September 15, 2022
Day 9: Canterbury to Faversham
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We re-read our blog from 2012, about the trek from Folkestone to Dover and also about Canterbury. It was amazing how we seemed to think and write all the same things as now. So there we were in 2012, pushing the bikes up onto the white cliffs, being blasted by wind and rain, making little forward progress due to traffic and convoluted routes. But we did get to Canterbury, and found even then that the cathedral is walled off and charging a fairly hefty admission, though half then what it is today.
Reading that difficulties we may be facing now have all happened before, and of course that we survived, was fairly comforting. For this day, we started out with a further comforting thing, the idea that we would begin with the Crab and Winkle Way rail trail, to Whitstable. Everybody here loves this trail, and praises it as dead easy.
With this background, it was perplexing that we somehow had to noodle all around Canterbury before finding and firmly being on the thing. If you zoom in on the track above, you can see about 5 km of this nonsense. At least it's not just that we are idiots, because we encountered locals, sometimes more than once, also looking for the trail.
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All the effort we were putting in finding and cycling this 12.6 km route was actually just a fraction of the mental energy we were expending on some larger issues. The amount of noodling around needed to follow any route, the prevalence of single track (or worse) on the so called National Cycle Network, and the traffic in general were really making things not fun. We had looked longingly over to France from Dover, but we know we can not leave England for another month. We hope you readers do not conclude we are just too whiney, but we were (are) teetering on the edge of just going home.
This situation became much more complicated when we confirmed that my (Steve's) e-assist was caput. That opened all sorts of thoughts about whether the thing could be repaired - in London? in Paris? with parts Fedex'd from home, to Paris? Or, could I just pedal, with 20 pounds of e-assist dead weight (literally dead!), all the way to Marseille?
One of our fellow, but local, lost rail trail voyagers praised the bike shop, Herberts, in Whitstable. This information turned out to be a boon, because the NCN typically would have you by-pass the town, for fear you might see something of interest! But we were able to plan to ride right up the high street.
I phoned Herberts and spoke not to Herbert but to Keith, the present owner. He did not hold out a lot of hope, but he still invited us to come on by. So now as we rode, we asked ourselves - what do we do if Keith can do nothing? or, what if he can do something but needs a week to order parts? Could he rent us a bike? Would the bike have appropriate racks? Should we just take trains to interesting English cities until renting an ebike in Paris, etc. etc.
Before our fateful rendez-vous with Keith, we rolled onto the high street of Whitstable. It was really worth the detour, comprising a really long street of myriad small shops. We looked at each one and noted what exactly they were selling, asking ourselves where at home we would go for these things, if indeed they were available. I think the answer was about 50% not really seen at home and 50% Walmart!
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2 years ago
2 years ago
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Herberts bike shop was like the others on the street - small and crowded. unlike in some much larger venues we know, Keith not only immediately welcomed us in, but found a place in the jumble for both bikes, and to boot immediately set to listening to our story and seeing what he could figure out. This was not for a lack of work or customers, but just an ability to deal well with the space and time limitations that existed.
Every ebike has the same basic components, though some are differently placed, integrated, or disguised in various models. The first chore was to determine which component was causing my symptoms, which were mainly motor does not go, or sort of goes but rumbles, with no power. It was actually Dodie that had the brilliant idea that since her assist is identical to mine, and hers works, parts of mine could be connected to parts of hers, to see where my problem lies. And yes, when my rear hub motor was connected to her battery, controller, and LCD, it worked. as then easy to conclude that it was my "controller" that was at fault. The controller is a little silver box strapped to the back of the seat tube (in our case) and it is pretty much the brains of the whole system.
The most likely was that the thing got drowned in the rains on the cliffs above Folkestone. A lot of wires go in and out, and they theoretically pass through rubbery waterproof seals, but were they really waterproof?
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Keith had the idea of extensively blowing out the system with compressed air, to possibly dry any wet connections. We left him to it, with him saying to just leave the bikes right there (clogging up the shop) and to have a nice stroll in the town.
Of course I had spotted and noted the bakery as we cycled in, so that became our first destination. The bakery did not have a huge selection, and rather tended to the homely and donut -y side, but it was ok.
The street also had two or more fruit stores, and these seemed to have fine quality and selection. We liked the look of the figs, especially.
In these times of 24/7 Queen Eliabeth coverage and signage everywhere, it was interesting to see an obviously not so recent mural. Humourous!
We were thinking it might be a good idea, or necessary, to stay over in Whitstable, and this hotel caught our eye. It was closed just then, but it could have been interesting.
We walked out as far as the harbour, and found an active fishing fleet. There was also a company specializing in whelks, not that we really know what a whelk is. Had they had a hot one on a stick (or whatever) would I have tried one?
When we returned to Herberts, Keith had to report that he had not been able to coax the slightest sign of life from my e-assist. It was a good try, though. And Keith asked for no fee, since he said he had done nothing. We generally disagree with that approach, since he had used his time and had done everything possible. Oh well, we did at least buy a mirror to replace Dodie's, that lost its ability to stay in the bar end. Interestingly, the new one can only go on the right hand side, because that's where the cars are lurking in England. What a nuisance they are!
We pedaled out of Whitstable, with me struggling along. Or actually, we tried to pedal out. For some reason we soon found ourselves back at the bike shop. Let's try that again!
For a time then things went rather well. We found a road where we coud develop a bit of a rhythm, without constant stops to cross over to other sidewalks, and with not too much traffic. Soon we reached the Thames estuary, which I can report looks like ... water.
We also found those pleasant quiet lanes, lined by hedges, where also you have a chance to make some headway.
This all came to an end, when we came to a devilish puzzle that embarassingly, almost completely defeated us. It comprised a really strong barricade across the path, with definitely no way around or over, and a small, angled passageway through.
Dodie seemed to remember the Anderson's at this barrier, and that they had maybe leaned their bikes way down. But no, and even Steve's small handlebars were too wide to pass through, at any level.
We did some ranting about the "genius" who had designed this piece of bicycle infrastructure, and followed our only idea - loosening the handlebars and twisting them sideways. We got out our tools and did the deed, then struggling to get them quite straight on the other side. I certainly had my flame letter to Sustrans well drafted in my head by the time we could head off again.
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2 years ago
But found if one of us walked backwards and lifted the handlbars over the top we could usually squeeze the back end through without having to unload.
Good upper arm exercise.
2 years ago
2 years ago
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What we had earned by going through the barrier, was the right to puush the bikes along another single track dike top. My mental letter to Sustrans gained another paragraph for this.
After about a km, we reached, yes, the twin other impassable barrier the path. We were staring at this in disappointment and disbelief when a young woman on a fairly standard bike cruised up. "How do you go through this?" we yelped. "Well I just go wiggle like this", she demonstrated, and was off. DUH! That wiggle slips you through like butter!
I also figured out which genius built this bicycle puzzle. It was the one trying to hold back horses, that we saw grazing beyond. That's why it was built so strong, and why you have to have an IQ greater than a horse to get through. We flunked.
At about this time, my e-assist decided to sputter erratically, but encouragingly to life. What a "boost"! Usually electronics that are fried or drowned are dead for good. But this little show of life meant that maybe there was hope in further drying time!
All in all, now that it was about 4 p.m., we had covered about 30 kms! In former, naive times, Dodie had booked a hotel for us a total of about 70 kms from Canterbury, at Gravesend. In England, that appears to be an impossibly long distance. We looked for a hotel in nearby Faversham instead.
We washed up at a place called The Quay. They not only had a vacancy but also a rare garage for the bikes. We popped them in there. No need to worry about charging. My broken assist is remarkably economical on power. It still had 100%, but of course it had done nothing. And Dodie had 90%, because we had basically gone nowhere!
Well now, our room at the Quay has a bathtub, which should give some good relaxation therapy. And especially if the e-assist continues to limp along, we can reset our expectations and find a way to enjoy the England part of this tour. We've now booked a place in Rochester, which seems to be an interesting town, with a large (and free!) cathedral. Rochester is about 42 km from here . We gotta be able to do that. Right?
Today's ride: 33 km (20 miles)
Total: 302 km (188 miles)
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