Famous Cragsmen


Me and Burt is likely the only true free-climbers left in Kent since Wogs pitched off and broke his spine. You notice  we always mark the fallen by their chief injury, not the fact they was killed, which Wogs most certainly was, as any sod would be who fell three hundred feet? Soft sand and water, you say?

Bollocks. Iron hard from a height like that.

Why do we keep on? We’re Scots is why. Famous cragsmen. Climbing crags is in our blood, you might say. The cliffs is why we moved down to bloody Dover in the first place.

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