The place has a more urban vibe, but then most towns do compared to Buxton. What draws us to Trafford's finest (only) food court is the Great Northern Pie company's version of a steak and ale one, it is well worth the hour's drive.
Between brief periods of quiet pie appreciation conversation turned to the fact that Matthew rarely escaped out of London and had not been on holiday for three years. We discussed going camping together, he could take his tent, we would stay in the moho and provide the transport. At this point it was a vague aspiration rather than a plan. Over the next couple of weeks plans for an inexpensive short break somewhere outdoorsy in England morphed mysteriously into a quick dash to Normandy and the Loire, somewhat more alluring, but considerably more costly, particularly with diesel heading towards £2.00 per litre, but hey...it's only money.
But when? This proved as tricky a question as where. We arrived back from Spain sometime in the second week of April and plan to depart for Greece in the third week of August. Timings matter these days. We need a 90 day break between long trips, and in order to head off to Iberia next January we have to return to England by the end of October. Now contemplating a surprise visit to France, finding a week long window that wouldn't bugger-up our Autumn plans required very careful planning and much messing around with dates using an on-line Schengen calculator. The sweet spot looked to be 9th - 17th July, so we booked it, outwards Dover/Calais, homewards Dieppe/ Newhaven.
We decided to stop overnight on the way south at the Lee Valley site in North London so we could meet up with our other two offspring and pickup Matthew. Then we realised leaving a day earlier would coincide with Laura's birthday; we managed to be all together for a family birthday for the first time in decades.
We had a meal in an Italian place at Here East in Hackney Wick, then finished up with candles, cake and tuneless singing back at Sarah and Rob's who live nearby.
It was great. Laura, our youngest, now 27, how the hell did that happen?
Now we had a day to spare before our ferry crossing, so we stayed overnight in Canterbury New Dover Road park and ride.
It was late afternoon, we found a local Tesco's and did a bit of shopping, bought a few silly trinkets and a nice stripey picnic bag in Flying Tiger then set out to find somewhere to eat.
We recalled years ago once eating at a bar that specialised in Belgian beers in the old quarter by the Cathedral. We found the area but the place was long gone.
In fact over the ten years years or so since we were last here the area has changed a lot. Much more touristy, with a Harry Potterish vibe, a bit ridiculous. I guess throngs of American tourists are bussed here from the cruise ship terminal in Dover. It's never going to improve things. The restaurants seemed to have gone downhill too. The Italian place we used to eat at - Pinocchio's - still gets positive reviews, but it was quite a hike from where we were. We found a bench and consulted our phones. Canterbury seems to have developed a Turkish community, there were quite a few Levantine restaurants dotted about. The Olive Grove looked good, so we headed there. The place had an eastern Med vibe and menu. The decor was insane, a weird mixture of Turkish and Moroccan influences.
The food was good too, and the people waiting-on attentive and chatty
Back at the van we exchanged messages with Matthew finalising arrangements for tomorrow. We agreed he would head for Ashford International Station and we would park in a nearby car park next to the sports centre. Not a height barrier to be seen on Streetview. It would be simple, hopefully...
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