Ain’t No Mountain High Enough — Not Even Dover Hill

Day 16, 2023 North Atlantic Adventure

Saturday, May 27, 2023; Dover, England.

Fractured kneecap? What fractured kneecap?

Today, I astonished myself and put in five miles, 30 flights up stairs (and 30 back down) and a lot of other steep climbs and descents. I walked from the city center of Dover to the rooftop of the Dover Castle and back. Just six weeks ago on a previous call in Dover, I could only look at the city and castle from the ship while sitting in a wheelchair.

My intention was to take the ship’s shuttle to the top of the hill on which the castle sits. But the beginning of a holiday weekend meant total road gridlock in Dover, as cars and semitrucks headed for the ferries that cross the English Channel to France. After a long circuitous route around the gridlock to the city center, the bus driver announced there was no possibility he could reach the castle.

So off I went toward the steep hill, thinking the whole time I was walking up the vertical path and flights of stairs that at least I wouldn’t need to walk down it, as the traffic was predicted to ease by noon.

Once at the gate to the castle grounds, I could work my way more slowly up the hill. A few hours later at the far hilltop gate by the shuttle stop, the guard told me the shuttle was not running there today as the city was still in gridlock. My best bet was to walk back up, over and down the hill to the ship. No possibility of a taxi. No Uber service in Dover at all. Just my own two feet.

I retraced my steps back off the hill (mountain?), taking the stairs one at a time and gingerly walking back down the steep path. Once back in town I could see the gridlock had cleared and a shuttle bus was heading up the hill to the castle. Darn! (Well, that isn’t an exact quote.) I consoled myself with a bag of Maltesers (a favorite British candy) and took the next bus back to the ship.

Okay, I admit that I was proud of myself once my trek was over and am probably being a bit over dramatic. But I am thankful that neither my knee nor my heart gave out. I guess I can say I am pretty much recovered from my kneecap fracture of almost eight weeks ago.

One advantage of approaching the castle hill from the lower gate was that I was in the first group of the morning to tour the World War II tunnels so no wait required (and no photos allowed). During the war the British used the centuries-old tunnels for offices and accommodations. From this location they directed the retreat from France at Dunkirk, with not only the navy but also commercial ships and fishing and pleasure boats crossing this narrowest point of the English Channel to save hundreds of thousands of soldiers trapped on the French beaches.

The evacuation took place 83 years ago this weekend, and the castle hill was bustling with special events, demonstrations and exhibitions of everything World War II. Every flat space was filled with tents, vintage vehicles and hundreds of adults and even children dressed in period attire.

After touring the tunnels, I worked my way slowly up the hill until at the top I arrived at the base of the castle. In order to tour the chambers and other rooms, I had to follow a one-way route, leaving no possibility to bail out before facing the tight circular stone stairway leading several flights up to the roof. I’m not a fan of heights, so it was by only looking ahead one step at a time and maintaining a tight grip on the handrail that I made it.

The view was fantastic and the thick stone walls gave me enough security to enjoy it. The journey down an identical stairway in another tower wasn’t any easier, but what choice did I have?

This was the last night of our 16-day transatlantic cruise, and several of my friends who stayed on after the world voyage to cruise back to Europe are leaving tomorrow — Ian, Megan and Jolanda among them. We had a nostalgic dinner joined by Richard and Barbara.

Most of the world voyage officers and crew who hadn’t departed in Fort Lauderdale also are leaving tomorrow, including Tina in the Pinnacle Grill, Josephine in the dining room and her husband Edmond who heads the beverage department, hotel manager Henk Mensick and Captain Frank van der Hoeven. Tomorrow the captain from the first half of the world voyage, Capt. Friso Kramer, will take command again.

Captain Frank stopped by our dinner table to say goodbye.