21 July 2012 (Saturday) - Glambling

The weekly weigh-in. No weight lost; no weight gained. I can see from MyFitnessPal (dot com) that my weight has remained the same for two months. Whilst I'm very pleased with the amount of weight that I've lost so far, there's no denying that I'd like to shift some more. But realistically I think I've gone as far as I can go with dieting. So more exercise would seem to be the way forward. Looking back over the last few weeks I haven't been as active as i might have been. Let's do something about that.

We popped into town quickly this morning to do a bit of banking. Whilst in town I met an old colleague. I hadn't seen her for years - it was good to catch up. And then on to Folkestone where we swapped cars for buses and took a scenic route up to Capel. A really good walk along the cliff tops, and soon we were at a favourite stomping ground: the derelict plotting rooms, bunkers and shelters left over from the last war. It might seem as though we were trespassing. Perhaps we were. But these tunnels have been left open to the elements, and are slowly decaying. No one takes any responsibility for these tunnels, and I for one enjoy exploring them. Dangerous? Possibly. But we take care of each other.

We had a picnic lunch in the sun and then went into the first set of tunnels. Easy to get into, a bit damp underfoot. Compared to many of the tunnels we've been in they are rather dull. But they were the first tunnels I ever went into at Lydden Spout, and they are special to me.
After a few minutes we then went on a mission. We knew that there were tunnels below where we pic-niced. We'd read bout them on the internet, so they had to be there. But finding the entrance would be tricky. We'd searched before but not found the entrance. Or (taking all the credit here!) others of our party had searched and I'd stood at the top of the cliffs and watched them search. This time I went looking for the tunnel. I scrambled fifty yards down the cliff face to where we'd searched before. And then I went on another thirty yards further than I probably should have. And just when I was on the point of giving up I noticed a rope coming down a slope. For want of anything better to do I used the rope to scramble up that slope, and at the very top I found an entrance to a tunnel. At first glance it looked like the tunnel had long since collapsed, but if I had risked life and limb to scramble that far, so could other brave souls. I turned - where were they? So I clambered back down the slope and hollered to the rest of the party. After twenty minutes others were eventually standing with me at that entrance.
It looked like a landslide inside, but I had been wrong in my initial assessment. In a typical example of idiot enthusiasm triumphing over common sense "Daddies Little Angel TM" climbed, struggled and shimmied through the subterranean landslide. That's my girl! She shouted that it was worth our while going in, and so we did. And inside that hole halfway down the White Cliffs were hundreds of yards of tunnels on several levels. We found rooms and staircases, and spent the best part of an hour investigating. When we eventually climbed back to the top of the cliffs where the girls had been waiting, they told us that whilst we were gone they could hear voices but no one was about. Was it us they could hear: our voices coming up through ventilation shafts?
A quick five minutes in a third set of tunnels and then, pausing only briefly for Sid to eat cow-poo, it was time to think about coming home. By one of life's co-incidences there was a pub by the bus stop, so we had a crafty pint whilst waiting for the bus. The more eagle-eyed amongst us noticed that whilst in the beer garden waiting for the bus, two buses went past. We caught the third bus.

Once home I had a quick shower and put photos of our expedition onto the Internet, and then being Saturday night, it was films night. A different venue, but we sat own and watched three Monty Python films back to back. I loved it...

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