North Downs Way Day 11 - Folkestone to Dover

I set off for the final day of the North Downs Ways on a glorious early summer morning, with the gorse on Creteway Down almost unbelievable in its vibrancy. The views today were so much better than yesterday, with the sky clear and the sea clearly blue. I watched birds carrying large twigs proudly, like our dog Saffy carries a stick, doing their nest building work.

I had a couple of friendly chats with men out on Sunday walks, both commenting on how few people come and walk up here, the tourists preferring the town and the Harbour Arm. Their loss, this is beautiful walking.

As I passed the Valiant Sailor pub I got a great view back to Folkestone and the beach, and then a view forward to the cliffs I was aiming for.

The path was almost obscured by young cow parsley in which were swarms of insects that flew up as I brushed the vegetation.

The path passes the Battle of Britain memorial, on which uniformed military men were working on a photo shoot.

I looked back as the path progressed, and could see just how close I’d been to the edge of the cliffs. Quite retrospectively vertiginous.

A steep set of steps down into a gully and up again, and then the path clung to the cliff with the sea on my right and seaside villas on my left. Many had solar panels in their gardens, many had bowling green lawns. All had uninterrupted views of the Channel. It wasn’t clear enough to see France today, but through the haze I could see some of the huge numbers of ships that sail these waters.

Near the very appealing looking Cliff Top Cafe the path was closed, and I was rerouted for a few yards before curling round to the edge again. There was a massive land slip here 100 or so years ago, forming the Folkestone Warren, which is one of the few nature reserves created by landslip in the UK.  An information board told me that a lot of work has been done to protect these cliffs since then, but I did feel very near the edge.

I had a conversation with a woman hanging out her washing at the front of her chalet bungalow right on the cliff.  She agreed that it was a wonderful view, though suggested that she preferred it in this good weather.  Her husband, lying on a lounger in swimming trunks and sunglasses, did not stir.

Passing a solar powered communications tower, I wondered whether it was maybe for the coastguard.  This bit of Kent shoreline is very busy with the small boats that make the perilous journey to the UK.  It creates a great deal of feeling on both sides in this area, indeed when we arrived in Dover there was a very noisy demonstration from opposing groups, supervised by many police.  Looking at the placid sea today, it gave away nothing of the terror it must cause at night when the waves are high.

I was very glad to get away from the cow parsley paths and their annoying flies for a bit, down a gravelled lane which then led to a choice of route. I  could have gone straight on, on what looked quite a perilous path, barely clinging to the cliff. Or I could duck inland slightly. Having been in hairy situations on the SW coastal path, I took the inland route. It wasn’t as interesting, but it felt a lot safer.

Coming out into the cliff part again I met the pair of sisters that I’d met two days ago that were doing the NDW loop from Wye to Canterbury. They’d stayed in the fancy spa hotel I’d walked past as it was one of their birthdays.  It was great chatting to them, again, swapping stories of where we’ve stayed over the last couple of days.  I’m sorry I didn’t either take their names or their photos! Instead, here’s a photo of a mysterious concrete edifice that I’m told is an experimental radar reflector.

Shortly afterwards, I began to see Samphire Hoe country park between the cliff and the sea.  This was created from 5 million cubic metres of the chalk spoil dug from the Channel bed when making the tunnel.  There are some buildings at one end that house part of the tunnel’s ventilation system, and the rest of the space has been given over visitors, of which there appeared to be quite a few given the number of cars in the car park.I guess it’s better to have nodded to the environment with the wild flowers and landscaping, but the area seemed a bit sterile when viewed from the wildness of the landscape at the top of the cliff.

I could tell that Dover was approaching as I passed various buildings that appeared to be connected to war defences.  There were bunkers, look out posts and pillboxes, as over the centuries Dover has faced the threat of invasion more often than any other in Britain. These from the 1930s and 1940s were the first of many fortifications in the town that I encountered.

I’d moved away from the peace of the last few days, there was now the whirring of the tunnel ventilation systems to my right and the rumble of the A20 to my left.

It felt appropriate to be returning to earshot of a main road- the last few days have been away from it, but so much of the initial days of the North Downs Way has been snuggled up against one motorway or other that it felt like it was bookending the experience.

Coming down a steep hill towards the town, I shared the field with a number of horses.  One of them in particular was also being driven mad by the flies.  He had a face mask on (apologies, I don’t know the technical word for a horse face protector!) which was covered in the insects, and he’d been shaking his head and at one point running about trying to dislodge them.  I sympathised, and told him I felt very glad that I had hands, which had been able to flick them off my face and clothes as I’d progressed.  I’d not been able to stop them getting inside my clothes though, there was quite a flurry of fly corpses when I had a shower at the end of the walk.

Looking down towards the harbour there was a DFDS ferry waiting to leave and a P and O ferry chugging in.

Under the dual carriage way for the last time, with only a mile or so to go now. The underpass kicked me out onto King Lear’s Way, and then to Kings Ropewalk, both rather romantic names for a rather grimy suburb. But within moments I was away from the houses and out onto the slopes of Western Heights, part of Dover’s defences against invasion from the 18th century, for the last hill of the NDW. This is a huge area of a citadel, bastion, ditches and barracks, much of which is still visible.  I took a glimpse of the Citadel, just off the footpath, enjoyed the remains of a twelfth century Knights Templar church, and then headed to the Drop Redoubt, one of the extraordinary fortresses, where I was meeting David. 

We sat in the sunshine, looking out towards the Dover fort, whilst I drank the last thermos tea for the foreseeable future, and took advice from some passers by as to the best place to go for lunch. 

Then we made our way down the steep slope towards the sea.  I passed a Via Francigena marker in the pavement, which I photographed to send to my redoubtable walking friend Sophie.

And within moments we were at the water’s edge and I was at the end of the North Downs Way.

I’ve been asked often since last autumn, when I started this walk, what I think of it.  That answer has changed with the seasons and as I’ve progressed.  The beginning is quite close to large conurbations, quite often in enclosed woodland, and is noisy with the motorways, but it’s interesting to see the different towns that the path walks through.  The section in February was so muddy that it had felt like an endurance test or just a physical challenge, but there were some great open views. The two days a couple of weeks ago had moments of real joy, especially being by the Medway, coupled with some bits along the motorway that I wouldn’t repeat. This last four days has been spectacular walking, with today, although short, being a highlight. Though on this leg I have also had the benefit of perfect weather, which always helps!  On balance I think that when I look back on this walk I will regard it very fondly.  Though probably not the best of all the various long distance trails I’ve done, it’s been one I’ve enjoyed very much. It has demonstrated to me how far I’ve come psychologically since last year, and this last 4 day section from Thurnham onwards has served me very well for testing out some of my new kit. It has also provided training and reassurance that I’m capable of the Camino next month.  That’s the next walk, and after that, who knows?

Stats

Distance travelled - a measly 7.5 miles/12km

Total ascent - a similarly measly 615 feet/187 metres

Calories burned - 737, replaced at least three fold by lunch and ice cream.

Total distance since starting the walk - 141 miles The guide book says 130 miles, that’s 11 miles of periodically going the wrong way…..

Video of the day -

https://www.relive.com/view/v7O9Z2zDWL6