Stoned in Dover

Well, there was no ganja, but we did have a bunch of British teenagers moon us and throw rocks at us on the beach of the English Channel.  It was pretty witty banter between our two groups:

"Stop throwing rocks at us."

"We're not throwing rocks; we're throwing stones."

Later on, as tempers flared...

"I wanna know what you're doing throwing ROCKS at us!"

"I wanna know what you're doing in my COUNTRY!"

Just another example of two nations divided by a common language.

Other than spotting a man in a motorized wheelchair sporting an English flag and a Confederate flag, the incident with the townies was really the only hiccup to the day.  

Dover Castle was a scarily large fort built in the 11th century around a 1st century Roman Lighthouse.  The fact that we got to step inside this precarious brick building that was around since Jesus Christ's life was both awe-inspiring and disconcerting, as it probably could have toppled over at any moment.  The castle also had a large keep on the crest of the hill built by Henry II, father of King John, lead character in Shakespeare's "King John," which is the show I'll be presenting to RADAand Tisch faculty in three weeks.  My part is Philip II, King of France and King John's enemy.  It was also fun to walk out on the battlements and to do Shakespeare soliloquies while looking out over the white cliffs and the harbor.

Another cool finding was the World War II underground tunnels underneath the castle.  These subterranean hideouts were apparently where operation Dunkirk was cooked up, and where Churchill used to hang out before going out on a sea-side balcony to watch German and English fighters battle for the skies in the summer of 1941.

From there we went to a pub lunch, then out to the "stoney" beach, and then on from there to relax on top of the white cliffs and look out toward France.  At sunset, we meandered back to the train station and found a bar where we got rowdy and sang Karaoke.  At the end of the night, an older local gentlemen shook my hand and said:

"You're a great bunch.  Thanks for coming."

The lesson here, really, is you can get along with an Englishman as long as you and he have both had a couple of pints.