La De Dodd Farm: Day 3 Dymchurch to Manchester

The Sycamore House offered a full English breakfast this morning. I was so full from last night's Indian food (and no I didn't eat all of it) I could barely touch my breakfast. I sat at a community table with three couples (who were part of a group of seventeen family members, staying down the road. Two words and one number. Hedge Fund, 29. They probably had no clue they were staying at Edith Nesbit's house, let alone her books. I was reminded of "The Red House." She could have written about them, and not fondly. I shouldn't be so rude. They were pleasant enough. I've been taking these homeopathic calm lozenges- Keep Calm and Carry On.

The strangest thing happened in my room this morning, which brought me to ask the owner about ghost activity. He laughed whole heartedly and said, "no." I took a bath last night, had slightly damp towels. This morning the towels were soaking wet. I had to ring them out. I looked around and there was no reason for them to be so wet. Coincidence? I think not.

The Dymchurch church is across the street from Edith's home. And, across from the church is the Rectory (just like in Five Children and It). I couldn't find her tomb stone. Later, I remembered she is buried at St. Mary's of the Marsh. And, that is alright- she didn't want a marker anyway. The marker was created years after her death.

I went to Mary's Tea Room, a charming, true English Tea House. I asked for the traditional Kent Cream Tea, which means scones (one plain and one with raisins) with cream and jam and tea. In Kent the cream is a single cream, more like whipped cream. The traditional cream is clotted. Mary is a traditionalist and it was delicious. For some reason I said, "oh my gosh" upon walking in and when she brought the scones. Mary gave a little laugh both times. A dishevelled man came into the kitchen, from the back. Really disheveled hair all a mess and showing his bum in the back. Mary turns around and fixed his shirt.

I walked down to the beach. Teenagers went into the freezing water, screaming. It was frigid. Really funny to see girls in bikinis while I'm wearing a light sweater. One of the boys to another, "Basil do it. Come on James. Why did you put your shorts on then? Come on you haven't been in since you were seven. There were a lot of things you didn't like when you were seven. I bet you didn't like string beans. Come on James." Later, I see two women walking two Shih Tzu and a Bichon. One excitedly pees and the owner says, "that's a long piddle."

I went to a thrift store in Dymchurch. I walked in and asked an elderly lady if I could store my luggage while I shopped. She said, "that is fine, should I take it?" I said, "yes, please- I'll be quick." Five minutes later, she came out and said, "Are you sure you want me to take this?" I looked into the room, and she has emptied my carry on and half of my suitcase. I realized we're standing in the donation room. We both looked at each other and said, "oh, no." I haven't unpacked yet, but I think I have an extra sweater.

I've found the English enjoy my accent as much as I enjoy theirs.

Dymchurch to Manchester- 1 bus, three trains and 1 tube (4 hrs. on a Saturday)

Looks in the London train station-
-girls with dark hair dyed red
-cut off jeans with black tights
-top knots are still huge
-sequins as casual wear ie, sequin skirt of sequin top
-T strap flats
-overalls with cinched waist
-Rosie the Riveter bandana in hair
-ankle boots with everything
-long hair pulled over one shoulder with a thin braid on one side over the ear and pinned in the back
-a little girl with a pull along stuffed My Little Pony (fab with sequin horse hoofs and rainbow skirt). It must have been Rainbow Dash.