White Cliffs

5/01/15

I have really tried to keep up with the journal, but my body is not cooperating.  Somehow I have managed to get ANOTHER cold and it has slowed my progress.  During my trip to London I have slept more than I have in months back home.  Now I am getting around 10 hours a day and still feel tired. Perhaps this is my body’s way of saying, “Hey – maybe you shouldn’t save all your vacation for a year and instead take it easier with work!”  Anyway, the past two days have been eventful regardless of my health. Yesterday, we made the trek to Dover to see a castle that was originally built on the ruins of a Roman fortification around 43 AD. It was one of the more eventful trips that I took back in 2006, so this trip I needed to drag all my people to the white cliffs of Dover. We took the tube to King’s Cross St Pancras and grabbed a train that took about an hour and ten minutes. The great thing about England is that you can most easily get from point A to B with some form of public transportation.  You are never really left stranded because the Greyhound station closed back in 1973.  You literally can find the most remote part of the map and get there on a super clean/efficient train car or bus. It is quite amazing to a backwards American. Dover happens to be the end of the line for the Southeastern line in the UK. To be precise, Dover Priory Railroad Station is the last station before you smash into the English Channel. From there, you can take a train UNDER THE FUCKING WATER or a ferry to France. On a good day, you can see France from your literal back door. 

            The train, as I said, was clean and not a bump was felt as we went along the hilly English countryside. Trains coming out of London tend to spend a lot of time underground because it is A) faster for the trains to move around and B) doesn’t disturb the natural landscape. Unfortunately, that can make for a somewhat boring train ride because you either see nothing or the side of a grassy hill to your left and right. I will still take that over the delightful smells and sounds from the train when one makes their hellish Amtrak ride through post-industrial Toledo, Ohio. On the train, the four of us took a seat near the bathroom, which we would eventually move from because of potential smells that were in store for us. The men who quickly took our table seemed pretty boisterous for  10:10 in the morning. In fact, I looked around and there were a lot of British people acting not very British. Folks were being loud, chatting up strangers, having open containers of Budweiser before the noon hour. Something didn’t quite feel right. Luckily, there were two police officers in our car, so we felt pretty safe and secure. I thought, “see, this is how a great country keeps its visitors safe!” As we got closer to Dover, the views improved and the tunnels and hills gave way to a darkish calm sea that spanned for miles. In the distance, we spotted the castle overlooking the cliffs and sea. One wonders how much aesthetics go into the building of great fortresses. You want an impervious stronghold, but also something that have wondrous views.  When we had left, London’s famous fog had taken over, but now the sun had burned all of that away. Even though it was early, the sun hung low in the sky. We only had a few hours of sunlight during this time of winter. However, the English consider this to be an incredibly sunny day, so I felt lucky as we pulled into Dover station.  As we made our way to the road, a crowd of men had formed around the taxi stand. We would find out that there was huge football match that folks were drinking for.  Everything made sense.

            We took a taxi up a few steep hills to the entrance of the site. As you walk in through the drawbridge, two green metal doors that are built into the Earth greet you.  The Secret War Tunnels were built in order to house military men during the Napoleonic Wars and span some 7 miles.  They were later used during World War Two as a military command and as a fallout shelter. As part of the tour, you get to go down into the tunnels and learn about Operation Dynamo where hundreds of thousands of soldiers were evacuated from Dunkurk to Dover when the Germans were kicking everyone’s ass in World War Two. The tunnels are pretty small, with a span that four or five people could fit across. While these things were ventilated, one cannot imagine the smells of cigarette smoke and sweat that would have been trapped down there. During one of the tours, you walk through the hospital ward and follow along with a pilot who has shrapnel in his leg. My favorite part is when the bombs hit the tunnel (this is all done through lights and sounds) and the old bulbs in the lamps flicker several times.  I wouldn’t suggest the tunnels if you are the least bit claustrophobic. 

            When we had our fun of the underground, we climbed up some more hills to the next gate and the great tower (the castle) was in front of us. Now, I am not one to be patient when it comes to looking at museums and collections of art. I know what I wanna see and I wanna see it!  So, I tapped my foot as the folks looked at the history of Henry the second and eventually just fled up the steps to the very top. They actually let you up onto one of the turrets that overlook the sea. In a different life, I had planned on proposing to someone at that very spot, so it was kind of a surreal feeling being there some nine years after my first visit. The views were still equally breathtaking with the English country side tumbling into the still waters. For some reason, everything is just that much more beautiful in England. I have been really high up in many places through out the world, but there is something about those nonthreatening hills with their tiny insect sized hobbit homes that pulls at your heart. The cold sea air against your face wakes you up as you eternally scan the horizon back and forth, never wanting to leave. Until some shit kids with no sense of personal space clamor their way up shove their hideous Cheetos stained faces into your line of sight.  Luckily, I was up there with my pregnant wife, so I was able to savor the moment. Someday my shit kid would be ruining other people’s bliss as well, and so I felt alright with the world.

            On the way down, the site was closing and we wanted to get out of there before the sun went down. You know, at the late hour of 4 PM.  Of course the person who said that they could call us a taxi wasn’t there and many a freak out was had, but we decided to suck it up and walk our way down a steep staircase into the town of Dover. While these setbacks would anger or annoy some, it is pretty invigorating to me. Granted, at the time I might be pissing myself with nervous energy, but in the end I am always proud of my skills of getting out of tight jams in new places.  All I have to say is that having a smart phone with a data plan makes foreign travel light years easier than when I was in England last. I hardly ever feel nervous because I can always look up exactly where I am and exactly where I need to go. The future is pretty sweet.  So, it took us about 10 minutes to walk downhill to the train station and we were greeted by the smells of booze and middle age. The train was way overbooked and as the car filled up, more and more men walked by with plastic cups full of beer. Most were precariously carrying at least two plastic cups filled with delicious piss yellow ales as they waddled their way down the train. We were privy to a menagerie of middle aged men that were forced to stand throughout the trip while they drank their beers and sang songs about god only knows what. I was slightly worried, because there were no police officers to save us this time. Luckily, British folks only want to curve stomp other British folks and I even got to sleep a little.

            The next day we slept till 10:30 am or so and my cold became worse…again.  When we finally got ready for the day, we headed out to the Imperial War Museum and checked out their fancy World War One collection.  After that, I forced Deborah to go with me to two comic book shops near Leister Square. I ended up buying comics from both places (support local business!) and feel like I need to go to another one…just cause.  We ended the night by going to The Book of Mormon, which was amazing. We got all dressed up, me in my three-piece suit and Deborah in a pretty black dress.  I am glad that her parents got us four those tickets because I think I have been trying to see that music for what it feels like five years now!  I have a lot to say about the show, but I am coughing a bunch and running out of speed.  Maybe more tomorrow!