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.