White Cliffs of Dover

I have no idea how old I was when I first heard about the White Cliffs of Dover. I've never heard the songs about them and the only thing I know about them is that they are at the end of England, facing France, you can see them when you're coming back from France and they were a welcome site to soldiers returning from World War 2. The only one of those facts that I am sure of is the last one.

Despite my lack of knowledge, I have always wanted to see the White Cliffs. When Anthony suggested a walk that would allow us to do just that, I was super excited to give it a go. Surprisingly, so was the rest of my family. My family are not big walkers. In fact, if not-walking was something you could win awards for, my family would have all of them. Every single one.

Surprisingly, we managed to walk to "45 minute" (more like an hour and a half) walk to the lighthouse. The views along the way were amazing. The cliffs loomed around every corner. They made you catch your breath each time you saw them.

Since my Mum wears the most ridiculous shoes in the world (who wears heels to a walk? Seriously?) we decided to split up on our way home. Lottie and Dad walked back over the cliffs to the car park while Mum, Anthony and I picked a more direct route back to the caravan. It was surprisingly quick (we got to the caravan about 5 minutes before Lottie and Dad) but the best part was that our path took us through a wheat field. Walking through waist high wheat was a very funny experience. The route was flat as well which meant that Mum managed to keep up with us.

We might not be as bad at this walking thing as I thought.