London LOOP section 6 Banstead - Kingston

During the winter months I like to do different types of walks than I do in the summer and I find October is about the time I change my perspective a bit.  Two walks I have had my eye on for a long time are the Capital Ring and the London LOOP.  Both walks circle the capital through the inner and outer suburbs respectively largely through green spaces and parkland areas.

 

Last week following an Ebay purchase made by my wife I had cause to visit south west London and so the opportunity arose to walk one of the sections of the LOOP, which passed within ¼ of a mile of the collection address in Old Malden.  My original intention with the route was to start at the beginning in Erith but obviously I couldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth and so started this walk at an unconventional point.  I parked at Malden Manor station nearby, thinking that if time was against me at least I could walk just as far as here.  If I had more time I could press on as far as Kingston a further three miles distant.

 

The train journey from Malden Manor to Banstead was a bit convoluted and took over an hour for the seven mile journey as the crow flies (maybe there is a quicker bus route? I didn’t check).  Anyhow, after changing at Wimbledon, taking the Croydon Tram and changing again at West Croydon I eventually arrived at Banstead station.  This is not on the route but a waymarked link route took me to the route proper about half a mile away.

 

Initial reactions were good as I crossed Banstead golf course and found some decent signage declaring distances along the route.  The course was quite busy with golfers on a resolutely grey day and I am sure that they, like me hoped that the weather would improve (it never really did, despite threatening to a few times).  After crossing the golf course however, I entered a large slab of suburbia.  Unfortunately for the next mile and a half the path has not managed to find a greener route and is directed through some pleasant, if rather boring, 1930s suburban streets.  It was unusually quiet, with only a small handful of householders out in their gardens.  I hurried through this section as quickly as I could.

 

About halfway through I passed into Epsom and Ewell Borough, announced by a large sign and proudly proclaiming their twinning with Chantilly (of lace fame?).  I can’t say the scenery changed though, although I did note a rather unusual road layout around the corner when I noticed a single carriageway main road with equal sized service roads on either side.  It seemed very indulgent compared with today’s town planning requirements to squeeze as many houses into a given space as possible.

 

After passing a very ugly looking church I eventually passed under a railway line (the first of several today) and into Warren Farm, a large but uninspiring greenspace owned by the Woodland Trust.  I had had high hopes for this area as I passed through suburbia and although initially disappointed I was heartened when I entered Nonsuch Park (http://www.epsom-ewell.gov.uk/EEBC/Whats_new/Nonsuch+Park.htm) , an adjacent open space with an interesting history.  This apparently was once the estate which housed a royal palace built by Henry VIII as a hunting lodge.  There are few remains of the place, which was apparently demolished by a mistress of Charles II who had the estate broken up to help pay off her gambling debts.

On a grey autumn afternoon the place was delightful with odd leaves lazily drifting to ground and squirrels busily running about gathering up acorns and conkers to stash away for the winter.  Conscious of time I didn’t venture off route but apparently the Mansion is well worth a look and I might avail myself another time if I come pack this way.  The path continued on the south side of the park and before leaving for good I did come across the remains of the banqueting hall, which shows the outline of the former structure.  Now reduced to head height, the walls are still extant.

 

I crossed the busy Ewell by-pass and headed into the town centre.  Ewell is delightful, with lots of old and unusual buildings, including a ‘castle’ (now used as a school, once attended by Oliver Reed apparently), the 18^th century ‘Well House’ and most unusually a church tower without a church!  The old St Mary’s church at first glance looks the part but as you get closer you soon realise that there is no nave and the tower itself is surrounded by an iron railing fence.  After the disappointment of the early part of the walk I now found myself getting more interested in the route.  I crossed through the busy ‘village’ centre (as locals still refer to it) and through the impressive gateway to Bourne Hall.  This was once a traditional mansion with surrounding grounds but was swept away in the 1960s to be replaced by a library resembling a flying saucer.  Nevertheless the grounds were still very attractive and were abuzz with birdlife and even more squirrels frantically going about their business.

 

Beyond the park I passed by Upper Mill, yet another historic building that is currently being refurbished.  I entered the enclosed and wooded world of the Hogsmill River, which I would now basically follow for the remaining part of the walk into Kingston (a local Councillor has put together a website about it, which can be found at http://www.derek.phillips.ukonline.co.uk/hogsmill1.htm)   The initial part of the valley was quite interesting as I crossed various tributary streams from other springs and their associated bridges.  I soon reached another railway underpass and this time the walk hijacked a bridge used by the river.  I crossed the railway by walking on a bridge across the river but under the railway, it was all rather ingenious!  I took care on the other side to duck under the large pipe that also crossed the path.

 

From here the pathway is pleasant but somewhat monotonous for the next few miles.  The Hogsmill River Valley is a surprising green strip of land hemmed in on all sides by housing estates, municipal parks and sports pitches.  The walking is pleasant enough and in parts there are some features that have been added to the river to make it more interesting.  The river itself was clean and tidy (contrary to reports from other walkers) and there was some evidence that it is being looked after by volunteers or park wardens, with notice boards about various issues.  The sports pitches were pretty popular with many games of football and rugby in full swing.

 

I eventually reached the very busy A240 by a rather convoluted route using the available pedestrian crossings.  The path itself continued to the left of the Tolworth Bridge (it’s not obvious!) and resumed its journey along the Hogsmill for another half mile or so.  I soon became aware of the sound of what I initially took to be lawnmowers (a rather strange sound on a day like this) and was rather surprised to pass an impressive looking go cart track that was full of people having an afternoon of fun.

 

Just past here I left the Hogsmill for a bit as no path exists along the bank for half a mile or so.  Instead a circuitous route loops around Malden, past a Toby Carvery (could be a good place for lunch!) and up around to Malden Church.  This is an odd building, seeming to be a mish mash of styles as it has grown bigger over time.  Nevertheless it has a fine lych gate and remains an oasis of calm in this corner of London.  Just past the church I dropped back down into the Hogsmill valley and passed under the Chessington Branch Line at Malden Manor.  Time was still on my side so I decided to press on to the end of the section at Kingston.  Not much further on and I had yet another main road obstacle, this time the busy A3.  A long dog-leg was required to cross the road via a subway and given how busy the road was I would not be tempted to cross by any other means!

 

Once across the A3 the path continues for another mile or so alongside the Hogsmill past yet more sports fields and recreation grounds until eventually I reached Berrylands.  At this point the river becomes inaccessible once again and so I initially wandered along a couple of residential streets before crossing underneath another railway line at Berrylands station, which was perched on an embankment high above me.  The approach to Berrylands is impressive enough, with a 1930s shopping development but once across the line the approach couldn’t be more different.  The lane is only used by cyclists and pedestrians and is obviously a target for the local vandals, with graffiti daubed everywhere.  Why they would want to hang around though is beyond me for the air was permeated with the stench of the local sewage works.  Across the way, the Kingstonian faithful were singing their hearts out for their team.

 

The path into Kingston from here followed various roads and alleyways so keeping an eye on the signage is very important so as not to get lost.  On the way I passed a new9ish) development called Margaret Lockwood Close.  I remembered this to be an actress for Hitchcock films but wasn’t sure what the local connection was.  I am sure she would be thrilled to have a road named after her though if she were still alive.

 

Eventually as I reached the end of an alleyway a little further along I was reunited with the Hogsmill River for the last section of its journey to the Thames.  Now it was a confined river; its course determined by its concrete channel.  Almost hidden from view, one could be forgiven for thinking that it was an unnecessary nuisance flowing through the heart of town.  Only the University of Kingston seemed to acknowledge its existence fully and the bridges and seating areas in this area made it a feature of the academic landscape.  The main bridge outside the university was a little odd though as it once clearly had been a main road but was now closed to through traffic.  The bridge although still fairly substantial looking was not much more than a footbridge or monument, depending on how you looked at it.

  

From here I was plunged into the heart of Kingston and was slightly confused for a short while as some joker had turned some of the signage around.  I soon realised though that I was to be following the river once again past the Guildhalls, old and new.  I crossed one of Surrey’s oldest bridges and headed down through a new riverside development before reaching the ultimate destination; the River Thames.  There is a uniqueness about this river – it simply oozes class.  I don’t know whether it is the river traffic or the buildings alongside or the fine bridges crossing over.  Whatever it is the river definitely makes up for any deficiencies of this walk and makes you want to keep exploring.

The riverside was very busy with people enjoying meals and drinks in the riverside bars, people jogging along the banks and others feeding the birds.  For me my day was done, but I do feel like I want to see more of this walk.  Maybe next time out I shall start at the beginning!

Wey South Path Day 3 Billingshurst - Amberley

Six weeks on from my last excursion and how the landscape has changed!  We have been lucky with September weather this year, but unfortunately I didn’t pick the best day today, as it was resolutely gloomy for most of the morning with a lot of dampness in the air first thing.  This is my final official expedition on the Wey-South Path, although I may be tempted later on to have a go at completing the route dubbed ‘London’s Lost Route to the Sea’.  The navigation itself continued beyond the length of the Wey South Path, down the River Arun and along another canal between Ford and Chichester Harbour that was closed even earlier.  That though is for another time.

 

I parked at Amberley Station (I wasn’t tempted to start my rail journey from Worthing as connections are awful) and took the hourly train service to Billingshurst.  The single fare for the 12 minute journey was an eye watering £4.20, but at least parking was free at Amberley (be warned though, there are only a handful of spaces). Billingshurst isn’t terribly convenient as a staging post but probably as good as you’re going to get. I then retraced my steps along the footpaths I had stumbled along the other week to get back to the Canal at Love’s Bridge.  I went back as far as there to right the wrong of not having any pictures on the previous day’s walking.  This stretch of canal is tantalisingly close to Drungewick Lane and surely it can only be a short time before this stretch of canal becomes navigable once again.  Indeed as I went further south to Rowley Lock, the restoration of the old lock is both remarkable and a little strange.  This is because it seems to be stranded from the rest of the canal and offers a brief glimpse of what the whole thing will look like when restoration is finally complete.  My eye was drawn to a large pylon straddling the canal at this point, for it appears to have been planned that way, with no attempt made to infill the canal to accommodate it.

 

Ahead is some good canal walking for a mile or so as far as Newbridge.  On the way I passed a lifting bridge that had been put back into place as early as 1980 by a group of task force volunteers.  As I wandered further along I was joined by the River Arun, a rather more attractive waterway at this point.  Alongside the canal though were some fantastic looking blackberries, which I just had to take with me!  Within 15 minutes I had plenty enough to make me a crumble later – fantastic!

 

Newbridge is the crossing by the A272 and the river crossing is quite impressive.  The canal crossing has sadly been reduced to a culvert, but there is still a canal cottage alongside.  Further on though there is a much better canal cottage, alongside what would once have been a wharf.  As I continued towards Lordings Lock, it was quite obvious that the canal was once again disappearing into the countryside and for a good quarter of a mile or so across one field it has almost disappeared, having been infilled.

 

Eventually as I got towards Lordings Lock I heard a very strange clanking noise and naturally assumed that a working party were out.  The lock comes as a real surprise after the obliterated section of the canal.  It has been mostly restored and I soon realised that the clanking noise wasn’t a working party but the waterwheel which supplies water to the canal (or the bit of it in the lock – either side is obliterated).  It is a truly remarkable relic from a bygone age, completely stranded from other parts of the canal but just about complete (apart from lock gates).  There is a small picnic area on the site (presumably put there for the benefit of canal volunteers) and it seemed the perfect spot to have my picnic lunch.  I can’t say it was particularly peaceful as I was accompanied by the constant clank clank of the waterwheel.  The air was full of the pungent smell of ripe blackberries as all the adjacent bushes were absolutely groaning with ripe fruit.  I guess that being so far from a parking area, this is not a spot that attracts many fruit pickers. 

 

After inspecting the lock and waterwheel for some time and scoffing my sandwich I started on again.  The aqueduct across the Arun here is missing but on the other side I picked up the course of the canal once again.  For the next couple of miles it doesn’t appear that much work has been done to the canal bed itself, but in truth this is probably more to do with the time of year I am here (all the vegetation still in place from summer growth) rather than lack of effort on the part of the volunteers.  It is obvious that this part of the canal is being very much readied for boat traffic as most of the major engineering features such as bridges and locks have all been restored as far as Haybarn Bridge.  It is a very pleasant walk along this stretch and because all the infrastructure is now more or less in place it is easy to imagine the canal in working order some time in the not too distant future.

 

Haybarn bridge is an oddity.  It isn’t the original bridge and is also the only swing bridge on the canal.  It has been brought here from the Leeds and Liverpool Canal and was installed in 2004 (see http://www.weyandarun.co.uk/haybarn.html for pictures of the installation).  For canal path people now though it represents an abrupt end to the towpath that the Wey South Path has followed for about 4 miles.  In fact it is the last proper section of towpath walking at all heading south.  From here I immediately passed through a deserted farm (probably because all the farm workers are busy getting ready for winter out in the fields) and then along a track seemingly heading towards Toat Monument, a folly tower that was built in 1827 to commemorate a hapless London tea merchant called Samuel Drinkald who apparently was thrown from his horse and killed on the very spot.  Apparently his brother was a local racehorse owner, perhaps suggesting why he is commemorated here.  Alas the tower cannot be reached on foot as it is sited on private land but acts as a tantalising landmark for miles around. 

 

As it happens this is the closest the path gets to the monument and apart from a very brief meeting once again with the canal at Lee Farm Bridge a little further on, the route now takes on a slightly frustrating and lengthy detour away from the canal.  This is because there has been a denial of access across the private land straddling the canal and there are relatively few footpaths in this area of the Arun Valley.

 

By now it was early afternoon and the sun had finally put in an appearance.  In fact within minutes it was pretty warm, which made the unaccustomed climb up past Pallingham Lane quite uncomfortable.  The path heads up through pasture land and eventually reaches a country lane, where I turned left.  A mile or so tramp along the country lane followed while I anxiously looked out for the lane that would reunite me with the canal for the last time.  

All in all the deviation was more than two miles by the time I got back to Pallingham Quay Farm.  This was once a substantial port, very difficult to believe now as the canal is mostly overgrown and the River Arun looks like not much more than a trickle.  Just past the farm and the path crosses Pallingham Bridge, the last evidence of the canal itself and just a few yards from its very overgrown southern junction with the River Arun.  Having completed a sizeable diversion to get here I soon realised after looking at the map that there was no prospect of a riverside walk either as the Wey South carries along the only available right of way swinging to the other side of the valley to follow another country lane almost all the way to Stopham Bridge.

 

Eventually I reached a racehorse training area and the path deviates from the road here which was a welcome relief.  The view from this spot was fantastic – ahead I could see the line of the South Downs and the ridge from Amberley to Washington.  In front were the Amberley Wild Brooks and Pulborough Marshes, where I would eventually be headed.  Nearer was Pulborough dominated by its church and just in front of me.  While I admired the view I could also see the task ahead of me still for my ultimate destination was of course Amberley Station, situated just at the foot of the Downs ahead.

 

I was pleased to leave the road behind a little further on and initially I wandered up through a sunken lane with lots of roots on show from the trees that were desperately trying to cling on.  The lane was the main access to some very lucky homeowners who had the whole of the Arun Valley spread before them as a view.  I turned left here and headed towards the remains of a Norman Motte and Bailey Castle, now completely hidden from view by woodland.  The trees were a mixed bunch but with lots of sweet chestnuts among them.  Squirrels were busily trying to gather what they could, while the trees themselves were starting to lose their spiky nut casings with a vengeance.

 

Ahead I could hear the unmistakable sound of a busy road and soon enough I came upon the A283 at Stopham Bridge and reunited with the River Arun.  The main road now passes over a modern bridge, but just to the south is the very attractive Stopham Bridge, which is essentially mediaeval and was unbelievable still carrying traffic until only a few years ago.  In fact the old road markings and traffic light fittings can still be seen.  Now thankfully only non-motorised transport can use the old thing, which is a scheduled monument.  Adjacent is the very attractive White Hart public house and I made a mental note to come here for a spot to eat sometime soon.

 

Stopham Bridge marks a complete change of pace for the walk.  The canal seems a long way behind me now as I negotiate the marshes that are the main feature of the Arun Valley between Pulborough and Amberley.  Initially I crossed the Rivers Arun and Rother, which were once linked by a canal tunnel with remains still to be found hereabouts (I didn’t look, but this man has - http://www.dumpman.co.uk/page5.htm).  By now I was getting slightly anxious about time as all my blackberry picking and picnicking loitering had caught up with me a bit.  I crossed the old Pulborough - Midhurst rail line (mental note - explore this some time) and then the A29 before I headed across the marshes past Coldwaltham alongside an old canal cut that was constructed to cut off the large meander loop of the river.

 

The next bridge across the River Arun is another corker – the 18^th Century Greatham Bridge.  Crossing this is a little tricky though as there is no footpath – it’s as well to make full use of the reservations on each of the masonry arches to make sure that you don’t get run over!  Fortunately it was pretty quiet today and so I didn’t have to worry too much about traffic.  The middle span is metal and slightly out of keeping with the masonry arches, but I suspect this was because it was needed for navigational purposes.  This was my last crossing of the Arun today, the fourth in total and the river at this point looks much more like it is still capable of handling some decent sized boats.

 

I headed along the Arun bank for a short distance before the river meandered away once again.  The path forges a fairly straight line across the Pulborough and Amberley Wild Brooks and after the closed in nature of the canalside section is was good to once again get out into ‘big sky’ country.  I passed through a couple of farms and a herd of deer who couldn’t decide whether to watch me or flee (in the end they did neither – they ran a short distance before realising that I was no threat).

 

When I reached the marsh I was slightly perturbed by the rather ancient looking sign suggesting that the marsh was dangerous.  My imagination worked overtime, thinking about swamp monsters and quicksand, but in truth after such a period of dry weather it was an easy crossing.  I bet it wouldn’t be much fun in the depths of winter though!  As I approached Amberley I could here the most horrible sound.  At first I couldn’t decide what it was, it sounded like a conveyor belt that needed oiling.  As I got closer I realised it was a very large excavating monster with caterpillar tracks being driven by a grinning Environment Agency officer.  He gave me a cheery wave for getting out of his way, but in truth I was never going to hold him up – he was big and mighty and I was an insect ready to be squashed!

 

The Downs started getting closer and closer and I was starting to look forward to meeting the car once again.  The sun was out again irritatingly, just as I was thinking about finishing my walk.  The view across to Amberley Castle was lovely, although the best side is definitely the front side.  This walk though wasn’t going to pass that close and this was the best view I was going to get.

 

Eventually I reached Amberley, one of the picture postcard villages of Sussex with its thatched cottages, castle and church.  I poked into the village shop which had a lovely array of homegrown tomatoes lined up outside.  Mundanely I only got a drink to wet my whistle, but this is a hidden but lovely little village shop well worth visiting.

 

The last section of the walk leaves the village and follows the road up over High Titten to give tantalising views of the old Amberley Museum below.  This is also the route of the South Downs Way and a number of walkers were heading towards me, making the most of the lovely sunshine in this late afternoon.  For me though it was a short plod down to the station to meet with the car and the end of the official walk.

 

The Wey South Path is a hugely enjoyable short walking project.  For speed walkers it’s not much good as there are many obstacles and diversions en route.  It’s not particularly challenging as there aren’t many hills but for anyone interested in industrial archaeology I can’t recommend it highly enough.  In fact I enjoyed it so much that I shall definitely continue down the Arun at some point and explore the rest of the waterway, including not just the river but the old canal between Ford and Chichester.

Downs Link Henfield - Southwater

With only a very short time at my disposal today, I decided to treat this section rather differently from the other two rides along the Downs Link. This would be almost a straight sprint from one end to the other and a quick turn round and come back.  In truth, although the route passes through some pleasant countryside, none of it could be described as remarkable explaining perhaps why this line was never a serious candidate for being preserved.

 

I know Southwater Country Park can get very jammed on a Sunday due to the popularity of the lake as well as the Downs Link.  I wasn’t sure whether a car park existed at Henfield but was pleased to find that a small parking area exists just to the north of the erstwhile station (it used to be sited in The Beechings).  As a hint, the approach road is called Upper Station Road!

 

While the ¼ mile stretch through Henfield is completely obliterated, immediately to the north of the car park the cycle route resumes along the old line through a cutting.  I am guessing that there was once an overbridge where the car park once was for there is a steep slope down to the level of the railbed.  It would have made for a good startexcept that being Sunday, the line was full of walkers and cyclists setting off for the afternoon and I had to be a little careful.  Luckily I was soon past them and had a long section of clear route. The surface of this section is very smooth, having had some work done to it and I wondered why the rest of the line couldn’t get similar treatment?  It would encourage even more families.

 

The first mile out of Henfield was very similar to the section to the south as the line continues up the Adur Valley.  Eventually I came to an impressive viaduct over the River Adur, which would be the last time that the line crossed.  Immediately afterwards was one of those slightly strange moments that disused railways sometimes give.  The field to the north of the viaduct looked as if it had never been crossed by a railway line, so complete was its return to pre-railway days.  In the adjacent field was what I took to be the remains of a pillbox, but nothing like any I had seen before.

 

Once across the field and through another gate and the route resumed for half a mile of so.  This part of the route is obviously used by the local farmer since a car was parked halfway along, and there were some very large piles of dung at various intervals.  Such is the indignity of losing the rails!

 

Just shy of Partridge Green, I had to take the one and only detour of this section of route.  Fortunately it is not as onerous as the Steyning detour.  The trackbed to the north is taken over once again by housing and an industrial park, necessitating a diversion along a bridle path and short road section.  The road into Partridge Green has a rather odd hump in it and unless you have cycled this section of the Downs Link you may have been completely unaware that it is the remnants of the road bridge over the rail line.  You still need some imagination, since the underside of the bridge is not obvious, and the only giveaway is the wall running alongside the road on the eastern side only.

 

The trackbed has been taken into private ownership to the north of Partridge Green, but fortunately there is a wide enough path alongside so as not to make it a problem.  The trackbed north to West Grinstead, the next station, has rather a different character.  It is a section of short wooded sections and wide open spaces as the Adur is left behind.  The surface is pretty ropy here though so watch out for some big rocks that could send you tumbling off your steed.  It’s a section that is almost completely devoid of railway interest and I was pleased that I had started in Henfield for I was obviously going uphill to West Grinstead.  Always best to get the long drag out of the way early on I always think. 

 

Eventually I reached West Grinstead, surely the most rural of the original stations which supposedly served a scattered community, but would probably act as the proxy station for Cowfold now if the line was still running.  The approach to the station is a little odd for the bridge carrying the A272 over the line has been reconstructed and where a brick built rail bridge would once have done the job, cyclists now have to make do with a corrugated steel tube under the road embankment.

 

The station itself though is the only one still in existence on the whole route.  The platforms are still extant and the station master’s house still presides over the line.  There is even a signal on the up platform (this is a particularly popular accessory for my two girls who always make a beeline for it when we are up this way).  It was the original signal too, having been reinstalled in 2000 (see http://webserver01.westsussex.gov.uk/wscc/Assistant%20Chief%20Exec/Communications/Press%20Releases.nsf/d56a29d8ba25711c80256cf6003bf3c8/94139682da9b601d80256a07005978c9?OpenDocument) In the former cattle dock is an old coach that houses some interesting exhibits of what the line used to look like, including a working model of the station showing what it looked like in its heyday.

 

The line to the north is a bit of a slog up to Southwater station and the Country Park.It is also very well used, perhaps the busiest part of the track.  This is probably because of the ease of parking at Southwater, Copsale and West Grinstead.  In truth though it isn’t the nicest section – the trackbed is pretty rough in places and the missing bridge at Copsale brings an unwelcome conflict with a busy country lane.  My attention was drawn however to the pub sign, which showed a stylised artists impression of how the overbridge may have looked.  A little further on and the Southwater bypass cruelly cuts across the route, leaving the cyclist to negotiate a fairly unfriendly underpass.  The trackbed is not regained until the country park some distance further on.  The old trackbed is visible, but only as a fairly uninviting and overgrown embankment alongside the potholed service road that the Downs Link uses.

 

Southwater Country Park is a useful pitstop on quieter days.  The café and lake are enjoyable places to linger when the place isn’t too busy and a far cry from the original use, which was a large brickworks and quarry!

 

This section is a pleasant cycle ride although a bit rough in places.  It’s fairly short, with a round trip of about twelve miles, making it an ideal afternoon or summer evening outing.  The café at Southwater Country Park is recommended and there are also pubs at Henfield and Copsale immediately adjacent to the route.  If you are interested in rail history though it’s pretty short on remaining features, with the station at West Grinstead having most of what’s left!

Sussex Coast Path Day 9 Brighton - Newhaven

Back to the coast again and the next section of this walk is along the coastline of my childhood. I grew up in Newhaven and during my early life I travelled along the A259 along this stretch of coast more times than I can remember. Yet, to my knowledge I have never actually walked the whole stretch and never before embarking on this journey had I even considered it. Yet, I have looked forward to walking this stretch for some time, mainly because it is the first time since I set out that I have actually gained some height!

Getting between the two ends of the route is very easy, with a half hourly train service or a bus ride every ten minutes, both taking around the same time to get between the two places. I made my way down to the coast from the train station to reunite with the path at the bottom of West Street. Given that it was early September and with people in a summery mood, it was perhaps not surprising that the seafront was packed with tourists. The sun was quite hot, although a fresh breeze came onshore making it absolutely perfect for the walk ahead.

Along the seafront between the piers, I soon became aware that a lot of people were wearing Wycombe Wanderers football kits and I remembered that they were playing Brighton and Hove Albion today. The fans from visiting teams at this time of year must love the opportunity of a weekend at the seaside. I wasn’t prepared though for seeing the entire Wycombe football squad wandering along there and they were getting some attention as they passed.

I soon reached the Palace Pier (I still can’t bring myself to call it Brighton Pier) and the air was filled with the smell of frying, with doughnuts and fish and chips trying to compete for all the passing nostrils. I couldn’t decide whether it was a smell I liked or one that made me feel slightly ill. When I looked over the pier I couldn’t help but be sad at the vandalism at the end of the pier, where the original Oriental Theatre was removed in the mid 1980s and will most likely never return despite noises by the current owners that it would restore it. Still the old pier is still vibrant and has plenty of visitors unlike its erstwhile neighbour further west.

Across the road from the pier is another building that I remember looking more grand than it does now it has modern additions. The old Aquarium (now a Sea Life Centre) has a number of restaurants and food places tacked on to the roof, giving it a much more modern feel than I remember and making the famous gateway look a little lost among the rest.

Iconic buildings and man-made features abound along this stretch of coast and I have to confess to being very tempted to ride along the Volks Railway to Black Rock to save a mile or so of the walk. I managed to resist, helped by the fact that a train wasn’t waiting as I passed. This railway is the oldest electric railway still running anywhere in the world, although it was rationalised from when I rode on it as a kid. The Aquarium station only operates from one platform these days, and although the trains themselves still look in great nick for their age the track and the stations could benefit from a little work.

As I headed along the eastern part of the promenade and Madeira Drive, the number of people lessened and the beach became less interesting. I did see though that it would be holding another speed trial next week along here and I was glad to be passing when it was quieter. All I had for company were Volks railway trains and people just down here for a walk or a run. The old Playground that was a mini theme park when I was a kid is long gone but some attempts are being made to bring more people to this bit of the beach, with some volleyball courts on offer and a smart looking children’s play area. I was starting to realise how much had changed along this seafront since I was a boy, without me even really noticing.

At Black Rock, the Marina blocked my way and although the undercliff walk is now newly reopened and restored, I felt that walking along the clifftops would be much more interesting. It actually felt a bit weird going uphill on the coast, after more than fifty miles of pretty flat coast to get here. As I walked along the clifftops I was interested to see how much had changed at the Marina. I can just about remember it being built when I was a child and in the early days the only occupants were many many boats. Now it is a different story, with at least half the area taken up by luxury apartments and retail outlets – I’m sure they pay better than mooring fees. The question is, will we see more cities built out to sea in the future? Even after living near this place most of my life, I still find the sight of the place quite odd especially now it is almost a self-contained town in itself.

The clifftop walk along to Rottingdean was not as interesting as I thought it would be, although in the warm sunshine it was very pleasant. The path though passes too close to the main road to make it truly enjoyable and on a lesser day this section would have been rather tedious. There are two more iconic buildings on the way, very different in style but I couldn’t imagine the cliffs without either one of them. The first is the enormous structure of Roedean School, now resplendent in a new coat of cream coloured paint (I remember plain pebble-dash when I was young), while the second is the centre for blind service personnel at St Dunstan’s. This big brick edifice dates from the 1938 and still incorporates some fine looking art-deco features. As I passed by I also became aware of another feature of this part of the coast – the vast numbers of buses that ply their trade between Rottingdean and Brighton. I counted a line of six buses at one point, all starting from different places but all heading into Brighton and all full up with people.

The green clifftops came to an end at Rottingdean, a place that once was probably a very charming village but now with a feeling of suburbia having been swallowed by Brighton. The first building I came to was the old windmill, distinctively pitch black and hearteningly in better condition than I have ever seen it, complete with sails and restored. When I was a child it wasn’t in grand shape, with no sails and looking fairly derelict. The rest of Rottingdean wasn’t faring quite so well, with one of the prime shops on the high street completely boarded up, bringing the tone of the street down with it. I was disappointed that it was high tide as I passed for I would quite like to have had a look at the remains of the old ‘Daddy Long Legs’ railway that once ran to Brighton from here. I never realised that any remains existed until I saw them featured on Coast the other week. Maybe another time I shall come down and have a look.

I soon passed through Rottingdean and into the next place to have started life in the 20^th Century; Saltdean. This is more non-descript than Rottingdean but the cliffs here are actually my favourite along the whole stretch of coast for their shape and undulation. On the landward side of the road here is the exquisite Saltdean Lido, a real survivor having been under threat many times over the past few years. It now looks better than it has done for many years, although I was disappointed to note that even on such a hot day there appeared to be only two visitors! Up on the hill the redevelopment of the other famous building in Saltdean, the erstwhile Ocean Hotel (formerly run by Butlins), seemed to be mostly complete and formed a more pleasing crest of the hill than all the scaffolding and cranes that had been there for what has seemed a very long time.

After I passed the centre of Saltdean I became aware of the handiwork of the health and safety police. Along the cliff line was a couple of parallel lines of chain link fencing, a new section recently installed about five metres in from the edge to replace the original line that was now perilously close to the edge. In some places there was evidence of more fencing, making for a curious spectacle.

As I left Saltdean I paused for a minute at the top of the hill by the memorial and enjoyed the view behind me back across Brighton, Worthing and so clear was the day back to Selsey in the very distance. In fact I was so taken with the view that I didn’t pay attention to what the memorial was for! After a few minutes I continued on my way, a lot closer to the road than I would have liked since the clifftop path is interrupted here by a sewage works that has caused much local controversy in recent years. On rejoining the path just by the Badgers Watch path, one of the reasons for this controversy hit my nostrils, the pungent smell of sewage! I looked up to see that the pub beer garden was full, suggesting perhaps that my nostrils were keener than the diners only a few yards from me?

Shortly after I entered the long section through the next 1920s development – Peacehaven. This was once known as New Anzac on Sea until Gallipoli happened and Peacehaven was chosen instead. It really is a fairly monstrous place and I can’t imagine it being allowed to be built today. Now occupying a couple of miles of cliff frontage, it is responsible for keeping the sea at bay, since the base of the cliffs is highly protected. Fortunately the view from the top of the cliffs more than compensates for the rather faceless and characterless slab of suburbia that is wholly out of place in this environment. The one interesting feature along here though is the rather momentous crossing from Western into Eastern Hemisphere as I crossed the Greenwich Merdian, which actually meets the English Channel here and is marked by a magnificent monument.

Thankfully the Peacehaven stretch allowed me to pick up the pace a bit and I continued along the clifftops of my youth into my final destination at Newhaven. I am very fond of these cliffs, although to my shame I have not been up here for a very long time. The sea defences run out at the end of the built up area of Peacehaven and from here to Newhaven the sea is allowed to do what comes naturally. I was shocked at how much erosion had taken place in the last few years since I had last ventured up this way. Many of the topographical and histrorical features that I remembered as a child had now disappeared entirely or were in grave danger of being lost to the sea as the cliffs continue to crumble. As I got closer to Newhaven the remnants of the World War 2 defences that fascinated me as a child were still in evidence but some of the lookouts and lumps of concrete that were left behind are almost gone and it is conceivable that in my lifetime there will be virtually none of this left. On the landward side of the path the area known as Harbour Heights was once dominated by fields of barley and corn but no longer – there was almost no arable agriculture left, just swathes of rough pasture punctuated by the same houses built by speculators in the 1920s and 1930s. The town is threatening to swallow these houses though, with Court Farm Road now full of newish houses and the area above Tideway School sporting a housing estate of several years vintage. Even the old caravan park I remember is now full of semi permanent houses rather than the rickety old mobile homes that were once there.

Despite the changes I thoroughly enjoyed walking along the clifftops and taking in the view across Seaford Bay. The sea was a beautiful turquoise blue inshore and further out it suddenly changed to royal blue. All across the bay were hundreds of sailing boats all taking advantage of the perfect sailing conditions and adding to the spectacle. Eventually I reached the old gun emplacements at Newhaven Fort and was surprised to find that the lower path that I had usually taken around this end of the cliff was now closed because of landslip activity. I heeded the warning and went past the coastguard station instead. At least up here I got a better view of Newhaven Breakwater, an obstacle to longshore drift along these parts, and built to ensure that the ‘new haven’ which opened up in the early 1800s is kept open for shipping.

After leaving the fort behind, I dropped down the hill to walk alongside the harbour. Newhaven has been in constant change since I was a child, but seeing the near desertion of the harbour was a sad sight. I remember coming down to the docks as a young schoolboy to have a look at the shipping, the fishermen landing their catches, watching the roadstone depot in action and looking around the lifeboat station. The port today was completely empty except for the lifeboat and 3 fishing boats, one arriving just before I got there. The port infrastructure is largely gone and the West Quay, once the centre of the fishing activity is now slowly being replaced by des res blocks of flats of the kind being built up and down derelict dockfronts all over Britain.

Of course this decline is not new to me, for I frequently travel to Newhaven to visit family, but there is something about walking through a place that has changed so much that focuses the mind. For me though this was the end of today’s walk; I could have continued on to Seaford if time had been on my side for I felt I had plenty left in the tank, but sadly family matters were calling once again.

Wey-South Path Section 2 Cranleigh - Billingshurst

After the appetiser a few weeks ago, I was keen to get back to this path although I knew that the next section from Cranleigh to Billingshurst would require longer than the extended evening walks/ cycle rides that I have been doing during the summer.  It has been almost three months since I last did a walk of greater distance than 8-10 miles and so I thought this would be a good one to kick off the autumn season back on my three weekly frequency between days out.  In truth it was a late substitute though as I had planned a trip along the seafront, but a forced mid afternoon start had put me off.

 

Billingshurst is not the typical place to begin or end a walk using the Wey South Path, since it is a good mile off route, but it is an easy place to use public transport across a surprisingly remote and rural part of West Sussex/ Surrey.  Since the demise of the rail route through Cranleigh, a less obvious interchange between buses is needed in the village of Slinfold.  Despite being only about ten miles apart the bus journey between the two ends of the route is approximately fifty minutes, with a fifteen minute wait outside the Red Lyon pub in Slinfold.

 

I didn’t get to Cranleigh until almost 3pm, leaving about five and a bit hours to cover the twelve miles along the Wey South path to Billingshurst.  At my normally steady 2.5 – 3 miles an hour that did not leave much room for manoeuvre.  On reaching Cranleigh I retraced my steps up the Downs Link for a short distance until I regained the canal route just north of Rye Farm.  Initially although on the route it was almost impossible to tell for the canal bed was obliterated although the path itself followed the original line.  There was no going north along the line of the towpath though, any temptation was quickly extinguished by a warning sign of private property and dogs patrolling.  Luckily I was heading south and within a few yards, a very overgrown stretch of canal started, mostly out of view behind a huge thicket of brambles but there nonetheless.  I don’t know why but this early re-acquaintance got me quite excited about the exploration ahead.

 

The brambles eventually gave way to more established hedge and tree growth, enabling me to get down into the canal bed and have a closer look.  There was no water and the canal bed was surprisingly wide and shallow.  I wasn’t sure if it had been this way when built or had suffered some infilling over the years.  As I continued past the very attractive Rye Farm, the canal bed got wetter and by the time I reached Elmbridge there was some very weed choked surface water.

 

Elmbridge is still used by the B2130 road to Godalming and despite the fact that it has not been necessary for the canal for over 130 years, it still appears to be its original width and on occasion must cause a bit of a hold up for traffic since only one car can pass at a time.  I also got very confused about the way forward here and thought I was going mad when the map suggested that the route continued due south of the bridge and I was confronted by a very high fence.  Eventually I realised that a very high gate at the side of the bridge was actually where I was supposed to go and wasn’t just a private entrance to a garden.  Clearly the owner does not want to go out of his way to publicise the route over his land.  As it was I felt quite uncomfortable crossing the garden, while a couple of children were playing there.  On the right of me where the canal should have been was completely infilled and built upon, leaving the path as the only remnant of the route (presumably a left over right of way?).  I was glad to be across the garden and continued southwards.  Further along the infilling was obviously still carrying on as a woman was returning with a wheelbarrow from the head of the tipping area.  The canal here is being filled in with tree cuttings and any vestige is slowly being removed.  I am sure having the hollow would be a pain if you had plans for the land, but I couldn’t help thinking that this behaviour is seriously undermining the effort going on elsewhere to restore the route.

 

South of the tipping head and the canal bed was in much better condition, albeit still without water.  The sun was beginning to emerge too and the fleece I had been wearing thus far had to go as the air warmed considerably.  The official Wey South path did not continue very far along the towpath, and a deviation via West Cranleigh nurseries seemed on the cards.  However, the towpath seemed to stretch forward ahead of me with no warning signs of private land or landowners releasing the hounds so I took the risk of continuing (if you follow too, on your own head be it!).  It cut out about half a mile of unnecessary and from looking at the map, rather tedious looking walking.  I instead enjoyed the towpath and looking at all the plantlife that had slowly taken over the canal bed.  Himalayan Balsam in particular covered great swathes of the canal bed and wooded fringes, crowding almost everything else out.  The bees and other insects seemed to love the stuff and with big gawdy pink and white flowers, it is perhaps easy to see why.

 

At Mill Farm I had hoped to continue along the towpath in much the same way as a mile further back, but a big fence ahead of me put paid to that idea and I instead had to make do with the diversion along a nearby road.  This emphasised the problems that the would-be restorers of the Wey and Arun Canal will have.  If even the rights of way that would once have come with the towpath have been extinguished, what hope is there for a group of people wanting to rebuild the whole canal, fill it with water and potentially have dozens of pleasure boats going backwards and forwards along it?  In these days of NIMBYism, people are very protective of their privacy and their land and don’t want the hoi polloi trampling all over it.

 

Ahead of me the canal bed was devoid of water and almost all structure, but could still be distinguished by the shape of the terrain.  As I wandered sadly towards the road I could hear the sound of screeching tyres and a rather annoying plane that seemed to be taking off and landing every few minutes.  Initially I thought the screeching of tyres was due to some very bad driving but when it persisted I remembered that I was approaching Dunsfold Aerodrome, where Top Gear is filmed.  It all made sense to me now; maybe the plane was also involved in the filming?

 

The next part of the canal I reached was a bit of a milestone, since Flash Bridge coincides with crossing the main Horsham to Guildford road and also is the summit point of the whole canal.  On the northern side of the road is Flash Bridge, perhaps the best preserved bridge on the route southwards so far.  Since it is privately owned I did not inspect it too closely, but at last I felt that the canal was worth exploring not just for a few muddy and weed choked watery sections, but also for some of the remaining infrastructure.

 

On the south side of the road the canal looks to be fairly well preserved as it skirts along the southern edge of Dunsfold Aerodrome (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunsfold_Aerodrome).  I followed the towpath for some distance until the next overbridge.  There was absolutely no chance of exploring that as it was firmly fenced off by British Aerospace, although it is no longer owned by them.  Apparently the current owners are trying to develop the site as a housing estate and retail park, or possible Eco-Town.  When I crossed the field and rounded the mobile home estate further along I wandered along past the Three Compasses Pub to inspect the canal at this point and was rather surprised to see that the gate still suggested a military presence, such was the tightness of security and warnings not to take photos (I later discovered that a significant amount of test flying still takes place).

 

The Three Compasses was the pub that hosted the opening of the canal way back in 1816 and the owners are probably quite keen on the reopening of the route.  The pub has lost not just passing trade from canal boat owners, but also the road in front was completely cut off when the aerodrome was built, severing the original route from Alfold to Bramley and necessitating in a more modern route to the east.  Nevertheless the pub seemed quite popular as I passed by on a Saturday teatime, with quite a few people outside having a drink.  I’ve no doubt that having a mobile home park on the doorstep helps, and maybe even Jeremy Clarkson pops in for a half of shandy when he needs a rest from the rigours of driving round the test track and pontificating on the various features of the cars he drives.

 

From the Three Compasses, the route follows the road again for a bit, which is fortunately quite quiet since there isn’t much room to get on to the verge.  At Cobdens Farm the canal meets the road once again and when operational this must have been the scene of a fair amount of activity since there is obviously the remains of a wharf and winding hole (area used to help turn the narrow boats around).  This is a recently restored section and the towpath is available for use, although I wasn’t sure for how far.  I instead continued along the Wey South path through the adjacent forest until reuniting with the tow path about a mile further along the route.

 

The next section was a joy as the route follows the towpath through Sidney Wood.  In fact, I didn’t know it at the time, but apart from a few short diversions, the path now follows the side of the canal for getting on for six miles.  As I wandered through the woods I could now see the vision of the Wey and Arun Canal Trust.  Restoring this section is surely not a pipe dream but will become reality in the next few years, since much of the canal bed is intact and the route positively beautiful.  By now most of the cloud from earlier had burned off and I was treated to a lovely early evening woodland walk.  I passed by another winding hole and a section that was obviously once governed by some long disappeared locks, since the level of the canal abruptly changed at one point.  A little way past here and I reached a large fenced off house, which was a bit of a surprise.  This house, and the old lock keepers cottage a little further south are likely to be the cause of the most serious obstacle to restoring the route through here.  It is unlikely that the homeowners are going to want to restore the route immediately past their houses, and the Trust are thinking seriously about re-routing the canal entirely here.

 

The path diverts away from the towpath for a short distance before coming to High Bridge, where the tow path is regained once more.  The line of the old canal is obvious through the back garden of the old lock keepers cottage (now rather bigger than the original house!).  I now left Sidney Wood and continued alongside the canal bed all the way to Loxwood and beyond.  This is a section undergoing restoration and active work seems to be going on in a number of places, since I passed a number of warning signs about the path being closed.  Fortunately I managed to get through without being inconvenienced in any way, but some sections have no real alternative routes so it would have been tough on me if I had come across any closures.  In one place the bank looked as if it had been repaired to help with water tightness, while further along the lock at Devils Hole was undergoing what looked to be the final throes of restoration to help connect another section for cruising.

 

At Loxwood, the dry canal bed suddenly gave way to the very newly restored section under the B2133, which only opened in May 2009.  This was a major obstacle to progress northwards from the adjacent Onslow Arms, since the road was built across the canal bed many years ago, completely severing the north and south sections.  To enable the road to continue its present course without a level change (and maintain visibility along the route), the canal profile had to be altered to enable it to cross underneath the road.

 

The Onslow Arms is a very popular pub and is the point that most visitors will get top see the restored canal.  Boat trips are run from here to help get people interested in the route and act as a fund raising opportunity (restoring the canal looks like it is hideously expensive!).  It was pretty quiet as I passed, probably because of being a Saturday night.  However, there were a few dog walkers about ambling along the towpath.  This section makes for a very pleasant walk and seeing the canal properly restored here gives a lot of hope for the future.

 

As I meandered around the canal I came upon the Wiggonholt, the electric boat now operated by the Canal Trust, which was taking out a group of enthusiasts.  I couldn’t help but smile as most of their cameras were focused on a very bemused looking swan going about his business on the canal.  I crossed the Drungewick Aqueduct shortly after, another obstacle overcome a few years back which takes the canal over the River Arun.  Sadly, this was to be the last of the towpath walking for the day, for beyond the lane bridge next to the aqueduct, the towpath forms a dead end and for onward walkers like me another lengthy diversion was ahead.

 

By now I was also getting quite concerned about the time.  With all the route problems earlier and the stopping and looking at features along the route, I was faced with the prospect of darkness falling before I got to Billingshurst.  My camera battery had also died and so I decided that I would hot foot it to Billingshurst as quickly as possible, not stopping too much to look at any further features but save them for another day.  However, I had not appreciated how much further it would be and the relative difficulty of the route (including a fairly scary section of road walking along the B2133).  It was another hour between Drungewick Lane Bridge and Billingshurst and by the time I reached the car I got back just after the sun had set.

 

This is a most enjoyable day’s walk, spoiled only by some fairly unpleasant road sections that are unavoidable but mercifully quite short.  Eventually as more of the canal becomes restored hopefully there will be rights of access along the towpath and as and when this becomes reality this will make it a very enjoyable route indeed.  As I wandered along the towpath I felt as if I needed to come back along here on a five year frequency to see how much progress has been made!

 

In addition to my additional Flickr pictures of my walk (click title to view), you might also like to look at the excellent http://www.canalnavigations.co.uk/weyarun/wyarun01.html site where there are more pictures available.  Some of the winter pictures of the section through Sidney Wood make for a good contrast with mine from high summer.

Sussex Coast Walk Day 8 Shoreham-by-Sea to Brighton

Another ten days passed before I was able to get out on the next section of the Sussex Coast, in part due to the weather. I actually completed the whole section from Worthing to Brighton as originally intended today, finishing at the bottom of West Street rather than perhaps the more natural finishing point of the Palace Pier (I know it’s called Brighton Pier these days, but I’m a traditionalist and have always known it as Palace Pier). This due to the deterioration in the weather, which threatened to dump a large amount of rain on me at any time.

I shall ignore the early section of the ride in this report, which was covered in detail last time. In truth I didn’t linger for any part of it, wanting instead to get to Shoreham as quickly as possible so that I could properly explore the onward section. The weather at the start of the ride was almost identical to the last time out, with a stiff breeze at my back (helping progress considerably!) and clear sunny conditions (although a fair amount of sea spray hampering distance views beyond Brighton from Worthing).

At Shoreham I ignored the beach this time and crossed the footbridge once again. Most walkers tales describe the awful route along the A259 from here into Southwick but since I was on my bike once again I decided to try out the relatively new signposted route for bikes through Shoreham. This passed around the old church of St Mary de Haura and gave me a good look at the town, which was pretty quiet in this early evening. I sat and waited for the crossing gates to open for what seemed an age before continuing my journey on the north side of the railway, which seemed rather odd as I was by now about a mile from the sea. The route initially took me through various Council housing estates full of bored looking kids not sure what they should be doing other than ‘hanging out’. It was then through a very large allotment site, by now bulging with all sorts of tasty looking produce before more housing estates. At the edge of Southwick I headed back towards the coast road so I could take a look at the lighthouse.

Believe it or not this is the first ‘proper’ lighthouse that I have come across on my travels along the Sussex Coast and it has been here since the 1840s and was refurbished in the 1980s as it was showing its age after 140 years of solid service! The lifeboat station next door is under construction and is beginning to take shape. There must be a major refurbishment programme going on in the RNLI since this is one of a few construction projects involving the organisation I have come across recently. When finished it will apparently look like the artists impression on the website at http://www.shorehamlifeboat.co.uk/

I continued along the coast road into Southwick and upon reaching Shoreham Harbour I ventured over the locks of the port on to the eastern spit which formed at the mouth of the Adur. Road access to the spit exists only from the Brighton end so by vehicle to get to the other side of the locks is about 6 miles by road, rather than a couple of hundred metres on foot. Looming large ahead of me was Shoreham Power Station, a relatively new building that although big is less than half the size of the old coal fired plant that I remember at this site when I was growing up. A history of the old brick built plant (that resembled a smaller version of the famous plant in Battersea) can be found at http://www.yeoldesussexpages.com/misc/power/swickps1.htm

The port at Shoreham is still relatively busy, in comparison to the inactivity nowadays at Littlehampton and even at Newhaven (still to come). Aggregate traffic still uses the port and a couple of these ships were berthed not too far from the locks, which control the water level in the port. There are still quite a lot of fishing boats using the port as well as the inevitable pleasure craft. As a pedestrian it is quite difficult to get any good views of any but the closest ships, since most of the wharves are off limits and surrounded by some very tall metal fences.

On the spit I turned right initially to take another look at the mouth of the River Adur and the eastern breakwater. This is a great vantage point for views eastwards and Beachy Head could be picked out quite readily. Ahead of me the blue skies were slowly being replaced by some threatening clouds, which gave some interesting light in the late evening sun. After lingering for awhile getting some lungfulls of fresh sea air and enjoying the view I pressed on along the very depressing port road towards Hove. In truth the section from Shoreham so far had been pretty industrial and not exactly the prettiest part of Sussex. I was glad I was cycling and not walking since it enabled me to press on more quickly.

Eventually I reached Hove Lagoon after detouring round a few large houses on the seafront itself. These are owned by among others, Norman Cook (aka Fat Boy Slim), Nick Berry (once of Heartbeat and Eastenders) and Heather Mills. They guard their privacy quite closely (and who can blame them), with lots of ‘private’ signs up to make sure you don’t accidentally think their drive is part of the esplanade. The Esplanade is quite a surprise changing the coastline almost instantly from working port to pleasure coast. The promenade is wider than many roads but rather disappointingly this end is prohibited for cyclists, even though it is quieter than closer to Brighton and considerably wider than other sections of coast where cycling is permitted.

The lagoon was built in 1930, originally for sailing model boats but is now a watersports venue, especially for training on various pleasure craft including dinghies and windsurfs. Some of the shelters looked as if they could do with being refurbished, both around the lagoon and on the seafront. Maybe the presence of Heather Mills new café next door to the lagoon will attract some public finance as well as visitors to this far end of Hove seafront.

On the way in towards Hove the seafront got generally busier and as well as the great long line of ubiquitous beach huts, other attractions such as small children’s rides etc started appearing. I passed the very shabby looking King Alfred Centre, supposedly due for replacement (although I’ve heard that for most of my adult life) and then on past the large blocks of flats that are unusually built on the south side of the coast road.

Once I had got beyond these Hove Lawns opened up ahead of me and were absolutely thronged with people playing all manner of ball games and exercising. Teams of people were doing circuit training and jogging activities and I watched with fascination at this spectacle, which I am pretty sure is unique in Sussex. One group of lads in particular caught my eye, for they appeared to be playing a game of football that was black people against white people! I have never in my life seen that before and was particularly amused by the fact that the white men played without shirts.

At the end of the lawns my attention turned to architecture. Hove seafront is one of the grandest in Britain and was deliberately planned and built all around the same time. On the seafront itself is the very fine looking bandstand, now looking resplendent following its renovation. Interestingly (although I didn’t know it at the time), the official unveiling of the restoration took place the very next day, so you could say that I got a sneak preview! More information can be found at http://www.brightonbandstand.com/

On the landward side many of the seafront apartments were glowing in the sun and against the dark skies behind looked absolutely stunning. They were a photographer’s dream, although my shot didn’t really do them justice, partly because of my vantage point on the wrong side of the road. As I headed more into the city I passed the wreckage of Brighton’s West Pier, once the finest pier in Britain and the only grade 1 listed. Since it burned down a few years ago it has gained a new lease of life as a starling roost and interesting structure for photography (try Googling images of the old place!). It will allegedly be replaced by the Brighton i360, a tower that will be as high as the pier was long. In these days of credit crunch, I shall believe it when I see it! See more at http://www.westpier.co.uk/i360.html

On the landward side are the great monolithic hotels, the red coloured Metropole (where I have stayed, and very nice too!) and the more famous Grand, scene of one of the IRA’s greatest outrages when it was bombed in 1984, killing several prominent political figures and narrowly missing the Prime Minister, Mrs Thatcher, during the Conservative Party Conference.

Just past the Grand and I headed up West Street to catch my train back to Worthing. I enjoyed my evening cycle trip and was glad that I had explored this part of the coast using two wheels rather than two legs. The next section is along the cliffs towards Newhaven so I think I be back to walking then!

Sussex Coast Walk Day 7 Worthing - Shoreham-by-Sea

After a wet Saturday and an unpromising start to Sunday I was really pleased to see the weather perk up considerably during the afternoon so I could get out for another Sunday evening stint.  Unfortunately time was very restricted and so any prospect of a trip away from home wasn’t on the cards.  Lucky for me that the next stretch of coastal route could be started from home, but knowing that it would be pavement all the way didn’t tempt me to consider walking the route.  Instead I thought it would be good to try out the new(ish) cycle route from Worthing through Lancing to Shoreham.  I had hoped originally that this stretch would take me all the way to Brighton, but the second half of the route would have to wait for another time.

 

I regained the coast at Grand Avenue, more or less where I’d left off a couple of weeks beforehand and did the law-abiding thing and cycled along the main road rather than the promenade.  Although the promenade is like the M1 for most of its length from Grand Avenue to the Pier, the Council has banned cycling following an accident involving a pedestrian a few years ago.  Various attempts have been made to restore cycling (and indeed many people still do cycle along there) but this has yet to be ratified.  I did not want to risk getting a ticket from a police officer, despite the fact that the promenade was quiet and my cycling would have been low risk.

 

It does feel funny taking pictures in your own town, but a couple of sights along the western end of the promenade should not be missed.  The first is the delightfully replanted Heene Gardens in front of some very grand looking flats variously called West Mansions, Heene Terrace (and a couple of other names that escape me).  The other is the Lido, a relic of what was once an outdoor swimming pool but which is now an amusement facility for small children (see website at http://www.theworthinglido.co.uk/ ).  Interestingly this was originally built as a bandstand and later became a lido, when these were all the rage.  Before closing as a lido it apparently housed a couple of dolphins for a year when they were rehoused from the Aquarium in Brighton.  The pool still remains under the floor allegedly so if fashion once again dictated it could once again resume this role, although it has not functioned for twenty years in this guise.

 

A little further along the promenade is Worthing Pier and surely one of the best preserved in Britain.  On a fresh summer’s evening it looked in wonderful shape with flags fluttering in the wind and plenty of people wandering along its length.  The view from the end is pretty good too, with the Isle of Wight still just about visible in the west and Beachy Head in the east.  The other jewel of Worthing’s seafront is the Dome cinema, recently refurbished and a real survivor having been threatened with demolition not too many years ago.  Inside the old spirit of cinemas is still very much in evidence and could be quite a pleasant surprise for anyone who has grown up on a diet of multiplexes.  Despite these obvious attractions, Worthing seafront does not have the grandeur of other seaside resorts and has been a victim of some fairly awful developments (Grafton anyone?).  Fortunately some of the newer developments appear to be addressing some of these problems and the new Warnes development and forthcoming Eardley will hopefully restore some of the lost character.  From Splash Point just east of the pier it is a pleasant couple of miles ride into Lancing along the cycle path that was opened in 2003.  This has now been extended into Lancing, avoiding the need to use the dreaded A259 road at all until Shoreham-by-Sea.  The eastern end of Worthing is dominated by the soon to be demolished (allegedly) Aquarena swimming pool, which must have seemed ahead of its time when built in the 1960s but now sadly in desperate need of replacement.  The eastern end of the seafront is dominated by attractive terraced houses that lend a nice character to the area, in contrast to the seemingly endless blocks of flats that dominate the western end.

 

The only gap between Worthing and Lancing is formed by Brooklands Park, a smallish pleasure park dominated by a pleasant lake where a train runs around.  There were few people there this evening as all the attractions had closed for the day, leaving only a few dog walkers and plenty of bird life swimming around.  A little further on and I reached Beach Green in Lancing.  This is a large recreational space behind the seafront and the subject of a local difficulty when the Parish Council discovered a number of concrete blocks under the surface a few years ago.  These had been put there as tank traps during World War 2 and afterwards buried.  Since then soil movements exposed them at the surface, proving to be quite a headache for the Parish, who had endless debates on what to do about them.  I understand that they are to be reburied rather than the disruption that would go with removal.  A good picture of what they once looked like can be found at http://www.northlancing.com/Community/Concrete%20Blocks%20at%20Beach%20Green/Blocks%20buried%20under%20Beach%20Green%20Lancing.htm

 

The beach at Lancing was thronged with kite surfers all taking advantage of the stiff breeze and the lack of other beach users.  Watching them whirl around was quite fascinating, although I wouldn’t have swapped places as I hate cold water!  The path alongside the green diverges away from the main road and soon traffic sounds are replaced only by sounds of the sea.  The continuation of Beach Green eventually leads into Widewater Lagoon, a piece of the sea now landlocked by the changing beachfront.  Looking at the topography of this part of the coast it is easy to imagine that the lagoon was probably much bigger originally, although the western end of it is now occupied by Golden Sands caravan park (which looks like it has seen better days, having several empty caravans and plots.  Some of the newer chalet type caravans look completely unfinished and give the park a bleak feel.

 

Widewater Lagoon however is a different proposition.  It now acts as a local nature reserve and unless you were to follow the coast path you may not even know of its existence since it cannot be seen at all from the A259.  It is a little haven for seabirds although there weren’t many in evidence as I passed.  At the eastern end of the lagoon, I passed into Shoreham-by-Sea although this is only an arbitrary boundary for the urban area is contiguous.  This end of Shoreham is called Shoreham Beach and has quite a different charater to the other side of the River Adur.  The Beach is basically a shingle spit although almost entirely built on since the 1930s when it first started developing from houses made out of spent railway carriages.  Now though it is hard to see any of these humble roots as many of the houses are getting ever bigger as they are redeveloped.  Some of them could even be described as ostentatious, with adornments such as observatories placed on top and enormous iron railings and verandas around them.  There is also the small matter of some road cycling along Beach Road, which comes as quite a shock after cycle paths all the way so far.  The coastal cycle route crosses the spit at the western end and crosses the Adur but I wanted to continue to the end of the spit to the mouth of the river.

At the end of the spit is Shoreham Fort, a derelict looking Napoleonic Fort which many people would like to see restored although the prospects don’t look that promising.  The beach at this point is at its widest and hosts some fabulous shingle plant communities.  When the community of Shoreham Beach was being set up it was originally colonised by arty types and many early feature films were made here apparently.  More can be learned abouyt Shoreham Fort at http://www.shorehamfort.co.uk/shoreham_fort_history.htm

 

Across the water is the end of another spit that forms Southwick Beach.  Although tantalisingly close it actually isn’t on land as there is no bridge across the mouth of the Adur.  I had a quick squint at the lifeboat station, now being rebuilt after starring in the BBC TV show Ireland to Sydney By Any Means, when Charley Boorman used Shoreham lifeboat as one of his means of transport.  The station was demolished soon after and a new one is only a matter of months away. 

 

Even on the landward side of the spit the ride back to the footbridge was a bit of a shock to the system as the brisk westerly wind which had been at my back all the way from Worthing was now suddenly in my face.  Luckily I tood advantage of the path alongside the new development at Emerald Quay to mimimise the wind and maximise the interest (Harbour Way is deathly dull!).  Nevertheless it was a bit of a slog to get to the footbridge and by now the light was already starting to fade.  I elected at this point to return home rather than press on the additional seven miles to Brighton and headed for Shoreham station.  I crossed the River Adur by way of the old concrete footbridge built in the 1930s to replace an earlier ferry.  It is now on borrowed time however, as it is due to be replaced by West Sussex County Council once funding has been secured.  For cyclists this is good news as it will form part of the coastal cycle route and they will be able to share the bridge with pedestrians (for now though cycling is banned).  See the plans at http://www.sustransconnect2.org.uk/schemes/project_detail.php?id=54

 

Once across the bridge it was through the churchyard of one of my favourite churches, St Mary De Haura (of the harbour) now over 900 years old and on to the train.  A lovely ride, although I was disappointed not to make it to Brighton.  I think next time I shall do the whole thing when I have a little more time.