Sandling Station

No I had never heard of it either and yet it is between Folkestone and Ashford International, both of which everyone has heard of. So there we were at Sandling Station, not far from Hythe. Gordon parked the car whilst I bought the tickets - yes it has a Ticket Office and a waiting room with sofas (“the heating’s on” I was told). And, after stopping at every station along the way, we arrived in Central London at London Bridge.

We were only doing this as a kind of experiment, but were so pleased that our daughter was able to meet us and she proceeded to take us for brunch close by, which was excellent. And our son-in-law took time out of his nearby office to join us for coffee (see extra).

Our daughter joined us on a visit to the Imperial War Museum. How she manages to get us to the right bus stop, to get the right bus that stops outside the gate, wherever we want to go, never fails to amaze me. One reason for going there was to see the commissioned painting completed by the winner of the Landscape Artist of the Year, only to find it wasn’t there as had been said, but in Salford. Oh dear! I should have checked, but apparently I wasn’t the only one to have been misled. Anyway we had an interesting couple of hours, mainly spent in a series of exhibitions to do with life after the First World War - Making a New World. As I am planning to write about various females in our ancestry who had to pick up the pieces in the aftermath, I was fascinated with the photographs and installations.

Then we caught the bus and the train and we were eventually back at . . .  Sandling Station.