To Dover

June 13, 2022

Our ferry departs at 9:55, and we’re advised to arrive 45 minutes early. Taking no chances we leave our hotel about 8:30 for the three mile ride to what I think is the terminal for DFDS, the line we’ve booked with. I say I think because the area is huge, supports three carriers, and the loopy road layout through the huge sprawling port is hard to interpret from looking at the map. Hard for me and hard for Garmin as it turns out, because it’s gotten us wrong as we see when we arrive and are channeled into a different direction that we have mapped. As we’ll realize later, RideWithGPS HAS mapped us in a reverse route, backwards through the French arrival customs gate, the landing docks, the UK customs gate (which is on the French side of the channel), the French departure customs gate, and finally to the departure kiosk where we check in.

All of this loop is a full mile, which we avoid for now. It’s actually only two miles before we arrive at the kiosk, going the correct and only allowable direction. The third mile will come after our tickets are validated (we bought them through the DFDS website last night for the bargain price of 25 British pounds total, for two adults with bike).

There’s confusion when we check in though because our agent tells us there is no 9:55 departure this morning (and I’ll add here how wonderful it was that she speaks English fluently so we can understand the situation). She’s surprised when I tell her we bought them just last night, and as I’m look at them again on our phone I confirm it’s for the right date and time of day.

So she takes the phone from me, zooms in to read the fine print, and observes that I’ve unfortunately bought a departure from Dover to here by mistake. The website apparently intermixes departures from either direction by time of day and I was just focused on choosing the most convenient time. Embarrassing, but not catastrophic. She pulls our ticket up on her screen and amends our booking for the next departure from this end of the line which leaves at 10:30. She observes that I’ve made a second rookie mistake too, and had booked ourselves for two passengers with bicycle, not for two passengers with two bicycles.

She also offers an apology for needing to charge an additional 10 pounds, because I’m no longer getting the bargain rate available for advance booking through the website.

There are two problems here. One is that I reserved space for two passengers but only one bicycle.

So finally we’re through, bike nearly a mile to the front of the line at the landing dock with stops along the way at the French and then the UK customs gates, and wait there for departure. A half hour later, we and four other bikers are the first to board.

A huge ship. It’s great that the bikes go to the front - first on, first off.

Onboard, Rachael and I spend some time talking through where and for how long we’d like to spend in the Dordogne and Lot when we get there, because October is just around the corner. Then I wander out to the deck to look around and quickly realize how different the coming three months are likely to be. Two of the bikers that boarded when we did are on deck chatting, so I chat with them. They speak my language! Soon another chap horns in, a biker also, and we have an animated conversation about bikes, biking, touring, mountains, the works for about twenty minutes until almost too late I remember I wanted to look around and get a photo of the French coast that is rapidly receding.

The next three months are certainly going to be different. I enjoyed a lengthy conversation with these three chaps returning to England from cycling in France. The two on the left biked from St. Malo to Poitiers and then Calais, and the one on the right took his bike and van for two weeks in the Dolomites.

Cape Blanc-Nez, one of the capes we biked across yesterday.

I go back downstairs to continue urgent planning discussions, and almost forget until it’s too late that we’d like to see England from the sea. We quickly pack up and rush to the deck, just in time.

The White Cliffs of Dover welcome us to England.

The Victorian South Foreland Lighthouse, the first lighthouse in the world to use electricity, rises above the cliffs.

The Port of Dover, the cliffs, Dover Castle, a gull.

The port in Dover is every bit as sprawling and confusing as the one in Calais, but it’s been made very simple for arriving bicyclists - as we knew it would be, thanks to Polly Low’s advice in a comment on this journal. Just follow the red line as it meanders its way through the maze for the next mile. It really couldn’t be made much simpler, as you’ll see in the video.

Under Polly Low’s tutelage we knew what we expected on arrival in Dover. Bikes just follow the red line all the way out of the huge terminal. A very easily navigated, well thought out system.

I stopped here to take a photo of the signs warning you to look the correct direction, presumably to help train arrivals to look on the correct side of the road for traffic. And then this guy showed up and flashed us a V, one of the three I was chatting with on the ferry.

Video sound track: Just In Time, by Gerry Mulligan

At the end we have a bit of confusion finding our room, because some of the nearby streets are torn up and barricaded for maintenance at the moment. Near where Garmin has led us to Rachael looks up and spots the White Horse Inn. That’s our place, we both agree so I walk in the open side door to check in. The woman there, thoughtfully speaking in English, is surprised and says with regrets that they don’t let rooms. So we recheck our reservations and see that we’re staying at Castle Hill Inn right around the corner. We were right that we’re staying at the White Horse but that’s in Maldon, a week up the road.

The White Horse Inn, which we first stopped in and caused confusion by claiming we had a reservation. Confusing because they don’t offer rooms. We got mixed up when we saw it because somewhere on the tour we’re booked at a White Horse, but not this one.

Next to the White Horse inn are the ruins of Saint James Church.

The ruins of 11th century St. James church. Let fall into disrepair over the centuries it was restored in 1863 but then destroyed by bombing in the Second World War.

We left Calais this morning with the thought that we’d take a bike ride up the coast after arriving, which we expected to do by about 11:30. On the ferry though Rachael suggests that a hike might be a better plan for the afternoon, and one quickly presents itself as we’re biking to our room: the White Cliffs of Dover. I agree, of course. Seeing them from the ship was thrilling, but it’s easy to imagine that walking alongside them could be extraordinary.

And it is. Extraordinary. After dropping off our bikes and baggage at the correct B&B and resting up for an hour we walk off to see the fabled White Cliffs of Dover up close, stopping first to make a reservation at the White Horse Inn for dinner on the recommendation of our host. Extraordinary, challenging, vertiginous in places. It’s only a six mile out and back to the lighthouse but that’s plenty.

The tops of cliffs are lined with benches for folks to stop and admire the spectacular views.

Not sure why, but I was surprised that you can see across the channel to France. With it so close by it’s no wonder that Edward III though he’d just bop on over and grab a chunk for himself.

The sheer white cliffs are dazzling, mesmerizing and intimidating. We keep ourselves well back from the edge and watch our footing.

The South Foreland Lighthouse, at the far point of our walk.

Saint Margaret’s, the next town up the coast. We’ll bike through it on our way to Canterbury when we leave here.

Straight down. We can’t see the bottom because I’m not about to approach the edge near enough to see it.

It’s important to understand the perspective here. It looks like we’re looking out through a gap, but we’re looking down a cleft to the shore that must be sloped at 60 degrees or more. This huge cleft is probably twenty feet deep or more, and looking back at our photos from the ship I’m pretty sure I could spot it from the sea.

We thought we’d shorten the walk back by taking the straight route through this dip rather than skirting it to the right.

We were wrong. The climb back out was much longer and steeper than it looked from the distance. A scramble on hands and knees in spots, and a little frightening.

We don’t know what the scene is here, but this looks like a rescue helicopter that hovered here for about 15 minutes before departing for the port. I wonder how often they lose folks on these cliffs.

She’s smiling from relief, because we’re nearly home.

We’re both well spent by the time we limp back to our room right at six, with just time to clean up before walking around the corner for dinner. I head up to the room to shower while Rachael walks to the nearest ATM to pick up our first pile of pounds. When she returns she pulls up the iPad to see if there’s enough time to showers herself, and sees there’s still plenty. It’s only 5:15 because we’ve sprung ahead an hour in crossing the channel.

Six thirty finally rolls around and we step over to the White Horse Inn for our first pub meal, glad that it’s no further away. Out for the next three months are chèvre salades, carafes d’eau, AOC vintages and the like; in are lamb burgers, chips and pints.

A prestigious establishment, the White Horse Inn.

The walls of entry hall are covered with scrawls like this, a ledger of accomplishments of swimmers of the English Channel. This must be the traditional spot to celebrate.

Today's ride: 2 miles (3 km)
Total: 2 miles (3 km)

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Tricia GrahamYour walk along the White Cliffs makes me feel tired. On our first bike trip we arrived at Dover but were staying at St Margaret’s which is along the coast. The girl in the Tourist Information told us the best way to get there was over the White Cliffs track. She clearly wasn’t a cyclist !! It nearly put me off cycle touring for ever
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2 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Tricia GrahamYou biked the track? Yipes! We’re biking through Saint Margeret’s tomorrow on our way to Canterbury but we’re thinking we’ll just stick to the road.
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2 years ago

Tricia GrahamTo Scott AndersonYes it was a nightmare. I went into a cardiac arythmia which lasted till the next day. It was our 4th and very nearly our last day of cycle touring. We did learn the lesson NEVER listen to the advice of non cyclists!
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2 years ago

Rachael AndersonWhat a nightmare! Glad you didn’t give up on cycling.
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2 years ago