The White Cliffs of Dover
“Happiness is not having what you want,
it is appreciating what you have.”
20 miles; that’s the narrowest part of the English Channel between England and France, and consequently the closest distance I came to getting abroad this year; I even received a taunting text from my mobile network provider letting me know about international rates. If Covid has thwarted one this for me this year, it’s travel.
After a record high of 39 million global commercial airline flights in 2019, 2020 saw an industry crippling decline to just 16 million; similarly, I saw a personal decline in my air miles from 20,000 to zero. Typically I would spend the best part of my year coaching photographers across holiday resorts in Greece, Italy, Spain and Croatia, but with no summer season this year, I found myself furloughed, grounded and frustrated.
Having been spoilt by summers photographing on the striking beaches of Europe, the unimpressive countryside of Cambridge didn’t coax much inspiration from me; with local lockdowns limiting UK travel further, preventing any means of escape, I fell into a bit of a photographic rut. After 4 months of never travelling further than 30 minutes from home, spent sunbathing in the garden, September came around and we were granted permission to venture out of the county. We headed down south to Kent for a couple of nights away, it was just what I needed and our visit to The White Cliffs of Dover was the cherry on top.
The day was perfect for a walk atop the cliffs; a light on-shore breeze to dust off the lockdown cobwebs, bright blue sky that teased of the Mediterranean and fewer fellow tourists than we anticipated; we had the cliffs more or less to ourselves other than a few four-legged friends.
We marched along the undulating clifftops, pausing every now and again to take in the view and appreciate the magnificence of the coastline, eventually making our way to the Lighthouse Coffee Shop for an extortionately priced brew. We were treated to the spectacle of a trio of Spitfires dancing around the skies for a short while.
For the return journey we decided to follow the steep switchbacks down to the waterfront, leading through the remnants of WWII bunkers. It wasn’t exactly your typical sandy beach, in fact, it couldn’t have been further from it, I don’t recall a single grain of sand amongst the rocks and boulders that formed on the shore but it gave us the chance to appreciate the magnificent chalk cliffs from a unique perspective, they truly are a sight to behold and I don’t believe my photos come close to doing them justice.
Captivated by the day, my creative rut was cured. I learned a valuable lesson from our visit to Dover; to appreciate my surroundings and what I have, not to ponder on how my life could be and to make the most of how life is. Filled with enthusiasm, I bounced back to photographing anything and everything I could, invested in new equipment and started making plans for the future. I started creating freelance opportunities for myself in the UK, I couldn’t sit idle and wait for life to return to “normal”, I had to adapt to how life was surely going to be.
Footnote on equipment - all images taken on Lumix G9 with 8-18mm lens.
