September 13, 2022
Day 7: Hastings to Folkestone
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We headed directly back to the seaside at Hastings, begin making our way northeast along the coast, to Folkestone. The beach and water, as always, looked rather Caribbean to me, very attractive.
Hastings extends for quite a distance along the waterfront. There are a few fun attractions, such as a pirate themed play park, and the little roller coaster pictured below.
There is a small hill at the east end of town, with some attractively jumbled houses around it. This hill however is not the end of hills at the east end. Rather there is a fair climb to get out of the Hastings area.
Harold Road was part of our route up and out of Hastings. The only reason I took this shot is that my brother happens to be named Harold. Although our family is not of English extraction, our grandfather was handed an English name on arrival as an immigrant in Canada, and our parents continued, giving Harold and myself traditional English names. So Harold has some legitimate tie to this region, where possibly the most famous English Harold got himself killed in 1066.
Toward the top of the climb out of Hastings we passed this fixer upper house. It was not for sale or anything, but with its multiple fireplaces just struck me as a fun potential project.
From the top of the hill, which is called Battery Hill, there is a view to the valley behind Hastings. We had been wondering why William the Conqueror and Harold would have climbed up to have their battle at Battle, but it seems more likely William landed to the east, and slid along the valley end up at Battle.
Once back down to the sea, near Petts Level, we could look forward to some flat seaside pedaling. But we immediately ran into a "road closed" sign, and a proposed diversion way out north and west. Of course, as usual, we ignored this, preferring to have whoever was closing the road prove that it was really impassable.
After a few km, we did indeed come upon a crew making a pretty good show of closing the road. But this was mostly show, as they had only really done a little bit of digging on one side. We went through them with no problem, exchanging jocular greetings as we went.
Despite the ease of crossing the road closure, we did continue to struggle with the English road situation through the day. It's not just the riding on the left side. The big problem is the general narrowness of the roads. This frequently means that even if cars are nominally over on their side, in practice they are swerving right toward you. The sign below acknowledges the problem at one point, on the National Cycle Network.
We also again ran into the perverse fact that the national cycle network is not something built for cycles, but rather an attempt to find a way for cycles on ways made for something else. For example, approaching Rye, the "cycle" path was clearly a walking path:
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For some time we could see the tower of the church at Lydd. This is sometimes called the Cathedral of the Marsh. For us, it was significant because it was a place where we could eat our lunch out of the rain. It is also one of the longest churches in the country!
From this point we again today recognized that our progress though the difficult English roads was not fast enough, as we followed the twiddling NCN routings. So we looked for something that could be usable but shorter. We jumped on a more direct road, but oh oh, much too much traffic and of course no shoulders or other saving grace.
Given this situation, we shifted gears again, and headed directly for the coast, where we had heard there was a causeway, possibly all the way to Folkestone. This at first did not seem quite true.
But yes, the hoped for path did appear, and in fact it turned out to be a beautiful way. It offered the seaside experience, and a dead smooth surface that powered us effectively on our way.
Here below is that seaside route, with the towns along the way.
Folkestone is again one of those huddled and picturesque places. Our spot is right in the foreground - the Ship Inn. The former owners have just retired, but continue to run the B&B, in the back. Our top floor spot in the property features two rooms - a bedroom and a sitting room. These are very comfortable, and both rooms feature large screen TV. Normally this is irrelevant, but this week absolutely everybody, including us, is watching the wall to wall Queen coverage. As we came into the B&B, the owners were watching the coffin being loaded onto a plane in Scotland, and they were observing every detail. I think the Queen may have reached Buckingham Palace by now, and tomorrow will transfer to Westminster to lie in state. The TV is saying people will have to queue for 30 hours if they want to file by! Wow, when were at Buckingham last week we thought we had seen the maximum in terms of crowding. But London in the next days is going to be just insane. As we loop around now toward the city, we will have to actually avoid it!
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Today's ride: 67 km (42 miles)
Total: 249 km (155 miles)
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You being along the South Coast reminded me that in the late nineteen sixties I spent three years working in London and weekends cycling and walking in the home counties staying in Youth Hostels with a group which included Mary my wife of 51 years.
There were no GPS apps then and we used the Ordnance Survey 1 inch to the mile for walking and Batholomews half inch to the mile (just over 1:100,000) for cycling. There were far fewer motor vehicles around then and we navigated using the abundance of small roads and lanes and were seldom bothered by motor vehicles.
They were different times!
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You hadn't quite reached Folkestone when you stayed at the Ship Inn, as doubtless you realised when you tackled the hill next morning.
The Ship Inn is in Sandgate, where the tunnel beneath the Channel runs under your feet. It has great significance for me - the Ship, not the tunnel - because it's where I drank my first pint. I spent my last family holidays in Sandgate, a town I still love and visit on the rare occasions I go to England.
You didn't have the weather but, in summer and on a good day, you can just about make out traffic in France. I used to look out and wonder what was over there. Now that I live in France, I look out and see it as home, of course.
Had you gone through Hythe, you'd have seen the wonderful model railway that runs something like 25km along the coast to the Dungeness peninsula. That is a regular for me. A man with a lot of money bought the land and built the tracks along it, complete with signals and stations. The locomotives are largely models of the expresses that ran in England at that period - the 1920s - but there is also at least one Canadian engine.
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