Are we nearly there yet?

It's only a (longish) day's ride from Whitstable to home, so the end is definitely in sight.  However, as I've said before, it's about the journey, not getting somwhere.  And I'm not taking the direct route.  As I left Margate, a lump of land appeared across the sea in front of me.  Could it be the other bank of the Thames?  Well, no.  It was the Isle of Sheppey, about which I've just told you all I know.  And then later there's the Isle of Grain, which is not really an island.  Maybe it was once.

The hotel was a real treat.  I dined well, but I didn't sleep that well.  Somehow I've developed a streaming cold so I was continually blowing my nose in the night, and I had to sleep on my back to stop getting all blocked up.  Added to that, I've got a painful crack on the dry skin on my heel, so I smothered it either E45 and then had to dangle my foot out of the bed while it dried.  I'm not saying this to get sympathy,  it's just how it is.  But you might be forgiven for thinking I'm trying to make it look hard - well, it does seem to be hard this year. Just look at previous years to see how 'easy' it normally is.

However, it's amazing what an 18 course unlimited breakfast can do for your spirits.  The weather forecast for today is cold, rainy, but less windy than yesterday,  down from 17mph to 10mph, AND it's gone round to the north. I will be going north to get to the Isle of Sheppey, but never mind. 

I left Faversham along a track down the creek - at least that was the plan.  By the way, why are there so many creeks in North Kent?  Faversham,  Dartford, Deptford,  and many others that I encountered today.   Is it because they are very short?  The Medway is a river, but I can't think of any others between Sandwich and London.

Back to the Faversham creek.  Or not in fact.  The cyclepath had a horrid bike-unfriendly kissing gate.   Just after I'd unpacked everything and lifted my bike over the gate, a nice French lady walked past and told me there are another five of them.  She suggested an alternative path, marked as a cycle route on my map, bur nobody had told the farmer.   It went across a wheat field, through long grass, a few nettles, a couple of kissing gates, a field of cows, and two very narrow bridges.   It was fun, in an annoying sort of way.   

First attempt

Bad track

Bad bridge

The rest of the morning was half more tracks with a few unfriendly gates, and half along the real back lanes of Kent, very beautiful,  a bit undulating and with lots of water.  I came within a couple of miles of Sittingbourne but turned north towards Sheppey, through a very industrial area around the M2 before stopping for 11s at Iwade, not yet on the island.  I also got some Lem-sip capsules which seem to have tamed my cold.

Another creek

NCN 1, with a bike gate - but it's locked

Garden of England

First impressions of Sheppey are bad.  The approach is on a busy road, with lifting bridge and parallel railway and cycle path, overpassed by an even busier A249 on a huge high bridge.  Once on the island, the two roads continue through a couple of miles of swampy nothingness, with a few cows grazing. A line of low hills to the north is where it all happens.  And by all, I mean, not much.

Approaching Sheppey

Marshlands

Castellated church at Eastchurch 

I looped up the hill and then back down south again to Harty Ferry, which has nothing but a church and a pub, which was shut for a wedding.   Then up and round again to Leydown-on-sea at the far east of the island, where the fun starts.  It has a few caravan parks, a pie and mash shop, chip shops several amusement arcades and a mobility scooter showroom, in addition to a big sandy beach with beach huts.  A rough road carried on several miles south to Shellness, a private hamlet of perhaps a dozen houses overlooking Whitstable opposite .  At my tea stop the lady serving me referred to Shellness as "the Wicker Man people" which matches my impression.

Leydown-on-Sea

Shellness

View to Whitstable,  from Shellness

It was idyllic in a little sun trap as I idly had my tea and cake, then booked a campsite in the middle of the island.  Despite the forecast, I'd had no rain save a few spots early on, and quite a bit of sunshine.   But as I rode north, dark clouds were gathering over Essex, and the rain started just before I reached the campsite.  Just a shower.

Bliss

Teatime visitor

Dark clouds over Essex

The lady at the campsite was concerned about me because it's going to be cold tonight (4 degrees), and she offered me an electric hookup and heater at no extra charge.  But my tent is so small I can't see how I could safely have it in the tent, so I said no.  I hope I won't regret that.  It was quite cold in the rain, but I waited maybe half an hour, and the rain stopped, the wind dropped, and I set my tent up in the warm sun.

Ramsgate, Broadstairs, Margate and Whitstable

Ramsgate is a classy place.  You approach along a sort of grand balcony with Edwardian terraces overlooking the cosy harbour.  Sailings to exotic places in Europe.  And now, Britain's biggest Wetherspoons, the Royal Victoria Pavilion, a cross between the Temperate House at Kew and Wembley Arena, right on the sandy sea front.  It's vast, with a grand staircase leading to the upstairs seating.  And toilets, of course.  You could imagine having a wedding there. 

Ramsgate

Harbour

Wetherspoons 

Terrace

I had a disturbed night, woken a few times by foxes who sounded quite close to the tent.  What if the were nosing round inside my flysheet, aiming to steal my shoes, or my gloves?  I imagined walking barefoot into Ramsgate to buy replacements.  Nothing was missing in the morning,  but there was a very strong smell of foxes.  It was grey, breezy, and cold.  Again.  It was only a couple of miles to Ramsgate, along the low ochre-coloured cliffs.

I was following NCN (that's National Cycle Network, Ruth) route 15, subtitled the Viking Way, around the Isle of Thanet.  Staying low profile - I decided that putting horns on my helmet might stand out too much.  After Ramsgate, a couple of miles along a clifftop drive lined with large houses, and I came to Broadstairs.  It feels like a Cornish village, nestling in a little cove with twisty narrow back streets.  In two ticks I was out the other side, passing more cliff-side mansions.

Ramsgate 

Next to the Curiosity Shoppe.
The next house along was called
Dickens Cottage!

Clifftop riding

A mile or three later and I turned the north east corner of Thanet and Kent,  which might be called Foreness Point.  It was now westward all the way back to London, more or less.  And the dream of a wind was now a headwind, still 15mph.

Foreness Point

Margate in the distance 

There was a nice path along the low cliff all the way (a few miles) to Margate.  Margate is big, not as big a deal as Deal maybe but perhaps more famous.  It is, or was, a proper seaside holiday town with lashings of candy floss and ices, an expanse of sand and a fairly deserted harbour.  But despite the Turner contemporary art gallery, it's obviously seen better days.  I couldn't  find anywhere to stop, so I struggled on a few miles to Westgate for an early elevenses.  Some silly person in Margate has decided that the promenade is closed to cycles between May and September, despite it being the Viking Way, with the only alternative being up a few flights of steps.

Margate

I was now leaving the Isle of Thanet, and I cycled past several miles of low-lying fen type land on the sea wall, before arriving at Reculver, site of an old castle with impressive remains, two towers visible for miles across the flat landscape.   The Vikings stopped at Margate, and NCN 15 was now The Oyster Bay Trail.

Black clouds over Reculver

Reculver

Black clouds had been gathering ahead for a while, and I was hit by a strong squally gust of wind.  The wind strengthened considerably,  and the rain was coming!   I dashed into the café,  after only six miles, but I doubted whether I could ride into that wind.  

I was getting a bit fed up of riding on the sea wall, where you are exposed to the full force of the wind, so it was a nice surprise to go on a grassy track over a hill to Herne Bay, where I rejoined the sea wall.  Consequently I didn't see most of it as it was up the cliff.   There was a bit of it by the coast, more ices and seaside attractions, and then I pushed on to Whitstable, famous for oysters.  

Herne bay

More sea wall

Unfortunately I didn't see much of the Whitstable seaside because I dashed into town to avoid another squall, had lunch, and when I came out, the route never went back to the sea front.  I think Whitstable is missing a tourist opportunity there - I would have ridden along the coast if I could, but it leads to a dead end.

Over my late lunch I pondered my options.  A campsite in 30 miles was too far, a campsite in 20 miles was not yet open for the season , and a hostel in 20 miles was £79 for an eight person room.  And 90% rain was forecast into the evening.  I decided to ride to Faversham and investigate B&B options.  It was a nice ride, inland and much more sheltered.

Looking back to Whitstable 

Faversham is a lovely old place, lots of interesting buildings to see.  It's not on the coast, but you have to go there to cross Faversham Creek.  Anyway, I ended up in a hotel just a mile up the A2 (eek!), and got warm, dry, clean, fed, recharged and rested.

There's been a huge amount to see in not many miles, but my! What a lot of weather!

Wharf by Faversham Creek 

Detail of doorway

Faversham

Thanet

Dover.  The end of NCN route 2 is also the start of NCN route 1, which broadly goes up the east of the country ending at the north of Unst, the northernmost of the Shetland Islands.  I wasn't going that far, but I set off along route 1, up the big hill out of Dover, curling round the castle.

Dover Castle

I was on top of the Kentish world, but I had to go and spoil it.  There's a small place called St Margarets at Cliffe just round the corner from Dover, and I felt the need to explore it.  It went all the way back down to beach level.  But on the plus side, there was a kiosk serving toasties on the beach.

St Margarets at Cliffe

Surprisingly soon after the climb out of Cliffe, the road went down (another long traffic-free descent) to the seaside, the coastline turned north and became flat!  I soon came to Deal, which should not be dismissed lightly.  It's a big deal - it's big (and it's Deal, obvs), maybe as big as Folkestone or even Dover based on my one-dimensional ride through them.  I didn't  stop though as I was hoping to get a deal at Sandwich for tea.

Descent

Kingsdown 

Deal pier

Deal

Deal Castle

The ride to Sandwich was across country on an alleged "no cars" road but there were several cars.  When I got there I was nearly defeated by the fiendish one-way system in my quest for a tea stop, but a local showed me a secret route through the churchyard. I found a rather strange cafe with no sandwiches and only one type of cake, a very small morsel for £3.50, so I had porridge instead, which seemed to be almost free.  Sandwich is worth a look round, lots of picturesque old buildings, but take a ball of string in case you get lost.

Sandwich

Holy Ghost Alley

Leaving Sandwich 

I was now entering the Isle of Thanet, which is no longer an island, at the eastern extremity of Kent.  Ramsgate, Broadstairs and Margate are the main towns.  According to a local memorial stone, Thanet is where English history started, when the Vikings invaded in AD 453. 

 

I could have done a long stint after tea and gone round the end to a campsite along the top, but I wimped out of facing the headwind,  and stopped just short of Ramsgate, in a campsite on the site of an old stately home, Nethercourt Touring Park.  It currently has just one campervan and me, and a number of foxes which are apt to steal shoes.  Tent pitched in a sheltered spot, shoes still on  my feet, and evening meal in a coastal pub.  All good so far.