Malone’s impressions of Kent

The first time I discovered the Kent countryside was Trevor McDonald on the News At Ten muddling up the vowels on those two words. (I didn’t understand why my parents were laughing so hard…). The second time I came across Kent was visiting Chatham to meet a former boyfriend’s parents.

“The mother who was a 6ft prison guard had just had a boob job…”

The mother who was a 6ft prison guard had just had a boob job… I was 25 and my boyfriends mother had prouder boobs than me. This is not right. Neither was the illuminated neon pink flamingo and huge framed posters from Athena adorning every wall. (Including that one where the tennis player is scratching her bum).

I admired the way she kept her sink clean. It was sparkling. I wondered if she had dry cleaned her kitchen cloths and scourers especially for my visit. Everything was spotless. I hankered to be that mum (albeit the fake chest) how do you keep a kitchen sink that sparkling? These are mum secrets. If one of my grannies had lived past me being seven, I would probably know the answers to these mum skills. They had a conservatory! I’d always wanted a conservatory. A conservatory says safe; safe time to relax in the sun without wasps. Paradise. My poor mother, a devout hippie… Sorry mother, I also like double glazing and gravel lawns… There I’ve said it. All I can say is: I’m sorry. I do still like The Beatles though and second hand clothes, don’t disown me!

The sparkling Kent matriarch later left her family for a truck driver, the dad went missing for three days only to be found staying in Bluewater on a massive break-up shopping spree. I never got to find out how she kept her scrubbing brushes so new. They probably were just brand new, like her 38GGs… Third introduction to Kent was last weekend for a wedding. A night away from motherhood and a night in ‘Cooling’. Cooling is not cool, it’s a tiny village with a pub. We booked their twin room with ‘WC’ down the hall, for people who like to get fully dressed to go to the toilet in the middle of the night. With a key. You had to take a key with you!

The taxi driver asked us if we wanted to go “off meter” realising he was trying it on, we went on meter, and saved a fiver. He was almost worth the extra fiver though as a tour guide, his Birmingham accent pointing at a field: “that’s where they filmed advert with that Gary Linekar for dem Golden Wonder cripps.” Then a few fields later. “Oh, actually it was that field.” Then pointing to yet another field: “dead woman was found in a suitcase there.” Ahh, the glorious garden of England; the Kent countryside. Got on the train missing the organic hula hoopers but wondering how I could build a conservatory onto my 3rd floor flat…