Exploring Dover

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I went on a lil day trip last week to Dover to see what all the fuss was about. The cliffs were pretty impressive, although the town itself didn't seem anything out of the ordinary. In fact, the town seemed to have a strange dynamic of Nationalistic Britishness. Being so close to France that my cellphone stopped working, locals here will go out of their way to let you know you're in England. For me this moment occurred when a pub owner came out onto the street and asked me how many photos I had taken of his building. I said just the one, and he said ok, that will be 10p. He was joking of course, but I got the feeling that tourists weren't his favourite customers. And perhaps fair enough, as the cliff paths were full of large groups of French and German school kids all trying to stand as close to the edge as possible without their teachers having full blown heart attacks. 

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The roman house was an interesting stop; it reminded me of the sort of small-town-hand-drawn-then-photocopied-onto-faded-yellow-paper signage which seems to be common in small volunteer-run museums back home in New Zealand. Apart from the actual roman house, which was very much real, the ugly 1970's concrete block building felt comical in a homely and welcoming way. Do check it out if you're in Dover.

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 I usually like to find a nice-looking pub and have some lunch and a pint when I'm exploring a new town, but although the main street looked old, English and quaint, there didn't seem to be anything more than multiple Weatherspoons around. Don't crucify me, I appreciate a well-priced spoons when the occasion calls for it (a cheap and boozy night that has faded to a blurry memory by morning, for example), but I don't think it makes me a snob to choose something with a better beer selection and a more lively atmosphere. There's no emotional connection here for me. I'm not English after all.

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What I really came for was the hike and the view. I would have loved to have visited the castle and old war bunkers cut into the cliffs (Dr. Evil eat your heart out), but I had the train to catch in a few hours and the cliffs were more of a priority. Both Hike and view delivered. With it being too windy for selfies I settled for turning my camera on the port and other people I came across. One woman walking solo like myself, reminded me of a character from an Agatha Christie novel. I wish I'd had a chat with her.

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The dozens of elderly French and English couples eating cream teas in the cliff-top cafe were both terrifying and endearing. I was hungry after my walk (that is, my walk without my lunch and pint!) so I decided to brave the sea of walking frames and old newspapers, and have a cream tea too. and it was delicious, as cream tea will always be. From the cafe window I could see the French coast in the distance.

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As I walked back along the sea front to town and the train station I decided I needed a bit of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in my ears, and the music and the rough surging waves were the perfect combination. A day well spent.

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Thanks for reading,

Make sure to look out for next Sunday's post about Kallida Festival!

x G x

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