Dispelling Ashford

A short drive to Appledore, a village nearby, where we went into an antique shop by Appledore station called Station Antiques. Very pricey but solid furniture there. We drove into the village proper, and having parked behind the village hall, noticing an old howitzer shell awarded to the village in thanks for war bond purchases in 1914-1919. However it is now a memorial. Walked along a street called The Street, and into The Black Lion where we had a very decent lunch, and I had a pint of rather nice dark beer called -- I think -- Marsh Midnight from the Romy Marsh brewery, to wash down my delicious chicken and ham pie with lots of vegetables. Lorraine ate a halloumi burger with sweet potato fries washed down with cranberry juice and soda. 

From then drove to the centre of Ashford, and had a wee mooch about. The bones of what must have been a lovely market town still poking through occasionally. Lorraine walking about reminiscing a little. She had a troubling dream about a sinister Ashford lately, and seeing it in all its banal glory was therapeutic.