Post by Les on Apr 11, 2016 10:28:43 GMT
Mote Park seemed a million miles from where I lived and grew up, it had space not just the size of terraced house back gardens it was huge
440 acres
To those Togs who remember the scouts and the scouting movement let this be a lesson to you. As all good stories begin, once upon a time- I was a scout with St. Francis troop and on occasions, we would be marched from Week Street to Mote Park to play something called a wide game.
We were divided into two groups, the first group of scouts would tie their neckerchief onto the back of their belt and then they were given about ten minutes to hide, after which it was the job of the opposing team to find them and recover as many neckerchiefs’ as possible. The scout with the most neckerchiefs’ would be the winner and probably the one with the most boxed ears.
Now we all know Mote Park is quite a large area and not too easy to find if someone wants to make themselves scarce. On this occasion after searching for what seemed hours, we, including the scoutmaster, decided to hide behind an embankment near the Mote Avenue gate end and just wait for the second group to tire themselves out before going home.
Now it was getting nicely dark when we heard voices approaching from the far end of the footpath. "Keep your noise down lads" the scout master said "and we will surprise them". As we were some way down the embankment we could hear voices but not so clearly as to know who was doing the talking or what they were saying.
When they were nearly on top of us the scoutmaster shouted, "Get em lads" and the chase was on. Unfortunately it was not the other scouts, that we had by now lost entirely, but several ladies out for a quiet walk before retiring. They all proceeded to run away from us shouting "You dirty old men", “Leave us alone you dirty old men". It did not seem appropriate to follow them but shortly after the police arrived and spent some time questioning the principals of our scoutmaster.
As it turned out by the time we jumped out on the women it was probably nine thirty, on speaking to the other lads when we met the following week most of them through boredom had gone home by eight thirty.
I remember a couple of the lads from our school who were extremely keen on fishing being in the news when they dragged a dead body out of the lake. Thinking back they must have been scared stiff, glad it wasn't me that found it.
The Mote Skating rink
I do remember skating over the lake one year while still at school. There were dozens and dozens of people young and old just playing on the ice. Thinking back it would have been a disaster of it had cracked. Can anyone remember the year though
The Mote Cricket Ground
Mote Park the venue for the Mote Cricket Club and at times Kent games as well; I admit I know nothing about the game apart from slogging a few balls about in the bomb site behind our house in Brewer Street. I am sure that in the future someone will show what a plebeian I am and write something pretty swish about it though
Fishing
An older cousin who lived a few streets away took me fishing. I remember this cousin giving me a good clip around the ears because a hearse went past with a body in and I didn’t lift my school cap as a mark of respect (I've only just remembered this I must have a word with him).
I have fond memories of my time spent fishing here even if I didn’t catch much, I still remember the smells and the sounds and the open space that was so unreal. You Shepway people were spoiled rotten having this on your doorstep
Putting Green
The Park had a putting green, pretty good fun too and I heard if you were rich you could play something called golf (what the heck was that).
440 acres
To those Togs who remember the scouts and the scouting movement let this be a lesson to you. As all good stories begin, once upon a time- I was a scout with St. Francis troop and on occasions, we would be marched from Week Street to Mote Park to play something called a wide game.
We were divided into two groups, the first group of scouts would tie their neckerchief onto the back of their belt and then they were given about ten minutes to hide, after which it was the job of the opposing team to find them and recover as many neckerchiefs’ as possible. The scout with the most neckerchiefs’ would be the winner and probably the one with the most boxed ears.
Now we all know Mote Park is quite a large area and not too easy to find if someone wants to make themselves scarce. On this occasion after searching for what seemed hours, we, including the scoutmaster, decided to hide behind an embankment near the Mote Avenue gate end and just wait for the second group to tire themselves out before going home.
Now it was getting nicely dark when we heard voices approaching from the far end of the footpath. "Keep your noise down lads" the scout master said "and we will surprise them". As we were some way down the embankment we could hear voices but not so clearly as to know who was doing the talking or what they were saying.
When they were nearly on top of us the scoutmaster shouted, "Get em lads" and the chase was on. Unfortunately it was not the other scouts, that we had by now lost entirely, but several ladies out for a quiet walk before retiring. They all proceeded to run away from us shouting "You dirty old men", “Leave us alone you dirty old men". It did not seem appropriate to follow them but shortly after the police arrived and spent some time questioning the principals of our scoutmaster.
As it turned out by the time we jumped out on the women it was probably nine thirty, on speaking to the other lads when we met the following week most of them through boredom had gone home by eight thirty.
I remember a couple of the lads from our school who were extremely keen on fishing being in the news when they dragged a dead body out of the lake. Thinking back they must have been scared stiff, glad it wasn't me that found it.
The Mote Skating rink
I do remember skating over the lake one year while still at school. There were dozens and dozens of people young and old just playing on the ice. Thinking back it would have been a disaster of it had cracked. Can anyone remember the year though
The Mote Cricket Ground
Mote Park the venue for the Mote Cricket Club and at times Kent games as well; I admit I know nothing about the game apart from slogging a few balls about in the bomb site behind our house in Brewer Street. I am sure that in the future someone will show what a plebeian I am and write something pretty swish about it though
Fishing
An older cousin who lived a few streets away took me fishing. I remember this cousin giving me a good clip around the ears because a hearse went past with a body in and I didn’t lift my school cap as a mark of respect (I've only just remembered this I must have a word with him).
I have fond memories of my time spent fishing here even if I didn’t catch much, I still remember the smells and the sounds and the open space that was so unreal. You Shepway people were spoiled rotten having this on your doorstep
Putting Green
The Park had a putting green, pretty good fun too and I heard if you were rich you could play something called golf (what the heck was that).