ben DOVER

As we drove from Weymouth to Dover to visit Sam and Jem for the weekend I began to notice that there is something very typical of the British countryside. The green rolling hills, sheep grazing in the distance, cute little cottages and …a 10 lane parking lot called freeways that bludgeon their way through it all. (note to self: Why do they call them freeways when they are never free of traffic and in Australia you even have to pay for them??).

Anyway, this weekend it was the first time we have had a chance to explore the eastern side of Britain. While those in the south say this is the equivalent of peering at you backside in a mirror, for us it was a good chance to drink lots of red wine with friends.

Despite autumn rains on the horizon, the weather decided to give us one last taste of summer with 2 glorious sunny days. What better thing to do than head out for a walk along the famous ‘white cliffs of Dover’.

And so with a humming of ….
. “There'll be bluebirds over
. The white cliffs of Dover,
. Tomorrow
. Just
. you wait and see.”

…. we trekked along the cliff edge with the calm blue English Channel to the east and imposing white cliffs below. While the girls were in heaven with enough chalk to make a school teacher happy (I am even sure Ms Marsh would be happy ….“look - It does get in”), Kathy and I spent most of the time preventing either of the children making a speedy descent 200m to the beach below.

It is no wonder that a glimpse of these chalk cliffs from the other shore continues to be a symbol of home to Britons. It certainly is the first sight the people on the 5243 ferries that seem to cris-cross the English Channel every hour get. Watching the ferry terminal from high up on the cliffs it was busier than a French brothel as they ‘came’ and went (sorry – that was bad wasn’t it!).

Looking out across the channel, the day was clear enough you could even see the nudist beaches on France – well at least the beach. I heard about an intrepid ozi traveller who commented after seeing the English Channel:
“The awe that I once held for the likes of Suzie Maroney for swimming such a body of water evaporated in a second. Bloody hell, I reckon I could swim it doing sidestroke”.

While Kathy was willing to dip her toe in the water, I made the more appropriate decision to sit in the local pub overlooking the beach, drink a few pints and consume a litre of oil with my fish and chips.

With the kids having finished rolling around in the seaweed, and the only sign of a bluebird being that of an Easyjet flight to France overhead, we ventured to Dover Castle. The castle sits proudly up on the hill and it is easy to see why it was such a great vantage point for the English to peer across the channel looking through their binoculars at all those French nudist beaches.

The castle has an interesting history with Romans, Saxons, early Normans and Nigels – although I cant be confident on the Nigel’s bit? While not as observant as Jem who has memorised the entire history dating back to when the Romans invaded in 43AD I did remember that Henry II was instrumental in the fortification of the current castle in the 1180’s. The castle even has one of Europe’s best-preserved Roman lighthouses (although I did overhear Kathy ask how the Romans got their electricity to power it).

A highlight was a tour through the labyrinth of tunnels under the castle used during the war for everything from masterminding the “miracle of Dunkirk evacuation” (I think others call this a retreat), through to hospital surgeries.

That night we consumed vast quantities of red wine and scotch and debated the philosophy of Christianity and its role in world destruction. What a perfect topic for the next days trip to Canterbury Cathedral – know to some as the Mother Church of the Anglican Communion and seat of the Archbishop of Canterbury – or if you are a atheist…lets not go there. It was not hard to notice the tower rising above the city skyline. Like so many churches in this part of the world they certainly know how to make a statement in the centre of town.

The weekend was finished with a fantastic lunch, more red wine and a long trip home past green rolling hills, sheep grazing in the distance, cute little cottages and …stuck in a 10 lane parking lot called a freeway.

Thanks Sam and Jem for a great weekend.