Showing posts with label Bob Simmonds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bob Simmonds. Show all posts

Monday, 26 November 2007

Footpaths of Thanet by Bob Simmonds

Cedric had already asked if they knew of any attractive back passages in the area, before realising, to his horror, that the 'THANET WANDERERS' were not actually a local walking group, as he had supposed.

Having just read Eastcliff Richard’s frustrated comments to the anonymous ramblers making unrelated comments on his blog about one of Ramsgate’s lifts. “What has all that got to do with the lift? If you want to ramble, please do it in the countryside!” It really is very annoying to be having a chat about a lift while anonymous people are replying about holocaust denial lectures and the smuggling ring run by Geoff Capes in the 1970's as though this was somehow related.


I thought it was time some of us went for a ramble so featured here is my publication, Footpaths of Thanet by Bob Simmonds. The illustration is from the book.

This is a book for those who -

- like to get around without having to use the car,

- take pleasure in seeing their surroundings from a different point of view,

- enjoy discovering unfamiliar parts of East Kent,

- sometimes want to get away from all the noise and the traffic, and take a wander down a leafy lane,

- get a kick out of finding themselves somewhere they least expected,

- prefer to go and come back by different routes,

- or just like walking for the sheer pleasure of it.

With lots of information about the network of footpaths, alleyways and leafy lanes that cover the Isle of Thanet, it will enable you to do seemingly eccentric things - like walk to Westwood Cross avoiding the traffic, get up close and personal with the planes at Manston airport, or find pleasant ways to cut quickly across deadly-dull housing estates.

Click here to read more

Thursday, 25 October 2007

The Pen is Mitre Than the Sword?

BLOG FOR ‘THE PETRIFIED HAYSTACK OF BROADSTAIRS’

When Nick Evans’ book about Broadstairs was advertised in ‘Thanet Extra’ it was said to be the first book about the town to be published for 15 years. Which is odd, since I distinctly remember writing ‘Petrified’ (along with its companion ‘The Small Happy Family of Broadstairs’) only a year ago. Indeed the ‘Extra’ wrote a review about it –
If I had known the effect that these small, inoffensive booklets would have on my career I would never have written them.

They were based on some research that I had done for the 175th anniversary of Holy Trinity Church, Broadstairs (Dicken’s ‘petrified haystack’), and I thought would provide a light-hearted look, both at the history of the church, and of the town it was built to serve. Little did I realise that the church was incapable of taking a light-hearted look at itself, or its history.

I had returned to the town of my childhood in order to regain my health and vocation as a Church of England priest. I had spent several years working part-time for Oxfam and the Red Cross whilst recovering from a major road accident which nearly killed me. In Broadstairs I thought that I would find a caring church where I could exercise some form of ministry and eventually return to a responsible position in the Christian community. I was therefore both surprised and greatly saddened to discover that I was not welcome in the parish church. Even when their Vicar left for a new job my offers of help were refused. I never had my letters answered. The Bishop and Archdeacon refused to meet with me. I was treated as an outsider even though I attended services regularly. In the end I became so desperate as I saw my life slipping away that had to take a post in Yorkshire in order to find the acceptance and encouragement that I needed.
And the reason for this very non-Christian behaviour? Because I had written something that offended them in one of these two little books.
So, read them yourselves…and if you find something so offensive that you would not let a priest do his job then write to Michael’s Bookshop and he will pass it on.

Bob Simmonds