Yesterday (Wednesday) was the third day of our 3-day Kent Rover rail ticket, so although the weather was wet and chilly, we felt compelled to make use of it. We arrived at London Bridge station on the dot of 9:30 so as to benefit from cheap fares into Kent.

We had been thoroughly rained on during the journey to the station and it was altogether shaping up to be a miserable day but we kept out spirits up as best as we could.

We had a definite end in view and eventually achieved it but only after an initial hiccup. We were heading for Hythe and our plan was to take the Dover train and disembark in Sandling, where we could presumably take the bus to Hythe. Bad idea. When we emerged from the station, in heavy rain, we found it was well outside the town and, as far as we could see, there were no bus stops^*. So we set out bravely on foot for a wet and windy 30-minute hike which ended in the temporary respite of a coffee break in the Castle pub on the village green.

The high point of the wet walk was meeting the lamb pictured on the left. Sheep are usually nervous animals and run away from people but the sheep of Sandling seem unusually relaxed and actually came up to the fence to say hello. This little black lamb was very keen to meet us.

Having sought the advice of locals, we were able to catch a bus into Hythe. By then the sun was showing though the weather alternated sun and rain for the rest of the afternoon, becoming decidedly wet and miserable in the evening. This ornate drinking fountain caught my eye. It is rather beautiful.

Our destination was the Hythe station of the The Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway. This is a miniature steam railway that, despite its small size, carries passengers over a respectably large network. A ride on the steam train is a child's dream come true - even if the child is a grown-up one like me! The picture shows one of the scale model engines which is powerful enough to haul a long train of carriages. Very impressive.

The original plan was to travel the whole network, returning to Hythe but service was restricted so we had to make do with travelling the whole route from Hythe to Dungeness and then back from Dungeness only as far as Romney.

The train takes you through some beautiful and varied countryside, enough to keep me gawping happily, first on this side and then on the other. The train paused at Dungeness for quite a while, long enough to go to the little cafe and shop for tea and then spy out the countryside from the station platform. Dungeness at first sight seems a flat, bleak region, the last place city-dwellers like us would choose to live in, but there is also a strange charm and attraction about it. We must explore further.

Returning to Romney, we took a bus to Folkestone. A walk through the town - familiar to us since we spent Christmas here a couple of years ago - led us to the station where we caught a train back to London. Thus ended three days of Kent travels. We saw many interesting places and sights as well as adding to our list of destinations to explore in more detail another time.

Being an audio enthusiast, I thought I would share this fun little piece of history. Pre-World War II these guys started popping up across Europe to notify the military of incoming aircrafts. Unfortunantly the aircrafts became faster and eventually radar was created, completely making these giant acoustical mirrors obsolete.

More can be read here: Sound Mirrors

Reference: 1213868041

Our client is looking for a Site Manager at various locations.

Locations

Aldermarston, Hinkley, Devonport, Dounreay, Dungeness

Salary

According to experience

Job Responsibilities

 
Manage all of the activities on the site ensuring that all safety and quality requirements are complied with.

Reporting generally to the Construction and Site Services Manager and specifically, on project progress technical and budget matters to the Project Manager.

Tel: 01454 203 460

cv@energyrs.co.uk

Reference: 1213699637

ERS has a client looking for a Nuclear Site Manager in Construction and Site services.

Location

Dungeness

Salary

According to experience

Job Responsibilities

Manage all of the activities on the site ensuring that all safety and quality requirements are complied with. Reporting generally to the Construction and Site Services Manager and, specifically on project progress, technical and budget matters, to the Project Manager.

Tel: 01454 203 460 

cv@energyrs.co.uk

    I have only spent two Christmas seasons away from home. At twelve, I gazed out a light blue shuttered window, as rain approached my mother’s windward facing home in the Caribbean.   For the 2007 festive term, I spent many a morning gazing at the thick blanket of cloud that hung over a much colder island across the Atlantic Ocean, expecting more of the same.

     In the past, this is the time of year I would be getting up at 2 o’clock in the morning to voluntarily work the overnight shift at the radio station. This a quiet beautiful time of night in Toronto when- if Jack Frost is not on strike, stars and streetlights glint off snowy landscapes, and shadows blend grey street sludge into white slopes. Over the four weeks of official holiday season in London, I think I spotted one flake, which looked a little like the bloke whose colleagues “accidentally” gave him the wrong address for the “Christmas Do.”

     Wet winter weather aside, one festive fixation the English do really well is food- specifically dessert. I watched in fascinated delight right along with half a dozen young cousins, as the traditional “figgy pudd” was set ablaze. The dark, caramelized, plumy cake left behind, smothered in a velvety double cream more than made up for a green landscape outside. But when someone offered me a similarly dressed minced pie, I declined. First, I couldn’t figure out why a meat pie was on the dessert menu. Second, why would I then want it smothered in rich cream? It was only wandering through Marks and Sparks days later that I realized; the milled mixture in the sugared pastry was fruit, not meat.

      A light bulb moment also twinkled into being for me when the Queen made her annual Christmas message- at three in the afternoon.  My English readers will be wondering, “And this is special because?” But my North American readers will realize that the Queen's speech is enjoyed over our breakfasts. As my cousin and I stopped for a few minutes to listen to Liz, I realized for the first time that the world does not in fact revolve around whatever corner of the world I happen to be in. 

      Balmy temperatures also allowed me to take a trip to the seaside; something that I would not risk at this time of year back home without an east coast accent and eighteen layers of clothing. The day after Boxing Day my cousins and I piled into an Audi and headed south towards Rye and East Sussex. Our first stop was a century old lighthouse, the fourth to stand on the site since the reign of James I in 1615.  The five story conical cylinder once overlooked the English Channel, but a changing tide has left it stranded in the midst of shale and pebble covered planes- what passes for sand in this country. Sadly, it was closed for the holidays- as was the child sized railway that chugs around the area, so it was a quick picture in front of it and then back in the car for our happy foursome.

     The small hilly town of Dungeness was once a port stop, populated by fisherman and their families.  Though no longer right on the coast, its residents have managed to stay solvent; these days trading in tourism instead of seafood.  We popped into a white and dark timber fronted pub, its door and roof charmingly low. Bundles of hops hung from the rafters and a massive hearth stretched across one wall, a cherry blaze complimented the heat of spirits being toasted.      

     For heartier fare, we stopped in a fish and chips restaurant. Netting, anchors and various nautical paraphernalia hung along white-washed walls, wooden tables and chairs reminiscent of those that would be bolted to the deck of a ship. But it is the “authentic” dockland service from our waitress that is my fondest memory of our meal.

“Excuse meh, sorreh. Buh did you ohdah, ahnions, oh ahnion rings,” she asked our table at large, the expression on her face one of polite inquiry.

“Onion Rings,” we chorused cheerily in response.

“Roight.”  She turned smartly on her heel, black mid-length hair swinging over her shoulder as she stomped towards the kitchen.

      We looked at each other in concern, but before we could even wonder about the sudden shift in her mood a raised voice could be heard from the kitchen, its open door just feet away from where we sat.

“The ohdah was foh f---king ahnion rings, NOT ahnion!! Who the f—k took this?” Her demand garnered no response from her coworkers that we could hear other than banging pots, but out in the dinning room eight shoulders hunched around our table.

      The question was posed a second time using similar prose and we exchanged guilty looks.  At a table across the room, four other patrons grimly finished their meal, not amused by the dinner theatre from the kitchen. 

“Do you think she realizes we can hear her?” My cousin asked this in hushed tones, a smile playing around her mouth.

“IF THAH OHDAH WAS FOH AHNION RINGS, WHY THAH F--K DOES THIS SAY AHNIONS? WHAT STIUPID AHSS-HOLE TOOK THIS?” The enraged inquisition continued from the kitchen.

“Erm, yeah. I think she knows,” I answered.  We couldn’t help breaking into the giggles, drawing a few disapproving glares from the diners a few table over. 

     As our waitress returned with a bowl of surprisingly tasty if disputed fried rings, the only evidence of her rant was a slight flush across her pale freckled cheeks. I couldn’t help thinking there was something strangely authentic about her salty serenade in what was once a sea-side town.

Click here for my cousin's figgy pudd recipe 

It's black and white.

Lighthouse and fog horn, Dungeness, Kent

Most fishing experts claim that it's best to go crabbing during the months with a "r" in it here in South Australia although crabs can supposedly be caught all year round. Judging by our crabbing luck, I believe in the fishermen's advice. Blue Swimmer (Portunus pelagicus) crabs are the species that everyone here looks for - they are small compared to the Dungeness crabs (Cancer magister) that I was used to in San Francisco and all up the Pacific Northwest but they are still very tasty. The meat is sweet and delicate and is very tasty when tossed with some pasta, olive oil, garlic, chillies and freshly grated Parmesan. Although you can buy crabs in the markets here, it is so much more fun and rewarding when you go through the effort of catching them yourselves.

I also believe that if you find food growing in unexpected places such as on a tree, growing wild by the side of the highway or digging up clams on a beach that you never even been to before, the sheer excitement of finding food either by fishing or simply stumbling upon it in unexpected places makes me giddy like a small child. You will hear of many entries where I search for food in my neighbourhood or while on my many road trips. Bon appetite!

The funny thing about the dungeness crab...it sort of made me believe in aliens.  It's an odd mushroom shaped critter with spindly little legs and two mean looking claws.  Not very earthly at all.

I still decided to eat it.  Here's what I did to prepare it for cooking: 

Note: the crab I bought was preboiled.  If it had not of been, I would have dunked the little guy into a pot of boiling water for 12-20 minutes.  The one I had was almost two pounds, so I definitely would have gone over the 12 minute mark 

Step 1: Remove the top shell of the crab.  This is the large cranial shell on top of the crab which protects its body. 

1. To do this, put the palm of your hand on top of the crab so that your fingers point away from the crab's front.  You should be able to wrap your fingers around the back edge of the shell.
2. Pull up on with your fingers so that your hand makes a 90 degree angle to your arm.  As you do this, the crab's shell should pop off and fall away without too much effort.
3. If the crab shell is still attached at the front, it can easily be pulled off using either hand.
4. Save the shell and turn it into stock!

Step 2: Cleaning the crab.  If you did not think it looked like an alien before, surveying the innards of a crab should make you feel like you are in a science fiction movie.  You have three tasks: removing any cartilage, removing the gills, and determing what to do with the crab butter.

1. Cartilage is long pieces of white, tough material.  There should be at least two resting on the gills, which are triangular greenish-yellow areas near the crab's face.
2. Using a knife, cut the cartilage and gills away from the body of the crab.  Use a finger to poke around.  Any other tough, stringy pieces of material will be extra cartilage.  Remove it.
3. Now comes the fun part.  See that yellow lumpy stuff in the middle of the crab?  You have uncovered the little guy's digestive tract.  That was his last meal.  In polite circles, this is called crab butter (because crab digestive innards has a distasteful ring) and for some, it  is delicacy.  I tend to avoid eating digestive tract materials whenever possible.  I used a spoon and the butcher's paper that Whole Foods used to wrap my crab to get as much of it out as I could.
4. Check for more cartilage and remove if found.

As a side note, there's nothing poisonous or harmful about cartilage, it is just impossible to chew and might be a choking hazard for children.

Now for the Fun Part.

1. Take a rolling pin and crack the shell on the legs and claws.  Work out some stress.  Make some noise.  Let the kids help.
2. Now, optionally you can cut the crab into halves or quarters depending on your recipe and preference.  I cut mine into halves before cooking.

Next time I'll talk sauces.  Anyone have a favorite Dungeness crab recipe?

London: