Saturday 7th June 2025

Dover was founded and filled the valley of the River Dour, from which the town gets its name, from Roman times. To the north and south, the downs rise.

On the eastern down, Dover Castle, the Roman Pharos and other military infrastructure was built over the centuries, and on the western down, or Heights, a series of forts were built from the middle of the 18th centure.

Though there was a Pharos here too, that was knocked down when the forts were constructed.

On the Western Heights there are two fortifications, Drop Redoubt which the Western Heights Preservation Society looks after, mainly by volunteers, and there is the Citadel.

Built as a fortification, fortified ditches with multiple lines of fire, protecting inner buildings, mostly also underground. The ditches surround both forts, and stretch for nearly a mile, all dug by hand and then lined with millions and millions of bricks.

The Citadel remained an active fort until after the First World War, was a barracks in the Second, but then abandoned. Turned into a Borstal, then a youth offenders institution, an open prison before finally being an immigration detention centre.

But that closed in 2015 and was sold. Despite having grand plans, not much has been done with it, though parts are maintained, and this weekend there was a rare chance to visit the site on a guided tour.

I was told by my friend, Andy, who came down from London for the tour, and as Jools double-booked herself, I asked if Sean would like to come along instead.

And he did.

I woke early again at half five, but laid in to quarter past six. Mulder, Poppy and Cleo did not get up, apparently not hungry, though Mulder had caught a mouse during the night, judging by the giblets left in the middle of the living room.

Scully was hungry. Desperately so, and tried to eat the food as I shook it out of the packet. She had two bowls of food, then I gave her her insulin, so she was happy, if only for a while.

Outside the summer weather had broken, light rain fell and there was a cold, keen breeze. It would be chilly up on the Heights.

I drove up there just after ten, going past the Knights Templar church, which I didn't think had public access, but does, and there is even a large café at the top, along with lots of parking.

I did a sweep of the grassed areas for wild flowers and orchids, but nothing unexpected found. Andy arrived, having hiked up the down from Priory Station, and was pooped having done it in about 20 minutes. Sean arrived just before eleven, in time for the tour to start.

There is a bridge into the fort, over the ditch, through the archway, though we sheltered here while a brief was given as rain began to fall. Sideways.

Inside the keep there is a collection of 60s and 70s prison buildings, mainly for the youth offenders, though there is what you would recognise as a prison in another, which we visited last while walking back to the car.

We did a circuit of the bastion walls, taking in the panoramic views of the town and outlaying areas, nestling in the folds of the land, before going back and exploring a couple of underground features, including the well head.

I skipped the spiral staircase down to the lower level, instead walking back through the camp and along a narrow tunnel to where the ditch ended at the cliff face, with great views over the Western Harbour and where Dover Harbour Station would have been, beside Archcliffe Fort.

The final stop was at the Officer's Mess, the place of last refuge too, so heavily defended and built with 3m thick walls. Quite the impressive building. Sadly, like most of the original military buildings, it was repurposed by the Home Office in its prison days, and the fixtures and fittings were stripped out, so now are just empty institutional rooms and corridors.

We left after two and a half hours. Sean to his house renovations, and I took Andy to the station so he could get back home to Bromley.

Jools called. Everything was wet, she had burned her supply of wood and was on her way home.

In fact was home when I got there, just unloading the car.

We had a brew and the last of the biscuits I bought, while we swapped news, and the cats demanded food.

I made Caprese for an early dinner, so I could watch the England game at five.

That's another two hours of my life I won't get back as England just beat the might of Andorra 1-0.

New manager, same old England.

Plus la change!