Ham, Hoverports and Herne Bay

Having bagged a bunch of sound mirrors, what next? First, a game of I Haven't a Clue where we tried very hard to avoid technology! Instead of GPS-this and waypoint-that, we aimed to follow the coast as closely as possible east and north from Folkestone. A while after Dover the roads turned into footpaths or farm-only dead ends, meaning so much doubling back. But after some messing about and some guesswork we reached a seaside, if not the seaside: the gravel beach at Kingstown. And when one is at the seaside one must dip one's toes in the water. The water came in a bit faster than we expected, meaning I had a chance to see if my oiled leather boots were any good (they were!).

Hugging the coast we reached Deal, and then followed the A258 inland for a while. While passing the village of Worth I spotted a sign that reminded me that one of my more 'frivolous' waypoints, learned from my southerly cycling friends, was nearby, so it was time for a ham sandwich: literally, a signpost where the village of Ham is half a mile away and on the same fingerpost, the town of Sandwich is three miles in the same direction. :⁠-⁠)

It was by then time for an actual sandwich, and after parking up in the town we found The Haven Cafe, a quiet wee place that served us good coffee and excellent paninis and salads. Once recharged we enjoyed a wander around the town's narrow streets, including one called No Name Street, and looking at the very old stone and brick buildings, and an occasional art deco cinema. Bestie noseyed into a Ford dealership to ogle a little three wheeled pickup truck, while I ogled a huge BMW touring motorbike that was alongside. We took in the old toll house and swing bridge, too, before heading back to the bikes to continue to the next stop.

Just before Ramsgate, at Pegwell Bay, are the remains of what was once the bustling Ramsgate Hoverport, a contemporary (and originally, competitor) of Dover, and frequented by those massive SR.N4 hovercraft. Despite the incessant strong wind and the not-quite-drizzle, we put on our urban exploration shoes and wandered down to the acres of concrete and tarmac. We found kerbstones, bollards and marker lights, and many traces of white lines for marshalling the queues of cars – but all signs of the buildings have been erased from the map entirely. The main remaining feature is the steel footbridge that was ideal for viewing purposes. The hoverport lasted until 199x and it was then demolished and left as a reminder of the white heat technological aspirations of the 1960s.

From there we headed to another Auto Shenanigans featured road, the long curving tunnel that leads down to Ramsgate's Prince Edward's Promenade, Royal Harbour Marina and Royal Parade in beautiful orange brick. We didn't stop for very long, though, as sticks of rock had to be bought...somewhere. Margate sounded seasidey in my memory, so we rode there in the late afternoon. My imagination of sandy beaches, postcards, buckets and spades and people flying kites could not have been more wrong. After going round the block and up and down The Parade, bestie found a sweet shop, which was closed. But I found something more interesting! A bit along the road are the remains of Lido Sands, an open air swimming pool that is sadly mostly filled in, and the surrounding buildings on three levels boarded up, or falling apart, or closed. It kind of summed up the place, really. After some map perusing, bestie located an emergency backup sweet shop in the town, and was in and out in a trice with her well-gotten gains.

A short ride westwards took us to our final destination of Herne Bay, a very pretty town with a bandstand and promenade. We wanted to see the statues of Amy Johnson, the indomitable pilot who crashed and was never found, and Barnes Wallis who designed the R100 airship, the bouncing bomb, the Tallboy and Grand Slam 'earthquake' bombs, and a hundred other things. In between all this statuary we hunted for somewhere to have refreshments finally finding a cool cafe run by a friendly guy with tattoos and a big beard. Over a generous Biscoff cake and a huge cup of tea for me and a huge cappuccino for bestie we planned our ride back to Folkestone, opting to head through Canterbury so see what there was to see.

After a glimpse of two of the grand cathedral, we pressed on south. I was tired out and frustratedly irritable by this time, so bestie BikerBabe led and I followed, and with a quick stop at the supermarket for soup we reached Gals' Cabin for a late, light tea and a much needed hot, hot shower and a good night's sleep.