Automatic Translation

Tuesday, June 14, 2022

Road to Home 2022 Day 30: Shepherdswell - Dover

22 km (including 4 km from Dover Marina to the White Cliffs of Dover)

For pilgrims through time, the truth is elsewhere; the true place is always some distance, some time away. Wherever the pilgrim may be now, it is not where he ought to be, and not where he dreams of being

Zygmunt Bauman, From Pilgrim to Tourist (1996)


In his description of St. Bernard's Way, Tony Maskill-Rogan offers two possible routes from Shepherdswell to Dover, both the same length. The first follows the well-maintained, signed route of the North Downs Way and the Via Francigena, while the second, which he describes as "more direct and more scenic," follows other footpaths and swings around past the ruins of St. Radigund's Abbey to enter Dover from the west. 

More direct and more scenic both sounded good to me! And the broad, well-marked North Downs Way was getting to be a bit of a bore: for the last stage of my walk, I didn't mind a return to the challenges and excitement of the footpaths I had been walking north of London. Dodging curious cattle and speeding lorries, being careful not to "worry" the sheep, negotiating my way through patches of shoulder-high grass and fields of equally tall rapeseed, finding myself on the wrong side of a barbed wire fence because I had missed a gate hidden in a hedgerow and having to backtrack half a kilometre to get around to the other side... All those familiar old challenges were back on this alternative route to Dover! ๐Ÿ˜

I don't know what the official Via Francigena route is like, but the route I took was indeed scenic. I descended from a chalk ridge into the village of Temple Ewell, and stopped at the cafรฉ in Kearnsey Abbey Gardens for a cup of tea and a scone with clotted cream and raspberry jam. 






Kearnsey Cream Tea

After this very civilised and very English snack, I returned to the path, continuing over the fields to St. Radigund's Abbey Farm, where, as the name suggests, the ruins of the abbey have been partially incorporated into the farmhouse and outbuildings. 





After climbing up and down a few more ridges, Dover Castle finally came into view, and the sea beyond it! 






Close enough to France for the fleur-de-lis to flourish! 


I wound my way down the ridge toward the town, stopping to talk to a young man with a ponytail in his beard who had carried a lawn chair up to the top of the ridge and was sitting in it smoking a cigar. He asked where I had walked from, and at this point, that's inevitably a conversation starter... I took advantage of the opportunity to ask him a few questions about Dover, and as I was walking away, I thought, I should have asked him the best place to get fish and chips! It was too late, but... When I did go to get fish and chips later in the day, I saw the same fellow  again there! So it was obviously the right place! ๐Ÿ˜

I walked into Dover town centre along Folkestone Road, where there are a lot of B&Bs, including the one where the two ladies from New Zealand are staying. But I had booked a hotel in the marina, and I was glad I did, because the man at an airbnb I stayed in a few nights ago used to live in Dover, and precisely on Folkestone Road, and he had said (without being asked) that Dover was "a bit rough and ready" and the marina was the only really nice area. My waterfront hotel certainly looked impressive... 



... but for the rate I paid, I don't get a sea view, or spa access, or even breakfast! My room is round the back, above the service entrance, where the bar staff take out the recycling ๐Ÿ˜‚. 



Nonetheless, it's a fancy enough hotel that they hide the towels in the bathroom drawer... And there I was, prancing about the room naked, dripping on the carpet and looking all over for a towel! ๐Ÿ˜‚

No need for a spa: I was quite happy to settle for a nice hot bath and a cup of tea, change into my summer dress (which is also my nightdress, but nobody need know that except you and I) and go out to explore Dover! 

First things first: a stamp for my pilgrim credential. I got one at the tourist information office, popping into the free museum upstairs to see the amazing bronze age boat, dating from around 1500 BC! 



Then I found my way, after several attempts, to the top of the White Cliffs of Dover. It took some time because Dover is not a pedestrian-friendly city. It is cut in half by the four-lane highway leading to the ferry terminal, which can only be crossed at a couple of points, and further compartmentalised by an impenetrable block of Soviet-style flats between the highway and the waterfront, ten floors high and perhaps half a kilometre long, without a single passageway or gap, to make sure as many residents as possible can enjoy a sea view! While on the other side of the highway is an immense shopping mall... It took me a while to negotiate my way around all these obstacles, as well as the ferry terminal itself, and find my way to the top of the cliffs. Signposts tantalisingly labelled White Cliffs, with the walking man symbol generally associated with pedestrian routes, were few and far between, and not to be relied upon: one of them pointed right into the middle of the four-lane highway! 



When I did get to the bottom of the cliffs, and subsequently to the top of them, it was worth the trouble, and very well organised as it is a National Trust site (which gave me an opportunity to obtain another stamp on my pilgrim credential, and an extra pair of National Trust hiking socks, now that I have tested them and found them worthy). 


White cliffs incorporating part of the old city walls




People live right under the cliffs! 


"The last pub in the civilised world" ๐Ÿ˜…



The ferry port - I see now why they are reluctant to take foot passengers! The whole city seems reluctant to take people on foot... 





From the top of the White Cliffs of Dover I could clearly see similar white cliffs across the Channel in France: the first stage of the Via Francigena in France, from Calais to Wisques. 

I look forward to walking over the top of those cliffs, and looking back at Dover, when I resume my Long Walk in France! 


Last port of call for the day: Castle Fish & Chips


Fish & chips & mushy peas 









Vintage postcard in the Dover museum 




Morning update: went for a stroll up to the fortifications of the Western Heights, but there isn't much to see there, other than the view over Dover and the foundations of a medieval church of the Knights Templar. 



View of my next destination: the train station! 






Defences built to protect against the French during the Napoleonic Wars


Drop Redoubt Fort


Tea and cake before catching the train! 



Leeds - Dover 756 km
30 days

Monday, June 13, 2022

Road to Home 2022 Day 29: Canterbury - Shepherdswell

18 km

My dearly beloved sons, it would have been better not to have undertaken a noble task than to turn back deliberately from what you have begun: so it is right that you should carry out with all diligence this good work which you have begun with the help of the Lord. Therefore do not let the toilsome journey nor the tongues of evil speakers deter you. 

- Pope Gregory, to St. Augustine and his monks when they returned to Rome, daunted by the task of travelling to Britain to convert the entire nation to Christianity, AD 597

I'm in Canterbury: so now what? 

I set out to walk from my birthplace, Leeds, to Canterbury, traditionally the top pilgrimage destination in the UK. But, like Santiago de Compostela and Finisterre, Canterbury comes with the option of a bonus hike to the sea: Canterbury to Dover, 31.5 km. This coincides with the first stage of the Via Francigena. It can be divided into two easy days of hiking with an overnight stop in Shepherdswell, just over halfway. 

I will complete this portion of the Via Francigena and/or St. Bernard's Way on this trip, so that I can pick it up directly in Calais when I resume walking the next section in France at a later date. 

But first, I wanted to make the most of my morning in Canterbury. I began by attending matins at 7:30 in the Cathedral, followed by a full English breakfast at my lodgings within the Cathedral precinct. By the time I had finished, the morning services were over and Cathedral was open to visitors, so I went in again to wander about freely. At 9 am there were practically no other visitors there; the only other people about were members of the Cathedral staff, construction workers involved in the restoration work, and uniformed students from nearby King's School, the oldest school in England, on their way to classes after attending the 8 o'clock communion service.



















The Pilgrims' Window at Canterbury Cathedral 

I then returned to my room for a cup of tea while enjoying the view of the Cathedral from my window one last time.





Then I checked out of the lodge and returned to the Cathedral to attend the brief daily Bell Ceremony in honour of the fallen in war. As I have dedicated this walk to the memory of my great-grandfather, who was killed in France at the age of 28 in 1916, and to his first wife, who died in childbirth at only 19 years old in 1906, I wrote out a prayer in their memory on a post-it to be placed on the altar during the next communion service.




Then I picked up my bag and left the precinct of Canterbury Cathedral, for the first time since arriving in the city the previous afternoon! It was quite a shock to leave behind that oasis of peace and sanctity and find myself out on the street, back in the real world, where teenagers may be found drinking beer out of cans at 11 o'clock on a Monday morning... 

I followed the Via Francigena from its starting point at the Cathedral to the ruins of St. Augustine's Abbey, built on order of King Ethelbert of Kent following his conversion to Christianity by St. Augustine in the year 597. St. Augustine and forty of his monks were was sent by Pope Gregory I to convert the pagan English, after the Pope had seen pale, blond English children for sale at the slave market and pitied them, making his famous comment "these are not Angles, but Angels!" But when St. Augustine disembarked in France, he lost courage and turned back, returning to Rome to tell the Pope he couldn't do it. Gregory insisted, and  Augustine set off again, sailing to France and then travelling overland, it is believed. 




He started from the top, preaching to the King, who was converted. His wife, Queen Bertha, probably had something to do with the success of Augustine's mission, as she was already a Christian. The evangelised King then appointed St. Augustine as the first Archbishop of Canterbury. 

The original Anglo-Saxon church of St. Augustine was destroyed by the Normans following their 11th-century conquest of Britain; they rebuilt the Abbey in grander style, as large as the Cathedral and even more important than it, as Anglo-Saxon kings and archbishops were originally buried here. 

But following Henry VIII's dissolution of the monasteries, it was destroyed, taken apart, using the stones to build the King's new summer palace. 



What the abbey once looked like, and the ruins today











My next and final stop before leaving Canterbury was St. Martin's, the first church established by St. Augustine upon his arrival in England and therefore the oldest church in the English-speaking world. Unfortunately, it was shut. Or perhaps fortunately - otherwise I would never have got out of the city and back onto the trail!! 



The Via Francigena starts outside Canterbury Cathedral, but it's definitely more than 1800 kilometres to Rome as the sign says!! 





Between Canterbury and Dover the Via Francigena coincides with the North Downs Way, and with St. Bernard's Way which I have been following all the way from Yorkshire. 


Today's stretch was fairly monotonous once it left Canterbury, crossing vast fields of barley and never-ending expanses of grass and wildflowers. The only excitement was spotting the sea, far off in the distance, from the top of a low hill! For as I mentioned the other day, Kent is not flat. I am now walking in the Kentish Downs, and downs inevitably come with ups!! ๐Ÿ˜…

The ancient church in the village of Patrixbourne was open, and though there was no-one there, a do-it-yourself pilgrim stamp was on the table. Mysterious markings beside the south door turned out to be sundials, of use to a population without pocket watches to know when to expect services to be held in the church, and lines and crosses, possibly made by pilgrims on tbeir voyage out, and then back home. 



























There was nothing to eat in any of the villages along the way, and I had foolishly failed to pick up supplies before leaving Canterbury, still stuffed with my Full English Breakfast. So I sat down in a grassy field and ate the last of my peanuts and raisins and an energy bar. Then I hiked the rest of the way into Shepherdswell, where I am accommodated chez Susanna, who rents her three upstairs rooms to pilgrims and other visitors. Here I finally met some other pilgrims!! Two ladies from New Zealand, on their first day on the Via Francigena. They intend to walk all the way to Rome, 90-day Schengen visa restrictions permitting. We dined in our hostess's kitchen, on pasta dishes purchased from the local co-op, and I gave them my pocket knife, since I won't be able to take it on the plane with me when I fly back to Italy!