Rochester, August 1999
Last modified:
Sunday, 14 August, 2016
Note: these entries were originally entered on my Palm Pilot while we were away on our travels. That's my excuse for any remaining typos; my Graffiti is often a little slap-dash!
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This trip was
not only our first taste of cycle camping, it was my first experience of
camping of any sort. Furthermore it was the first time Lisa had a chance
to get to know Rochester, the town where I grew up. Just three of the reasons
why this trip has a special place in our memories!
Cycling
from home to Harlow Mill station was our first time out fully laden.
I was unsettled by the effect
that relative lack of weight over the front wheel had on the handling
of the bike. We just made it in
time for the train to London and strapped both bikes into the official WAGN
bike bay.
At Liverpool
Street we threaded the bikes through the station and out to Broad Street
where we set off for Victoria. Our route took us down to the
Embankment,
through Parliament Square and past Westminster Abbey.
At Victoria, we armed ourselves with baguettes and drinks from the "Upper
Crust" concession before finding the Guard's van on the Connex service
for Dover. With the bikes safely stowed we found seats in the adjoining saloon
where we munched on our lunch during the journey to Rochester.
On arrival
at Rochester we travelled with our bikes down in the lift from platform to
ground level and remounted. From the station we rode up past
Century (now "Sentry") Supplies, scene of my first ever work experience
back in 1975, to the foot of Maidstone Road, Rochester. The climb up, past
Sir Joseph Williamson's Mathematical
School (where I was educated between 1969 and 1976),
to Rochester Airport was pretty strenuous but we made it O.K. with just a
couple of brief halts. Once the climb was done, the campsite signpost soon
came into view: we'd made it!
Woolman's Wood
campsite has just a small area for tents in one corner of a caravan park.
We set up the Bug (as we call our tent) between a guy who was packing a substantial
setup into a pickup truck ready to leave and an unoccupied one-man tent.
After setting up, we checked out the excellent facilities and rode off to
the nearby
Asda.
Returning laden with groceries we found that the pickup truck had been succeeded
by a young couple of Austrian cycle tourists. Lisa set to to concoct
a dinner of lamb, curry-flavoured noodles and stir-fry vegetables on the
Coleman stove in the gathering gloom. After dinner we had a couple of beers.
And so to bed.
We awoke, tremendously
refreshed after out first night away from home in the Bug, and breakfasted
on salad, yoghurt & bread
washed down with hot coffee. After washing up and showering, we stowed all
our gear in the Bug except what we needed for a day in town.
In warm sunshine,
we rode back down the hill to Rochester via the Esplanade which runs along
the
Medway.
Lisa was fascinated by the river-side environment, natural and man-made,
and I was full of information and reminiscences about by old stomping ground.
We parked our bikes outside the Old Victoria & Bull Hotel and walked
along the High Street. Dickens connections abound in Rochester (indeed the
inn
featured
in "Pickwick Papers") and since the days I lived there much more
has been made of the tourism opportunities of this. Freed of the choking
A2 traffic,
the High Street has become a very attractive place for visitors to pass a
day.
Our main sightseeing
objective of the day was Rochester Castle and we spent a couple of hours
exploring the curtain wall, grounds and the Norman keep: climbing as far
up inside as visitors are allowed. The views of the Medway estuary and surroundings
from the castle are dramatic, well worth the effort of clambering up the
treacherous stairs in the turrets.
After our exertions
clambering around the Castle, our thoughts turned to lunch. Strolling along
the High Street we happened upon a small Italian cafe, Casa Lina, which smelled
tremendously inviting. Our noses did not deceive us! Casa Lina turned out
to be a real hidden gem: delicious, reasonably-priced home-cooked food and
a friendly atmosphere. We both enjoyed a pasta main course and a salad. We
emerged some time later feeling fully satisfied (and determined to return
at the first opportunity) and returned to our parked bikes at a decidedly
leisurely pace.
The ride back
up Maidstone Road was a little easier on our unladen mounts but still a significant
exertion for two inhabitants of the notoriously flat county of Essex. After
a pause to recapture our breath, we headed out again to Asda to get supplies
for our evening meal and tomorrow's breakfast. Dinner was a seafood stir-fry
after which we headed for bed.
Breakfast this
morning consisted of smoked salmon with cream cheese and German rye bread,
washed down with fresh orange juice and ground
coffee. As you can see, we don't let camping get in the way of our gastronomic
enjoyment!
All too soon
it was time to strike camp and pack everything back into our panniers. Having
never done this before, it took rather longer than we'd allowed for and we
had to phone ahead to let my parents know we'd be later than expected for
lunch.
Finally
all was ready and we rode out past the "Links Fahren" sign
at the campsite entrance and back down Maidstone Road to Rochester. In the
City
we found
a Norman festival in full swing and had to thread our way carefully through
the packed High Street full of people in costume and selling all manner of
more or less relevant merchandise. The crowds taking part in this event underlined
for me how the character of Rochester has changed in the last twenty years:
on the surface, at least, the transformation into a tourism-oriented economy
seems complete.
From Rochester
High Street we crossed Rochester Bridge into Strood (where I was born and
lived for eighteen years), round the one-way system to the traffic lights
at the foot of Strood Hill and took Gun Lane out to Frindsbury. After climbing
and descending Frindsbury Hill we next had to tackle Four Elms hill to bring
us into Hoo. This last was almost a hill too far for Lisa but, with a couple
of halts and some verbal encouragement, she made it and eventually we rolled
into my parents' place where we ceased to be campers.
Sunday run out.
Monday trip
back home via Rochester and Victoria.
Coffee at Victoria then across London in Bank Holiday sun.
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