This past weekend I dragged anyone I could find out to the country for a weekend trip to the White Cliffs of Dover. It ended up being just me and my roommate Lauryn. We quickly realized that you do not go to the town of Dover to visit Dover. You stop there for gas, maybe a bite to eat, and then move on to see the cliffs and medieval castle.
Nevertheless, we spent our first day wandering the street (yes, singular) of the town, and exploring the beach and Prince of Wales pier in the bay. It was quiet and kind of eery but we made the best of it. The town is run down and falling apart, not in a quaint way, but luckily we found a decent place to eat dinner and then headed back to the hotel (that looked nothing like the pictures online) for an early night in. Honestly after work and homework and class (oh and the nights out in London) a little down time was needed.
Day 2 began with with a quaint breakfast of toast and eggs at The Chaplin (yep, that's right, themed with Charlie Chaplin paraphernalia) and then a drive to the cliffs. We left the car at the visitor's center and started on the two mile hike out to the lighthouse (closed in the winter). It was one of the most breathtaking views I have ever seen in my life. In the first five minutes of walking on top of the cliffs (with no railing between me and the edge) the trip was worth it.
And after our trip to the White Cliffs, we stopped at Dover Castle, built in the 1100s and continually manned until 1958! It was used during WWII for secret underground tunnels in the cliffs, as Dover is only 30 miles across the Channel from France.
The castle reminded me of something out of Camelot. Built of stone, it smelled very earthy inside. How very isolating it must have been to live there.
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