All sorts of connotations with 101 but, thankfully after yesterday’s strangeness, today was boringly dull, and not even boring enough for that to be interesting. Sorry that I can’t sustain the fun.
First up I reacquainted myself with Folkestone, which had some good art installations as part of its triennial.
From there all the way to New Romney it was basically a case of battling my way along a concrete sea wall into a serious headwind, which I reckon was worth an extra 10km in effort. A couple of miles along the canal through Hythe broke the monotony, but not by much.
Dymchurch however provided some light relief when I found myself in a League of Gentlemen style pub, with people eating and drinking silently, watching me, looking away whenever I looked up from my coffee. The elderly couple sitting side by side eating roast dinners particularly freaked me out. All rather like some north Welsh pubs I know -Trawsfynydd springs to mind.
Oh! There’s a nuclear power station in Trawsfynydd too. I shall pass by Dungeness tomorrow.
So the van is rockin again tonight, but it’s the wind, not the Quo or anything else.