To Dover

Dungeness is classed as a desert, which may explain why the rain stopped as I arrived there.  The roads were suspiciously wet though.  The whole area seems to be a huge bank of shingle, on which houses, lighthouses and a nuclear power station have been built.  It has the air of a faraway, slightly unkempt place with old boats looking abandoned here and there on the acres of shingle, and gardens struggling to grow.  It is charming but cold and windswept.

Yesterday was the first day I've worn long trousers all day - in the whole trip since 2013!  Either I'm getting old, or it's very unseasonal weather.  Possibly both.

My tent was in a nice sheltered spot near a bee refuge.  I slept well to a faint sound of buzzing, but never saw any bees.  The next morning started cold, but the sun was out and it soon warmed up.  By the time I'd dried the dew off the tent and packed up it was very pleasant and there was even a decent tail wind as I zipped along the sea front.  Where were white cliffs in the distance across the sparkling blue sea, but I don't know if it was Dover.  You never hear of the white cliffs of Folkestone. 

Leaving New Romney

The main road turned off and I continued on a rough road which gradually became a dreadful rutted roller coaster of a track.  Annoyingly, there was  a smooth concrete pathway to my right, but it was separated by a three foot high concrete sea wall.  Eventually there was a gap and I got onto the concrete,  making good progress past Dymchurch, all but hidden behind the sea defences.  The land behind the sea wall was roughly at sea level, so they would not have been able to see the sea even from a first floor window.

Dymchurch 

A bit of road and then I entered Hythe along the Royal Military Canal.  Hythe has quite a bit of traffic but there's a nice town hidden away from  the main road.   Breakfast time after nearly ten miles.  Then it was back on the lovely sea wall, living the dream and zooming along to Sandgate, which looked quite nice as I zipped past.  I couldn't see any sand except a small rectangular patch about the size of a cricket ... crease? (you know; 22 yards long by a few yards wide), among the vast mass of pebbles.

Royal Military Canal,  Hythe

HG Wells' sea front house, Sandend

One of many Martello towers

All of a sudden, I was in Folkestone, which had a lovely relaxed feel to it around the harbour area, with lots to look at.

Folkestone

I found out that the white cliffs I saw earlier start at Folkestone, with a socking great hill out of town.  At the top there were some great views, and also the Battle of Britain memorial to all who gave so much, with France in view across the channel.  I could have spent a lot more time there. It does somehow manage to convey a bit of the human aspect of war.

Looking back over Folkestone 

The route into Dover followed NCN route 2, a beautiful rolling tarmac path along the aforesaid white cliffs, eventually a lovely long descent down a valley before rejoining the roads in Dover, always on separate cycle paths but noisy and very different to the earlier route.  I had a look round the docks and rode along the rather attractive seafront, which ferry passengers never get to see.  This is the end of NCN route 2 which started at Lands End I think, so a milestone for me.

Dover in sight!