We took the Ashford bus out of Canterbury station, getting off at the bottom of Howfield Lane, and walking up the hill to the Hatch. It was a overcast day, threatening rain, but warm enough to take off my jacket. The lane was busier than I remembered but comfortably familiar with the high hedges on every side, fruit orchards and wet lush fields ready to burst with flowers behind this wall of green. Grandpop's old brick house, 1 Primrose Villa, soon came into view and memories flooded me as I looked up at it. I could see in my mind the outhouse standing invitingly behind the kitchen window, the old shed full of rusting tools and cans of nails, the small potato garden and the leafy plum tree near the walkway. The very last time I saw my grandfather was in 1966, shortly before he died, after spending the summer of my 16th year with him. We cheered wildly that July when England won the World Cup, sitting together around his tiny back and white TV as Geoff Hurst scored three times and England beat West Germany 4-2. I was living in France then so in September had to return to the continent and back to school. I shall always remember the last sight of Grandpop, crying and looking frail and lonely leaning on his cane, as I waved goodbye and set out to catch the coach back to Canterbury. It has been one of those indelible memories imprinted on my mind...
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| walking up Howfield lane |
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| Across from 1 Primrose Villa |
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the old corner store
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| Chartham Hatch Village Hall (former village primary school) |
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| Marie and holly bush, Bigbury road |
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| Bigbury woods |
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| Remembering |
Before leaving Canada I had received an email from a long forgotten friend who had seen a blog I was doing about my life in Europe and remembered me. Her name then was Jean Bradley, now Cutting, and we immediately made plans to meet when I visited Chartham Hatch. Marie and I had the morning to explore and revisit some of the places I played as a child before getting together with Jean in the afternoon. We continued then up the lane to where the corner store used to be. It was here I would buy my ice creams and stamps for Grandpop. There are no more stores in the Hatch but you can still get a pint of beer and a light lunch at Chapter Arms, the inn a few minutes walk away. It was spitting rain then so we stopped there for a beer and something to eat. The oast house, where the hops were brewed, was nearby so we went over to take a few pictures. I also wanted to walk about Bigbury wood where I used to play in the heather and gathered hazel nuts from the woods, but most of that was gone now. We were waiting for the arrival of Jean for 2pm at the old primary school I had attended for a year and when she stepped out of her car I recognized her immediately! It was a great reunion - she had even brought for me a souvenir book and DVD about the history of the Hatch. We visited her mother Jessy, the oldest resident on the Hatch at 95, and had a nice chat about my grandparents whom she remembered. Afterwards Jean drove us down the hill to Chartham where we said goodbye. It was here Mom and Dad were married in 1948 and I was baptized in 1950 at the beautiful old St Mary's church. I have a painting of the church Mom had given me years ago that I cherish. I will post this visit tomorrow, before we say farewell to Canterbury and head west to Salisbury.
gws
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| Chapter Arms |
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| hoppers oast house, Hatch Lane |
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| Me and Jean Cutting (Bradley) |
