Finally the days are beginning to lengthen and after my misadventures with Waltham Forest Borough Council, I decided that this week's walk was going to not involve anything to do with London and it was therefore time to start to venture out further afield. Being the adventurous type, I unfurled the map across the campaign table at roblog HQ, and aimed for the furthest place I could get to. After I had overslept. Again.

After a quick calculation, I determined that I could probably walk for 5 hours and as the sun set at 17.30 and it was then 11.30, the furthest I could really get to was Essex. Or Kent. I thought about that for a while then decided that although I was going to be charged 2 quid to go to Kent across the Dartford crossing, I actually fancied feeling the Kentish mud beneath my feet. it had been a while.

So, after a quick flick throught the book of Kent Walks (I don't have one for Essex, making more of a case for Kent) I decided upon a walk around Penshurst. It looked quite a nice one, as not only did it look like it was going to a good route, but also I could revisit places that I hadn't been to for a while, such as Hever, Chiddingstone and of course Penshurst itself. It was a 12 mile walk, so a little shorter than my usual, but it was good to get out of London and walk somewhere new. Well... newish.

I got there in about the hour I'd figured it would take me, and I parked up in the village centre. It's amazing how much a whopping great parking fine makes you check and double check, so I made sure there was no possibilty I was going to get my car towed this week. I must have looked like a right old London tosser checking for parking restrictions in a village with 9 or 10 (rather lovely) houses. Once I'd convinced myself that all was well, I then set off on the stroll around some beautiful Kent countryside.

It's a nice route, taking in 2 or 3 crossings of the River Eden. The area is rich with historical connections, as Hever Castle is the seat of the Bullen family and it is there, so the story goes, that Henry VIII fell in love with Anne Bullen, or Boleyn, which of course lead to the establishment of the Church of England and also to Anne's untimely death on the scaffold. Chiddingstone, is also delightful, with it's beautiful old houses and it's stunning church. The scenery was superb and I was so happy to see some snowdrops on the way.

As I walked, I couldn't help but notice a feeling that I find difficult to put into words. The nearest I can put it is that I had an incredible sense of feeling "at home". I'm not sure where it came from, but I'm guessing that growing up in Kent has left me all these years later with the feeling that it's still home. Funny enough, I've lived in London for 13 years now, which is the longest I've lived anywhere. But I still don't think I've put roots down here. I'm not sure I will. But I suppose I've not really given it time anyway. Up until I bought my house, I'd moved on average about once a year, managing to live in Ealing, Shepherds Bush, Ealing again, Marylebone, Belsize Park, Camden, Golders Green, Winchmore Hill and finally here in East Ham. It's not bad here, and I do grow more fond of it day by day, but I can't see myself staying here. Although given my capacity for laziness you never know. But as I've said in a
previous post, London is a varied city. So, although there are common aspects about living here that are shared, each place really is different.

So it seems that I've got a long way to go to match my nearly 20 years I spent in Margate and Ramsgate in my home county of Kent. And naturally, throughout the years, I came to see a fair bit of the places in and around the county. There are many beautiful places in Kent spread right across the county. Many of them have real significance for me as I grew up to become the man I am today. I've got so many pleasurable memories of happy family days out, or Sunday afternoon walks with my dad and family holidays at my grandparents.

I'm coming to realise that deep down that such things are important to me. I'll readily admit I'm a sentimental person, but I don't think that's such a bad thing. It's nice to know your roots and more importantly, it's nice to be able to return to them once in a while. It doesn't mean that I want to live in the past. That would be foolish of course. In fact, I think the opposite is true as I think you are the sum of your experiences in life. Without new experiences, one cannot grow. But I think, for me at least, it's important to know where you are from, and who you are, and learn from past experiences.

So as I walked through Kent countryside, I decided I was well overdue to go for a walk with the old man. Arrangements will be made. I'm sure it won't be in Kent, but it's the Kent countryside that reminded me to do so. I'm off to Stanfords to get some ideas.