Ashford Ducks

Well, on Thursday I made a trip to Kent to have a look at another Aylesbury, this time in Ashford, just off Juction 9 of the M20. I went on my bike again, this time fitting well into the back of a hired car, that my Dad gets every time he goes southwards. We hit Ashford about 0900 and I made quick progress to Aylesbury Road, a typical Barrett style housing estate in the North of Ashford. It quickly became apparent that this Aylesbury road had its name originate, not from the town of Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire, but from the creatures that origninate from there and make its football team famous. Other roads in the area included, Muscowy Road , Dunnock Road, Siskin Close and Snipe Close, all birds. This is my first duck related Aylesbury and it felt good to see.

Having found my Aylesbury of the day, I set about cycling to Dymnchurch where I was to meet my Dad. I went first to the tourist information centre, by the church in Ashford to find a map as like before I had forgotten mine and found a 'Cycle maps of Kent' map, which was very useful. Having paid for it I set off, only to return to the shop 10 mins later, realizing I had forgotten to take the map with me. My second attempt was better, if not frustrated by the fact I didn't know where I was and therefore had no refereence to start from, so cycled around lots of roads to find road signs telling me where I was going and therefore indicating which junction I was on. Eventually I found a suitable road and set off down it. After about a mile I found the correct gate across the rail track and to a footpath which was marked on the cycle route. This footpath lasted all of 4 metres, then became thick brambles, stinging nettles and thistles. I used my bike as a scythe and pushed it through the vegetation for about 100 metres until I emerged, covered in green and stung many times and with lots of thorns stuck in me. Having removed all of them, I carried on along the other side of the hedgerow to avoid a situation like that happening again and found the road where I expected it to be. From there, my cycle to Dymnchuch was very pleasant and I met a very helpful farmer on the road who advised me the best way to Dymnchurch. I saw the Royal Military Canal and the monument at Bilsington to the philanthropist Lord of the manor, sadly a dying breed in British culture, probably as the lot of the common folk has improved through government intervention and those previous generous souls. The rise of the corporation with faceless shareholders has caused much industrial success to be refocussed upon making more profits, rather than the accrueing of wealth and then giving it to those that need it, the so called, 'trickle down effect' of liberal economics.
I arrived in Dymnchurch at around lunchtime and sat eating freshly caught fish and recently fried chips on the beach with my feet in the sand and the sun on my face, glorious. I sat and read for a while and went to inspect those extraordinary defences, the Martello towers, when I realised I was dropping off to sleep. I made my way to where my Dad worked and chatted to his colleagues about my preoccupation with Aylesburys while he finished off for the day and then returned home via one long traffic jam.