and there is no lift, but luckily I will only have to use the stairs once each way per day. This a family run hotel, the family and the staff are friendly and as is often the case in the UK and western European hotels these days, many of the staff are made up of eastern European migrant workers.

Our room is on the quiet side of the hotel (not facing the road) therefore there is no view to speak of, just an interesting piece of roof line from another part of the building. There is an attached bathroom and whist the room is not huge, it is definitely big enough for our needs. The location is in a quiet street off one of the main roads in one of the older established neighbourhoods of Folkestone, it’s leafy and remarkably quiet. Tired from our journey here, Himself fetches fish and chips from a local take-a-way and after a picnic dinner in our room we get an early night.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

May 15, 2015

Breakfast And A Radiant Day For A Wedding …But Is It?

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Family Kiwidutch have arrived in Ely in England for a family wedding. Himself’s cousin has arranged a booking in a Travelodge close by so that three families coming from the Netherlands could all stay in the one hotel.

The hotel was undergoing extensive renovations during our stay so all of the hallways were covered with plastic sheeting and there were scaffolds in various places because they were busy painting the ceilings.

“Reception” was in a portacabin in the parking area out the front of the hotel but at least all of the staff were very friendly and most apologetic for the inconvenience of the renovations.

Luckily Mark’s cousin, knowing about my asthma problem had pointed out that fresh paint would be a problem, so they arranged that our room would be right at the end of one of the wings as that section had been painted first, in the previous week and they also aired the room as much as possible before we arrived.

It meant a long walk to our room and a very long walk to the other family members who’s rooms were at the extreme end of the opposite wing, so knowing I would see plenty of them at the wedding, I opted to stay and rest in our room and let Himself and the kids go backwards and forwards to see rest of the family in their rooms.

Right next door to the hotel were several fast food restaurants and we all arranged to meet for breakfast the next day at the “Little Chef” next door. Little Mr was delighted with the single portion servings of cereal,  Kiwi Daughter  adores maple syrup so pounced on the pancakes and Himself and I went for a cooked breakfast.

Afterwards my sister in law , cousins and families visited our room before we all departed for the wedding, ladies sharing make-up tips and making sure that husbands and children were suitably presentable.

The weather as we got ready that morning was wonderful, bright blue and not a cloud in the sky. Himself and I even  wrote in the wedding card, mentioning that they had fabulous weather for their wedding… but an hour and a half later as we left the hotel we all got a surprise as we stepped outside, the skies were suddenly grey and ominously dark, and everyone had been so absorbed in conversation that no one had even noticed the change…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

November 20, 2014

Some Who Go Walkies, Also Take The Train…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We are finally back in Folkestone,  and although we didn’t originally have a place to stay planned for the night before our channel tunnel crossing back in the summer of 2013, we found the Little Satmar camp-site so easy, friendly and convenient that we rang  two days ahead and asked if they had a spot for us, and when they said they did, booked it immediately.

We had to be up bright and early for the channel train the next day so it was a dawn breakfast and we were just driving out just as the first campers were emerging from tents and caravans and making for the showers.There was a haze around camp as the sun came up so I attempted some arty photographs of some parked up bicycles … and failed. Within the hour we join the queues at the train, where it’s already surprisingly busy and seriously warm, in fact it turns out to be 29 C (84.2 F) and we have blue cloudless skies for the trip back.

From the loading area waiting for the train we have a brilliant view of the chalk outline of the horse on the hill by Folkestone and  the kids giggle at the dog walking and toilet area marked “Walkies”, complete with big bone gateway. Again we are sorted into a queue with the other high vehicles and board the train. The passport control is easy enough, they are asking a lot of questions so it takes longer but they are friendly enough. That said it’s strange to be speaking French again, takes a few minutes to switch. We have somewhere we want to stop off  at on the French side very soon so we need to get our  Continental brains working again…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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Out in France…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

 

 

November 12, 2014

An Invitation From Strangers… A Wonderful Surprise…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

In 2013 Family Kiwidutch hired a camper and headed over the channel to England’s south coast.

We had booked ourselves an eco-camp site at the Kingsmead Centre in Devon, the facilities are basic but the bonus is that there is peace and quiet in abundance and all of the activities are very much connected to nature.

As outlines in my post of yesterday, this is the moment in our trip where I realised that I wasn’t really coping with the pain to my foot injury after all of my additional exercise.

My Dutch physiotherapist had said that if I was doing a lot of strenuous activity then I could take up to eight paracetamol per day, but by now I was getting worried because I was taking eight paracetamol on top of my usual pain relief, every single day and still had serious pain that was difficult to cope with.

I’d slept most of the late afternoon in the camper, whilst Himself, Little Mr and Kiwi Daughter  explored the camp site, ate a fish and chip dinner and made some new friends. Himself had checked several times earlier and found me asleep, but by mid evening I was awake and he had a surprise for me. He had gotten chatting with some other people around the camp site, our children had peeled off with other kids and then we received an invitation.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

One of the other families decided that they wanted to experience a long weekend of “glamping” which is literally “glamorous camping” and  this involved renting the Kingsmead site’s most luxurious accommodation: a Yert.

Family Kiwidutch now had an invitation to join this family for a drink and a chat and since Himself had explained that the short distance down the hill was beyond my physical capabilities, and that the narrow track looked too small for our large camper, the invitation came with an offer of transportation there and back in their car.

The journey was one of the shortest car journeys I have made in my life, but the track was steep, and the terrain slippery with wet leaves and mud from the recent rain, so I was very appreciative for the offer.

I’d never seen a Yert up close… it’s large circular tent and this couple had saved up to have a special birthday treat for the weekend. We even got a guided tour and photographs were encouraged as we shared their excitement of this special occasion.

It’s available to rent from Spring to Autumn but is taken down for the Winter.

The children had been playing together wonderfully and continued to burn off energy running around close by, the trees and everything around, everything they needed in their imaginative games. We adults sat in chairs outside, enjoying the balmy summer evening and talking about jobs, hobbies and how life differed in England to the Netherlands. Afterwards I was transported back to the camper via their personalised “taxi” service and felt  better for the distraction of some friendly  hospitality. They were fabulous people and it was so unexpected to receive an invite like this from strangers. It’s moments like this that really make a trip special.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

November 11, 2014

Kingsmead Centre: A Very Different Type Of Camp-site…

Filed under: Accomodation,Devon,ENGLAND,Kingsmead Centre,PHOTOGRAPHY,South Coast — kiwidutch @ 1:00 am
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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

In the summer of 2013 we tried a very new style of camping for us: Eco-camping.

The Kingsmead Centre on the Somerset / Devon border is the kind of camp site you go to if you want to get away from the crowd,  far, far away from the crowd.

There are no heated swimming pools, disco’s, on-site restaurants, kid’s club, television room or children’s playground.

Actually I take that back: the children’s playground is Mother Nature and consists of grass, trees, and things like fishing, walking and mucking round outdoors.

There are basic amenities: toilet, shower, laundry, as well as recycling facilities and high-speed internet, but for the rest it’s the kind of place you come to if peace and quiet are your thing, far from the madding crowd.

After our rather messy arrival, via what seemed every narrow side lane in the area, we are pleased to have arrived. The owner tells us that there is a pub a very short walk further down the lane, so we walk there to see if we can stake out and easy dinner. Technically it’s not far but I’m more than disappointed to find that the pub is closed tonight and instead of a nice sit down, I have to walk back.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Himself asks if he should go an fetch he camper and I say “No”, something I deeply regret by the time we get back to the camp site.  There is a public walkway next to the lane, Himself dares the kids to walk alongside us through the trees, but the forest is too creepy for our children to brave, even if Himself and I remain within view.

I think they are right, these trees look downright spooky.

My foot injury is not in good shape after pushing myself to do  so much walking this trip and it’s here at the Kingsmead Centre that it starts to dawn on me that the increased pain I’m experiencing is getting increasingly out of hand.

I’m not actually up to walking anywhere  any more and even though it’s later afternoon, retreat to bed with as many painkillers as I’m allowed, having lost my appetite for dinner.

Himself takes the kids on a ramble around the camp so that I can get a decent nap and hopefully sleep off the worst of the pain. Whilst I sleep, the rest of the family run into the owner of the camp-site  and they chat about using the facilities etc. During the conversation Himself mentions my situation and wonders if there is a shop or takeaway within cycling distance where he and the kids can go to get dinner for themselves without disturbing me. There isn’t, but the owner has a brainwave:  his wife works in one of the towns some distance away and he can ring her and ask if  as she leaves work she could please pop into a fish and chip shop and bring our family some dinner and Himself can pay her on delivery.

It’s a generous and kind solution which we appreciate. During my nap Himself and the kids also make a few new friends and when some hours later Himself comes in to check on me, finds me awake, fills me in on the news about how they managed to get dinner and announces he has another nice surprise…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

kingsmead centre 1l (Small)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Kingsmead Centre,

  • Clayhidon, Cullompton, Devon, England, EX15 3TR, United Kingdom.

 

October 15, 2014

Friendly Helpful Owners And Happy Campers!…

Filed under: Accomodation,ENGLAND,PHOTOGRAPHY,Salisbury,South Coast — kiwidutch @ 1:00 am
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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Last summer Family Kiwidutch hired a camper and headed off across the channel for new adventures along England’s south coast.

After a short stay in the New Forest and then a small detour inland to Stonehenge, we are ready to park up for the night, so with the aid of  Our Lady of The Tom Tom, we make our way to the “Stonehenge Touring Park” camp site.

On arrival we are delighted to find that the site boasts a little shop, where, as you do, we entered with a shopping list that consisted of spaghetti, pasta sauce and salad greens and exited with a heavy duty camping torch and a tent that you take out of the packet, throw in the air and it pops out into a little tent all by itself.

If you guessed that Little Mr tagged along for the shopping trip and twisted our arms for goodies on his own wish list (definitely not salad greens), you’d have guessed right. As Himself and I cooked a pasta meal, Little Mr outfitted his little tent for the night: sleeping bag (check), pillow (check), cuddly toy (check), extra blanket  he insists on in case it’s cold, even though it’s the height of summer (check) a large pile of books (check), a not so small plastic storage box of Lego (check), one brand new heavy duty camping torch (check) … and then one irritating Mama (Moi)  who came and pointed out the minor practical details: the tent is tiny and he hasn’t actually left any room for the kid!

I also veto the Lego box, that has to stay inside the camper because I  foresee a lost trail of Lego bits at every stage of our journey and tears and tantrums (mine) when replacements are demanded.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

All but two of the books are also removed and enough space is freed up to accommodate the human being it was intended for. Little Mr assures us over and over that he will be sleeping in this little tent tonight ( but says the kid scared to death of the dark, wind and every creak, groan and rustle of nature, so I’m not holding out any hope that his bravery will continue after the sun goes down).

Outside we set up the folding table we bought with us and prepared for dinner and afterwards the kids spread out pencils, paper and paint and got busy on some creative artwork.

This drew the attention of a little girl who I will just call “B” from one of the nearby tents, she was about seven years old, spoke only Danish but was clearly curious.

I went over to her parents who were busy making dinner in their tent and asked if it was ok with them that their daughter joined our children to paint and they were a bit hesitant.

The parents were rather reserved types, not the sort to take up a conversation even though their English was very good, and they refused a later offer to share a glass of wine with Himself after dinner (I saw a wine bottle next to their meal so knew they drank alcohol)  but their daughter was an only child and clearly desperate for the company of other kids to play with, so after the father, with very few words came and inspected the art table, and said “Yes”.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Their daughter “B” was delighted and despite the language barrier we started to draw pictures and try and label them in Dutch, English (depending on which was the more simple word) and Danish.

Our children learned that the Danish word for “rainbow”  is  “regnbue” , so a rainbow drawing competition ensued, with a rather surreal result of way too many rainbows in their landscapes, but they had fun and Dali would have been proud.

“B” was called back to her tent for dinner, but afterwards gravitated back to the door of the camper, looking hopefully inside for our children.

Our kids had discovered a little shed by the front entrance of the camp-ground what was an information centre and book-swap library and were browsing for possible book treasure. One found, they ran back to get a book to swap.

Luckily we had a book that they had rather outgrown but had been somehow added to the pile, so it went back on into the library. The only problem was that the book was in Dutch, but hopefully one day in the future a Dutch child will be visiting and their eyes will light up when they find a book that they can understand.  With both our children back at the camper, the three of them played happily until the girls father came to tell her it was bedtime.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

It was clear that the parents were still sitting outside so Himself offered them a glass of wine, but the offer was declined in a few words and they went back to the tent.

The next morning whilst Himself and I packed up our gear , the girl played with our kids, she was a rather lonely soul and I felt sorry for her because she looked rather dejected when we left.

True to form, Little Mr chickened out of sleeping outside in the tent as soon as it got dark, Himself loves tenting and since it was up took his place.

We have found the owners here really friendly, the pitch we had  reserved before arrival was actually too small for our oversized camper so they improvised and set us up in an even better spot by a wall and arranged electricity so that we could run our fridge and lights as well.

We also discovered that these little tents might well pop out like magic when you take them out of their packets, but folding them back up is a devil of a job and in the end we gave up and just squashed it as flat as we could manage and stuffed it into the campers huge locker with the bikes. There was a tap a few meters away so the kids literally had “buckets of fun”whilst they helped Himself fill the camper’s water tanks and we had an excellent night’s sleep. Friendly helpful owners and us as happy campers…. Result!

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Stonehenge Touring Park
Orcheston
Salisbury
Wiltshire
SP3 4SH
United Kingdom

Tel: +44 (0) 1980 620304

October 6, 2014

Sandy Balls Is All “Mod Cons Camping” Compared To Anything I Know….

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Family Kiwidutch have finally arrived in the New Forest and at our accommodation for the next few days.

It’s the Sandy Balls Camp ground and whilst Himself and I would usually be the kind of people who prefer hiking out into the wilderness far away from crowds, it’s not a scenario idea when I have limited mobility on crutches and we two kids who feel the need for better entertainment than constantly squabbling with one another.

It’s a world away from any camping experience I’ve ever seen before,  in New Zealand as a kids I was used to just a tent, or even on occasion no tent at all, just a thin camping mat and sleeping bag under the southern hemisphere stars , running water in an ice cold mountain stream and kilometres of open space without another soul around.

It’s a shock to find that “camping” here comes with a heated swimming pool on site, activities galore, even restaurants and snack bars on the premises. Not only that, but there are not just a few rows of campers or tents like back in Folkestone, there are entire “neighbourhoods” of campers, caravans, tents and even some more of the semi permanent caravans. Almost next door to us there is even another Dutch family who have a daughter fractionally older than Kiwi Daughter but is who hesitant to mix with other kids because unlike our bilingual brood, or he much older brothers,  she doesn’t (yet) speak much English.

She’s quick to join our two and they go off to explore, leaving Himself and I to evaluate the damage to the camper more fully. The paintwork has been completely scratched off in places and Himself reports there are dents on the roof too. We resign ourselves to that fact that what is done is done and that we shouldn’t let it overshadow the rest of our holiday. The music can wait until we get back to the Netherlands.

Once again we are too lazy and tired to cook and decide on a simple meal of fish and chips, but first Himself hauls his bike out of the large internal compartment of the camper and rides off around this large complex to round up the kids who have warned us they can be found at the large playground they spotted on the way in.

I’ve already spotted several German car number plates as well as a Belgium and French one, so places like these international gathering places it seems.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

September 30, 2014

Our Very First Bash At Pitching Up With A Camper And Locals To The Rescue…

Filed under: Accomodation,Folkestone — kiwidutch @ 1:00 am
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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The camping park where we spent our first night in the UK  on our 2013 summer holiday was called “Little Satmar” and it’s located a short drive away from the top of the Dover cliff and hill behind Folkestone.

The signs can be a little hard to spot,  we had to look for a little lane off the main road first and once we’d found that we were fine finding the address.

There’s a large car parking area by Reception, a small shop for last minute essentials,  laundry facilities and friendly staff who get us checked in easily.

Our pitch is reasonably close to the toilet block, so easier for me to negotiate.

Our camper is so big it has an on-board toilet and shower but we quickly discover that just the toilet alone depletes the on-board water tank very quickly and lugging water to refill it is a tiresome job that lands squarely one Himself’s shoulders because of the weight of the buckets and the distance to the water supply. The toilet is has a small tank and would need emptying frequently if all four of us used it all the time.

I’m more than happy to take a morning shower in the toilet and shower block, and to walk to the toilet bloc during daylight hours: it’s the middle of the night stop for my water works that I’d prefer not to do around the camp-site in the dark on crutches. Therefore on the first night we decide to not bother using the shower in the camper at all, and that I would be the main user of the camper loo, and would restrict that to night-time necessities.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The kids could use it if they were desperate and couldn’t get to a toilet anywhere else, but otherwise they would have to use their legs so that Himself wasn’t on full time loo emptying duty as well as water replenishing duty.

Once again we realise that popping out for fish and chips is seriously impractical because Himself has set up the little tent outside, the large fold-out table, the bikes etc and the nearest fish and chip place is back in Folkestone so driving there would mean having to pack half of the stuff up again. For a while it looked like our fish and chip treat is off the menu but our Folkstone friends come to the rescue by suggesting that they pop out to visit us rather than via versa, and offered to fetch our fish and chips for us on their way out of town.

It was a perfect solution, we paid them for our meal when they arrived and  enjoyed our treat doubly because we were tired and hadn’t been looking forward to cooking. It was excellent to see our friends again, they  were getting busy to sell their big house and not everything was running smoothly, and added to this our terminally ill friend had had some ups and downs in his medical treatment progress so we had plenty to catch up on.

The camping ground isn’t only for tents, caravans and campers as I imagined, but there are also static caravans… actually they look more like little houses than caravans. It seems that people buy these and then pay a fee to park them here, (some are hired too) and return year after year to their little holiday homes. Some even have patios and beautiful flower gardens around them! It’s something I’ve never seen before and not something I expected in a “camping” place.

The camp is nice and quiet, our fellow campers are lovely, friendly and helpful: Kiwi Daughter rides a unicycle and the bolt that holds the peddles on broke, a fellow camper from the UK saw Himself rummaging though our very limited tools, overheard a disconsolate Kiwi Daughter being told that we didn’t have anything to fix it and offered to fix it for her.  She was delighted when these seasoned campers pulled out a serious tool kit and fixed it for her. It’s our very first stay (ever) at the camp site like this… lots of nationalities side by side and friendly. As holidays go, this is an excellent start.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

 

September 7, 2013

A Budget Room But Perfectly Adequate…

Filed under: Accomodation,Canterbury,ENGLAND,PHOTOGRAPHY — kiwidutch @ 1:00 am
Tags: , ,
(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Following Yesterday’s post, the Travel Lodge we have arrived at is a budget nondescript affair, but all we want to a bed  for the night as we have an early start tomorrow.

We go inside and take a look around… our family room consists of a double bed for Himself and I and a double sofa bed for the kids to share.  It’s basic but adequate.

Typical kids, Kiwi Daughter and Little Mr. try it on by immediately making themselves comfortable on the double bed  and wondering aloud where Himself and I are going to sleep?  … Nice try kids, but dream on. Now get your little behinds off my bed please.

Now that we have offloaded the suitcases the next most pressing problem for the kids is hunger.

We had a few snacks on our way down from Great Dunmow, intending to have a proper lunch when we arrived in Canterbury but between the long wait for Himself to find the tourist office and accommodation, the search for lavatories and then the hotel,  the afternoon completely slipped away on us and  lunch never happened so we are ravenous. Luckily there is the Little Chef restaurant close by across the car park and the kids are jumping up and down in their impatience to get there.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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