Saturday 26 April 2008

Dover to Deal- 9.9 miles

After another tricky start on the trains - what is it with the British and trains on the weekend? - we arrived in Dover, a not too picturesque town on the southeast coastline of England. With the castle on the hill peering down upon its inhabitants and visitors, the port town is situated at the narrowest point of the channel between England and France.



As we were rather late for a pub lunch, we picked up some sandwiches and sushi and made our way to the path up past the ferries and piers towards the cliff.



Leaving behind the more industrial part of Dover, the walk quickly led us to much prettier scenery of rolling plains and glimpses of the dramatic cliffs of Dover.

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It was a lovely sunny day, and walking around the paths on the edge of the cliffs, reminded me of the lovely walk from Phortse Tenga to Dole. As I was lagging behind on my own taking photos, I put on the Himalayan folk song, "Resham Firi" on my iPod.

We followed the trail down to the waterside about halfway through the walk. Like most beaches on the east coast, the beach is pebbly rather than sandy.

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It took another couple of hours and a couple of beers before we reached Walmer Beach and slowly ambled our way into Deal.

It felt a bit surreal as the path gave way to long wide stretches of beach and sky.



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I loved the little beach houses sitting prettily in line on the beach, alongside boats at rest from their watery wanderings.

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As fitting the day, we rewarded ourselves with a large portion of fish and chips wrapped in paper.

Saturday 12 April 2008

Saunderton via West Wycombe - 10 miles

After a little kerfuffle with the tickets, we finally made our way to Saunderton to resume our weekly practice of long walks.

Saunderton is about an hour outside London, a town surrounded by rolling fields and lush green hills. We began with an easy stroll in the Chilterns through sloping meadows and woodland.



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The trail through the forest was very pleasant, until the paths became rather muddy. In that situation, you could either walk through the squidge or try to edge around the side. However the sides of the path are lined with holly and gorse bushes and shrubberies; pushing past those required a little patience and a little tolerance for pain.

I had the option to protect my face or my lens. I chose my lens. And swore a lot.

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Thankfully, the trail dried up and became delightful. We spotted deer, pheasants and many dogs came bounding through cheerfully. A couple of dogs were huge, as large as little ponies.

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After lunch at the Black Lion, a little pub near the woods, our route led us past quaint old churches, graveyards, a mausoleum on the hill, down to the old Hellfire Caves and back. We didn't have time to enter the caves, which consisted of man-made tunnels built for aristocratic debauchery.

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The walk ended with a steep climb which took my breath away, and a gentle stroll back to the station.

We learnt a few new terms today. "Kissing gates" and "bridal paths" are now part of my vocabulary. They make the countryside sound rather randy.

And oh, there was sheep.

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