Sweeps Festival

The first I knew that the train at the platform was ours was when Tivoli shouted at me to hurry. I turned round to see the doors closing in on her leg. Ooops. We missed it.

I'd been busy taking photos of the beautiful sunlit titanium-type structure at Dartford station (extra) and assuming that our train would be arriving in due course at the opposite platform. Luckily her friend who was putting us up for a weekend at Rochester's Sweeps Festival was very relaxed about us arriving on the next train.

So, another spring weekend, another dose of musical madness. Eight pubs strung out along the high street and four outdoor stages, including one inside the castle grounds, meant there was plenty of it, once you'd been distracted by then squeezed past the dozens of Morris dancers taking turns to block the street (extra - I took this one in an unusual empty moment).

It was so unexpectedly sunny that we spent almost all our time outside but we did venture into the cathedral to see Hope: The Leaves of the Trees, a 'reflective memorial to honour those who have passed away during the coronavirus pandemic' (extra). I'm afraid I see nothing hopeful in any of those deaths but it fits my relationship with 'hope' at the moment to see it gradually rusting in front of the altar.