June 23, 2015
Lenham, England: Change of country
I WAS lucky to get away from Calais last night. This morning the staff of My Ferry, the company I'd used, lost their jobs. I felt for them because their previous employers had gone bankrupt and they'd put their own money and found new investors to get their ships sailing again. But now European competition laws have forced Eurotunnel, which runs the underground link, to sell its interest in My Ferry. The staff at Calais protested by starting a fire which closed the tunnel and the rest of the port.
Last night there was a ferry company, this morning there isn't. There are other operators but the ruling has reduced competition rather than protect it. It'll be interesting to see how the future turns out.
I left Dover this morning by a tiny road that climbed between dark hedges of bushes and scruffy trees. Drivers who used it as a cut-through to town and drove slightly too fast braked in surprise as they saw me. But I could hardly have been the first this way because I was on the National Cycle Route to Canterbury, neatly signposted by small blue signs that nobody but cyclists notices.
I could have had a flatter ride on the main road. Most traffic has long chosen the neighbouring motorway, but south-east England is densely populated and there are lots of reasons to drive between its often charming towns and London. A lot of people do that on the ordinary highway. So, no thanks.
It wasn't until this evening that I realised what a good choice I had made. The protests at Calais continued this morning and the tunnel stayed closed all day. That meant lorries heading towards it were forced to stop and park on the motorway in the hope of better news. Each hour brought more lorries and soon the motorway was closed to accommodate them. That forced ferry traffic on to the direct road which I had so wisely declined.
Instead, I passed the remains of the wartime airfield at Hawkinge, now a museum. The gates were closed but the polished fighter planes glistened on the grass.
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Incidentally, years back I proposed the BBC make a documentary telling the story of the Battle of Britain from the German side. That was considered a novel idea and I was given permission to ask help from the BBC's office in Germany.
I heard nothing for a couple of days. Then I got a call to say that there were plenty of associations for old airmen in Germany but that none of those for bomb crews could talk about the Battle of Britain.
I assumed it was a refusal, for whatever reason.
"Not at all," said the voice on the phone. "They say they never realised there had been a Battle of Britain. They say they were bomber crews and they went out bombing places. Sometimes it was Rotterdam, other days somewhere else, and sometimes London. They said they never enjoyed flying to London because of the defences, but they were bomber crews and that's what they did. They flew to London for a long time and then they were told to go and bomb somewhere else."
Only after the war did the Germans realise they had been in a Battle of Britain. It puts propaganda and national histories in perspective, doesn't it?
A happy meeting with Steph on the other side of Ashford. She rode south from her mother's to join me and together we finished a hilly ride through the hills of Kent.
Today's ride: 60 km (37 miles)
Total: 944 km (586 miles)
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