Sandling is a proper railway station. When you alight and the train departs, you are often the only person left on the platform. There is a sense of distance from anywhere else, of the magical silence which can be created if only the bullying authorities who insist on ‘see it say it sorted’ would shut up and let us daydream when we travel. If they are so concerned with bombs and explosions then perhaps more time should be spent telling British arms manufacturers to desist from selling high explosives to Saudi Arabia which are then used to blow up innocent people in Yemen. How many dead are there? See it, say it, sorted it indeed, as long as it doesn’t reference faraway people in faraway lands. What could any of that have to do with England apart from the profits of bombs and weapons making companies?
I leave the train at Sandling station. It seems curiously quiet and still. I have passed this station hundreds of times and never noticed it. Now I have the opportunity to admire it’s Tudor-Beathan architecture and the rather pleasant surroundings.
The forecast is for a breezy, sun filled, blue sky day with a temperature of about 10 degrees. Why is this almost perfect? Because the breeze will scud up the waves of the Channel, it’s been grey lately and a blue sky with a hint of sun will be welcome. And the temperature for a long walk is not too cold and not too hot.
St Martin’s church is discovered which looks as if the tower – almost Italian Renaissance in a strange sort of way – might be made of concrete. I hope it is as it can be a versatile and interesting building material.