The equinox, which occurred at 21:47 GMT, signaled the beginning of the season of light and the end of the year. For many, this is a time of mixed emotions, as they reflect on the previous year and prepare for the excitement of Christmas. However, for the writer, it was a time of vacation and relief from work. While his partner Jools had to work half a day, her employer treated all the employees to a fancy lunch and a bottle of wine in celebration. The writer dropped Jools off at work before embarking on a mini-churchcrawl in the west of Kent.
Kent is a small county in England but takes some time to travel cross-country from one end to another as most main roads run from London to the coast. The writer drove up the A20 and then onto the motorway to Ashford before reaching Maidstone. He avoided rush hour traffic by leaving later in the day. After turning onto an A road, the writer began twisting and turning through Mereworth and Tonbridge. The town used to be a sleepy village but became a major junction after the arrival of railways. The writer continued on to Penshurt, a village built around Penshurst Place, the home of the Sidney family since Tudor times. The church was the writer’s target for the visit. Gilbert Scott had been very busy there, so there were few things to see from prior centuries. The Sidney Chapel, where the great and good are buried and remembered, housed memorials, including one featuring the heads of Robert Sidney’s children in a cloud. The church also had a colorful 15th-century roof, heraldic shields, and a painted font.
The writer then drove to Speldhurst, but there was nowhere to park near the church. He saw that the porch doors were closed and convinced himself they were locked and therefore not worth checking out. He then drove to Groombridge, another village where there was a small chapel with fabulous glass. It was pouring with rain and dark by then, but the writer missed the church on his first drive-by and discovered that it and the other church in the village were in Sussex. The next destination was Tunbridge Wells, where the writer had visited a decade ago but wanted to retake some shots. The church there was across the road from The Pantiles, a Georgian square, and was where the writer attended a service. The writer was questioned by a warden for taking pictures but explained that he enjoyed it. After getting his shots, the writer left and promised to a young man selling the Big Issue that he would come back and buy a copy. He did better than that and gave the young man a fiver.
By the time the writer returned to the car park in Tunbridge Wells, it was raining hard again. He had two and a half hours to make it to Folkestone to pick up Jools after her meal. The traffic going into Tunbridge Wells was terrible, but the writer was more than happy going the other way. After stopping at Stop 24 services for a coffee and something to eat, the writer had 90 minutes to kill before he had to pick up Jools. He scrolled Twitter and drank his coffee before going to pick up Jools at 4:15 pm.