Low, low tide at Whitstable beach on Easter Sunday morning; the sky changing every few seconds as the weather hurtled by (though not as quickly as it did 12 hours later when Storm Katie arrived). A photo snatched as I followed my daughter as she cycled along the sea front. I suspect she’s only a few weeks away from getting the confidence to cycle at speeds which will make it harder for me to follow on foot taking photos as I go.
A month of wet weeks and surprisingly balmy weekends. A day trip to Whitstable saw unexpected high temperatures – ideal for oysters and fish’n’chips on the beach, followed by a walk to Tankerton and back.
Closer to home, the people behind the excellent Pelton Arms in Greenwich took over the White Swan in Charlton Village: a dismal pub turned pretty quickly into the best pub in the neighbourhood. I was lucky enough to get an invite to the soft launch evening, which seemed like a great success; there’d have been plenty of sore heads around SE7 the following morning.
After doing what felt like too many gigs with my band in June and July I swore we’d do no more than two a month for the rest of the year…then immediately agreed to three in a row in September. It proved worthwhile, though: a charity gig at my local; an amazing night at the White Swan with Simon Hanson from Squeeze depping on drums, and Glenn Tilbrook joining us for most of the second set on guitar and vocals; finally, a great night at the Pelton with a new sax player onboard.
I managed to spend more time than usual at Charlton Lido, with my daughter having swimming lessons there for the first time allowing me a quick ‘extra’ swim on Saturday mornings. One Sunday morning I achieved a life goal that’s been eluding me since the lido reopened in 2012: first into the pool. Swimming under a blue sky in a quiet, heated pool, with just a hint of a chill in the air: pretty much perfect conditions.
An early evening walk down to the beach at Whitstable. Sun breaking though the clouds to the west, rain approaching from the north east. A flock of oystercatchers flew past: sadly neither of the cameras I was carrying was up to the job of catching them. The birdsong here is fantastic, and the air noticeably cleaner than my corner of south east London has been recently.