The town where I have incubated for my entire life and probably my future one. Stuck on an extremity without a motorway but a huge port and castle, yet teaming with history and intrigue, but dragged down by not using this to its advantage.  It just hangs on for grim life and  roads get wider to get people in, and get them out quicker.  Not that there is much to stay for without effort.  Obviously there’s the castle, but what about the rest of the day.  There is only a rudimentary and generic shopping experience available, a few nice places to eat and drink, and after that a stroll along the promenade.  But day two would require a little more application as there are no shortages of walks, all uphill, that can be rewarded with breathtaking views.  If you were to spend an entire week on holiday in Dover it is very likely you may end up drinking white cider from a bottle by the grandstand in Pencester Gardens.  Then the road blocks would begin and your days would consist of getting the white cider, 8am ish, picking up fag butts and yelling at stray dogs.

I do sometimes wonder how I ended up in Dover.  Why Dover?  A fairly lucky place to be, or should I say safe.  Nothing happens here.  I revel in it’s grand history and splendour of being such an important port and amazing rolling hills, which are the end of the North Downs, constituting the amazing white cliffs.  But it’s not the nicest of places.  It is grubby and the pavements are caked in dog’s muck and dog’s urine.  The river dour has been concreted over for most of it’s meandering and the monstrosity Burlington House needs to be blown apart and cleared.  It’s crap that something like that is the first thing visitors see  when getting off a ferry.  But nothing happens in Dover.  The people here float through life appearing threatening and drinking in the street for there is noting to do.  Pubs keep shutting and it wasn’t long ago, about sixty years, that there used to be 365 inns in the town, now I can only think of about twenty.  There is always a call for bowling alleys and ski slopes up Connaught park but that would get boring after a while, plus they cost money.  We don’t have a right to be spoon fed entertainment, so why not make your own?  With such a outstanding countryside no more then a ten minute walk from the town there is a lot to explore on the  periphery.

I hope one day Dover can get it’s shit together and become somewhere to be proud to live.

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