28 July 2019 (Sunday) - Farningham

As I perused the internet over brekkie I saw that I had received a friend request on Facebook from one Rory Stuart. His name was followed by some Chinese symbols that translated to “Chinese Fire Dragon”. I wonder who he is?
I had a little look at the Internet as I do. Not much had happened overnight which was a shame really. Once social media was a good way of seeing what family and friends were up to. Nowadays it is more and more silly memes about cats and rants about Donald Trump. I must admit it is the seemingly constant stream of rants about Donald Trump that boils my piss most. I have over five hundred people on my Facebook friends list of which only three live in the USA. And those three rarely mention the chap. Why do so many British people get *so* wound up about President Trump when we have enough idiots of our own we might rant about?

We got the dogs organised and went out for our traditional weekend walk. Today was the monthly meet-up of hunters of Tupperware, but we decided against going. What with the recent heatwave the dogs haven’t had a good walk for a little while. They would have got rather fractious sitting round waiting whilst we sat round talking.

We drove round to the co-op to get some cash from the machine. *Again* it didn’t give me a receipt.
We then drove up to Farningham where we met Karl, Tracey and Charlotte. Eight weeks ago we started walking a series of geocaches, but we were taking our time, and when we got about half way round we felt it was rather hot, so we stopped off at the pub.
We went back today to finish the series.

We had a rather good walk. The route was one we’ve walked at least twice before. There were a couple of rather noisy stretches along the main road and along a path near the motorway, but there were miles along which the dogs could be off the leads and running free. And we didn’t have any aggro with cattle or horses at all either. Mind you the route did end up with us walking along the river Darent, and the hounds do like a dip. In fact the river ran through the garden of the pub where we ended up. That gave Fudge a reason to keep shouting until he was allowed to go for a paddle.

Three pints later we made our way back to the cars, and took a rather slow way home stopping off to pick up one or two drive-by caches on the way. I say “drive by”; I hadn’t really looked into what was involved with the last one. It took a little effort to get to the footpath along which it could be found. And when we got to where we thought we might start rummaging we found a tunnel.
I’ve not been tunnel-ratting for years.
It was rather good fun; getting on hands and knees and scurrying along fifty yards of tunnel. And then back
again. The dogs thought it was a great game. And finding the cache in the tunnel was an added bonus.
I took a few photos of our adventures.

We came home; the dogs slept most of the way. "er indoors TM" boiled up a good bit of dinner, and as we scoffed it we watched some police thing on the telly. I have no idea what it is, but "er indoors TM" seems to like it.

I did have a vague plan to do the ironing this evening… it will still be there when I get home from work tomorrow…

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