Wednesday 21st June 2017

Mid-summer's day.

Tony's last day in the Engerlands. And Scotland. Hibernia.

I hope that Tony had as good a time as he anticipated, and that he did all what he wanted to. I know he reads these posts, but that was our most sincere wish, that he had a holiday of a lifetime, and we did not take the shine off that. He traveled from deepest Kent to the Outer Hebrides and then out to St Kilda. THat was one trip we wished we could have gone with him on. But then we have another chances, every year, we just have to prioritise what we want to do.

But he is on his way home now, his flight left some 20 hours ago, and I guess he might be somewhere near Australia and should get home sometime tomorrow. I hope he had someone to talk to on the flight this time. We are missing you, Tony.

As it was his last morning, the one thing he had not seen in his time here, was the White Cliffs, or what most people think of them. And as I had an appointment in Dover first thing, a plan hatched that once I had seen the quack, we could walk back.

We got up at half five, Tony at six, and after the usual faffing around, Jools took us into town, dropping us off, giving us half an hour to wander round the deserted streets before I could be seen in the surgery. That done, we could turn tail and begin the walk home, and if we put our feet down we should be home in 90 minutes or so.

Up the steps steps leading from East Cliff, under Jubilee Way and finally coming out behind the earth bank beside Reach Road where it doubled back on itself, climbing the down in a hairpin bend. We were breathing hard, but then there was the view to also take our breaths away. Further.

Below the port was busy, with the first sailings of the day casting off, and more trucks and cars arriving all the time, queues trailing back through the check in booths, the roundabout and away along Townwall Street where we lost sight of the queue.

We took the path down onto the Cliff Road, and from there there was even better views for Tony to take in of the port below, and for me Pyramidal Orchids everywhere, and a smattering of Common Fragrants too. I snap a few, then see the first Marbled White of the year, but fail to get a shot. Foiled this time, but there would be other opportunities.

Up the gentle slope of the Cliff Road, turning the corner to where it ran inland following the contours of the land, but we took the steep path across Langdon to join up with the cliff path on the other side, as it climbed to the highest point, Langdown Cliff.

I hoped that from there it would be downhill all the way, but not quite, but easier going for me anyway. We turn to look back, getting a group of Kopiak Horses standing in a slightly photogenic group with the Eastern Docks behind.

We huff and puff up the final slop of Langdon Cliff, giving one last look at the Eastern Docks with the town laid out behind, and the looming shape of Shakespeare Cliff in the distance. Yes, dramatic landscapes around here.

We push on along the top of the cliffs, using the new but ugly path to the beginning of Fan Bay, past the deep shelter and towards South Foreland, the top of the lighthouse we could see. And by quarter past nine we were at the gates of the lighthouse, Tony stopped to take a shot, and we walk on, down the service road, now a green tunnel that the trees have branches full of leaves.

THe final stretch is across the fields to the housing estate on the edge of the village, then through the church yard to the village shop to buy some lunch, and an ice cream.

We amble down the final stretch down Station Road and back up the other side to the end of our street and finally along to home. We had been lucky with the weather, clear blue skies but cool enough to enjoy the walk, at least until we turned inland. Now back inside, we were very warm indeed.

But for Tony, time was running out. He had to pack, repack and decide what to leave behind. Passports, tickets and taxi rides were checked and rechecked.

We have lunch, hand and cheese sandwiches, and that was it. He had an hour to go, time for a shower and to move his bags to the front door. The taxi arrived dead on time, his bags were loaded and we hugged and shook hands. Time had run out.

He climbed in the cab, and it took off, I stood in the street watching it go, turn up Station Road and was gone.

I go back in the house to do some more work, but the house was quiet, very quiet.

Outside it was as hot as it has been this week, too hot to sit outside for sure. I have the radio on, and an hour later I switch the work computer off and see if there was a Time Team worth watching; there wasn't.

Jools come home at six, asks about how Tony did, did he get off in time? and those sort of questions. I have cooked dinner; breaded chicken and Jersey Royals, which was light and fresh. We have the other bottle of pink fizz I had got out for the previous evening, but seemed right that we shared it.

But we were pooped. We needed sleep, and after sitting in the garden for half an hour or so, we went to bed at the early hour of half eight.