Part of the reason I've not been posting here is because I have a Facebook Group for the Black Country area that I come from and the membership suddenly took off from around 100 to well over 2,000 members.
We have had some amazing memories and photos but it does take a fair amount of administering and dealing with the misunderstandings that have caused little squabbles. Mostly healed over, apart from one nasty piece of work, who for years has been upsetting all and sundry if they publish anything online from the area, as he seems to believe he's got sole rights to memories and photos and even family trees. I guessed he'd be poking his nose in before long, only he's crossed swords with me before and knew I wasn't going to give in to his petty bullying, so he thought he'd have a go at a valuable contributor in the Group.
Turns out another successful Facebook Local History Group has had the same problem with this nasty little man. I really don't know how people can be so unpleasant.
Anyway, that is why I have had little time to write here lately.
So, back to the trip, after our stop off at Beachy Head, we carried on to Folkestone, where the Site was large and good facilities and the largest, tamest Rabbits I've ever seen. Other sites, they come out at night but here, they are around all day.
(A reminder, if you click on the photos, you can see them full size)
We took a bus trip into Folkestone and had a walk around. Enjoyed the Cliff Railway and a walk around the harbour, met a lovely Eagle Owl and a Snowy Owl. Not a lot more to say really. It was a town, like so many others.
We also saw the Hotel we don't ever want to stay at.
The bus trip back as always was tricky as with a new place, you don't know where the returning bus stop is. Unless you are clever and sussed it out before hand. Trouble is, you have to press the stop bell, which we did as we entered the village where we were staying and there was another stop right by where Mike pressed the bell. The driver did an emergency stop and everyone retrieved their shopping and climbed back into their seats.
Well, what are you going to do? Say, oh sorry, we wanted the one 300 yards up the road? No. Of course not. So we got off and found ourselves outside the village pub. Well, it would be rude not to go in and that was how we met Jack, the tiniest and most loveable little puppy. The Landlord had been in another pub and a Gypsy came in, offering it (the puppy) around, for £200. He told me, there was no way the pup was going back out with her, as it was obviously too young to have left it's Mum and that is how Jack was there. He very nearly didn't stay there, I was very tempted to sneak him up my jumper.
No comments:
Post a Comment