What the . . ?!

That's right, I live in a theme park. It's a bit like Colonial Williamsburg except that the buildings are older, the time-warp is more recent and we don't get dressed up in period dress every single day. Officially we get dressed up in Dickens-themed outfits on only two weekends each year, but those who own costumes like to parade them at every possible opportunity; the Sweeps festival is a case in point, not officially Dickens but distinctly Victorian.
Lots more here

I began with a walk up past the railway station to Ordnance Terrace (and was happy to note en-route that Wickes is in fact open for business, albeit seriously restricted, I might be tempted to tart-up the paintwork in the flat if the lock-down continues well into the foreseeable future). The owner of Dickens former home was sitting outside on the step having a fag, so I asked permission to photograph her plaque and she was happy to allow me. Her small daughter came to the door to find out who mummy was talking to and was sent back inside because “the lady is taking photographs”. I explained that I would be pointing the camera up at the plaque and zooming in and that nothing else and nobody would be in shot. Unlike the BMX boys last weekend she seemed to believe me.

From there I went up through Victoria Gardens, round the back of the University for the Creative Arts, down across Jackson's Field (giving the wheel park a very wide berth) and down Star Hill into Rochester High Street where I went snap-happy with everything and anything Dickensian. As you can see, no shortage! I have left Mrs Tickit's Pantry out of this collage, mostly because I couldn't make it fit and slightly because it ought to be Mrs Ticket's Pantry but curiously is not.

Back home and assembling this has kept me happily out of trouble for a good few hours, so if anyone else cares to send me on a differently-themed treasure-hunt for tomorrow's blip all suggestions will be gratefully received.