Barham

I got sidetracked one more day at the campsite with mixing up medicinal herbs. I was also rinsing through my stash of emergency firewood. Mark and Kaz kindly agreed to take me to the supermarket, and with dogs in tow for their daily run, to an area they thought I would be able to gather some firewood. The area they took me to was behind the church in Barham, overlooking the Elham Valley. As soon as I took in the views, I knew that I wanted to spend an evening there. It is a great spot for watching a sunset.

The next day, I went round to say my farewells to all who I had met. Then Mark offered to guide me back to Barham via a route that did not involve the tight bends through the village.

Unbelievably, at some point along the route the tail of my caravan must’ve bottomed out. The nearside rear corner was damaged again! As soon as I was set up and Mark had headed back, I got on with repairing the damage. It didn’t take long. I didn’t sand and paint as there simply wasn’t time with the rain due in. The main thing was to make it watertight.

Barham is a lovely little village. Apparently, it’s most notable claim to fame is that Sir Reginald FitzUrse, one of four assassins of Thomas Becket, owned land there.

All the villagers, bar one couple, were welcoming. The one couple informed me that the land was private and belonged to a Farmer Groombridge. I thanked them for the information. They said that there had been “problems with caravans in the past”. On further investigation, I discovered that the claim was untrue, other than one caravan that had been set fire to by some-one with mental health issues.

Whilst at the campsite, my weed man kindly delivered to me. He mentioned that he had a couple of kittens that needed homes. As soon as I saw a photo of one little tyke in particular, I warmed to him immediately and said that I would love to give him a home. The little fellow was unexpectedly handed over to me at the spot in Barham.

However, Rowan lost the plot. I had seriously underestimated how she would react! Eventually, Rowan skulked off. I gave little Tyke the opportunity to stretch his legs. He took to me immediately. He is bright, fast and will make a good hunter; He pounced on anything that moved and wouldn’t let go. He loved to sit on my shoulder while I was doing things. I took him outside and found him some loose earth that he used; He’s a quick learner. He purred like Rowan - constantly. When Rowan came back in, I had to put him back in the carrier basket that he came in. That night was awful. All night long Rowan was growling and Tyke was crying, desperately trying to get out of the carrier. It was heartbreaking.

The next morning Kaz and Mark visited. They brought some kindling wood that had been laying about and decided to do a bit of firewood foraging. It was a lovely sunny morning. I asked Kaz whether she knew of a suitable home for little Tyke. Rowan was still seriously unhappy. When she went off, I got Tyke out again. He loved it and I could see that he would take to this life.

Unfortunately, no home could be found for Tyke. I had to take him with me. So, I tacked down and got Tyke back into the carrier. I put him behind my seat out of Rowan’s sight. Then, with Rowan on board, we headed off.

I never got the sunset I was hoping for, by the way.