It was only several weeks after our fabled trip to the land of the North, that we decided to once again, bravely explore life outside of the house, with a trip to Kent, in Mavis our beloved and somewhat lumbersome camper van. 

I am delighted to say that we had several unexpected adventures during the trip which were only made possible with the kind loaning of a car from the fabulous moppets, Claire and Heli. You may remember them from our adventure in Kent in a previous diary entry. Heli has infectious mirth flowing through her veins and Claire has the most enviable hair, so wild at times it has its own postcode. They also oversee the loving care of Hendrix the Poodle, who singlepawedly managed to demolish our fruit cage in a moment of over-exhuberence last summer, whilst we were indulging in a rather tense display of how well we can deploy our brakes after a zoom. He managed to style it out fairly well I must say, so there were no hard feelings, especially from me as I won the challenge.  

On collection of the lovingly loaned car, Hector made Muvver and I both promise not to shed too much dander and clinkers over the upholstery – an outrage to even suggest this I think you will agree, although Muvver did sit on her coat just to show willing. This transport was a holiday saver though as it was quite hot for a Spindle to go on buses and roam around without air conditioning, and muvver was having issues with pesky Arthur and his Itis, and was moving in a most mysterious way.

Driving up to the campsite, we were engaged in a warm chat from the owner of the site, a most jaunty of gentlemen, so I decided to go off for a sniff and to appraise the possibility of furry tree critters to chase.  I only left them for a few minutes but when I got back the man was trying to persuade muvver to take a cocktail of complimentary medicines that he had successfully treated his wildly savage peacock with. Apparently the drugs were deployed after a particularly severe beaking from the unrepentantly querulous resident fowl.

He was quite earnest in his recommendation so after twenty minutes or so we nodded brightly and began to slowly back away citing an imminent date with some Jaffa Cakes and a brew. 

*We went to inspect the peacocks later that evening, and I can confirm they were indeed sedate and well behaved, with no evidence of trailing human gizzards, which was nice.

One particular highlight of the holiday for me was a scamper along Camber sands. Oh the feeling of sun on my paws as I scampered through the sand, wind in my tail and breeze through my feathery whiskers. All the beaches I have been to thus far have been pebbly, which causes havoc with the old trotters and a hound has to care for their paws, don’t you know. The sand was also a revelation for Hector when it came to the business of picking up my back flap botty offerings. The sand enabled him to roll it around to give a thin but even coating (much like a croquette) which ensured clean and easy scoop action. Noting this, I decided to make sure that I reversed onto a thicket of thistles next time, as that always causes foul language, and if I am lucky, a tattered bag and a moistened wellington boot, think Rorschach for beginners. 

The highlight of the trip for Muvver was a lovely day spent in Tenterden. We had lunch with the smashing Kent side of our family and I myself had a most interesting chat with my pal Brian, who I must say is rather a jaunty and interesting chap. I also made friends with a new pal called Millie, who was on hand to distribute tea, coffee AND everlasting ear twiddles! 

Having reached optimum tummy level of fullness, we went our separate ways and we decided to have a look around the town. It was spiffy, loads of independent shops and antique shops to root through. It was then that muvver found the find of the century.

I was happily sniffing a stuffed squirrel when I heard a strange peeping noise from her. She was gazing at a cabinet, with a look of pure unadulterated joy. What could cause such a reaction? Well, to be fair it could be anything but on this occasion it really was a cracker. Staring out at us was a beautiful ceramic bottle, emblazoned with “The Dainty Muff Warmer”. I think you can all imagine the childish hilarity that this find caused. Sensing we were interested, the shop owner did say that if we bought it we could have the muff and its special muff box for free. Sadly it proved to be too expensive for our jangling reticules, so regretfully we had to leave it where it was. In a bid to cheer a most forlorn muvver up, Hector declared he could fashion her a more effective warming device in his special shed at home, but a) that was missing the innuendo filled point, and b) we were unprepared (and alarmed) to see what he would come up with. 

As you can imagine though, it lives in our collective memory in the same way as the Victorian signature stamp (bearing the name ‘Fanny’ in a beautiful and elegant script) we found, and I would imagine is telling of the level of humour at Spindle Towers.  

Our final day saw us venture forth to the atmospheric landscape of Dungeness, where we began in style with a generous helping of fish and chips and a cup of tea. Hector lost his heart and soul to this mysterious place, muvver chirruped with excitement at the art studios and I wrote a letter to Nelson, who was currently enduring a well needed residential break at the clinic after the incident with Sister Josephine* and the fish slice. 

* She has recovered well. 

Alas, it was eventually time to come home, so once again I find myself reclined on a deck chair, nursing a Dubbonet and Bitter Lemon, waiting for the next adventure to wash upon the shores of Spindle Towers.