Worthing Wanderer

Sussex Border Path 12 Rudgwick and Rowhook

2012-02-03T16:06:00.023Z

Conditions today could not have been better for winter walking. Clear skies and a chill in the air meant for a frosty start which is always good to encourage a quick warm up! I started my Sussex Border Path loop today at Rudgwick, a village that I skirted last time out by walking along the Downs Link path. It was tempting to reprise a lot of that section of the walk, but I resisted the temptation to walk too much of it. I parked on the roadside in the village fairly close to the church and headed up to a footpath opposite the Kings Head public house. I left the car listening to the first couple of games of the Australian Open Tennis semi-final between Andy Murray and Novak Djokovic.I vowed to keep an eye on the match on my mobile phone on the way round. Heresy I know but I was intrigued to see how it went.

Any thoughts of easy conditions created by the frost were soon dashed as there was enough warmth in the air to have melted the top surface of the path and immediately I knew that despite the benign weather conditions it would not be easy underfoot all day. A slick and greasy surface suggested that I would become a mud monster by the time I got back! I crossed a couple of fields and a wooded stream valley before coming to the old railway once again just south of Baynards Tunnel. To my surprise I saw that a lot of vegetation had been removed since my visit three weeks earlier and the view to the tunnel was almost unobstructed from some distance away.

As with the last time I came along here there was a lot of bird activity in the trees, with much twittering birdsong in the air. I passed a small group of pensioners that looked like they were returning from their early morning dog walk. It is unusual for me to meet people on weekday walks, but they were a lot friendlier than most people I encounter and I chatted to them for a short while. Surprisingly perhaps these were the only walkers I encountered all day!

Above the tunnel I rejoined the official Sussex Border Path. This skirted along the side of a field with a view across the Surrey Hills to the north and a still functioning brickworks to the south. Brick works used to be a major feature of Sussex industry but most of the works I remember as a boy are now long since closed. Although still in use, there wasn’t much activity today though so I didn’t linger too long.

Soon enough I was back in Rudgwick after my little loop to position myself where I had left the path three weeks earlier. I took the opportunity to have a good look around the churchyard at the 13th Century church. Despite the fact that we are in the middle of winter there was plenty of colour in the churchyard with a bush sporting some very red berries at one end and the first flush of daffodils at the other. This is testament to the largely mild winter that we have so far been having.

Eventually I pushed on from the church and headed eastward along some very attractive estate roads. This was something of a relief as the all weather surfacing wasn’t as hard as a road, but did give some welcome respite from the mud. The light in the trees above really caught my eye, especially the silver birch trees which look so good in this winter weather. It gave me the opportunity to play further with the camera and I experimented a lot with bokeh shots, with mixed results. I am beginning to understand the limitations of the camera and although it does take some really good quality shots, I am still not quite convinced that it offers such a significant improvement on the compact, when the extra bulk is considered. I shall probably end up taking both cameras – probably not the best idea but it should give me a better range all round.

There were quite a few small things that I could focus on in the otherwise brown and green landscape. Somehow rosehips suddenly take on extra significance and even lichen can add some cheery colour to the otherwise drab and slumbering vegetation. After all the woodland walking of previous sections this part was remarkably open and views across to the Surrey Hills were almost uninterrupted for quite some time. Even the couple of farms that I passed, at Bury St Austen’s and Ridge Farm were remarkably clean and tidy; quite the contrast to previous sections of this tour of Sussex.

It was through this section that I saw something rather remarkable – a chap mowing the lawn! I have never seen this on a January day before. I was so surprised that I remarked to the chap doing the work and he advised me that if he didn’t his lawn was growing at such a rate that it would be impossible to do by mid-February. Remarkable! It just goes to show what mild weather we have had this winter.

Eventually I came to a busy road at Honeywood House. I passed the rather splendid little lodge house and passed through what could be described as the tradesman’s entrance, for the path took a discrete line along the back of the estate. I think it now serves as a nursing home, although not all of the buildings are in use. Nevertheless given the architecture of even the outbuildings I would say that this was probably once a grand estate. The path slipped by the houses almost unnoticed and I plunged into the woods.

The woods here were fully of fluffy mosses, slivery branches of trees glowing in the sunlight above and a straightish track, possibly once an estate road. The woods were very active with singing birds and the loud knockings of woodpeckers. Yet try as I might I saw virtually none of these birds, save for one small blue tit high up in the branches beyond the reach of my camera! I came out at yet another lodge house, this one slightly grander than the other end of the estate. The owner was in his garage tinkering with his vintage motorbikes. I thought better of intruding on his privacy and pushed on without bothering or taking any pictures of him. His motorbikes were exquisite though – I was tempted for a moment!

At Monks Lane I took a sharp right and wandered along the road through the middle of hedged in fields. Behind me was the very substantial house of Monks, yet another example of fine country living for the uber-rich. Not sure that I would ever really feel comfortable living in such a large house, although I do enjoy the architecture of such places. A little further on at Monks Farm I was greeted by a very loud barking dog – not the usual guard dog but a big fluffy haired black one! He was a nuisance as no-one seemed to take any notice of him but me and I wanted to linger for a minute so I could check my route!

At Monks Farm I left the official route. To be honest the mud was getting me down a bit and although I was enjoying the fresh winter air, the constant sliding and picking my way through puddles was not enjoyable. I plotted a route that took me as close as possible to Stane Street, the ancient Roman Road that used to run between Noviomagus (Chichester) and Londinium (London) and now largely under the A29 (apart from this short section in North Sussex).

I went from Monks Farm to Charmans Farm, a rather interesting farm although surprisingly little human activity. The farm was full of cattle cooped up in barns, although to be fair they didn’t look unhappy. I am sure a warm barn is preferable to a muddy field anyway on a cold winter day. A few of them looked up as I went by, probably wondering if I was there to feed them. Alongside the farm was an enormous pile of tyres, which I subsequently learned were not there because of some kleptomania issue, but used to keep the tarpaulins covering the silage outside weighted down.

A couple of muddy fields later and a short stretch of woodland surrounding a small stream and I entered what I can honestly say is one of the biggest fields I have ever seen in my home county. The path took me on a route all the way round, probably the best part of half a mile! At the far end I entered the small hamlet of Rowhook. This small place was filled with the pungent smell of wood smoke. The road into the village had the cheery sight of a small bed of purple crocuses. I guess spring is not that far away! The pub opposite, the Chequers, had a rather unusual looking corrugated metal outbuilding and was very whitewashed. Sadly no decent looking pub sign, but the place otherwise looked in rude health which was good to see for such an out of the way place.

I was back on Stane Street briefly and passed by perhaps the most incognito trig point I have ever seen, lurking beyond a thicket of vegetation at the side of a field next to the path. Seeing anything from that point would no longer be easy and I am guessing it hasn’t been used for its primary purpose for some considerable time. I’m not even sure it would be ripe for adoption in that location.

At the intriguingly named Burnt House I took a sharp right to head off through Roman Wood on a straight track that started out wide and true and got increasingly narrow and overgrown as I proceeded. The woods were strangely silent now too – removing much of the enjoyment from the walk. I was glad to eventually reach the lake at the far end. This is now a fishing haunt although the map suggests that an ironworks would have been located at the far end. There aren’t too many furnace ponds that are so readily identified as being associated with the 17^th Century iron industry but this must have been one of the more important ones.

The walk through the subsequent part of the woods couldn’t have been more different to the section before the lake. This was a light and airy woodland, with little undergrowth and even plenty of birdlife! It made for a very enjoyable last section of walking and I was pleased to get back to Rudgwick. I got back to the car to hear the last game of the tennis match, remarkably still going on five hours after I had left it. Inevitably perhaps, Murray lost but he gave his opponent a hell of a match.

This was a section of the Border Path and loop that would perhaps have been more enjoyable when conditions underfoot are a little friendlier. Yet, even on a day like this there is much to commend this part of Sussex. Plenty of history, no crowds of people and the feeling of nature going on all around you. I had a thoroughly enjoyable time!

Sussex Border Path 11 Loxwood and Rudgwick

2012-01-16T16:53:00.024Z

Sadly I didn’t manage to get out at all over the Christmas holiday as I have done in recent years since the weather was so poor. Luckily the weather during January has improved significantly and on the first available weekend I managed to get out for another foray on the Sussex Border Path. I am approaching the section closest to my home now, which is very convenient for these short winter days. As it happens I didn’t manage to get out until nearly noon so today was never going to be anything too ambitious.

I parked at the Wey and Arun canal car park at the Onslow Arms in Loxwood for this section of the walk. My route took me up the towpath northwards until I met with the official route where I had left it back in December. I was eager to use my new camera, a Christmas present that I had not really put through its paces yet. A much bigger one than I am used to, the new model is one of the compact cameras that has a detachable lens. This would be a walk of discovery for how the new camera performs as well as checking out this part of the Sussex countryside!

The walk along the canal towpath was very revealing. Regular readers may recall that I undertook the Wey-South Path a couple of years ago (in August, with very different conditions!). This time I was heading in the opposite direction but it was immediately clear how much progress had been made since my last visit. There were a lot of excavations going on trying to restore the mile or so to the north of Loxwood.There was also some significant progress in rebuilding the locks, so it isn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that this section of canal may well be open for business in the next couple of years.My only gripe about the whole operation was that it meant a very muddy walk for me as the towpath had been rather ripped up by the heavy machinery carrying out the work.

After about 45 minutes I reached the official path and headed off towards Alfold Bars. Immediately the going got better underfoot as I headed along a very attractive tree lined path. Dotted along the strip of woodland were holly bushes resplendent with their bright and shiny red berries. With the bright sunshine coming through and the birdsong one could be forgiven for thinking that spring had already arrived, even though it was still so early in the year!

At the end of the avenue of trees I passed by Oakhurst Farm, where some serious refurbishment work was going on. A few ramshackle buildings around the edge game some hint to what had been probably a fairly run down looking farm at one stage. A little further on and I was reunited with the Loxwood Road, one that I had crossed at the beginning via the new(ish) canal bridge. This surface crossing was rather more hazardous!

Before I pushed on I took a look at the pub called Sir Roger Tichborne. This pub has bucked the trend by being completely refurbished and brought back from dereliction in the last few years. The car park was nice and full, suggesting that business might be quite good. The pub is named after a notorious case in Victorian times relating to a missing member of the aristocracy and a man who came forward to fit the bill but who was later unmasked as an imposter. The story probably explains why the pub has two different portraits exhibited on each side of the pub sign.

I took the wonderfully named Pigbush Lane opposite. This lane led me through farmland with some tantalising views out towards the Downs, now distant to the south. As I headed down towards an attractive farm in a dip in the rolling hills I caught sight of a really good looking fairy ring of fungus, still in excellent shape on this January day.

The walk then headed through woodland for quite awhile, making this section very reminiscent of what had gone before. Although unremarkable walking, the sunshine and puffy white clouds gave some excellent lighting conditions. Muddy conditions were very much the order of the day for this stretch too, with some fearsome puddles in places (almost lake-like!). I eventually came upon a most unusual sight – a large private school with some very extensive grounds. Judging by how deserted it all looked I reckon that the children hadn’t yet returned from their Christmas vacation, despite being a week into the New Year.

At the other end of the school I crossed the strangely quiet A281 and headed along a Hillhouse Lane opposite. Judging from the road signs at either side of the junction I was now heading along the border itself. It was a lane full of surprises, from the fly-tipping in the layby a few metres in, to the trees still covered in autumn berries and apples by the strangely name Aliblastairs. One house was receiving an extensive refurbishment with some serious scaffolding going on around it. From the evidence I have seen so far in this area, the recession doesn’t seem to be biting here.

At the end of the lane the path once again descended into the woods, alongside what I took to be a deer farm judging by all the high fences around and the rather miserable looking does hanging out in one corner. The sun made a welcome reappearance here after it had been hiding behind the increasing cloud layer for a time. It shone over the rambling house of Great Inholms, picking its red tiles out really well. The path then took a route across a couple of fields high on a ridge that offered really good views out to the south.

I didn’t realise at the time but this was the hill through which Baynards Tunnel had to traverse. This is was on the long lost railway line from Horsham to Guildford that I had explored in April 2009. I had picked a route that meant that I would leave the Sussex Border Path here to retrace my steps along the old line as far as the strange bridge at Rudgewick.

I stopped briefly at the tunnel to have a closer look. Getting down the cutting sides was no easy matter though and I have ran and half slithered to the bottom, making quite a muddy mess of myself in the process. It was just about worth it, although the view into the tunnel itself was quite limited. Beyond the inevitable graffiti was just inky blackness, for the other end of the tunnel has been filled in to allow for a bat roost to flourish. I headed south along the Downs Link path, which turned out to be a delightful section and vindicating my decision to use this route. By now the clouds that had bedevilled my picture taking for awhile drifted off to reveal the loveliest January day I can remember in a good long time.It was remarkably warm (13^oC) and even the birds seemed to be fooled into thinking it was an early spring day!

The going underfoot was easy going as this section of the Downs Link is probably one of the best for drainage and surfacing. I reminded myself that this would make for an excellent place to come for a winter family walk with my children. I passed by the site of Rudgewick station, now sadly untraceable like so many other stations on this former railway.

The line crossed the A281 again, this time at level rather than on the bridge that would once have carried the line across the road. A little further on and I came to the famous double deck bridge. This was not originally built this way, but was necessary after the railway inspector insisted that the line was re-profiled as he felt that Rudgwick station was built on a dangerously steep slope. The original bridge was therefore too low and another was built on top. It remains a remarkable relic, even though the line has now been closed for 47 years and seemingly will never return.

Just beyond the bridge I left the line and headed back initially across fields back towards Loxwood. Being wintertime the sun was now disappearing fast and I got a little concerned that I would not make it back to the car park before it got dark. At Tisman’s Common I joined the road back to Loxwood and found that this route back was a mixed blessing. While it provided a quick route and was easy underfoot, I became aware that in the fading light I wasn’t really dressed with appropriately easy to see clothing. Eventually at the first opportunity and a mile and a half later I took a different route down into the woods where I thought that the gathering gloom would be less of an enemy than a speeding car heading towards me.

As it happened this turned out to be a lucky break. The full moon was now high in the sky and lit my way to a certain extent now that the sun had gone. I also managed to find my way back to the Wey and Arun Canal and so had the easy task of merely following the towpath back to the Onslow Arms.

In the gloaming (I love that Scottish word – it seems so appropriate!) the atmosphere of the old canal was very interesting and serene. I didn’t linger too long though – I was in a bit of a race to get back before it got truly dark. In that I was successful – it was 4.30pm when I got back. A little close for comfort perhaps and I could have done without the scary walk along the road as the sun went down. However, I think I was too hard on myself – as I pulled away from the Onslow Arms, I passed by a youth wearing dark clothes riding a bike with no lights and wearing the biggest headphones I have ever seen. My view of safety is clearly not shared by everyone!

This was a pleasant stretch of the walk, spoiled only by some stretches of really boggy mud that were almost impassable. The section of the Sussex Border Path was infinitely better than the loop route, which was a relief as so often it has been the other way around. Time it right and I reckon the Sir Roger Tichborne looks like a good watering hole on the way round too!

Sussex Border Path Section 10 Durfold and an Old Canal

2011-12-23T15:23:00.017Z

The two biggest enemies for December walking are the shortage of daylight hours and the sea of mud that normally comes with every path! It pays not to be too ambitious for what can be achieved on these short days and I was quite pleased that I could cut my cloth according to the amount of time I had! I changed my plans somewhat as I had a later than normal start to my walk and I was keen to revisit the area around The Lake that I had only managed to see during my rather fog-bound walk last time out.

I parked at the pocket car park at the Woodland Trust site at Durfold Wood. Luckily I was one of only two cars there, as there are only about half a dozen spaces at most. From the car park I took the track leading into the wood so that I could meet up with the Sussex Border Path at the south end. Although marked on the map as an unofficial track, the quality of it seemed pretty good until I got into the wood proper. The quality deteriorated until eventually I wasn’t sure there was a track at all!I think the people from the Ordnance Survey were being a bit ambitious showing it on the map. After fighting my way through bushes I eventually emerged on to the right path.Despite all the discomfort of not having a proper path to follow it was lovely wandering through the woodland on such a lovely sunny day, as the few remaining leaves on the trees reflected the light so well.

At the far end of the ‘path’ was a large clearing created by forestry activity. Clear cutting of this nature is quite unusual in Sussex and so it was quite a stark sight. However, at the edge of the clearing was a very healthy looking holly bush taking full advantage of the new found light it had gained after the loss of its neighbours. Luckily it was well away from any roads as it would surely have been plundered for its bright red berries. I followed the SBP for only a short distance before heading down towards Winkins Woods Farm. By now the heavy soil underfoot had caused me some discomfort and so I proceeded rather more slowly as I continued towards the Lake.

When I got to the twin farms of Haymans and Little Haymans, I was rather curious to see that there was plenty of building work going on. I also had to keep my wits about me as the builders had rigged up a number of level lines with string and pegs, creating quite a tripping hazard. I managed to negotiate my way through the mud and building work to head out across a number of fields before finally getting to The Lake.Last time out I had only the briefest glimpse of this body of water, but now approaching from this side I was amazed to see how big this body of water actually was. I am guessing that it once fed a water mill, as there were some mill-like building below what looked like a dam at the end I had approached.I took the opportunity to linger and have my lunch here – it was a most agreeable place to stop.

The official path continued onwards towards Frith Lodge. However, I wanted to see a bit more of the Lake and so I rather nautily continued along the side of the field so I could get a longer view. I took care not to trespass on to the section that was controlled by the local angling society – they were quite keen to keep out walkers! Presumably they disturb the anglers’ peace and quiet! I’m not sure I was trespassing by following the field edge, but as it was a weekday and I was by myself I didn’t think anyone would mind too much, especially as there seemed to be a path of sorts. I did feel relieved when I reached the path I had last walked down three weeks earlier though.

The mood of this part of the lake was rather different to the other week when the fog had descended and I was surrounded by gloominess. Now everything had a fresh feel in the crisp winter air and I could actually see the view as I wandered up past the Deer Tower & I was really pleased that I had chosen to head back this way rather than take the route recommended by the guide book. The Deer Tower still looked deserted, which was a pity. I could live in a place with such character! Maybe it is a holiday house?

I pushed on past Shillinglee Park and took a look at the North Ponds, which had been almost invisible last time out. Today they positively glowed! I retraced my steps and headed along the road rather than taking the path that I had last time out. This saved me a bit of time and I had already concluded that I wouldn’t see anything that I hadn’t last time out. As it happens I got a new view of the rather impressive looking Shillinglee House, which I had completely missed last time. In the field next to me was a rather surprising looking addition to the field of sheep – an ostrich strutting around! It looked like it had some serious attitude so I didn’t get too close!

At White’s Hill, I finally caught up with the SBP. When I looked at my watch I was rather surprised to see that I had already used half my time getting to this point so I knew I would have to put my skates on a bit to catch up some time! Luckily now I was on the official path, the going was rather easier and I didn’t have to constantly map read in order to navigate myself. The path followed a ridge of sorts between fields and woods mostly, although there was a brief interlude when I crossed an all-weather horse racing training gallops.I also met a man heading in the same direction as me with a very large dog that was straining at the leash.He looked rather annoyed to see me as I think we wanted to let the dog go running across the fields. Both he and I were relieved when we went our separate ways.

The next couple of miles were a very pleasant ramble along field edges and through pieces of woodland. The fungi, which had been such a feature of my autumn season of walks this year were starting to die off. Some of the trees still had leaves on, but mostly they were now bare as winter started to take hold. Eventually I reached the end of Durfold Wood again and passed a house where the dogs let loose in the grounds of an adjacent large house were barking their brains out at me. It was rather an irritating encounter especially as the dogs were very persistent and the grounds were quite large. Still, I guess the owners are unlikely to have any problem with burglars!

I skirted the rather odd little settlement at Shortlands Copse; a group of houses arranged like a mini housing estate that was strange in as much as it wasn’t connected to any other village. I did spot a small bungalow on the edge of the settlement that would be desirable for a single person to live in (as long as you got on with your neighbours that is!).

I crossed the main road ahead by a very attractive looking lodge house and headed out over the fields. This onward section of walk skipped between Sussex and Surrey, which meant that the signage wasn’t always terribly reliable. In fact when I got into the woods further ahead I had my worst navigational nightmare for some time, when I followed the signage and found myself walking along a path that I wasn’t convinced was what it purported to be. Very overgrown in places, it was not a pleasant experience. Added to that and the sunny weather that I had enjoyed thus far was now being replaced by some very overcast conditions and the day definitely began to lose its shine somewhat.

Eventually when I had managed to find my way once again I ended up walking along a well maintained track through the woods, which was rather more pleasurable. As I walked along I noticed a very low flying helicopter passing overhead. I didn’t take too much notice of it at the time, but a little further ahead when I came to the end of Hog Copse I passed a very large Dallas type ranch-house with the helicopter parked on the front lawn! Further down the garden I was also rather perturbed by a couple of cows that looked a bit unnatural, when I realised that they were in fact made of plastic. Maybe they were made by the same company that supplied Milton Keynes?

A bit further on and I reached Burberry Bridge. For me this signalled the end of the official part of my walk today. I would be heading back via the towpath of the Wey and Arun Canal, a walk I had previously taken in August 2009. Wandering along the towpath today was rather a different proposition from back then, with a chill wind in my face now that the sun had disappeared. The towpath was very muddy in places too, which wasn’t very pleasant walking. I did make some quick time though as the towpath is nice and flat and there was no problem with navigation.I wandered along for about two miles and thought at one stage that I might get a bit more sunshine as the clouds broke. However, what I did get as I wandered back through the woods to the car park was a dose of rain and it got very dark as I returned. I was extremely relieved to get back to the car after trudging through some very uninspiring woodland for the last couple of miles back.

This section of the Sussex Border Path was very pleasant but there were some navigational problems along the route. There was a lot of woodland walking, which although very pleasant, didn’t afford a great many views. It may have been better to tackle this section during the autumn or spring months when the woodland was at its best. Even the canal towpath section of the return route was a bit drab, although that was probably due in the main to the overcast weather that I had by now encountered.

Sussex Border Path Section 9 Temple of the Winds and Shillinglee

2011-12-09T21:12:00.018Z

I set out from home today on a bright sunny autumn morning on the south coast to head inland to the car park at Black Down, where I had ended my walk last time. As it was such a convenient car park it seemed a good idea to use it again. As I headed north of the Downs, my view of the world changed as I hit a fog bank almost immediately. The fog got worse as I headed northwards and I wondered about calling the day’s walking off altogether. However, the weather forecast had suggested that there would be sunshine later so I persevered on the basis that I might get lucky.

As I climbed up Black Down the clouds drifted away towards the top and I was met with brilliant sunshine at the car park itself. Of course far below was a blanket of white – always a slightly odd feeling, makes me think I am standing on an island in the sky! To the north of Black Down the blue sky and sunshine persisted although I could see that the cloud was starting to close in from the south, making for a short lived scene. I decided that I would head down towards the Temple of the Winds, at the southern end of the Black Down plateau. On the way the cloud started to drift in and the sunshine got more and more obscured as I headed south.

The atmosphere on top of Black Down was magical on this early morning and I was surprised by the number of people out early on this Sunday morning enjoying it. I met more than a dozen people heading down to the Temple of the Winds, unusual for a Sunday morning. The mist lingered around the tall Scots Pine trees and there were water droplets formed on just about everything from leaves to spiders webs.

It all made for a spooky kind of introduction to my day’s walking. At Temple of the Winds the view across the Weald that I should have had was completely obscured by white cloud and although I lingered for a few minutes to see if it might clear, it soon became obvious that it wouldn’t and so I headed down the southern slope of the hill. The Temple of the Winds sadly does not have anything left, other than a recently added stone seat at the point that Alfred Lord Tennyson used to admire the view.

Back in 1967 this tranquil place was the scene of an air crash when an Iberian Airways jet came down and killed all of those on board. There are few clues of the disaster now, but apparently at the time a large number of trees were taken out and there were localised fires across a wide area. Getting help up here at night-time when it happened must have been a nightmare, as there aren’t many ways to access this area other than on foot.

As I headed down the slope I admired the large crop of fungi that was devouring all the dead wood in the area. From the bracken covered slopes I then entered a dark tunnel like world as I descended through the yew tree belt. Eventually as I got to the bottom I passed by a large and rather idyllic looking house. My path continued around the garden before eventually coming upon a road.

As I descended the fog got thicker until I could see no more than about 50 metres ahead of me. This is not the type of weather conditions I am used to and although the effect of these conditions on the countryside was interesting, I nonetheless wanted to see some views and hoped that it would soon clear!

At Upper Diddlesford Farm I came across another of those huge collections of scrap farm vehicles that have become such a common feature of this walk. Unlike others I have come across this one looked as though some of the old machines were actually being stripped for parts as they were in various states of completeness. It made for a fascinating sight, especially in the gloom of the fog.

I made my way across fields to Northchapel, a village that I had passed through on my journey up here. There was no let up in the conditions and if anything the fog closed in even more. I had a little look at the Half Moon pub, a welcoming looking place that would surely have been a better place to spend the day than out in the fog! I took the opportunity to take a look at the interesting looking church of St Michael the Archangel at the heart of the village.Memories of the recent Remembrance Day service were obviously still fresh in the mind judging by the poppy memorial wreaths still looking in great condition on the war memorial outside the church. The churchyard looked quite spooky with a hint of sun trying to break its way through the cloud.

I headed north out of the village and soon came across a group of ramblers ahead of me. There is nothing I hate more than groups of ramblers when I’m out. Their incessant chatter and complete oblivion to their surroundings annoys me and as I passed them I put on a bit of speed to get some distance between them and me. This took some time, and somehow the still conditions seemed to ensure that their voices carried a long way. Eventually I did lose them though as they took a different turn at Frith Hill. My relief was palpable! It also gave me the opportunity to have a peer at the marvellous house at Frith Hill and the topiary chickens that had been clipped (at least I think that is what they were!).

I headed down towards what looked to be a fairly large body of water called The Lake. However, when I got there my view of the water was rather more distant than I imagined. Judging by the heavily engineered bridges, I guessed that this was at one time a landscaped park although what was left could only be described as faded beauty.As I peered through the fog to see if I could see anything of the lake I got the surprise of my life as this small azure and shimmery blue bird passed underneath the bridge at breakneck speed. I could only assume that it was a kingfisher even though I didn’t get a very close look. Its fabulous colour stuck out on such a gloomy day.

A little further on and my eyes were drawn to a shaggy ink cap fungus growing under the bushes. Its distinctive shape and textures were fascinating, although taking a picture of it proved very tricky due to its position & I cursed the fact that I hadn’t brought my little tripod. By now it was clear that the fog wasn’t going to lift and I took the decision to cut short my day’s walking. I passed by the rather murky looking Deer Tower, a folly-like residence that looked rather deserted and onwards to Shillinglee Park. Many of the original buildings here had been turned into residences for the well-heeled, completely altering the character of what must once have been a country estate.

In order to reduce the amount of road walking I needed to do, I took a big loop around Walk Copse and the North Ponds, crossing the road that passed between the upper and lower pond. I suspect that these were once hammer ponds for the iron industry that operated in this area 250 years ago. Now the only activity that exists is fishing for the local angling society. There were actually quite a few about that day – possibly fog suits them?

I eventually made it to the Sussex Border Path at last when I reached White’s Hill. By now the fog was so thick that I could barely see a thing. The entire walk back along the official route was almost completely lost on me as I focused my attention on ensuring that I had my navigation right. From what I could see of the early part of the walk I wan’t sure I was missing a great deal as the path wandered along the side of bare looking fields.

I passed through a couple of sections of damp woodland, where I did come upon a large fairy ring of fungi, which was quite impressive. Eventually though I came to the A283 at the summit of the fabulously named Cripplecrutch Hill. Crossing the road was no easy matter though. Not only was it really busy but I couldn’t see very far in front of me so it was a bit frightening. Eventually after a few minutes a welcome lull came and I crossed safely and disappeared into the gloomy woodlands opposite. Here I followed a lane that had the distinct look of a road that didn’t quite make it. Even the map suggested that might be the case.

I came out at Gospel Green, where I had to take Jay’s Lane. This final section seemed interminable. I think the walking through muddy fields had taken its toll and I was glad that I had kept the walk fairly short today. The trudge along the lane was quite tough as it regained the altitude that I had lost coming down off Black Down earlier in the day. It was a slow and steady climb – the worst sort at the end of a day’s walking!

I can’t say that I would enjoy walking in conditions like these very often for I got really frustrated at not being able to see anything. However, some of the landscapes had extra interest because of the cloud, especially the trees on Black Down, which had a really ghostly feel. The churchyard at Northchapel was also very atmospheric. It was an experience that I enjoyed to a point, but not one I would like on a regular basis. Irritatingly when I got back to Worthing it was bright sunshine and had been all day!

Sussex Border Path Section 8 Black Down and Haslemere

2011-11-11T22:25:00.019Z

Autumn has worn on and I was eager to get one more early morning visit to the Sussex Border Path before darkness sets in and no longer provides me with the advantage of extra daylight hours without disrupting too much of my day. I got up for my eighth tour around the Sussex Border Path while it still seemed as if it were the middle of the night!

I arrived at Black Down car park a lot earlier than it suggested that it would be open and so I was pleased to see that the gate was open at the National Trust Car Park. I had arrived just before sunrise and at the crack of dawn. The light suggested that we would be in for a really special day and certainly the atmosphere, slight mist hanging around and oranges and purples made for a sight that was really worth getting up early for!

I soon discovered the down side of such an early start when I descended from the fabulous viewpoint over the Weald and Downs to the south. My path went down through some thick woodland, which was so dark it felt like it was still night time! Such was the speed of the advancing light though that by the time I got to the bottom and emerged from the wood, the darkness had largely disappeared from the air and daylight was properly underway. By the time I reached Upper Roundhurst Farm I could also see the sun starting to make an appearance through the trees, setting off the warm tones of the rather impressive sandstone built farmhouse.

I hooked a left and climbed steadily along the tree lined road, hoping that I would get a proper look at the sun. I didn’t have long to wait luckily as I soon found a gateway from where to admire the blood red ball of a sun rising somewhere over Gatwick Airport to the east of me. All across the valleys in front was low lying mist, adding to the autumnal atmosphere. I left the Sussex Border Path a little further on, taking my route to get to the beginning of today’s section of the ‘official’ path. My route took me along fields and through stretches of woodland heading towards the south of Haslemere.To me left, as it would be for much of the way was the sandy bulk of Black Down, surprisingly the highest point of Sussex (and not anywhere on the South Downs as most people would think).

All the way autumn was properly underway and although it was a beautiful day, there was no hint of the Indian Summer conditions that I had enjoyed on my trip to the Isle of Portland only three weeks earlier. In fact the colours on the trees were properly changing and pine cones and various fruit including crab apples were showing signs of being shed at any hint of wind!

Eventually I reached the rather attractive looking High Barn Farm, where one of the outlying cottages had a rather novel looking and luxurious tree house in their back garden. A lucky set of children I thought! I was also surprised to find a foot stool blocking my way, of the type a librarian might use. As abandoned vehicles go, it was probably one of the more unusual I had come across!

I soon plunged back into woodland and was heartwarmed to see a nice tribute to a conservation volunteer named Bernard Farquharson, a Scot by birth but who had loved and contributed so much to the area that his friends and colleagues had marked his passing in 1995. I was supposed to cross what looked like a couple of hammer ponds in this wood, but they were rather lost in the undergrowth and I am not sure that they had any water in them whatsoever.The woodland path soon gave way to another road and I followed this all the way into the outskirts of Haslemere. I merely flirted with the town though, taking a route over the rather affluent looking Haste Hill. This is an area of sumptuous housing and big iron fences and gateways.

This flirtation with Haslemere din’t last long and I descended down quite a steep hill to Stedlands Farm. The character of the walk changed now to one that was more familiar from the last leg – thick woodland and areas of heath in between. I negotiated my way around another hammer pond and eventually up Fernden Hill. The countryside looked like a manicured piece of parkland for a large manor house, although I couldn’t find one on my map. I eventually concluded that the house may have been usurped by a rather ugly block of flats that would be more at home on a university campus. Luckily the path didn’t give me a very clear view close up, although I had seen the block from a distance across the fields about two miles.

I reached the main road at Kingsley Green and was rather surprised by the car I had to wait for in order to cross the road – it was an Austin 7! I crossed to the attractive village, arranged around a small village green. I was particularly intrigued by the small garage that had a clock tower on the top – not sure what function this once would have been; a blacksmith maybe? The piece de resistance though was the red telephone box, which was surrounded by sunflowers!

I pushed on up the road that I had travelled to park the last time I was up this way, hoping that I wouldn’t meet any traffic on the way. The road was so narrow that there was almost no room for a pedestrian to be and I was thankful that I didn’t need to put this to the test! I was pleased to head off across Marley Common, passing a rather attractive lodge house as I did so. This little corner of common land the link to the last piece of Sussex Border Path and I picked up the route once again.My attention wandered across the common to a large black and white beast in the distance. I genuinely didn’t know what it was as it looked a bit woolly for a cow, even though it was the right size.When I got close I discovered it was a cow!Helpfully there was a sign next to it saying that the National Trust was grazing Belted Galloway Cattle here to try and maintain the heathland without it running to scrub.

I dropped off the common back to the main road via a very steep path and was pleased not to have to wait too long to get across. I headed along the small valley that I had been along earlier in the day, meeting the path I had passed in the opposite direction about an hour previously. For the short stretch that I retraced my steps I couldn’t help be surprised by the difference walking in the opposite direction made – it looked like completely different countryside!

Back at Stedlands Farm I headed off in a different direction, heading towards the very attractive Valewood Farmhouse. I’m no expert on the age of buildings but judging ny the style I am guessing this might be as old as Tudor? The house wasn’t the only relic – there was an old fashioned tractor left to rot in the front garden! I was so taken with the farmhouse that I have to confess that I paid insufficient attention to my route and continued along the country estate road enjoying my surroundings. I had walked a good half mile before checking the map again and to my horror discovered that I was going the wrong way! Fortunately I corrected myself but had to take a pretty steep path in order to do so. I managed to connect back with the official route at Chase Wood. It wasn’t all bad – doing this enabled me to get some really good views across this parkland type countryside.

A little further on and the mood of the walk changed considerably as I entered the sandy environment of Black Down. I was really pleased that I had left this until the end of the walk for by now all the clouds had blown away and the sun was lovely and warm, showing off the Scots Pines at their finest. I had been up here once before some years ago, but what I really found remarkable is that it is quite unlike any other part of Sussex that I know. It is like a small patch of the New Forest transported fifty or so miles away and dropped on an unsuspecting part of the world!

The only aspect of the last stretch of the walk that I didn’t enjoy was the fact that I felt a bit turned around due to the plethora of paths, few of which appeared to be marked on the map. It didn’t matter as far as the official walk was concerned for the Border Path appears to follow the biggest of the paths. Any chance of me looking around further were rather stymied by this little problem though. Maybe I’ll have another bash on the next leg of the walk?

By now it was 11am and I had made the most of the day already! As the day got warmer it was starting to attract walkers and the car park at Black Down was pretty busy when I got back! I headed over to the viewpoint that I had enjoyed at sunrise, but by now the view southwards was rather obscured by the very bright sunlight. I didn’t hang around, feeling happy that I had had an early start and enjoyed the countryside largely to myself. Now it would be the turn of the crowds!

South West Coast Path Section 52 The Isle of Portland

2011-10-25T17:06:00.029+01:00

After the hors d’ouevre of the Rodwell Trail I was quite excited about the main course of the day, which was to circumnavigate the mysterious Isle of Portland. An earlier trip to the Isle of Portland some years ago did not leave an especially good impression and I was rather keen to exorcise that memory by exploring the coast, which from a distance looked far more promising than the interior.

The Isle of Portland is not a true island at all these days, being connected to the mainland by Chesil Beach and the A354, which is the only road on and off the island. Officially the South West Coast Path crosses over to the island along this causeway too, but I could see no merit in subjecting myself to this rather boring couple of miles of walking alongside the road.

Instead I parked at the top of the hill above the town of Fortuneswell and devised a route that would allow me to circumnavigate the island using the official route. It was pleasing to see that this car park was free and with plenty of room on this by now superb day. In fact I had to pinch myself to remind me that it was now October, so warm and benign were the conditions. Sadly the air wasn’t quite as clear as I would have hoped, and long distance views were impossible. A pity, for I imagined I would be able to see Devon and the Isle of Wight from up here.

Iwalked first along the crest of Verne Hill where I could gaze across the fabulous view of Chesil Beach and Weymouth. This stupendous view is surely one of the finest in all of England and I was surprised that the car park wasn’t more full. As I left the car park behind, I crossed what appeared to be a railway bridge. The railway below was no ordinary trackbed though as it sloped steeply away from my position. I remembered that Julia Bradbury had explored some industrial railways on the island as part of her ‘Railway Walks’ series a couple of years ago and immediately recognised this to be one of those.The trucks would have been pulled up and down these incline railways using ropes and pulleys.They must have been quite the sight when in operation!

At the end of the road I took a path that wound its way around the perimeter wall of what is now a prison, although most of the buildings are hidden behind a huge perimeter wall hinting that the building once had military significance. The walls were covered in cotoneaster, an invasive plant that seems to be thriving here on Portland. From one Victorian engineering structure to a very different one as I got myself on to a different part of the former railway that had the inclines admired earlier. This made for nice easy going, even when faced with the steep incline down into Castletown on the banks of Portland Harbour.

As I descended down the incline much of the investment associated with bringing the London 2012 sailing events came into sight. Some very large apartments had been built on the site of some of the naval buildings, although interestingly one of the blocks appeared to have been abandoned part way through construction.Any trace of the freight yard that would once have existed at the bottom of the incline has long since been obliterated by history and the expansion in the Royal Navy yards that occupied this part of Portland Harbour during theCold War. Now the Royal Navy has moved out and commercial buildings are filling the void.

Before moving on I took a look at Portland Castle, almost hidden in the trees off the road. A quiet spot now, but its presence reminds us of the strategic need for this kind of defence in years gone by. A group of giggly girls had got together for what looked like the last hurrah of summer. Despite the unseasonably warm weather Istill thought they were very brave in considering swimming in the harbour waters.

I pushed on along the harbour road to where the A354 finally enters the island at the northern end of Fortuneswell. From here I started the walk down the western side of the island, heading up on to the top of Chesil Beach for its last half mile or so before it runs into the cliffs of Portland.This was the first time I had been on to the top of the beach since its embryonic beginnings at the western end, two walking days further back along the coast.As I looked along the line of shingle I thanked my lucky stars that the coast path doesn’t even attempt to use this as its route. To do so would be mind-numbingly boring and extraordinarily hard work. I sense that only the fool hardy or masochistic would attempt such a route, while everyone else would do the sensible thing and boycott it entirely.

I briefly walked along the promenade looking for a refreshment stop and was pleased to see that there was a café at the far end. I was less pleased by the cost of the cold can that I purchased and even less pleased by the fact that they appeared to have no water available to buy. They were missing a serious trick here in my opinion, especially as the beach below was filling up with scuba divers and their associated companions. Although the café looked the part, I wasn’t sure whether they had mentally already wound down for the winter…

Anyhow, feeling somewhat refreshed I plodded my way back up the steep hill that I had only recently descended on the other side of the island. I took it slow and steady to enable me to enjoy the changing view as I climbed. At the top I paused for a minute to enjoy this view for the last time before my perspective was to change. At the topof the hill I met with what was once the narrow road that accessed the hinterland of the island.It has now been widened and moved away from the cliff edge slightly, enabling some public art depicting various reminders of the quarry industry to be installed. Portland Stone has been prized for many years and was used in the construction of St Paul’s Cathedral, the UN building and the Cenotaph among many other prestigious buildings. Reminders of the quarrying are ever present throughout the island and the next couple of miles in particular provide a good study of the impact made by quarrying on the landscape.

The path continued along the top of the enormous cliffs for the next mile or so, with breathtaking views across Chesil Beach and the azure sea below. I was astonished at the colour of the sea, which wasn’t too dissimilar with the parts of the Mediterranean I have seen. On the shore side of the path were lots of quarrying reminders, with half cut blocks discarded and various engineering features still in place to help get the stones out. It made for a fascinating section of walk, and for me probably the best section of the entire day.

At Blacknor the path just about manages to skirt around the side of a military installation and the views across Chesil are suddenly replaced with views down towards Portland Bill and its lighthouses, the southern tip of the island. The scenery changed somewhat too, with the cliffs getting less dramatic all the way as I headed south. The walk became more open too with less quarrying activity. The interior of the island cannot be called picturesque, for most of the visible buildings are rather ugly looking ex military and local authority housing. Although a gloriously sunny day, I could imagine how depressing these places must be on those gloomy cold and grey winter days – grim!

Still, progress was very quick along this section of coast, partly because I was heading slightly downhill the whole time. The path was undoubtedly popular, although some of the walkers were less than considerate towards their fellow users. One family in particular were paying no attention to their dog, who was yapping at all who passed and then decided it would terrorise a group of horse riders for daring to amble slowly past. The reaction from the owner/ keeper? Nothing at all…

As I approached the very ugly looking business park at the edge of Eastnor my way was blocked by an animal of a very different nature – one of the largest caterpillars I had ever seen! This big hairy beast was shuffling across the path in front of me. Sadly I didn’t know what kind it was, although I suspect it was a tiger moth of some sort given its resemblance to those I have seen in books. Portland has a few species that do not appear anywhere else due to the geographical nature of its location. I did think I might have struck gold and found a rare species, but I couldn’t be sure…

A little further on and I passed the first of three lighthouses that occupy Portland Bill. This first one is now converted to a very desirable looking house and is neighboured with a National Coastwatch Foundation lookout tower. I should imagine this is one of the better gigs for a Coastwatch Volunteer as the view must be stupendous on a good day. Ahead of my the present lighthouse was obviously the honeypot that most visitors had headed for today. The car park was stuffed and all around the ‘Bill’ were hundreds of people milling about enjoying the day.

After looking around the outside the lighthouse (which was now closed for winter!), I popped into the café to stock up on drink. The place was absolutely heaving, with dozens of plates of fish and chips being dished up to what must have been an unusually busy October Sunday. I trust the owners had stocked up ahead of time, for there didn’t seem to be any shortage of food.

The onward part of coast was initially a strange mixture of tourism, industry relics from quarrying times and the odd bit of fishing. Yet the mixture of activities seemed quite natural altogether somehow. Over by the third of the lighthouses there was quite a large collection of beach huts. Most appeared to be boarded up for winter now, but there were quite a few that had been opened up again for the day. I suspect that many of the owners hadn’t dreamed of such a day when they shut up a few weeks earlier.I was interested to see that one of the huts was for sale as I passed. It had clearly seen better days (in fact I pulled down a garden shed at home that was in better shape), and yet the owners wanted £20,000 – yikes! I guess it was all about location, location, location!

Eventually I reached the end of the tourist bit, rather more suddenly than I could have expected. The path then entered an old quarry, which was a bit of a moonscape. I am guessing that all the best quality had been removed for the next few hundred metres was a bit of a desert in terms of vegetation and ecology – even the grass was having a hard time growing! There was still a fair amount of activity going on though, with canoeists offshore exploring the coastline, a diving vessel speeding back round I assume to the beach where I had seen the rest of them before and a bunch of rock climbers practising on some of the steep cliffs.I was pleased to see so much human activity as I was slightly uncomfortable at how bleak the landscape had become, courtesy of our forefathers. It was a relief to head up out of the quarry, although having to walk along the main road for a short distance wasn’t quite what I had in mind for an escape.

Fortunately the road walking wasn’t far and I was soon heading along a twisting and turning section of path down into Church Ope Cove. This fabulous little cove was not what I was expecting after traversing the quarry.It reminded me of some of the Cornwall stretches of the Coast Path, as the little cove was overlooked by the ruin of Rufus Castle, said to have been built for William II (William Rufus). Not much is left of the keep now, for much of it has fallen prey to coastal erosion.Far below the castle, the cove is flanked by lots of beach huts and although the beach is still popular it is sadly not made of sand any longer as it was another casualty of the quarrying industry, with much of the surface now covered by quarrying debris. Yet, despite that nature is taking charge again and the stones are already turning into rounded pebbles!

Having descended almost down to sea level at Church Ope Cove, I faced a rather steep climb up to the base of the castle keep. Having satisfied myself that there was little more to see of the castle up close I continued on my way, soon re-acquainting myself with the railway line that I had followed earlier today on the Rodwell Trail. A short section is available to walk on the Isle of Portland too, as it made its final journey into Easton. I was so taken with the railway line and the rock climbers practising their skills along the former cutting that I missed the fact that I was supposed to climb higher up above the trackbed! No matter, for I found a way up a little further along, although I had to do my best impression of a mountain goat in order to reunite with the official path!

At the top of the cliff I was soon aware that I had regained the height that I had on the other side of the island for far below me was the breakwater coming into view. The path continued a course around yet another prison, this time a young offenders institute, but no less formidable looking. I guess Victorian prisoners were left in no doubt about their freedom being taken away! The land below the cliff was clearly used by the military in recent times, with a prominent rifle range in view but now rapidly becoming overgrown due to its lack of use.

Just beyond the prison I passed what could be forgiven for being just another random old shed. This was however the engine shed for the locomotives that worked the quarries in this area. A very noticeable incline leads down towards the port and I should imagine was once a hive of industrial activity. Today the rails are gone and replaced by a road, but not too much imagination is needed to guess what it once looked like. Of course it helped that there were a few pictures showing how things used to look on the side of the old shed.

By now I was really thinking about my return to the car and rather than retrace my steps along the same road that I had taken earlier in the day, I took a path leading round yet another quarry (this one still operating!) to reunite with the incline that I had found at the outset of the walk. By now the view had changed a bit as the sun was a little higher in the sky and the shadows were much reduced. I was pleased to see that the bush at the top of the incline attracted so many butterflies, although the numerous red admirals seemed a bit shier than I was used to. I tried in vain to get some decent shots before eventually giving up. Of course the fact that I had a two hour drive home helped focus the mind a bit!

All in all this was a superb walk – helped of course by the unseasonably warm and sunny weather. Despite not usually liking crowds when I am out, I did really appreciate watching what everyone else was doing. Seeing so many different activities going on put the Isle of Portland into a completely new perspective. Although the settled parts of the island don’t do its natural beauty justice, the coastline is dramatic and definitely worth a look – don’t be tempted to by-pass this section when heading east!

The Rodwell Trail

2011-10-14T21:51:00.020+01:00

When I completed my last outing on the Dorset stretch of the South West Coast Path I walked along a short stretch of The Rodwell Trail, a fairly short but extremely well used former railway line that once connected Weymouth with the Isle of Portland. It is a railway trail made famous by Julia Bradbury in her series on Railway Walks shown on BBC TV a few years ago. Given that the next stage of the coast path around the Isle of Portland is fairly short I took the opportunity of being in the area to take a look at The Rodwell Trail at the same time.

The official trail runs from Ferrybridge to the town centre in Weymouth, following the former railway for most of its length, a remarkable achievement given that it passes through an almost entirely urban area. Further sections of the trail can be walked unofficially along the causeway that linked the Isle of Portland and a short stretch on the island itself. I restricted myself to the official route, principally because I wanted to do this trail by bike and the unofficial sections are not bike friendly.

The railway from Weymouth to Portland (Easton) opened in 1865 after a fairly complicated and convoluted construction involving three separate companies and some significant engineering work. Its passenger services were withdrawn as early as 1952, principally because of competition with buses. Its freight purpose to carry away quarried stone gave the line a slightly longer life span but it was completely closed in 1965. The line at the northern end of the Isle of Portland was subsumed within the naval base that once existed there (and which closed in 1996) and a few of the bridges were removed, but otherwise the course of the line is remarkably intact.

As it was early in the morning I managed to find myself a parking space at the southern end of the trail at Ferrybridge (I wouldn’t mind betting that I would have struggled at any time other than 8am on a Sunday morning!). From the missing bridge across The Fleet the line is surfaced with tarmac and takes a fairly steady uphill gradient. With the salty air and frequent wet weather this must have been quite a struggle for some of the trains heading into Weymouth. For me on my bike it was not too bad as the surface was nice and smooth and apart from a few dog walkers there weren’t many people about to get in the way of my progress.

Shortly after starting I passed the former Whitehead Torpedo Factory. The last torpedoes were built here in 1966 but the factory continued to produce a variety of engineering products until its final closure in 1994. The factory buildings were demolished in 1997 to make way for the housing development that now abuts the Trail.

Shortly after I reached the overgrown platform of Wyke Regis halt. This was the first of several halts opened in 1909 to try and increase patronage of the line. It, like all the other halts opened at the same time, was short-lived remaining open only until 1952. Yet, most of the single line platform remains in place, complete with sign advising of its existence. I think this was added as a result of a Heritage Lottery grant which enabled the trail to be put on an official footing. As I looked at the platform with its bramble bush covering I couldn’t help think how inconvenient its location was, buried at the bottom of a deep cutting away from the built up area for which the station was supposed to serve. I wonder how successful it was as a station?

Beyond Wyke Regis and the line emerged from the cutting to show some remarkable views across to Sandsfoot Castle, Weymouth Harbour and the Purbeck Coast beyond. This reprised the section of route that I walked as part of the South West Coast Path earlier in the year, but it was interesting to see how different it all looked with foliage on all the trees and bushes. It was a very pleasant cycle ride along this section, although if I’m honest the views kept me from cycling more than a walking pace! For an October day the weather was unusually clear bright and hot – in fact it felt more like an August day.Already at this early hour I was starting to feel the heat of the day.

At Sandsfoot Castle the South West Coast Path left the trail and I continued along the section of trail that I had not previously explored. Almost immediately I came to a fragment of another former halt, which had been provided to serve the nearby castle ruin. This had an even shorter life span than Wyke Regis, lasting only from opening in 1932 for the remaining 20 years of the life of the line. All that remains is part of the old wooden platform that was provided for the expected tourist traffic, although I am guessing that this did not materialise.

The climbing continued on to Buxton Road bridge, a handsome three arch bridge over the railway that appears to have lost nothing of its dignity since the closure of the railway. This marked a turning point in the character of the railway as it continued onward through a deep tree covered cutting that was nevertheless not hemmed in feeling. I am guessing that The Friends of Rodwell Trail, a group of volunteers that look after the line see to it that it does not become overgrown. At the far end of this attractive cutting was the station of Rodwell.

Rodwell Station was a ‘proper’ station, having been opened with the rest of the branch in 1870. Even in closure and with most of the infrastructure long since removed it still has the feel of a more important station. For a start there are two platforms of pretty decent length and at the Weymouth end is the short (58 yard) Wyke Tunnel. The passing loop at Rodwell was added in 1909 as part of the drive to attract more passengers. The station was also bombed during the war but repaired and re-opened for its few remaining years of service.

It was slightly disappointing to see that Wyke Road tunnel was being repaired and the passage through was via a boarded off section of path through the middle. Hopefully the work will prove to help the old structure last a bit longer. At the other side of the tunnel it was quite clear that I had now reached the highest point on the line, for the path started dropping away surprisingly steeply. This must have been quite a challenge for the small engines plying this route for most of its existence. For me it was a breeze now and the views soon opened up across to Weymouth Harbour. The Trail was now truly a green lung through the urban development that was probably built around the same time as the line judging by the appearance of the houses.

On the side of the trail some way down the hill is another reminder that Weymouth was very much in the front line during World War II. A former gun emplacement has been restored and now acts as a viewing point across the inland part of Weymouth (ie away from the harbour). Just after this and the tarmac suddenly runs out as the former Newstead Bridge, a rather large structure that caused traffic congestion underneath it (on account of it being so narrow), has now been removed, forcing the walker/ cyclist to descend down a pretty steep path down the side of the embankment to road level. The road was not too busy of course on account of it being early Sunday morning, but it was a pain nonetheless, especially having to climb the other side, which was just as steep! Apparently, if new stories are to be believed, a new span is to be provided here so that walkers and cyclists no longer have to undertake this rather awkward manoeuvre.

The remaining part of the trail was very short, with Westham halt soon creeping up on me. This small station still has a platform remaining but did not last very long as it was one of the 1909 additions. From here the line would once have crossed the busy road at what is now the end of the trail via a level crossing and then crossed Radipole Lake to reach the end of the line at Melcombe Regis. No trace of the line exists from here. Melcombe Regis station also officially succumbed to closure along with the rest of the line in 1952, although unofficially it was used as a summer relief station until 1959. All trace of the station has now vanished under the inevitable retail park and would once have been somewhere near what is now MacDonalds.

I turned tail at Westham Halt to return back to Ferrybridge. As with so many of these closed lines I tried to picture in my minds eye what this one must have been like to travel on. I am guessing that if it could have clung on another 20 years or so it would have made for a spectacular preserved railway. Nonetheless it is amazing that so much of the trackbed has survived being redeveloped and as a railway trail it really has everything, possibly one of the finest I have followed even for such a short distance. It is highly recommended and although I didn’t do so this time, I could see the appeal in continuing onward to Portland. As it happens I did walk stretches of the onward trail, albeit by doing the South West Coast Path. More about that in the next report.

Sussex Border Path Section 7 Linchmere and Marley Common

2011-10-06T13:08:00.020+01:00

More of the same please! After entering the pine forests of the sandstone ridge that dominates the north western part of Sussex on the last section, today was very much a continuation of the same theme. I parked today in the small car park at the top of Marley Common, south west of Haslemere. I am not sure it was the one marked on the map but it served its purpose nonetheless. As I was at the end of the section of Sussex Border Path that I wanted to do today I did the return loop first. This would largely take me along the foot of the ridge through various sections of woodland and occasionally into open fields before winding up at Milland House, where I had passed last time out. From here my route would take me back along the officialwalk from the Black Fox at the top of the ridge – a rather different world as I was to discover!

Sadly the sunshine that had accompanied me all the way up into Surrey disappeared behind some very thick cloud and I was thankful therefore that I would largely be walking in woodland to begin with, where overhead conditions didn’t affect my pictures so much. This thickly wooded fringe of Sussex earns its living as became abundantly clear quite quickly. Much of the woodland was being actively coppiced and the floor was thick with the prickly shells of sweet chestnuts. Most of those scattered around were too small to be worthwhile though.

The first curiosity I came across was a very secluded pond at the bottom of the ridge. Its water was a strange turquoise colour, although it was very clear and full of weed so whatever caused the colour was clearly not doing much harm? All around was silent with no birdsong and not even a ripple on the surface of the water. It was certainly a quiet place to meditate!

The onward track became a little monotonous as for the next mile or so I headed through thick woodland, broken up only by a large clear cut section that had been removed for coppicing. A small woodland workshop had turned most of the harvested wood into fence posts. I gather that the people that would once have carried out this kind of work were known as ‘bodgers’.As they only did part of the job of turning wood into finished articles, this term has been translated into common English as a job that is serviceable but only borne of necessity (not a botch – which is a total failure). A little further on was a section of woodland that I suspect was harvested last year, since it had plenty of fresh new growth.

There were a few odd sights through the woods as the seasons are now on the turn. A few rhododendron flowers were hanging on, trying to inject a bit of colour into woodland that was starting to turn from green to brown. I found the fact that some branches on trees had leaves that were still as good as new while others had completely died and were probably only a few days away from dropping off. Most of all though it was the various types of fungi that really fascinated me. Until the last couple of years I haven’t been that interested in fungi, but various woodland walks taken recently have made me change that view.

Certainly today I would find lots of different types on my walk, from the bright red spotty fly agaric (seen in all Disney films) to the rather understated brown ones. I also kept a lookout for interesting tree roots as the path followed a sunken course through the woods. I saw at least one that looked rather like a face and I couldn’t help thinking that it was sights like this that made folk think that there were spirits in the woods.

Eventually I came out into open countryside briefly at Linchmere Marsh. I negotiated my way around some fine looking houses and crossed a small road before entering more woodland, this time via a rather mysterious looking drive. I wasn’t quite sure of what kind of house I would find at the far end, but was rather surprised at how little it was! It did have the most marvellous views across the surrounding woods, courtesy of a small break in the forest. The owners were floating about and I got the impression they didn’t want me to linger too long as they asked me whether I was lost in a thinly disguised but friendly manner.I did have the opportunity to admire their vintage Jaguar and tractor parked behind the house before plunging into more woodland.

The next part had some particularly fine fungi specimens and some gnarled old yew trees that were resplendent with red berries. I don’t know why but my little camera really struggles with decent pictures of these – a real pity as I would like to get a decent shot one of these days. I was curious to see that many of the fungi appeared to have bite marks taken out of them. Surely they aren’t on the menu of many animals?

Eventually I reached the edge of Hollycombe Mueseum. This is an open air steam museum not just dedicated to trains, but all things steam, even fairground rides! I’ve not visited, but one day I must. Seeing some signals set to clear in the distance was the only clue that I was in fact passing this place, although I am sure on operating days it is possible to see the steam engines in action. A couple of old National Carrier lorry trailers parked up weren’t the best advert from this corner of the museum though.

I dropped down through a sunken lane and eventually came upon a road where I turned right. What followed was a rather unpleasant mile-long walk along the surprisingly busy country road. As I passed by Hollycombe Hanger I came upon a rather odd well looking structure. There was some water in the depths of the blackness but guarding the entrance was a very large spider that had used it as a convenient place for its web. I didn’t look further as I didn’t want to disturb the poor chap.

I was relieved to turn off the main road and on to a much quieter country lane. The hedgerow alongside me was full of bees turning their attentions to the bounty of fruit on offer rather than the flowers from earlier in the summer. Fruits were aplenty too, from the usual blackberries to the colourful honeysuckle berries, rosehips and hawthorn berries. I even saw a speckled wood butterfly but it wasn’t keen to play ball with me, fluttering off extremely quickly but hanging around as if to tease me!

I passed through the large and extensive Home Farm and saw some of the few people I encountered all day in the shape of a building crew working on one of the buildings. Shortly after and it was back into the woods. I must admit that I was now becoming a little bit disorientated. Maybe I should have taken advantage of a pair of glasses that I found hanging over an adjacent stretch of fencing?

Eventually I emerged from the woods by Milland Place, a rather gloomy looking house that looked rather deserted. The house has been covered in pebble dashing, which seemed rather out of place for a building of that size and style. A pair of very large iron gates deterred anyone from even thinking that a closer look would be possible! The estate was rather cut off from the outside world by a very high wall that surrounded it, and at the end of the perimeter track that I followed were a couple of enormous gateposts that announced its entrance.

By now the sunshine that had graced the day had disappeared once again and all around were grey clouds. It was a shame that I couldn’t have had just a little more sunshine, for I had now reunited with the Sussex Border Path and had a return trip to the car along the official route. I passed initially through Liphook Golf Course, which for a non golfer like me looks like a very pleasant place to spend the day in among its heathland setting.The path through the golf course and onward is along what looks like a former road that somehow didn’t quite make it into the modern age. A proto-A3 maybe? It passed through an estate of gated properties and houses with huge entrance gates and big fences. It wasn’t exciting but did enable me to make some quick progress.

Eventually I reached a road junction, where I got a reminder of how close to the Sussex Border the path actually gets. Almost within touching distance was a sign proclaiming a welcome to Hampshire. I kept straight on, following a route also shared by the Lipchis and Serpent Trails, surely future walking expeditions? I splite from those routes fairly quickly as I headed on a northerly course while they headed south. For me the route continued across Stanley Common, a beautiful heather clad piece of heathland marked with the odd stretch of pine forest. As with a lot of sections of today’s route, the woods provided a navigational challenge although to be fair I was conscious of keeping my wits about me and so didn’t go wrong.

I reached another road that led to the small village of Linchmere. Rather than continue on the route I dived into the centre of the village to take a look at the church. It was rather different than I imagined, with a small spire and distinctive clock. I was given rather a dirty look by a woman busying herself with bedecking the nave with flowers. I took the hint and continued on my way.

In truth the last couple of miles of today’s walk were rather uninspiring. I was rather glad that I had taken the outward route that I had today, for it was rather more interesting than this stretch of the Border Path. I’m not sure if that had to do with the weather, which by now was rather overcast and dull. It may also have had to do with the fact that I was anxious to finish the day. Anyhow I got back to the car on Marley Common about half an hour after visiting the church feeling quite satisfied with my day’s work. The next section takes me to the highest point in Sussex, a milestone in itself!

Sussex Border Path Section 6 Rake and The Black Fox

2011-09-17T20:31:00.020+01:00

My 6^th outing on the Sussex Border Path took me back to the rather convenient car park that I had found at Durford Heath. Rather than an early morning expedition, the weather forecast dictated that this would be a late afternoon/ early evening trip. In fact the weather in the morning was pretty foul and it was rather a leapof faith on my part that I went at all. However, the rain stopped about half way to Midhurst and a small break in the cloud ahead gave me some reassurance even though the air was thick with moisture.

When I finally got going from Durford Heath I was rather glad that I was walking through the sandy heath and pine forests of this corner of north west Sussex, for it did reduce the amount of mud that I had to trawl through. The first half mile was down rather a narrow lane with steep sides. Although the rain had stopped there were some rather large drops of water that gave me something of a wetting, especially every so often when a gust of wind blew. There was no doubt about it – it was far from the usual conditions I like to walk in!

I turned left off the road withsome relief, having been passed by only two cars on the half mile section. It was not a pleasant encounter on either occasion and I was pleased that it hadn’t happened more often. The path through the woods felt like an ancient trackway that had managed to stay a track rather than be turned into a country road. It was pleasant walking through the forest and the canopy of trees rather shielded the fact that it was quite cloudy above me. I also caught up with some fellow walkers which rather surprised me so soon after the wet weather had passed.However, when I approached it was clear that they weren’t seasoned walkers as they had completely unsuitable footwear for the wet forest conditions. I smiled sweetly and inwardly wished them luck picking their way through the mud and puddles with their canvas shoes on…

I eventually reached the first settlement of the day, the village of Rake. People were now emerging from their houses and into their gardens now that there was a hint of sunshine. Hedge trimming and snipping of dead plants seemed to be the order of the day now that the end of summer was fast approaching. I crossed over the former A3 trunk road, now by-passed some distance to the north.Although now very quiet it was obvious that this was a very busy road in its former life, for it was built with a much better specification than its current status as a ‘B’ road would suggest. I passed the Flying Bull pub, which was probably originally a coaching inn with a rather less silly name. From here I faced just over a mile of road walking, which wasn’t great but at least the road was relatively quiet.

Just past Brewells Farm I was rather alarmed to find a dog running helter-skelter towards me. It didn’t stop when it reached me luckily but kept on going seemingly at 100mph. I wondered where it was off to in such a hurry? A few minutes later it became clear when I passed the owner grumbling that the dog had chased after a vehicle up ahead thinking that it should be on board! By now the sun was properly out and in the hedgerows blackberries and elderberries were dripping with water, while the bushes they hung on groaned with all the extra weight of their fruit and rain.

I passed over an obviously rebuilt railway bridge (it had very shiny new bricks, although the design was far from modern) and passed the small hamlet of Langley. From this point the character of the walk changed again. I had now entered a heathland environment and the path continued along the side of a pine woodland with views out across what was a surprisingly wild piece of countryside. The area to the north of here is Weavers Down, partially occupied by the military. The rest looks like a chunk of the New Forest dropped into this part of north-west Sussex. I am guessing that it is agriculturally useless, for there seems to be little attempt at any kind of obvious cultivation.

Even though it was only early September, autumn seemed to have really got underway already. Fungi of various descriptions had pushed their way up through the soil and leaf litter and colours on the trees were showing beginnings of autumn tints. The wet weather that had passed through earlier in the day seemed to heighten the sense of autumn. Glimpsed through the trees was Folly Pond, a surprisingly large body of water that was full of swans.I tried getting close for a good look but it was soon obvious that from the south side this wasn’t going to be possible. I therefore decided to wander around the northern edge of the pond to get a better look and was pleased I did so for the setting was absolutely beautiful.By now most of the clouds had cleared and the air was clear and bright with late afternoon sun. On one side of the lake overlooking the view was a large looking building that I later learned was a health resort. Rather a grand setting and I am sure it does very good business. How could it fail being here?

My onward route took me through fields and sections of more pine woodland until finding my way back to the old A3 at yet another coaching inn, this time the rather lonely looking Black Fox. All was quiet at the pub, although it did look as though it was still trading, which was some relief. So many have closed now that only the strongest seem to survive and these solitary places need to offer something extra special to stick around. It was here that I left the Sussex Border Path to start my return journey to the car park.

I crossed the road and headed off across a section of woodland that had recently been felled, leaving only tree stumps. Away in the distance I could see three large birds of prey (possibly buzzards) circling around above the still intact woodland and calling to each other. It was almost as if the three of them were working as a team. I joined what looked like it might once have been an estate road, marked as it was by some rather large columns on either side. It was obviously now a public highway, marked by the surprising number of cars that passed me as I walked the few hundred metres I needed to along it.

At the rather grand looking Milland House I turned to head across a still rather wet field. I passed by some more woodland and was just admiring a big clump of flowering heather in front of me when a small copper butterfly alighted on one of the stems posing and almost begging me to take a picture of it. Of course by the time I set myself it had taken flight – tease! I briefly came upon the old A3 for a third time, an unusual section for here it turned into a dual carriageway, very unnecessary now! The onward path left again almost at right angles and I felt rather odd as I crossed what appeared to be the bottom end of the garden of a rather large house in the distance.

At the other side of the garden I passed through a gate to come into the extraordinary churchyard of St Luke’s Church. This Victorian church is certainly very pleasant and looked its best in the early evening sunshine, but it is surely eclipsed by the adjacent and redundant Tuxlith Chapel. This old church is now cared for the by the Friends of Friendless Churches (a rather bitter-sweet concept) and dates from some time in the 16^th century although its origin seems to vary depending on which report you read! Declared redundant in 1974 the old chapel stands empty, but it is still possible to explore inside (I did).There are no longer any pews and I guess that its demise was principally because it was too small for its local audience, hence the bigger church was built next door. Nevertheless, it was a most enjoyable and unexpected find. I was amazed to think that I had never heard of this place, even though it is in the county that I have lived in for so many years.

From the churches I dropped down the side of a very steep and wooded hill via a set of slippery steps and passed the horse loving residents of Maysleith who were grooming their steeds. The next couple of miles were along a path through game bird shooting territory. There were literally hundreds of pheasants wandering about making the most awful racket calling to each other and warning their friends of my approach. By now I could tell that I was in a race against time to get back to the car as the sun was getting very low in the sky. I guess the pheasants were nervous as they were readying themselves for roosting down for the night.

I passed through Combeland Farm, which seemed to be yet another full of junk as well as a hay barn that was literally falling down around the hay it was supposed to be protecting. A little further on and I reached Combe Pond, yet another delightful oasis of calm in the woodland. Judging by the fishing platforms this looked like a popular spot with the angling fraternity, although at this late hour I had the place completely to myself. I did linger for a short while enjoying the moment but from here on I did not hang about. I was anxious to get back to the car for daylight hours were running low.

In all honesty there was little to report on the last stretch for much of it was through rather dark and foreboding woodland, heightening my desire to return to the car! The only thing I have to report is that inevitably perhaps I did take a wrong turn and ended up having to walk the last mile or so back along the road. Not pleasant, but at least I didn’t get horribly lost!

This was a nice easy walk with some really good highlights at Folly Pond and Tuxlith Chapel. There are few sections that are unpleasant and I am sure the last mile could have been avoided with more haste and less speed. The car park at Durford Heath is convenient for it lies directly on the path and there are a couple of pub stops en route for refreshments if needed. The only facility that isn’t available is a village shop, so make sure you have fluid with you before you set out. Conditions underfoot were mostly dry although there are a couple of the forest stretches where I could see that mud would be a serious problem in the winter months. I am looking forward to more of the same kind of terrain on the next section of the Sussex Border Path as I head towards Haslemere.

VeloRail Perigord Vert

2011-09-10T19:13:00.026+01:00

Ever since our first velorail experience in Normandy last autumn I had wanted to have a go at this activity. Our family holiday this year was in the Dordogne area of France and a quick search of the Velorails Federation website pointed to another opportunity at the nearby town of Corgnac-Sur-L’Isle (http://www.veloraildefrance.com/velorail-24.html). I persuaded the tribe to come again to explore a different line! A rather different type of outing this time!

As a quick reminder for those that haven’t read about our previous experience, France still has many miles of disused railway lines that are still intact. Apparently they are retained for strategic reasons in case the military need to use them and removal only happens once a solid case is put forward. This has led to the development of velorail (railway cycling) as a popular way of exploring some of these otherwise redundant and unused lines. There are approximately 40 velorail operations across the country.

The Perigord Vert operation is a rather different kind of experience to the one in Normandy. Firstly we had to turn up at a specified time, which we had to book in advance. We chose the 10am slot, on the basis that it might be a bit hot later in the day. We needn’t have worried as the weather was decidedly overcast, which was disappointing from the point of view of taking pictures. For pedalling though it was a bit of a godsend.

The ‘station’ at Corgnac Sur L’Isle where the rail cycles are collected is actually a little way out of the small town and not at the railway station. There is a small booking office and a line-up of rail cycles which is the only clue that the operation exists. According to the website there is a choice of routes from here, one way to Thiviers and the other to St Germain. The reality, certainly on the day we visited, was that the route to St Germain doesn’t actually seem to be available for the moment since all the timetabled slots were for Thiviers only.

The line forms part of a longer route that once ran from Brive to Angouleme across a very rural part of what is now known as the Perigord Vert. A railway line still crosses this part of the country, although from Limoges to Perigueux. It does at least pass through Thiviers, although I don’t think there are many stopping trains. The Brive-Angouleme line was opened fully in 1889, although some sections of the line opened rather earlier on a piecemeal basis. It closed for passenger traffic in 1940, presumably due to the war, and it never re-opened.

Goods traffic continued for some time afterwards in the shape of tobacco, wood and materials from foundries. The line closed in sections from 1960 and finally closed for good in 1993 and the remains were bought by the Departmental Government of the Dordogne. I understand that other sections have no track remaining, but the trackbed has been converted into cycle path, although the route is a bit fragmented.

This velorail was a little more expensive than last time (25 Euros) and slightly shorter at 6.5km (13km there and back). There were no rules of the road to worry about before we left. The reason for being timetabled soon became clear when we set off with all the other participants at regular intervals. Thus everyone was initially travelling in the same direction, meaning that no lifting cycles off the railway was necessary. The cycles themselves were very similar to the ones on our previous experience with no gears and so only modest speeds can be achieved.Braking is fairly rudimentary with a metal shoe being applied directly to the wheel! Anyhow, after the initial novelty value of the cycling it felt really good to be cycling along real rails again.

Shortly after getting going we came upon the former station at Corgnac-Sur-L’Isle. This was still in very good condition and a siding still contained some vintage looking rail inspection vehicles and even an old looking diesel unit that still looks serviceable. The platforms of the station were pretty grassed over and would probably need to be relaid if the line were ever to re-open, even as a tourist line.

Past the station and we crossed the L’Isle river by way of a cantilever bridge, a rather interesting way to cross a relatively modest sized river. The L’Isle drains away into the mighty Garonne at Bordeaux. A little beyond there and we came to a level crossing. Unlike ‘live’ railways the priorities are different at level crossings. Velorailers give way to road traffic and the owners of this operation were not taking any chances.A barrier had to be opened in order to continue on our way and we actually had to cross carefully on foot for this first crossing was actually a well used road.Indeed, there was a slight build up in velorail traffic as we had to wait for a couple of cars to pass. As with Normandy, the crossing keeper’s cottage had a beautifully laid out garden alongside the rail line.

Just beyond the first level crossing the reason for the style of operation became clear. From a fairly level section of track, the line began to climb gently and rather more effort was required to move our ‘train’. Another level crossing followed shortly after although this time there was no barrier. We were required to get off and walk again across the level crossing. Probably a sensible requirement, but slightly frustrating nonetheless as it seemed slightly unnecessary.

From the second level crossing the line began to climb a little more steeply and as we puffed a bit we passed a sign that advised that it would be uphill for the next 4km and offering some encouragement to keep going! The third level crossing soon came and this one was protected by quite a loud bell, which appeared to be activated by a trip sensor between the tracks triggered as we passed by. I suspect that this technology is still employed on rural lines that are still operational in France.

The line became a lot more wooded in nature from here on and views out across the surrounding countryside were only fleeting. The countryside was largely agricultural with plenty of cows in evidence. Most seemed to be laying down – were they trying to tell us something? Of perhaps more interest than the surrounding countryside though was the wobbly nature of the rails. They had obviously suffered from years of not being maintained to a standard that would be suitable for powered rail transport. Even on a rail cycle we leaned and rumbled a bit over the rails. Some of the sleepers looked pretty rotten and I suspect that some replacements will be needed in order to maintain the operation.

Towards the top of the slope we reached the station of Eyzerac-Labaurie. Some distance from the villages of the same names, it is now a private residence although the rather elderly chap that lives there seems to be very friendly towards velorailers as he gave us a cheery wave as we passed by. He keeps the old station beautifully, although the platform now resembles a lawn rather than its original appearance. No passengers have got the train from here since 1940 and yet the old place looks like it could reopen for business tomorrow!

At the end of the platform we again came across a level crossing, the last time that we did on the way out. Not only was there a barrier crossing but also a rope that we had to lift over the kids in order to move forward. This was clearly a reminder to make sure that all riders crossed the road on foot rather than on the bike. The slope continued beyond the level crossing and we passed through a short tunnel, which caused a little excitement with the small passengers on our ‘train’. A little way past the tunnel and we reached the end of the line. Thiviers station is on a busy operational line and so the velorail operation stops short of the junction at the back of a house with a decent sized garden. This has been turned into a refreshment stop serving coffees, ice creams and other drinks.It was a welcome break after the surprising slog up the line from Corgnac.

Turning all the rail cycles was performed by the staff rather than the riders. All the outward riders had to be accounted for before there was any chance of us heading back and so the layover was approximately 20 minutes. We sat and had a coffee, which was a very civilised way of passing the time.

We re-boarded in turn and waited for our slot. The system resembled a ‘real’ railway in that the start was signal controlled. I am guessing that the departing cyclists would trip something on the rail on the way down in order to reset the colour light signal in front of us. Once the green light came on it was go-go-go!

As soon as we set off it immediately felt like a different ride! Of course we were now losing all the altitude that we had gained and once through the tunnel and across the first level crossing we gave it as much speed as we could. Our speed was probably fairly modest as the gearing of the rail cycle wasn’t set up to allow for great speed. Yet, it did feel like we were licking along at the speed of an express train – very exhilarating! Even the bumpy track didn’t feel too bad, although going round the corners Pendolino style was a little scary! Going along at this speed quickly made me realise why this line had operated in this style. Trying to stop one of these rail cycles to allow another coming the other way to get off would be nigh on impossible.

As we hurtled down the track we were acutely aware that we had to stop at the elevl crossing. Firstly though another unexpected hazard became clear as a shoe came speeding past us, having left the foot of one of the cyclists ahead of us. There was no way the poor lady was going to stop to retrieve it. Countless drinks bottles and other ‘luggage’ could be found on the track, I am guessing from others having had a similar experience!

Eventually we drew into the village of Corgnac once again and reached the level part of the track. After the downhill section it was rather hard work trying to pedal very fast again as we had to put some effort into the last couple of kilometres. After passing across the bridge and through Corgnac station once again we were back at the beginning in rather less time than on the outward journey!

This was another hugely enjoyable velorail experience. My only criticism of these operations is that they seem to have little in the way of information available about the lines themselves – I had to rely on other sources to find out anything about this one and even then there wasn’t a big range of sources to choose from. The railway infrastructure though is largely complete and for this I am very pleased for so much has been lost of our rail heritage in this country. I was less sure that this operation would be a pre-curser to a heritage railway project and slightly mystified by the advertising of a route that didn’t seem to exist, onward from Corgnac to St Germain. It might be my only just able to ask for necessity French that meant I was missing something about the onward route. If you do visit though and you manage to do the section to St Germain I would be very interested to know about this route and how you get to ride on it…

Sussex Border Path Section 5 Rogate and Nyewood

2011-08-30T10:12:00.021+01:00

Another early morning expedition on the Sussex Border Path and for the first time I faced the prospect of a walk north of the South Downs ridge. In common with the last trip out on this walk I headed to a car park at the northern end of what I wanted to complete today. I arrived at just after 7am, a delightfully early hour to be out walking for there were few people about. The landscape at the beginning of the walk is more akin to the New Forest than the landscape normally associated with West Sussex. I found myself in a pine forest, still fairly wet from a day of heavy rain the day before and smelling pungent as a result.

I opted to do the unofficial loop before finishing with the official part of the route from where I had left it near South Harting on my last outing. Only five miles of the official route were to be followed today although my total walk was 11 miles. I headed out of the forest towards the village of Rogate and past Nyewood before meeting up with the official route just beyond West Harting.

The initial section of the day’s walking was delightful. I feel drawn to pine forests and heathland – I think after coastline it is my favourite type of countryside to walk through. I enjoy the smell of bracken and the warm earthy smell of decaying pine needles as well as the shafts of sunlight that penetrate through the sometimes thick overgrowth of pine trees (and a very different kind of light to that found in broad leaf forests). As I wandered through the forest enjoying the early morning sunlight I suddenly became aware of something following me. As I looked round I discovered it was a dog, which gave me a bit of a fright as it was almost on top of me before I realised.

I moved along more quickly to try and get some distance between myself and the dog walker and maintain our relative solitude. I didn’t have to worry too much – as we left the forest we took different directions as we headed out across the fields. Once free of the trees I was able to enjoy extensive views across to the Downs, with the ridge from Butser Hill to Bignor Hill being readily visible, a distance of well over 20 miles. I wandered down the lengthy access lane to the property (?) and once again I got to enjoy the antics of the butterflies servicing the hedgerow flowers. As ever they were incredibly hard to capture with a camera but I did have a go.

At the end of the lane I paused briefly to listen to the rat-tat-tat of a woodpecker high up in the tree. I am guessing it was a green one for it was pretty elusive and probably used its green plumage to hide in the foliage. This was outside a house where the car parked in the drive looked as if it were slowly being reabsorbed by nature. Such vehicles fascinate me as I always wonder whether the person that parked them in such a position intended that such a spot would be the vehicle’s final resting place?

Some way further on and I entered a potato field. This is a fairly unusual crop for Sussex and I cannot remember a time when I have previously had to wander across such a field. Being late summer the tops were starting to die off, suggesting that harvest time probably wasn’t too far away. The path wasn’t obvious across the field and initially I headed for the wrong corner before righting myself. It did give me the opportunity to see a good flush of camomile and poppies alongside the edge of the field. I also got a bit bogged down in the mud which seemed to be a bit of a problem in the corner. This reminded me that I had left the sandy soils of the forest earlier and was now crossing the clay vale that characterises this part of the Weald.

At the other end of the field was the delightful village of Rogate, spoiled only by the A272 and the traffic that thunders through. I availed myself of the local shop, which supplied a useful array of refreshments and then had a squint at the church, which is covered with wooden shingle tiles. The refuse crew from Chichester District Council were busying themselves in the village when I wandered through – one of several sightings of the same round that covers a surprisingly large rural area. I can think of worse places to pick up rubbish from!

From Rogate I headed across the fields towards Nyewood with the Downs looming ever closer to me. The fields were full of buzzing bees and hoverflies and there were also plenty of butterflies flapping between flowers. The late show of flowers alongside the fields suggested that herbicides are less commonly used in this area, which was good to see. I had to walk along the road for the last stretch towards Nyewood, which enabled quick progress but wasn’t a particularly pleasant stretch due to the odd speeding car.

Nyewood seemed to be more of a collection of houses rather than a proper village. I passed over an old railway bridge and remembered that the former Midhurst to Petersfield line passed through here so I went to have a look at the old station, which still exists although is now an office building. Originally the station was for Rogate and Harting, although it has to be said that it wasn’t convenient for either which probably explains the settlement having grown up around the station. Anyhow, the last train left from here in 1955 and the line looks almost completely forgotten now. See how it used to look at http://www.gravelroots.net/rail1.html . A little further down the road I encountered the refuse crew on their rounds once again, making short work of the bins along the road through the village.

I joined the Serpent Trail for a short while as I left Nyewood. This rather odd path is so-called because it resembles a snake as it navigates its way through the sandy geology of this part of the Weald. I suspect this will become a future project some day! Once past a small piece of woodland it was back out into open fields and had an encounter with a small group of horses. In fact the whole of this area seems very popular with horse lovers as I had already passed a number of fields full of horses.

A little further on and my encounter was a group of cows all charging into the field, presumably from milking. I stood and watched as they found their freedom once again. The farm hand reassured me by shouting that they wouldn’t be a problem for me. I guess some walkers are nervous of cows these days following a couple of well publicised cases where people have been killed by cattle. I was too far away to really worry about them too much.

I headed through fields to West Harting, thinking that there were already definite signs of autumn even in early August. Apples were weighing heavily on trees and crops were almost ready for harvesting. I encountered the refuse crew one last time in the village, thinking that they were following my every move (or was it the other way round?), before meeting with the Sussex Border Path at last and heading north once again.

I passed by the substantial house called Quebec, where I saw a sign for a woman for a 71 year old woman who had gone missing. I stopped to read it, for such a sign is quite unusual in rural areas like this. It seemed as if she had gone missing from her house in South Harting a week or so beforehand. I hoped she was alright – I gather she was suffering from Alzheimers (I later discovered that she was found safe and well!).

I had a bit of road walking ahead of me and the odd few houses I saw on the way all had superbly maintained gardens full of flowers. It must be lovely to have enough time of your hands to be able to keep gardens like this. Eventually I left the road and headed off across cow pastures to Down Park Farm. This place was a veritable junk yard. The whole farm seemed to be full of all manner of farm machinery that had been left to rust and rot away. It was like a long lost museum!

A little way past the farm the scenery changed once more to sandy heathland and the slightly sticky conditions that I had encountered completely dried up. I think that is why I like this type of countryside so much – it is rare that mud becomes a problem on these kinds of soils. I also briefly met with the Serpent Trail again but split when I reached the line of the old railway that I had met at Nyewood. I passed through the remains of the old bridge (only the abutments were left) and a huge house alongside. The house had incorporated some of the old trackbed in its garden, which afforded them a small platform like area above the surrounding countryside and a view across the field opposite. I should imagine it is quite a pleasant place to sit and read the newspaper!

A little further on and I crossed the River Rother, which was ablaze with the pink colours of Himalayan Balsam. This pest of a plant chokes river banks, but is undoubtedly quite pretty when in flower and seemingly beloved of butterflies and bees, which may account for its spread. Beyond came the section of path I had been dreading – the half mile trek along the A272. It’s a pity that the path planners hadn’t come up with a better solution here, for the dead straight section was pretty unpleasant especially because of the speed of passing vehicles.

I was pleased to leave the road at Durleighmarsh Farm. I travelled along what appeared to be an old coaching road through some dense woodland. This eventually opened out a bit to provide views across the surrounding countryside and I could soon see that I was closing the loop that I had started out on early that morning. The last section through the pine forest and Durford Heath was a most pleasant way of ending the day’s walk. Now much later in the day (it was almost 11am now), the mood of the forest was much changed. Gone was the early morning moisture and slightly damp atmosphere and now I was glad of the shade provided by the trees. As I wandered through the forest I disturbed a deer, who initially looked at me to assess whether I was a threat, before running away quickly through the trees. It was a lovely way to finish my day’s walking just as everybody else was getting ready to head out!

I was pleased that I began and ended my walk in the pine forests, rather than have it part of the middle as would have been the case if I had begun where I had left off last time. From here the next couple of sections will be through the sand-influenced heathland of north west Sussex. It’s a part I am looking forward to exploring more!

Sussex Border Path Section 4 South Harting and Chalton

2011-08-06T06:50:00.024+01:00

Another beautiful sunny morning awaited me on my next foray on the Sussex Border Path. Today I headed for a piece of Sussex that I know a little better than had gone before. South Harting is a beautiful, quintessentially English village at the foot of the Downs, just in West Sussex but a stone’s throw from Petersfield. One of the reasons that the village is familiar to me is that it is where the escarpment of the South Downs properly gets underway and the view of the village is an early highlight of the South Downs Way.

It was pretty early when I began my walk and for a change I decided to get the non Border Path section completed first. I wandered up the deserted main street (well, who else would be silly enough to get up as early as me?) and past the distinctive church with its green copper roof. The flower baskets were in full bloom all along the main street, which made the village look fantastic on this mid summer day. I was rather amused to see that outside of the church was a set of stocks, a mediaeval way of dealing with miscreants. I wonder if they are still used?

Just beyond the church and I was pleased that it was early morning for I had to walk along a busy stretch of road that had no pavement. I was pleased that I could do this bit before the traffic really got going for the day. Just after this little bottleneck I headed off the road to begin the slow climb up onto the South Downs. I initially wandered past a group of small lakes (supporting a fairly large population of ducks) that made me wonder how they came to be? They looked like hammer ponds but are a bit off patch for this kind of activity (more associated with The Weald, some 25 miles or so away).Perhaps they were a drinking water supply to make the most of the many springs that emanate from the foot of the Downs?

I began the plod up through the trees to the top of the Downs, expecting the sort of climb that I am used to closer to Worthing. However, this proved not to be the case and it was more of a gentle amble through the tall beech grove that covered the side of the scarp slope. At the top of the hill I finally passed out of the shade and into the sun and soon realised that it was going to be a very warm day. By now the colours of the vegetation were also passing from the lush, early summer colours to the rather more tired late summer look.Butterflies and bees were making the most of the sunny conditions and visiting every flower available to stock up on food reserves.I saw this as a good opportunity to practice macro shots with my little camera. Despite being ostensibly a point and shoot camera, it can get some good close in shots of insects, although it can also be a slightly hit and miss activity.I was excited that the first opportunity was to get a picture of a fairly small spider preparing a hapless bumble bee for a sumptuous meal.

The path onwards was a section of the South Downs Way that I am very familiar with. However, in all the times I have completed the walk, I have never once followed the route in an East to West direction. It felt a little odd, and the views didn’t seem quite right! The South Downs Way is a bit of a motorway of local routes and it wasn’t long before I saw the first cyclists bombing towards me. Cycling the South Downs Way has become increasingly popular in recent years, and I have to confess that I almost did it that way during my latest completion in 2008.

At Sunwood Farm the path became a road as the South Downs Way briefly follows the access road to Ditcham Park School, a private school high up on the Downs that will be visited a little further along the route. Even the approach road along a line of copper beech trees is quite impressive. Just as I reached North Lodge, the traditional entrance to the estate I hooked right to find a footpath that passed around the perimeter.

After a bit longer along the South Downs Way I finally turned off at the small nature reserve at Coulter’s Dean. This little area of downland is noted for its wild flowers, hence it is protected. I didn’t really want to wade through the grassland just in case I squashed something important! I continued through the lovely beech forest, enjoying my solitude and the cool shade afforded by the trees.

At the far end of the wood I came out into a field with a stunning view across the Downs towards Chichester. It made me realise how extensive this part of the Downs actually is, for there is a whole section of land south of the chalk, which simply doesn’t exist further east. I soon rejoined the drive down towards Ditcham Park School, left earlier at North Lodge. I was immediately struck by the number of butterflies along the hedgerow at the side of the road; most were brown species and not the more colourful, but it was the sheer number that amazed me. I was fascinated by their comings and goings as I ambled along the road towards the school.

Even better was to follow at the school when I passed by a corner that I took to be the nature area. Reaching out over the fence was a large buddleia bush and it was populated by some very large and colourful butterflies. In the few minutes I stood and watched I saw Painted Ladies, Red Admirals and Small Tortoiseshells to name just a few. I was mesmerised! The school itself, a little further on, is obviously a country pile bought for the purpose. Apparently during World War II the old place served as a convalescent home for injured servicemen when it was requisitioned by the Ministry of Defence.

As I headed obviously downhill towards the valley that I walked along in the previous leg of this route, I came upon the first ripe blackberries of the year – quite something for late July! Across the fields I could just make out another historic building – the old windmill high above the hill at Chalton. This is now a residence, having been saved from possible demolition by the local authority giving it listed status and a person having the foresight to turn it into an attractive home.

All the way down the slope into the valley of the railway (not sure if it has a name!) the sides of the path were buzzing with all manner of insects with hoverflies particularly numerous but also ladybirds, bees and many other species of butterfly, not all of which wanted to play ball with me on the picture taking front. However, I did get lots of practice all the way! Eventually I reached the bottom of the slope at Woodcroft Farm, where there was lots of activity from people getting ready to go out horse riding for the day. Having already been out for a couple of hours I really felt like I had a head start on them!

I crossed the railway via one of the old 1930s concrete footbridges that were provided by Southern Railway. I thought it a little out of place, being more in keeping with a station. However, I did notice a redundant platform by the side of the line, which I found rather odd. When I later looked this up, I discovered that it had been the halt provided for convalescing troops being treated at Ditcham Park. The halt only lasted a couple of the war years before becoming redundant and Woodcroft Halt as it was named closed for good. Presumably there was insufficient traffic for a more permanent stop, with the small village of Chalton a mile or so distant not being big enough to warrant a further stop on the line.

It was to Chalton that I headed next. This small village is a little gem, tucked away on the edge of East Hampshire. The Red Lion, a pub in the middle of the village is delightful and had a super set of hanging baskets on show. The church was strangely quiet for a Sunday morning, although I suspect I might have been too late for the morning service.

Having had a quick look at the village I retraced my steps back to Woodcroft Farm. I was now on the walk of my objective! I now followed the Sussex Border Path back from here to the top of Harting Down. Unlike the outward part of the walk, this section was almost exclusively woodland. This presented me with reward and annoyance. Reward in the number of butterflies that I saw and annoyance when I managed to take a couple of wrong turns on the way!

I did have a very magical moment through this section of the walk when I spotted a peacock butterfly recently emerged from its chrysalis and drying its wings while sitting on a blade of grass. Initially the wings were kept firmly shut and I almost dismissed it as another of its dowdy brown cousins such as I had seen earlier. I kept with it though, just in case it showed me something else. Then flash! When it opened its wings it provided the most dazzling and vibrant show of colour I have ever seen on a butterfly. It’s not a word I like or use very often but it was simply awesome!

A little further on from this wonderful sight and I found a hangout for a number of other types of butterfly especially red admirals with their vibrant black and red colours. These are my personal favourites, so it was fantastic to see so many fluttering around me! This encounter was the result of another wrong turn and correction, so I was glad that it happened this time!

I eventually emerged from the wood at Foxcombe Farm having picked my way down an unusually muddy and steep hill. The Farm boasted a huge farmhouse and its setting out in the rolling Downs must make the place quite a bolthole. I walked steadily uphill and crossed the part of the South Downs Way that I had walked along earlier keeping straight on and following the tarmac road down the scarp slope of the Downs. Occasionally I would get a peep through the tees at the surrounding countryside and caught a glimpse of a whole bunch of running deer along the side of a far off field on one occasion.

Eventually I reached the main road and I decided that the walk back along it to South Harting, although tempting in terms of short cut, was just too unpleasant to think about and so I crossed to walk around the base of Torberry Hill, the site of an Iron Age Hill Fort. The atmosphere of the hill fort was rather ruined by a scrambling competition that was going on at the time. Bike after bike buzzed past me with their annoying raspy sounding engines. I was glad eventually to get out of earshot at the north end of the hill, but I just swapped the annoyance of the trial bikes for more road walking.Fortunately it did not last too long and it was also mercifully much quieter than the Petersfield Road I had contemplated walking along. However, it was inevitable I would walk along some of it as there was no alternative from my position. Fortunately, the section I did do was mercifully short and I was soon reunited with the car, some 12 miles and 4 hours after I had started.

This was a hugely enjoyable circular walk around a part of the South Downs I knew little about except for the stretch of the South Downs Way I had previously walked. I was delighted by the butterflies and enjoyed the range of wild flowers I saw immensely. It was a relatively easy walk with long steady climbs rather than short steep ones (excepting a short steep one at Chalton). I was quite pleased to have completed the walk during a morning, but I wouldn’t mind betting that a summer evening would do just as well!

Bournemouth Coast Path Section 2 Bournemouth Pier - Christchurch

2011-07-31T19:27:00.024+01:00

A frustrating week culminated in me being able to wangle a morning out away from the folks several days after I had planned to initially go for my latest expedition. The weather had been awful for most of the week and I was champing at the bit to get out by the time Sunday morning came along.The weather wasn’t great in Sussex so I headed west to Bournemouth, which looked to have the best of the meagre sunshine that was on offer.I was keen to do some more of the coast path that I had commenced in March and figured that this would be a good walk to do, especially as the end to end transport would be nice and easy.Frustratingly I had to wait until 9.15am for the first train of the day from Christchurch to Bournemouth.Thestation at Bournemouth is a fittingly grand station for such a well-visited seaside resort.

Although the station building is lovely, the same cannot be said of the way into town from outside. I was greeted with a large (and closed) shopping centre which I had to find my way around before plodding on down to the seafront. The streets had a decidedly hung over feel about them with litter blowing around from the debris of a tough Saturday night. Many of the people wandering about also looked a bit gaunt too, although there were a couple of anti-social blokes wandering about who were trying to wake up everyone with their boom box. I was very surprised to see such a sight – one I hadn’t for possibly 20 years.

Eventually I made my way down to the seafront and circled around the hotel I had stayed in during March to meet up with the clifftop path. As I turned on to the seafront I immediately felt the full force of the wind! It was a grey day yes, but I already felt exhilarated just walking a short stretch along the coast. It certainly was going to blow the cobwebs away.The first point of interest was the Russell Cotes Gallery, with a rather festive looking lion gracing its entrance.The building itself was presented to the people of Bournemouth in 1916, a rather odd year I thought considering that most attention at that time was focused on the battlefields of Northern France and Flanders. The fence on the seaward side of the path also caught my eye.Embedded within it were all manner of miniature objects and pictures that make Bournemouth famous, including sticks of rock, kites, beach huts and even a metal detector!It made for a rather more interesting piece of street furniture than plain old black railings…

Once at the top of East Cliff I wandered along a road full of hotels of varying descriptions including a fine art deco looking place called The Cumberland and one with very well-tended gardens called the Miramar. The latter also had a lion within the grounds – perhaps this is part of a theme? Far below me the waves crashed in on a very choppy and grey looking sea. I am sure it was a day beloved of surfers but not swimmers! Above the din of the waves I heard the rumble of what I took to be a train and on getting closer I discovered it was another cliff lift, in use this early Sunday morning. Looking down the cliff it did seem pretty steep and I could see that this service could be pretty popular!

Eventually I reached a very large car parking area and sensing that the path may not continue beyond it, I headed down into Boscombe Chine Gardens. This immediately seemed like a different world to the cliff top as the wind died down. There were plenty of people about on their early morning jog and the children’s play area was already quite popular.It was immediately apparent that the gardens had had some investment judging by the quality of the paths and other street furniture and I soon discovered that it had been funded as a Heritage Lottery project.It was surprising to learn that the original pleasure park had been developed as long ago as 1868, so I guess this really is a piece of local heritage!

The other end of the gardens opened out onto Boscombe Pier. This has obviously been fairly recently refurbished and the landward end of the pier looked really good, with newish looking shops, yet still retaining their heritage look. I understand that there was a pavilion on the seaward end but this has now been replaced by a fishing deck, giving the pier a rather different look and feel. The pier was awarded the Pier of the Year title in 2010.As I passed the land train came sweeping round, adorned with Peppa Pig motifs and perhaps explaining why it was quite popular. I felt the first spots of rain at Boscombe Pier and hoped that it would not develop into much as I still had a long way to go! I also discovered another model lion – this time wearing Bermuda shorts! It was obviously something going on that I hadn’t been aware of.

Adjacent to Boscombe Pier was a very large development of new flats and shops and I am guessing that this was the catalyst to the refurbishment of the pier. It all looked very pleasant and the shops appeared to be doing some reasonable business. I smiled at the would-be surfers being taught moves on the beach opposite the flats – I guess surf schooling is big business in these parts following the installation of an artificial reef offshore designed to make the experience even better. I also became fascinated with the antics of a black headed gull, which spent a lot of time scuttling around looking for titbits to eat. I did wonder whether some of these resort gulls even know what their diet is supposed to be?

My onward walk for the next couple of miles was a bit samey. Although I enjoy wandering alongside beach huts and gorse covered cliffs, the monotony did get to me after awhile. Luckily the sand blowing around on the promenade and the different light patterns dancing their way across the sea at the sun tried to punch through the clouds kept me somewhat entertained. Ahead of me was the lump of Warren Hill that never seemed to get any closer!

Tiring of the flat promenade, I took the opportunity to climb the cliffs once again for a different perspective. Immediately I felt my spirits rise as the views were instantly better. It didn’t take long before I came across yet another cliff lift, this one called Fisherman’s Cliff. I paused here, not because of the lift (it wasn’t yet open), but to watch a kestrel hunting on the side of the cliff. Far below me were a group of small boys playing rugby – one sport I have never before seen being played on a beach!

I wandered along the nature reserve at the top of the cliff until the cliff ran out! At this point I ran into housing that occupied the now thinning piece of land and was rather disappointed to have to walk along a road for a bit. There was a mish-mash of housing along here & one or two of the early build properties had been or were in the process of being replaced by new more palatial ones. I suspect this will be an ongoing theme for some years to come, especially as the originals don’t look too well appointed.

Frustrated by the road at the top of the cliffs I took the first opportunity to head back down to the promenade, doing so by the Bistro on the Beach. Initially it looked like the place was closed but when I got closer, I soon realised that everyone was inside! I don’t blame them – it was far to wild to be outside sitting down. I can’t say that the restaurant was the most attractive place in the world – it was a rather a hideous looking 60s building. A pity because its surroundings were lovely!

After wandering along the promenade for half a mile or so more I reached the end and entered the rather wilder and more countrified area known as Hengitsbury Head. This nature reserve centres on the headland and spit of land protecting Christchurch Harbour. As I headed towards the prominent Warren Hill, the weather whipped up again and I faced a squally shower. With the rain at my back and the heavy crashing waves pounding the beach to my right I had to pinch myself and remember that it was the middle of July! As I entered the nature reserve I passed a family with young children who appeared to be backpacking. I cast an envious look – it’ll be several years before my kids are old enough to manage this.

Hengitsbury Head and Warren Hill is an area of much archaeological interest, with many relics of occupation peoples from Stone Age onwards. There are defensive earthworks suggesting that it was a permanent settlement for a long time. Archaeologists have also found numerous tools and other artefacts which point to the rather agricultural lifestyle by the inhabitants. The viewpoint at Warren Hill must have been a strategic place that the local exploited for protection, for a section of coast from Swanage to far into the New Forest can be seen, together with the western end of the Isle of Wight.

The approaches to Warren Hill is very sandy but I was glad that a longish section was on boardwalk, for it made the going much easier. As I got closer to the hill the crowds got bigger and I realised that most had probably made use of the car park at the foot just inland from the path I was using. The poor weather began to abate as I climbed the hill, which was a relief for it meant that my view from the top was really good, albeit that it was a grey and overcast day. Climbing to the top changed my perspective completely.From a largely flat and straight piece of coast I suddenly got a view all round me including into the countryside beyond Christchurch, my final destination later in the day.Ahead of me was a rather forlorn looking Coastguard station, which still seems to be Government owned rather than taken over by the Coastwatch Foundation. Maybe a change of ownership might give it a new lease of life?

I had assumed that Warren Hill would be the last point eastwards but I was quite wrong. There was actually quite a bit more walking to be done before getting to the mouth of Christchurch Harbour. The going was easy, courtesy of the tarmac path presumably provided for the disabled and parents with pushchairs. However, I was plagued with Sunday strollers who seem to have no appreciation for those around them and insist on walking at snail’s pace while simultaneously blocking the whole path. Fortunately the views all around me compensated for the very slow pace I had to adopt for awhile.I was pleased when the crowd ahead of me finally stopped to consider the departure of the Poole Ferry some distance away, which allowed me to get ahead and put some distance between us.

At Hengitsbury Head, the path finally dropped down off the cliff and I took the opportunity to wander a little way along the spit below me. I didn’t walk all the way to the end where the ferry takes people across the harbour mouth, principally because all there was to look at were beach huts and I had had my fill of looking at them today! However, my attempt at a short cut from the spit to the perimeter road was ill-fated due to the state of the tide.A little footbridge I had hoped to use had been circumvented by the tide and so I had to retrace my steps back to the road. The land train looked rather tempting but wasn’t about so I opted to walk along the road. This ended up being a sensible decision as I had completed half its length before meeting it coming the other way.

I was now walking along a section of path shared with the Stour Valley Way (the Dorset version), which finishes here after following the River Stour all the way from Stourhead, some 64 miles away. The weather was really picking up and I even noticed a few breaks in the cloud, hinting I might see some sunshine by the end of my walk after all. I wandered through a wood that afforded fleeting views across the Stour Estuary and finally the substantial church in Christchurch.

I changed direction at Wick Farm, passing what I took to be a visitor centre by the car park. From here I crossed a former landfill site (although to be fair I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t seen an interpretation board). Despite what must be lurking underneath the now restored site was a riot of colour from wildflowers. None were what you call top drawer, but the harebells, ragwort, toadflax, wild geraniums and rosebay willow herb all provided some vibrant colours on this dull day.

Christchurch came upon me sooner than I expected and with it came the sunshine. Since I had parked near the station, I had to make my way all the way along the Stour to the lowest bridge. As I got closer into town the clouds suddenly lifted and for the last half mile or so I had a very bright and sunny walk along the riverside – a very different proposition from earlier! I crossed the Stour by a very busy road bridge and walked along the main road into town, noticing as I did so a very black cloud looming to one side of me. I suddenly sensed a race against time as I approached my car and quickened my pace. It was fortunate I did so as the raindrops just started as I was within 50 metres of the car. By the time I got in the rain started clattering down in bucketloads – what a stroke of luck!

As with so many of my walks this one changes character part way through. From a seaside resort coast, the walk takes a wild turn around Hengitsbury Head before taking a riverside path for the final approach. It is well worth lingering for the views at Warren Hill or perhaps stopping for lunch in one of the cafes along the first part of the walk. It is also a relatively easy walk for anyone to do, for the public transport link is easy (via a 10 minute train ride) and the terrain is virtually flat apart from the modest climb of Warren Hill.

Sussex Border Path Section 3 Rowland's Castle and Chalton

2011-07-26T05:47:00.020+01:00

On a remarkably similar day to the last outing on the Sussex Border Path, I again got myself out of bed nice and early on a Sunday morning and headed out to the western end of the county to chip off a few more miles of this route. On the last trip I had clocked a small parking area by the entrance to Stansted House and resolved to park there. However, when I arrived I found I was too early! Luckily there was ample room to park by the side of the road. This part of Sussex in particular is very rural and with little public transport available it is virtually impossible to undertake this section without a car or by taking some lengthy detours.

I headed back along The Avenue, retracing my steps back to where I had left the Sussex Border Path previously. Essentially it meant this time that I walked the whole length of The Avenue, a walk reminiscent of the landscaping normally associated with French Chateaux rather than English country houses (although there are a few notable exceptions). The Avenue was alive with the sound of twittering birds and chirping and buzzing insects, all out trying to get themselves fed after a few days of rotten weather behind us. Other than the wildlife, I had the whole path to myself, which was absolutely great.

At the far end of The Avenue, there was a memorial to a lost aircrew that had crashed during World War 2. It was highly decorated, giving a poignant reminder of how much these chaps sacrificed keeping our freedoms alive. Just beyond the memorial the wide open space of The Avenue came to a halt and the path disappeared into some trees, emerging on the edge of Rowland’s Castle. Although off route I was keen to see if I could see anything of the castle and so headed off into the village.

I passed under the railway line and approached the village green. There was rather a big clear up operation going on as the green had hosted a music event the night before and the litter gangs were out clearing up the debris left behind. I wanded to the other end of the green where I thought I might see the castle but realised quite quickly that whatever was left it was protected within a large area of walled off private land so I gave up. Still it wasn’t a wholly wasted detour, as Rowland’s Castle was a pleasant place to stroll around and I should imagine quite a desirable place for Portsmouth commuters to live.

I retraced my steps back to the Sussex Border Path and headed out along the road that runs north out of the village. Alongside the pavement were a strip of bungalows where you clearly have to be a keen gardener in order to own a house there. The outlook was across open fields and woods. I can think of far worse places to be! Luckily though the road walking was kept to a minimum and soon I headed along a path between the houses and across the railway once more.The fields on the other side were showing the first signs of ripening, heralding the arrival of late summer already.The path wove through fields of crops before reaching the next village, Finchdean. I was now sharing the route with the Staunton Way, a path I had followed pre-camera days and in the opposite direction.

All was quiet in the village, with few people about, in contrast to the scene at Rowland’s Castle. I passed the George Inn, a place I seem to remember having a very welcome pint in one day when walking in these parts. Being breakfast time still there was no chance of reprising this memory! The village doesn’t amount to much, although it does host one of those curious little pounds where livestock used to be stored. There are still a surprising number about even though they are all completely redundant these days.

Upon leaving Finhdean I initially continued along the road but was thankful when after a short distance the path escaped along the side of a field. The crop was rapeseed, now long past its lurid yellow colour and a duller shade of green/ brown as the seed pods were ripening. I was more interested in the wild flowers along the edges of the field and the various bugs that these were attracting. The poppies were the star of the show, with hoverflies going mad for them, although the flush of red colour was on the wane and it was just the late flowers that were still going.The path steadily climbed to eventually reach Idsworth Down. As I climbed the most wonderful downland views emerged as I was now heading towards the ridge of the South Downs.

Far below me was the small and unusual church at Idsworth. This little church was apparently the chapel of a large manor house, but the owner departed when the railway through the valley was built, taking the village with him. Now the church lies all alone in a field, with only the walled gardens of the former manor house as a companion. It looks rather incongruous in the countryside now, although it has stood here since the 12^th Century.

As I reached the top of the hill I passed the curiously named wood called The Folly. I was intrigued as to how it got its name and had a scout about to see if there was a stone tower or some other such thing lurking inside, but didn’t see any remains of any sort sadly. A little further on was the unusual sight of the electricity pylons and wiring being replaced. It had never occurred to me how complicated this task must be until I saw the work in progress. A large amount of the field had been left bare and a temporary service road constructed in order to complete the work.

Once past the pylon work the path continued through more fields of various types of crop as I made my way along Chalton Down. Although the far off views were still great (even being able to see the Isle of Wight on this most clear of mornings), the immediate walking wasn’t so interesting. I put off visiting Chalton village until the next stage of the walk and left the Sussex Border Path shortly afterwards so that I could complete my circuit back to the car in Stansted Park.

The walk down the side of Chalton Down was hugely interesting. I am guessing that this is what is technically known as ‘unimproved grassland’ for the whole of the side of the down was covered in all manner of lime loving wild flowers and a profusion of butterflies, all of which seemed to be camera shy! It was a delightful walk which disappointingly ended when I crossed a stile and ended up trying to walk through a thicket where the path had been seldom used.I passed underneath the railway via a very low pedestrian bridge and joined the road the other side. I faced about a mile of road walking now, which was unexciting and probably should have been replaced by a longer walk though the fields and a closer look at Idsworth Church. To be honest I wasn’t paying sufficient attention and probably missed the best sight on the rest of the walk. Oh well – another jaunt along the Staunton Way should rectify this…

As I headed along the road I was stopped by a rather stressed looking driver who was looking for the Goodwood Festival of Speed which was taking place about twenty miles from my location. It seemed a rather odd way to be going, but he looked mightily relieved when I showed him where to go on his road atlas. Surely stuff like this shouldn’t happen now in the age of satnavs?

I was relieved myself to leave the road behind and climbed through some very attractive woodland until reaching what seemed to be an ancient trackway, hemmed in by high hedges and trees. I guessed that this was probably once a roadway of sorts but not deemed important enough to become a highway when roads were metalled. It was a pleasant if not overly exciting stroll for the next couple of miles. I eventually reached the village of West Marden, although only skirted it before climbing up to walk through more fields. These were thick with the scent of camomile, a smell that is quite sickly and very distinctive. The flowers grew in profusion along the side of the fields and the smell certainly grew stronger as I walked across some of the flowers that had strayed onto the path.

At the end of the fields I entered into woodland that forms the outer edges of Stansted Park and I knew that I would be getting back fairly soon. The air was alive with the sound of buzzing insects and twittering birds, a sound I had largely missed for some time, apart from a few skylarks telling me off way back on Chalton Down. By now it was getting on for late morning and other walkers were about too. It felt rather strange sharing the countryside with others as up to now I had pretty much had the place to myself. I breathed a sigh of relief though as the various dog walkers I encountered weren’t going the same way as me and I returned to my solitude. The path eventually escaped the woodland and skirted alongside it, providing great views down towards Langstone Harbour and the Isle of Wight beyond.

Soon I emerged onto the park road that I had walked along a few weeks previously when I had visited Racton Monument. It was a bit déjà vu as I headed along the estate road back to the colonnaded lodge house and to my car just beyond. The Sussex Border Path part of this route was very nice, but if I’m honest I probably picked a route back to complete the circuit that was too long and a little short on things to see. True it was a fabulous day and I should not be disappointed by that, but I couldn’t help feeling that I could have extended the SBP part of the walk at the expense of the rest.

The Basingstoke Canal Section Two Ash Vale to Woodham Junction

2011-07-17T20:48:00.023+01:00

About three weeks after my first trip to the canal came the second. Having enjoyed the first section so much I was eager to finish the rest and I managed to pick a day that had almost identical weather to the first trip! Having finished at Brookwood last time, I have to say that the last part of the ride between Ash Vale and Brookwood was rather rushed feeling, so I was quite keen to reacquaint myself with the towpath between those two places. I was helped by the fact that the train from West Byfleet actually heads straight for Ash Vale, meaning that the journey from end to end by train was only 20 minutes.

Ash Vale station is not an easy one to get out of with a bike as the platforms are high up above the adjacent street (to be fair I think there was a lift but I didn’t use it). Once I had hauled the bike to the bottom of the several flights of steps I turned left out of the station and pedalled back uphill, almost to platform level where I reunited with the canal at the end of the station. I soon realised it was at the abandoned wharf that I had passed by a few weeks previously. On the other side of the railway bridge was a small lake called Little Mytchett, presumably constructed to help maintain a steady water supply through this section.I noticed on the map that some of the lake had been cut off by the railway line being constructed across it –not the first canal casualty of that practice!What was left was very picturesque though and got me in the mood for the rest of the trip nicely!

Through the wooded section I continued until reaching a railway bridge. Although less than half a mile from Ash Vale station, this was not the line that I had travelled on, but another serving Ash Vale which heads off towards Camberley and Ascot. The canal was quite dark under the foliage and the small basin in front of the bridge was rather grotto like. Yet the other side of the bridge things could not have been more different as the canal opened up into quite a large lake (Mytchett Lake) which seemed to be home to many species of ducks as well as a large number of swans and the ubiquitous moorhens and coots.Across the lake was a large building breaking up the trees and associated with the barracks behind.

As the path left the lake behind and passed under another bridge (a road one this time) and then back into a tree lined tunnel. The canal here was quite straight and stretched on for quite a distance ahead of me – a contrast to the early stages where I seemed to be going round and round corners all the time. A little further on was a little section of canal that headed into an adjacent house, perhaps a hotel. It all looked very inviting but sadly I could see little more than a glimpse because of an island in my way. On my left I was joined by the railway I had crossed under a few minutes before. I didn’t initially notice but jumped out of my skin when a train came stealthily behind me when I wasn’t expecting it.

The line continued on my left for a bit but eyes were now on the right bank as I passed by the campsite and visitor centre for the canal. Sadly on both occasions I passed by I was unable to get across the canal to see anything further (the bridge across only opens for certain times of the day). Yet all around was busy – the first time I passed there was a full campsite (unsurprising for a Saturday evening), while on the second (a Wednesday evening) there were still a few customers. Boat trips leave from this point and there was a bit of boating traffic on both occasions. Given the proximity to the campsite there was also a number of canoeists exploring the canal. I should imagine this is perhaps the most popular section of the canal to do so.

A little further on and I became of a railway line next to the towpath once again. This was not the same line as before however – this was a miniature railway that seemed to be quite extensive. As I followed the line it soon became clear that this was quite a large facility and I was very interested to see the station and shedding facilities at the far end. This was the Frimley Lodge Railway, probably worth a look when in operation. Sadly of course being a midweek evening there was no chance of this being the case. In fact when I found the timetable I noticed that it generally only operates about once a month so a ride would be a rare treat indeed!Everything was well shut up and vandal proof – I guess that could be quite a problem in this built up area.

A little way past the miniature railway and the towpath comes to an abrupt stop at the next bridge, with walkers and cyclists required to cross the busy road bridge. There is a Harvester restaurant tucked away at the side of the road here – may be a good option if you are on an all day excursion? Onward from the bridge the towpath first passes a cute little lodge house and then across perhaps the most impressive engineering feature of the whole canal, the aqueduct carrying the canal over the railway.Originally this had to cross a double track railway but had to be doubled in length when the railway was increased to four tracks.Probably the full extent of the engineering cannot be appreciated from above but it is nonetheless a little odd having to cross speeding trains on a waterway.

The canal then turns almost right angles and heads into Deepcut, a lengthy section of cutting enclosed by forest. It is actually quite hard imagining the urban nature of the surrounding area, for this section was largely devoid of walkers and cyclists when I headed through on both occasions. In fact the only people I remember on the whole section was a lonely boat travelling through. Given that the locks further on were not functioning I don’t suppose they had gone very far! The cutting was full of butterflies and assorted buzzing insects, all taking advantage of the various nectar opportunities from the flowers all along the side of the canal.

At the end of the cutting is a former lock-keepers house – now a beautifully kept country cottage. Alongside is a polytunnel, which presumably acts as a repair shop for narrow boats. The chap in the back garden was very busy sawing wood and took no notice of me. Alongside him was what I suspect was the latest boat project; I guess you would be inspired to do this kind of work in such surroundings! Alongside the cottage was the first of a series of locks which descend the canal down through Pirbright and through a large area of military establishments.This section proved to be very popular with squaddies, with several groups using the canal as a training and jogging course (some were wearing packs and some not).It proved a little disconcerting trying to make sure I stayed out of their way as I descended through the section. As well as the locks, the wooded countryside was extremely beautiful – perhaps the prettiest section of the whole canal length.

The big disappointment for me on this section was the state of the canal. So far along its length the canal was in really good shape following its restoration 20 years ago. Now though several of the locks were out of action and as a result the canal was holding little, if any water. Even some of the balancing ponds were just a sea of mud and the couple of miles through this section had a strong smell of river mud as a result. It was all very disappointing, although I at least made very quick progress due to my earlier decision to travel in this direction. That meant that I was heading downhill all the way, which was rather more pleasant than the alternative!

Just shy of Brookwood I came upon another well preserved canal cottage, with what looked like some abutments of a railway bridge opposite. I later learned that this was the remains of the so-called Necropolis Railway, which once connected Brookwood Cemetery directly to Waterloo Station in London. Brookwood Cemetery was envisaged to become London’s main burial ground in the late Victorian years, when cemetery space in the capital became ever more scarce. Because of public health fears the cemetery was located some distance from the city, but within easy reach by train. The short branch line from the main line at Brookwood carried special trains for mourners using special tickets from Waterloo. The line did not survive the Secon World War due to its poor state.

This point marked the point at which my overlap from Day 1 to Day 2 finished and from here on I only completed the section once. The canal had levelled out for awhile after all the locks I had been past. It took on a gentler feel once again passing through woods and a few suburban houses on the edge of Brookwood. In the distance I could hear the rumble of the rush hour trains but all was peaceful on the canal itself. In fact apart from a bridge that I had to cross with heavy traffic, the whole section was like an oasis of calm passing through the madness of the M3 corridor.

The next road bridge was preceded by quite a large winding hole and someone had taken advantage of the extra space available by mooring a rather homemade but very new looking houseboat. It looked like quite the place to live! I swapped sides again at this point, having to cross yet another busy road. I later discovered though that I could have done so by going along the pavement on my side of the road and ducking under the bridge on the other side of the canal. A useful tip if the road is as busy as it was for my trip!

After ploughing along another wooded sectionbordered by some very nice looking houses I came upon St John’s village, which seemed to be a very attractive little place. Part of Kiln Bridge, which I had to cross to get back on the other side of the canal again, was built as a pill box. I’m not sure these looked terribly useful or easy to defend. Perhaps it was a good idea they were never put to the test! I passed down another flight of locks beyond Kiln Bridge and this section seemed to be a particularly popular spot for evening strollers and dog walkers, which meant that I couldn’t make the downhill sections really count for me which was a bit of a shame.

As I headed in towards Woking, boats started appearing on the canal once again. I had seen relatively few of them for awhile, perhaps as a result of the Pirbright locks being out of action. Alongside the canal were many more houses and the odd pub, which made full use of their location by having the beer garden overlook the water. The couple I passed looked very nice places to while away a summer evening and natter with friends over a pint.Woking itself soon became apparent when hi tech looking buildings started appearing on the canal side.In no time at all I was right in the town centre, passing by what looked like cathedrals of retail at the local shopping centre.It was rather surprising that the canal occupied a corridor that was so close to the heart of things.The railway, coming some years later, had to settle for a less convenient corridor. I was grateful to the Swingbridge Community Payback people for keeping this section maintained as it could very easily be vandalised and ruined by anti-socials, perhaps even the sorts of people doing the punishments!

The Woking stretch went surprisingly quickly and by now the canal had a more open feel about it as it passed less salubrious housing than is normal alongside, together with a very busy looking play area. I’ve got to be honest though, the canal was also getting far less interesting as it headed in towards London. The section between Woking and Shearwater rather passed me by and I was able to get up quite a lot of speed along this section as I wasn’t stopping every five seconds to look at something diverting!

At West Byfleet I descended another section of locks, not all of which were in great shape, before finally reaching the bottom of the descent from Odiham. The last section of the canal seemed to be home to a mixed bag of houseboats, some very attractive, others bordering on the derelict. Some were imaginatively decorated and built, while others were just slab sided and dull. It seemed like a proper community though, with gardens built on their side of the canal and the public definitely not welcome.Just past the boats was my final destination – the junction with the Wey Navigation and possibly another trip in the near future.Woodham Junction was rather an anti-climax however – it is all rather overshadowed by the monstrous M25 viaduct that passes overhead almost and the railway line that has been a constant companion.

Perhaps because of the London end of the canal it might be better to do the trip the opposite way round, although there is no denying the pleasure of cycling downhill through the locks! The Basingstoke Canal is delightful for just about its whole length and well worth a summer evening trip. Apparently it gets a bit muddy on the towpath during the winter so probably only worth a walking trip then. For serious cyclists, the whole thing could easily be managed in a day, but remember that there is a bit of a cycle from Greywell Tunnel to Hook, which is the nearest station. I might well have a go at doing the Wey Navigation soon – I have quite a taste for this kind of expedition!

The Basingstoke Canal Section One Greywell Tunnel to Ash Vale

2011-07-08T20:54:00.024+01:00

I admit it – I am a fair weather cyclist. During the summer months I actually prefer cycling to walking – it must be something to do with the wind in my face? These days my tolerance for cycling on the road is also very limited so I am on the lookout for trails off road that are not too taxing, offer a bit of history perhaps but definitely score highly on thescenery. I have looked at the Basingstoke Canal as a place that ticks all these boxes for some time now and a summer evening seemed the perfect time to go and have a look.

When faced with a linear route the vexing question is – which direction should I head? With the canal I was faced with the prospect of heading towards or away from London. I decided on starting at the country end for two main reasons – heading downstream always seems more natural and the sun would be behind me for the bulk of the trip!

The Basingstoke Canal was opened in 1794 at the height of ‘Canal Mania’. Sadly, as with so many of the canals that were built at the time, the Basingstoke Canal was not a huge commercial success and after a long slow decline it finally closed in 1932.It lay derelict for many years but was substantially reconstructed in the 1970s and 1980s until finally re-opening as a navigable waterway from the Wey Navigation to Greywell Tunnel, five miles short of its ultimate destination of Basingstoke.Sadly the tunnel hasn’t been restored and it is unlikely ever to be since it has partially collapsed inside.Its length (it’s one of the longest canal tunnels in Britain) and the fact that it now houses a large colony of bats has probably sealed its fate as being too difficult to restore. The five miles of canal to the west of Greywell Tunnel have largely been lost to neglect and redevelopment as a result.

The cycle ride along the towpath does not start at Basingstoke then, although I have heard that the determined explorer can retrace some of the old section on foot. I began my journey at the pretty little village of Greywell. This is a little off the beaten track public transport wise, but it is possible to reach here by bike from Hook Station in approximately 15 minutes. I discovered that although there are plenty of train services all along the line into London from Hook, there isn’t a through service from anywhere useful except Woking without changing trains. My original intention was to cycle the whole 32 miles in one go. This is certainly a relatively straightforward proposition, but I would suggest that if you do this, do it on your second or third trip, or give yourself the whole day. There is so much to see and absorb along the way that it would be a shame to rush things.

I parked in Greywell opposite the Fox and Goose pub, which I was delighted to see sported a Peter Oldrieve sign. The canal starts just a stone’s throw from the pub and for travellers coming in the opposite direction it certainly looks like a nice watering hole to quench a thirst at the end of the journey. Tucked away across the road is the path leading to Greywell Tunnel, almost hidden from view. I wheeled my bike onto the path, which thankfully opened out quite quickly. I could see ahead of me that the towpath below me was going to be quite busy, with several families walking and cycling already. The beginnings were quite narrow, which meant for a lot of stopping. At this rate I didn’t really expect to make very quick progress.

Greywell Tunnel on this June day was almost hidden with the lush vegetation that has grown up around the canal. The canal itself is only available for canoe traffic, with bigger boats prevented from getting this far by the vegetation that has been allowed to grow in the canal bed. I imagine this is probably deliberate so that boat owners are not tempted to explore the tunnel! Seeing any distance inside the tunnel from the bank was impossible because of the angle and the vegetation all around.

The first historical find along the canal was Odiham Castle, a ruin now of what was once King John’s stronghold. Used mostly as a hunting lodge, only the circular tower of the keep and a few earthworks remain and it is free to inspect directly from the canal bank. The old place had attracted quite a few families and casual walkers making use of the grounds as a picnic spot. Alongside the castle a family of swans had also taken up residence and the parents were seeing to quite a large number of cygnets, no more than a few weeks old.

Back to the canal and the next couple of miles skirted the village of North Warnborough, effectively a suburb of Odiham (the castle isn’t in the town). Due to the proximity of settlements there were a lot of people about, both cruising the canal on narrow boats but also plenty of other cyclists and walkers. Due to its flatness the towpath attracts the type of person I don’t normally come across in the countryside, such as young families with push chairs and disabled people with electric wheelchairs.Although it was slightly annoying at times to keep stopping for them, I stayed patient and remembered how positive it was that canal towpaths are available to so many groups trying to enjoy the countryside.

A long straight section came along just past North Warnborough and it was here that I became aware of the Odiham bypass and the roar of traffic. I was surprised at how intrusive it was, especially compared with my otherwise peaceful surroundings. The sun came out again too here, which was pleasing as for some time the weather had threatened to become just grey and overcast. Passing through thick woods for much of the next few miles it didn’t seem to matter a great deal whether the sun was out or not as the sky was blotted out by the fresh green foliage being sported by the trees alongside the canal.

The route from Odiham to Fleet is very winding.I think the canal company ran low on money by the time they constructed this section as it mostly follows the contours and there are no locks at all. It certainly runs a lot further than the crow flies!All along this part of the canal the bridges have been wonderfully restored and the canal bed is clearly of cruising quality, with many narrow boats moored along the way and a few that were actually in business too.A number of people had taken to canoeing along the canal, which struck me as a particularly fine way to see the route. As I got closer towards Fleet, I became aware that there were all sorts of concrete blocks lurking in the vegetation alongside the canal.It wasn’t immediately obvious what these might be,but I soon realised what they were when I passed by a half-hidden pill box. Of course they were tank traps! As with so many other waterways in the south of England, the Basingstoke Canal was employed to help out with the defensive capability of the country and slow the enemy down. Seeing these concrete blocks was a stark reminder of how close we came to needing this kind of stuff.

The countryside eventually gave way to town as I approached Fleet, by far the largest settlement I had yet encountered. The housing alongside the canal was discreet to begin with and barely noticeable, but as I got closer into town the housing came right up to the canalside. Many of these folk living alongside the canal were enthusiasts with small boats moored outside the bottom of their gardens. I wonder how many of these are used regularly?

A little further along and I came upon the unmistakable smell of hamburgers cooking. I wasn’t quite sure where the smell came from but soon discovered it when I passed by the very busy and popular looking Fox and Hounds pub, possibly a canal inn originally but now full of Saturday night families having a meal out. The hubbub from the pub soon passed and much of the canal towpath was quite well insulated from the town through which it passed for the rest of the time. At one point I broke off from the canal to look for a shop, but chose the wrong moment, for no opportunity yet existed.

Beyond two modern looking bridges that I later found out accommodated a roundabout the canal once again plunged into countryside. The surrounding area was rather different to what had gone before Fleet however, as the canal now entered the heathlands of north Hampshire and Surrey. The surrounding lush fields filled with livestock were replaced with pine trees, tracts of woodland and areas of open heather. This part of the country has been used for a variety of military uses over the years and the first reminder came shortly after when I passed by the airport of Farnborough.This was originally a military airport, but is now privately owned although the Air Accident Investigation Branch is still based there.It is most famous of course as the venue for the international airshow which is hosted there annually. Just beyond the airport the canal seems to boast a new mooring facility, still looking very new and shiny and probably only just completed!

I could tell that I was entering an area used extensively by the military, not just from the fencing alongside the canal, designed to ensure that foot traffic kept to the towpath, but also the increasing number of supremely fit men and women running along the towpath! The infrastructure for the previous uses of the canal also came into evidence now, with wharves and winding holes becoming more common.I suspect that many of the military establishments were once served with goods along the canal. In between squaddies I did manage a magical encounter with a young heron here.It was fishing for its dinner just across from me and appeared not to worry too much about my presence.I observed it for some time, steadily getting closer before it finally got spooked and flew off. This section of the canal is presumably well-known for its wildlife for Hampshire County Council had placed many interpretation boards at regular intervals explaining what the walker or cyclist could see along the way.

Once safely past the military stuff, the canal crosses the Blackwater Valley dual carriageway, which by-passes the towns of Aldershot and Farnborough. It was a little surreal walking across the aqueduct that was created for the purpose. The ambience of the canal is still very sedate, while below cars and lorries roar by at speeds that would have been unheard of by the builders of the canal. This section of the canal was characterised by the number of fishermen both on the canal itself and on adjacent lakes. There were lots of people settling down for the evening with their tents and picnics ready to while away the long hours between bites.

The Blackwater Valley is also a natural corridor for other transport routes and as well as crossing the motorway like road, I also passed by two very busy railway lines as well as a host of other busy roads as I entered Ash Vale. Once past the fishing lakes far below me (the canal crosses the valley on a fairly high embankment),I once again entered an area of housing. The canal itself was quite well wooded in places and many of the houses had some pretty substantial gardens. One in particular made me smile as the residents had strung up a hammock alongside the canal. I could think of fewer places that would be so good to relax and read a book! Other houses had a narrow boat moored at a private dock at the end of the garden. It must be lovely to get in and go when the mood takes you!

At the end of the built up section I passed under a bridge similar to the one I saw on the Grand Union Canal at Uxbridge where a pillbox had been built into the parapet. They do look curious and not terribly defendable – perhaps it was a good job they were never used in anger. A little further beyond and the canal opened out into a lake known as Greatbottom Flash – a lovely looking spot that was beloved of local birdlife. I assume this feature was put there to help with water storage and keep the canal flowing.

Just beyond Greatbottom Flash I came to Ash Vale station just behind a disused wharf. This is where I finish my write up this time, although for the record I did continue on to Brookwood, about 4 miles further on. However, in the fading light I didn’t get great pictures from that section, so I decided to duplicate that section when I came back to complete the route.

The Basingstoke Canal is a delightful trip and could easily be managed as a full day trip. At 32 miles it isn’t too far to cycle, but the route does not deserve to be hurried. Keep it slow and you will see plenty of wildlife and history along the way as well as taking in all the sights and sounds of a working canal. Train connections are pretty good, although be warned that to take a train from West Byfleet at the London end to Hook will almost certainly involve a change of train at Woking. Brookwood to Hook is direct, hence my reason to continue to that station. West Byfleet has a direct service to Ash Vale, hence the break of journey here. It doesn’t matter if you duplicate the section between Ash Vale and Brookwood, for it is probably the most scenic section of all, and you’ll be glad you did it twice!

Sussex Border Path Section 2 Emsworth and Stansted Park

2011-06-25T21:25:00.005+01:00

As is usual with summer months, I seem to have a lot of difficulty finding enough time to take a whole day to go walking and so this year I have decided to try and help myself by undertaking the Sussex Border Path in stages but by circular walks rather than the usual point to point walks that I normally do. I though this would be the best way of tackling the path since many of the suggested staging points do not have public transport links to each other, which would mean some very lengthy and convoluted trips.

The Sussex Border Path is highly unusual in that it follows the rather man-made county boundary of this historic kingdom (Sussex is a shortened name for Kingdom of the South Saxons). Since I have already completed the coastal walk it seems natural for me to complete my circumnavigation of my home county in order to get to know it better. I am particularly intrigued about the northern boundary since this is a part of the County that I do not know very well.

The first part of the Sussex Border Path is a circumnavigation of Thorney Island and having completed this as part of my coast walk I wasn’t especially keen to do this section again, especially as I didn’t really want to walk through the military base again. Instead I decided to move onto the next section to the north of Emsworth. I identified a circuit that would include the Sussex Border Path as far as Stansted Park, returning via through the estate and past the big house, passing Racton Monument before returning to Emsworth through Westbourne village.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning and I had managed to rouse myself out of bed super early, so that I was ready to start walking at around 7.30am. I parked to the north of the town centre in Emsworth and wandered through Brook Meadow nature reserve before getting on to the official path. This wetland area was full of pungent smelling cow parsley, butterflies and dragonflies all out in force. The stream running through is apparently a favourite haunt of local water voles although to be fair I didn’t actually spot any this time.

At the far end of the nature reserve I crossed under the main Coastway railway line through a rather cavernous and dark tunnel like bridge. At the other side I passed by a field and then under the A27 by-pass, which couldn’t be more different from the railway crossing. This was incredibly brightly lit, preposterously so really! Once past the A27 I entered a field full of cows and buttercups and headed towards the pointy spire of Westbourne Church. Halfway across the field, almost buried in the undergrowth was a very strange looking pillbox, the likes of which I had not seen before. It was quite a large one with extra rifle holes and a second protecting wall on the outside. I had a good look round before moving on.

At the main road at the end of the field I was slightly disappointed to be turning left and not walking past the church that I had been heading for. What followed was a bit of road walking to position myself a bit for Emsworth Common some distance ahead. When I eventually turned off the road, I spotted a fox in the field adjacent to me. We had an encounter that seemed to last forever as the two of us sussed each other out across the fence. I knew that I would have to be extra specially careful to get my camera out without freaking the poor chap out. No matter how gentle I was I failed dismally as he turned and fled at the first hint of me doing something out of the ordinary.

After wandering alongside some more suburban looking houses I eventually left the built up part of Emsworth far behind and entered…wood. As it was still pretty early in the morning the woods were alive with the sound of birdsong, a sound that always gladdens my heart! The first part of the woodland was quite short and I soon came across the busy Emsworth Common Road. The official path continues along this road eastwards for awhile but I decided to cross and use a couple of unofficial looking paths so that I could avoid the otherwise necessary road walking.It did the job perfectly, but I had to keep my wits about me to ensure that I didn’t get horribly lost in the woods. The worst part about my route was that I suddenly felt quite wet and realised that I had been slimed by cuckoo spit, which was everywhere around me and difficult to avoid!

The onward path across the forest when I had regained the official route was delightful. Underfoot was a very well surfaced path and clearly defined, while the trees above me got taller and taller as I proceeded northwards. Eventually I left the woods to find myself walking between large fields of pretty mature looking crops. It was surprising how much these had come on in the three weeks since my last outing on the Isle of Wight.

I passed through a couple of farms that were a bit heavy on the disused equipment and abandoned vehicles. In fact I am surprised that with the price of scrap metal these days that the farm owners had made seemingly no attempt to sell off this stuff. In the garden was a large tepee which was being offered as a place to stay. All rather interesting! The path worked its way around a couple of very large fields and woodland edges before pitching up at The Avenue, a lengthy avenue of trees that formed a memorable walk to Stansted House.

By now the sun was getting pretty hot and the cloud was beginning to bubble up a little after what had been a very promising start to the day. Every so often the sun would go behind a cloud and create a little shade, which was very welcome as I walked along a decidedly hot stretch of path down The Avenue. As I approached the house the path took a circular route around at a safe distance, which allowed me to get a good look at the old place. The house is not the original as this burned to the ground back in 1900, but is an Edwardian house built on the exact footprint of the original. Since 1983 it has been owned by a charitable trust and is open to the public during the summer season.

I headed off further east to a country road where I eventually looped around to another rather more surprising place – Racton Monument. This rather spooky looking tower partially hidden in the trees is an enigmatic place. It was built in 1772 although no-one is quite sure of what it was built for and its future is decidedly shaky too. It has been subject to various plans to turn it into a dwelling, which is what the present owner would like to do with it.Sadly though it is being left to decay and is covered in graffiti while the owner tries to get planning permission and finances together to sort it out once and for all. Standing at the foot of it, I couldn’t help but think that nature might get there first! It is undoubtedly one of the strangest places I have ever seen.

Having had a good poke around Racton Monument I started to head back towards Stansted House along a tree line path with views out towards the Solent and Langstone Harbour to the south. It was a very pleasant walk and by now there were plenty of people about as it was heading in towards late morning. I threaded my way through the countryside, past the Brickkiln Ponds (I wonder how they got their names?) and down towards Westbourne Village once again. The last stretch of path was rather unpleasant as I had to cross a deeply pitted field, created by horses hooves in the clay that had now dried out following the dry weather we have been having.

Westbourne Village is a delightful place, with a plethora of old style buildings from all sorts of eras alongside each other. It was also very well off for public houses, explaining why perhaps The Good Intent had recently fallen by the wayside. Another, The George and Dragon was now a doctor’s surgery of all things! I smiled at the irony. I made my way down towards the church where I left the road behind once more, following instead a canal leat that once serviced a local mill. It was a delightful walk, although the original purpose of the leat was now impossible due to the vegetation that had grown up all along its length. I passed a field of alpacas that looked very out of place in such pastoral surroundings but which seemed to arouse a good deal of interest among the growing numbers of Sunday strollers I was no encountering.

Further on I crossed the busy A27, this time over rather than under. The other side of the road provided quite a surprise after the roar of the traffic died down a little. The path took me through the grounds of Lumley Mill, a fabulous old building, lovingly restored and converted into living quarters. Yet there was no mistaking its origins as a watermill. It was a fine sight to end the day’s walking for a little further on I reunited with the path that I had taken earlier in the morning to make my way back to the car.

For me this was a fascinating ramble through a corner of Sussex that is completely new to me. Challenging the walk wasn’t but with such interesting history almost everywhere you turn, it didn’t seem to be important how challenging the walk was! This took me a little over three hours to complete and I was home by lunchtime!

Ryde to Cowes Railway

2011-06-16T21:03:00.020+01:00

I have to confess that I did not ride my bike all the way from Ryde to Cowes, but I did travel along a substantial part of the line on two wheels and in a train! The former Ryde to Cowes railway line was the last of the Isle of Wight railways to succumb to closure in 1966. It has had mixed fortunes since. Originally a group of enthusiasts took over Newport station, once the major interchange station on the island, with a view to keeping the whole line open. With this objective they unfortunately failed, but did succeed in keeping a section of the line open from Smallbrook Junction (just south of Ryde)to Wootton Bridge (about two miles from Newport). The whole section through Newport was lost when the local Council redeveloped the line into a by-pass. The onward section to Cowes fared better though, becoming a cycle path from just north of Newport alongside the River Medina.

After my trips along the other lines earlier in the day I rather fancied a bit of rest and so it seemed like a very good idea to take a trip on the preserved steam railway forming the first part of the originally closed line. This is a really enjoyable trip behind examples of the small steam locomotives that provided the motive power and in the old vintage coaches that lasted right until the end.

Smallbrook Junction is a rather odd place, being a railway interchange of sorts, between the London Underground trains on the Ryde to Shanklin line and the Isle of Wight Steam Railway. The trains seem to wait patiently for each other, maintaining the sense of a proper service. Indeed there have been suggestions that the remaining network might end up being operated by the enthusiasts and the existing steam railway extended into Newport and (rather more fancifully) onto Cowes once again. Even the option of restoring the Ventnor link has been looked at, which would restore the railways back to their 1960s state.

The train journey from Smallbrook Junction to Wootton Bridge is delightful and especially today with so many spring flowers adorning the woods. The bluebells in particular were in full bloom and it was a real pleasure to see the flash of purple through the trees. Ashey station is the first on the line and still functions for the steam railway although this is focused on the passing loop for the original station, as the station building is now an attractive private house on the other side of the line and not available for railway use.

A little further on is Havenstreet which is now the headquarters of the line and a far cry from the original wayside halt that was once all that served the local community. Now there are engine and carriage sheds as well as all the visitor facilities you might expect at a preserved railway. Eventually I got to Wootton which is not the original station (closed in 1953), but the present end of the line where it is blocked by a local road. This is where I started cycling.

The road bridge which once existed at this spot is long gone, being filled in many years ago. This means that cyclists get a good head start on the journey to Newport, which a long downhill stretch to get you going. The track starts out very well, with a good surface and through a fairly thick wood. I am not sure how good the surface is after wet weather but during the dry weather in April it wasn’t a problem. After a short distance I came upon a bridge over the line that has obviously been recently restored and suggesting that this stretch of line has a real future as a cycle trail (or dare I say it – being brought back into railway use?).I then had to cross a main road at level, never a pleasant experience especially when the road is as busy as this one seemed to be.

The line continued downhill alongside a fairly hefty looking pipeline until the official route suddenly bore right. I noticed that the onward path continued although wasn’t a cycle route so I decided to see how far it would go (this is as it happens a public footpath, so no worries about trespassing). I soon became aware of a platform to one side of me and was surprised that this was a station that I hadn’t known had existed before. The station house was still intact and used as a house (although quite well concealed from nosy cameras!).It turned out this station was Whippingham and was apparently built for Queen Victoria as the nearest place that a train could get to Osbourne House.Given its very remote location, even after it opened for public use, very few passengers ever used it and it succumbed to closure in 1953 along with most of the intermediate stations on this route.

The path along the old line soon deteriorated to the point where cycling was quite difficult. Just as I was thinking that I might yet make it all the way to Newport, I came across a rather immovable problem when I encountered a bridge over a road that still had its frame in place but none of its decking. Any thoughts of continuing were dashed therefore and onward progress to Newport would have to be along the official route along the A3054.

There isn’t much left of the onward trackbed through Newport just a little further on, although a small tunnel just before the bypass. This is still in use as a subway, the only tangible remains of what was once an important and busy stretch of line.

The line to Cowes can be picked up once again just to the north of Newport on the edge of an industrial estate. There is a small car park, which I took advantage of (not wanting to ride too far along roads, which I find a bit scary!) just at the end of the trail. This is one of the original cycle routes along an old railway and the 4 miles or so from here to Cowes was utterly delightful. The River Medina is rather a different kind of river to the Yar that I had visited earlier, but was no less fascinating, full as it was of river boats and various other traffic. The cycle route was also extremely popular, with dozens of people charging backwards and forwards along the former rail line.I often think that these lines are probably more popular as cycle routes than they ever were as railways!

The first engineering feature of the line is not far from Newport and is a fairly lengthy low viaduct over a tributary of the Medina. Its survival is a small miracle and it has happily been restored from the treacherous crossing it once was when the cycle route opened. Just past here the old cement works, which was served by a small works halt is now being redeveloped into into some large industrial units. A little further along the route and a surprising sight comes into view. Across the Medina is the rusting remains of the former paddle steamer Ryde, looking very forlorn and seemingly beyond repair after her funnel collapsed some years ago. A former life as a nightclub came to an end over 20 years ago and she is now slowly deteriorating.Apparently all is not lost though as some enthusiasts are trying desperately to save the old vessel before she is well and truly past it.

As I headed towards Cowes glimpses through the trees showed ever bigger collections of yachts along the river. Although it was a very pleasant ride there is little evidence that this was once a railway at all. There was an odd bridge that had been partially demolished, but anything of note has been pretty much swept away.

The path eventually winds up at the edge of a housing estate on the edge of Cowes. If I was really determined to look further apparently some remains of the old tunnel that took the line into Cowes station can still be seen, but by now the light was beginning to fade a little and I was anxious to get to my ferry which was due in about an hour and a half. I figured that a quick ride without stopping wouldn’t take long and in this I was right, arriving back in Newport in a little over 20 minutes.

In terms of a through route this is a bitty section, although I would definitely recommend a ride on the steam railway as an authentic experience of what rail travel on the island must have once been like. The section from Newport to Cowes is highly recommended, especially on a spring or summer evening when I did it. The light was superb and even the large numbers of users of the line wasn’t particularly offputting.

The Perowne Way (Newport to Sandown Cycle Path)

2011-06-09T21:44:00.018+01:00

This former railway line is the longest continuous stretch of cycle path on the island, the route being preserved almost in its entirety apart from a couple of sections that are now in private hands and unavailable for recreational use. There are no official parking areas at either end of the line, although I did manage to get a space on the road at the northern edge of the route before the line disappears into the built up area of Newport and is untraceable. This unbeknownst to me at the time is almost the exact spot of the former Shide station, the first stop heading south out of Newport.

This line was operated by the Isle of Wight Central Railway and was completed in 1875. It fared a little better than the Freshwater line, staying in business until 1956 until it too succumbed to closure after stiff competition from buses and private cars. Journey times on the line couldn’t have been very quick, for there were quite a lot of stations on the seven mile section of route. The ferry arriving at Cowes also dropped passengers on the wrong side of the River Medina, meaning that the railway’s natural clientele of tourists from the mainland would have probably opted for Ryde as their port of entry, depriving this line of many of its passengers.

Shide station is no more and the National Tyre Centre on the opposite side of the road from the beginning of the cycle path occupies the site, having been built shortly after closure and demolition. The trackbed is obliterated by the now diverted River Medina, a final ignominy to the former line. No trace of the line exists between here and the former Newport station, with overgrowth and development taking care of any part of the line to the north.

The initial going on the route is through a tree lined path alongside the babbling River Medina, by now a tiny version of the River that forms a big gash down the centre of the island. While the surroundings were lovely, the same cannot be said of the surface of the path through the woods, which was rather loose and dusty. The path continued for about a mile in this vein, with signage alongside encouraging walkers and cyclists to take in their surroundings, showing them the kinds of species they could be looking out for.This trail forms part of the Sustrans network (NCN23) and these trails are well known for trying to maximise tourist potential in this way. At least they tried hard to maintain interest in a part of the route that would otherwise have been a tree lined tunnel.

At Blackwater, the old station is still somewhat intact although the house is considerably larger than the original building, having been extended over what was the old platform. The cycle path takes a small detour off the route of the railway, but follows as close to the edge of the now privately owned station as possible. Considering how few houses there still are in the vicinity, traffic must have been very light at this station when it was operating.Should the line still be here the necessary level crossing would cause some considerable congestion, for my crossing of the road in front of the station was very difficult.On the other side of the road the line continues in the same vein to begin with, before dispensing with the trees after a short stretch.This made for more enjoyable cycling as I could now get a feel for how the countryside looked around me.

As I was getting into my stride I had an unpleasant surprise ahead. The trackbed is unavailable south of Blackwater for more than a mile and I had to follow an adjacent farm track. Although disappointing this did not prove to be too bad though and it wasn’t long before I regained the trackbed. Ironically I could see the trackbed the whole time on the other side of the field and so I didn’t really miss out on any of the scenery. Having rejoined the line, it was pretty unremarkable going until I reached the former country junction station of Merstone.This unlikely place for a junction station still has a platform in situ and now houses a car park for cyclists to unload their bikes and explore! Formerly the station acted as an interchange for trains heading to Ventnor and Ventnor! Not as crazy as it sounds; the two lines actually went to different stations in the southernmost town on the Island by different routes. The more direct route was to Ventnor West, a rather inconvenient station at the western edge of town and quite a walk from the town centre. The other line went to Ventnor via Sandown and Shanklin. The direct line from here succumbed to closure as early as 1952, the first line on the island to do so. It was also the last to open, in 1900. It is now almost completely off-limits to walkers or cyclists & mostly overgrown.

My route eastwards though has been beautifully restored and provides possibly the best section of the whole route for the next quarter of a mile or so. Apparently the cutting that the route passes through was once infilled but re-excavated in 2002 to complete the trail. With the excavation is the only overbridge on the entire route (in fact one of only two I saw all day!). The next mile or so was very empty of traffic – I had the whole path to myself as it negotiated its way through the clay vale between the two ridges of the chalk spine of the island on one side and the massive bulk of St Lawrence Down on the other.

The route came to a sudden halt at a metal gate, from where I had to take a boardwalk detour away from the trackbed. A little further on I came to a surprisingly busy road, although thankfully controlled by a puffin crossing which made life a lot easier. Behind a large hedge adjacent to the road is the former station of Horringford (see pictures at Horringford of how it used to look). The old place isn’t that easy to see now due to the vegetation that has grown up. I headed onwards, along a pretty straight section, with only farm animals for company for some time. I got a few glances from the cattle but a field of llamas paid no attention to me. I wonder what folk from the 1950s would have made of them?

The next station at Newchurch hadn’t been so lucky as Horringford. No trace of the station now exists, and the site is now occupied by a bungalow, ironically called Newchurch Crossing. Apparently a length of platform still exists in the garden but otherwise it is very difficult to imagine a railway ever came this way at all (for pictures of how it once looked see Newchurch). Further on the farm animals were replaced by a Christmas tree farm – they certainly know how to diversify on the island! A little way past and on the way to the next former station the line was joined by a very rusty looking stream. Although not the most pleasant of companions, it did pave the way for perhaps the most enjoyable section of the route so far through woodland that was fast sprouting into leaf on this April afternoon.Reminders of the railway were also evident as the route crossed some rusty looking but still very serviceable bridges across small rivers.

Alverstone station a little further ahead, also seemed to serve a non-existent community. With the sparsely populated countryside there must have been very little intermediate traffic on this route, perhaps explaining why it was among the first wave of closures in the 1950s. The station building though survives as a private house and was up for sale when I passed (offers in excess of £300,000 at Alverstone Station). Given more time I would have arranged a viewing just for a nose around! Looking at the blurb, I doubt that the estate agent even knows it was a station as no mention is made of its former status. They probably should – they would almost certainly have more takers then! Pictures of the station in its heyday can be found at Alverstone

The last mile into Sandown wasn’t so interesting and the surface of the path was very bumpy. I passed through another nature reserve where some attempt had been made to entice people in for picnics etc by putting some information boards and a few sculptures. It had attracted one couple, but given that it was the day before the Easter weekend it was all eerily devoid of people. AT the edge of Sandown perhaps inevitably the path petered out alongside a caravan park and no trace of the line can now be seen between the edge of the built up area and Sandown station a little further on.

Sandown Station is still in business – one of only eight still operating on the island from a network that once boasted over 35. However, it is a shadow of its former self being rationalised several times. The entrance was rather interesting though, with images of the old railway system etched into concrete by school kids or so it looked. I waited for a train to come along as one was due. The slightly incongruous sight of a 1939 vintage ex London Underground train rattled in. These old museum pieces maintain the tradition on the island of all the rolling stock being reused from elsewhere. Now only 2 cars each, they maintain a service of sorts but for how long? The old problem of limited clearance at Ryde tunnel will probably mean that they are replaced by more ex-tube stock at some point, unless the steam railway people at Wootton Bridge manage to put together a service based on their steam fleet. Now that would be a spectacle!

For me, I had other lines to explore and so I headed back along the railway path back to Shide. Barely pausing on the way back the return journey took only about an hour! This is probably the most satisfying of the railway rides on the island, principally because of its length. I cannot say that it was anything like as picturesque as the line from Yarmouth to Freshwater though.

Freshwater and Yarmouth Railway Path

2011-05-31T20:48:00.015+01:00

The Isle of Wight is a haven for railway path walking and cycling, partly as a sad result of the wholesale closures of the 1950s and 1960s, but also the thinking of local authorities who managed to preserve at least some of each of the closed lines for recreational use. Since most of the sections of line are relatively short, I had considered a day of exploration covering several lines for a long time.

The first of the lines that I visited on the day was the former Freshwater and Yarmouth line. This independently built railway was eventually closed in 1953, having been run on a shoestring since it was first constructed through the sparsely populated western part of the Island. Given the time that has passed since its closure, it is something of a miracle that any of it has survived but the 3 mile section of trackbed between Yarmouth and Freshwater stations has been a popular cycle path for a good many years. Fortunately this is perhaps also the most scenic part of the railway following the banks of the tidal estuary of the River Yar for much of its length.

The original railway was a 12 mile branch line from Newport, the main town on the island, and was opened for traffic in 1889. Histories of the line and pictures are available at http://www.shalfleet.net/steve/fyn.htm and http://www.disused-stations.org.uk/graphics/wight/iow_station_index.htm .

The line always had a chequered history, mostly associated with sparse traffic and sailed close to bankruptcy until British Rail finally gave up on it in 1953. After closure and perhaps because of its rural nature, most of the line became absorbed into the countryside as part of farmers fields, while several of the station buildings were recycled into new uses. Between Newport and Yarmouth, very little of the line can be traced although determined relic hunters can still find the odd bridge intact. There are a couple of short walkable sections of the old trackbed at Wellow and Watchingwell but these are disconnected and could not be construed as forming any reasonable railway path.

The part of the railway path that is available for use begins on the B3401 just outside Bouldnor. There is a parking area alongside the road, although spaces are limited and I suspect very popular during the summer. I parked around the corner in the public car park, which is free. The rail line begins abruptly just north of Thorley Bridge. Any trace of the line eastwards has been completely absorbed within the garden of a large property on the opposite side of the road. I assume that there would once have been a road bridge here due to the height differential between road and rail, but any trace of this has also disappeared entirely.

Heading westwards though the story is different, with their being a well maintained path through the reeds of Rofford Marsh. The railway origins of the path are not at all obvious to begin with, but that all changes after half a mile or so when the former Yarmouth station is reached. Against the odds the old station has survived and is currently used as a youth centre. It is well maintained and is in remarkably original condition. It would be easy to imagine waiting on the platform for a train to arrive, although none have actually stopped for passengers for nearly sixty years (almost as long as the station was open for traffic!).

The line now changes direction as it reaches the formidable obstacle of the River Yar, heading alongside this very attractive tidal estuary. As the line swings away from the small town of Yarmouth, the station’s inconvenience at the edge of town can be appreciated although it was probably still the station generating the most traffic. It is hard to believe, but the railway company had originally had ambitious plans to connect the line via a 2.5 mile tunnel to the mainland at Lymington from here.These plans obviously came to nought and passengers had to rely instead on the ferry service across to the Hampshire port instead (as they still do!). Looking across to the estuary just past the station a large tidal mill building is still intact although inevitably now private housing rather than any industrial use. Just across from the mill is an old railway carriage now serving as a home. Its vintage isn’t known but is almost certainly from one of the three original railway companies that ran the network on the island. I suspect that the carriage dates from Victorian times, judging by its appearance.

Initially on the route south the old line runs through open estuary fringe with extensive views across the water, albeit through the reedbeds. It is a section of line remarkably similar to the Hayling Billy, although the surface is much smoother and more cycle friendly. After a short stretch the line then enters some very pretty woodland and it was easy to see why the closure of the line was fiercely opposed.Sadly, in these early days of railway closures very few protests were listened to. If the line were running now it would undoubtedly be a very popular tourist attraction, for it is very scenic.In the early spring sunshine the woodland was beginning to wake from its winter slumber and many of the leaves and blossom were out in full force. In a couple of places it was possible to head down to the water’s edge and look out across the estuary and to the attractive church of Freshwater beyond.

Once I had passed by the woodland, I passed another surviving railway building, the crossing keepers cottage at Freshwater. Once there would have been a level crossing across the road known as the Causeway controlled by the crossing keeper. Now the cottage is just another attractive house with its origins almost forgotten. At the adjacent bridge across the River Yar, its flow lessens considerably and is almost lost entirely within the reeds.

The path continues on for approximately half a mile until coming to an abrupt left hand turn. This is the point at which the railway line path stops; the line would once have continued onward into Freshwater station just beyond the fence. The site is now occupied by a garden centre and Co-op store. The only clue of its existence is the aptly named ‘End of the Line’ café, which even has some station awning as decoration to the outside of the building. As a station, the location of Freshwater was very inconvenient for any of the local attractions being too far from the beach at Freshwater Bay or The Needles, almost two miles distant. Considering these were the markets that the railway company had hoped to tap into it was probably no wonder that the line was doomed to failure.

For me this was the point at which I retraced my ride back to Bouldnor, but walkers could make a circular route by heading by road to Freshwater Church and then continue along the other side of the estuary via the waymarked Freshwater Bay and thence by coast path through Yarmouth back to the start point. As an introduction to railway cycling on the Isle of Wight this section of line whetted my appetite for the longest of the routes, the Perowne Trail which follows the former Newport to Sandown route. It was here that I headed next!

London LOOP Section 12 Cockfosters - Chingford

2011-05-23T20:06:00.025+01:00

Considering that I am now trying to complete the sections of the London LOOP furthest from home I reckoned that the next official section from Cockfosters to Enfield Lock was rather too short at only 8.5 miles and looked therefore for another finishing point. I reckoned that extending to Chingford would be a better bet, making for a 13 mile walk instead. The spring weather was continuing to hold steady and it seemed necessary to take advantage while I could!

The outward journey was far from easy, taking a considerable time to get from Worthing to Chingford due to the early morning traffic in East London. I found a convenient place to park just across the way from the train station at a point that I expected to finish the walk later on the common. When I made enquiries at the station on the best fare available to get to Cockfosters I was encouraged to buy an Oyster Card, a useful little facility I had never thought about before. This I did for the rather convoluted trip changing twice at Walthamstow Central and then again at Finsbury Park. It took about an hour to get to Cockfosters.

I had been looking forward to this section of the walk, courtesy of a work colleague who had waxed lyrical about Trent Park, the first notable place I would visit today. When I emerged at Cockfosters I immediately noticed how different the stages of spring were here in North London compared to my time in Cornwall. All the horse chestnut trees seemed to be out in full bloom, seemingly about three weeks ahead of schedule. They provided a beautiful avenue of trees alongside a largish cemetery, a rather auspicious start to the walk I thought…

The path then wound around some woodland before getting to Trent Park properly. The park was busy with Easter holiday families enjoying the warm spring sunshine but the café was too good to miss. I picked up some sandwiches and headed on through the park, making my way through woodlands dotted with bluebells (no carpets here such as the woods near where I live). Eventually I came upon the lakes at the centre of the park and decided that this was as good a place as any to have my lunch. While I ate my sandwiches I was amused by the industry of a local coot, swimming backwards and forwards across the lake fetching and carrying good bedding materials for its nest.

Eventually I summoned up the energy to get going and wandered up through the parkland away from the main house that the park was once associated with. This is now a campus of Middlesex University, but today there were only glimpses of the architecture as the leaves were starting to come in on all the trees in front. The rest of the park was lovely and fresh looking, with leaves all starting to react to the warmth of the sun. I think that virtually all of them came out during the day!

The end of the park was fairly obvious, when I reached a rather unwelcome busy road. Fortunately I only had to cross and not walk along. As I crossed I became aware of a very large obelisk on the edge of the woods. I later found out that it was brought here by the former owner of Trent Park, Sir Philip Sassoon, in 1934 from another park to impress the Duke and Duchess of Kent who were staying at the time. The obelisk has also featured in an episode of Dr Who, although one from 1982 rather than the more recent incarnation of the programme.

Once across the road I really felt like I had left London behind completely as the path continued around some fields full of crops. All unremarkable stuff but pleasant nonetheless, especially as the waft of spring flowers and blossom helped complete the scene. Rather better than the smell of exhaust fumes and industry! At the foot of the slope down from the road I met the small stream of Salmon’s Brook. This was barely a trickle and yet had had enough energy to carve itself something of a valley, which the LOOP used to get along to Gordon Hill. Away on the horizon was the curiously named Botany Bay, named after the Australian outpost rather than the other way around. Apparently it was remote enough from London to acquire the name, which has stuck ever since! They were the only houses I could see; a remarkable feat considering I was still firmly in the London Borough of Enfield.

Eventually I came upon yet another main road at Cuckolds Hill. Initially the path did its best not to dump me on the pavement and tracked the road, but eventually I was required to walk alongside the traffic until reaching the Royal Chase Hotel, a rather sumptuous looking place and not the type that walkers would normally frequent. I escaped from the traffic down a very rutted concrete road to Rectory Farm. The farm looked like it had fallen on hard times for many of the outbuildings were derelict and the yard was a dumping ground for old machinery and assorted junk. It was a farm that looked like it probably would a developers dream, although its inclusion in the green belt may have been partly responsible for its dereliction.

By now I was starting to get a bit hot and bothered in the afternoon sun and was pleased when at Clay Hill I got some respite when the path dived down into some more woodland. I rounded a very attractive looking cricket pitch that will surely have been in business within days of my passing and then back down into the valley of Turkey Brook that I had met briefly at Rectory Farm. The character of the walk had completely changed in less than half a mile from open agricultural countryside to tended parkland for I had now entered Hilly Fields Park. My ears pricked up as I wandered through the park, for it was here that I heard the first cuckoo of spring, always an exciting moment. Strangely I have never seen one of these birds after all these years of listening out for them!

The path through Hilly Fields Park was slightly annoying in that it did not follow the course of the stream all the way, choosing at one point to climb away from it before returning down towards the Rose and Crown pub. I wasn’t sure of the reason for this, but it could have had something to do with the superior views gathered of the picturesque pub and also a rather out of place looking bandstand stood by the stream in the valley below.

Once past the Rose and Crown the path continued alongside the Turkey Brook although its surroundings were no longer parkland but less manicured countryside. I passed the rather odd cut of the ‘New River’ a watercourse originally designed to carry drinking water into London, but now just a forgotten relic. The path continued along through woodland until it came to some very attractive fishing lakes that were apparently once the fishponds for Elsynge Hall, a fashionable house for Elizabethan gentry and allegedly the setting for the famous moment when Sir Walter Raleigh put his cape down over a puddle so that Queen Elizabeth wouldn’t have to get her feet wet. The house has long since disappeared, having been demolished as long ago as 1660.

Once past the lake I headed up towards a more modern house of note, that of Forty Hall built by Inigo Jones in 1636. This is an architectural gem, but alas my detour today was rather in vain as the whole house was encased in scaffolding and I was very disappointed. All the facilities boasted here were also closed including the café and toilets, although the grounds were thronged with people still having a good time. I headed back to the path and met with the Turkey Brook once again at Maidens Bridge, a rather attractive brick built bridge. The path crossed and re-crossed the Turkey Brook at this point in order to move forward.

After all my countryside walking today I had to contend with urban walking for the next three miles or so as I had now reached Enfield Lock. After crossing the new course of the New River which passed unseen through some pretty large looking tunnels I then crossed the very busy A10 a little further on by means of a footbridge. This looked over yet another cemetery, this time full of cherry trees now sporting their big puffy looking pink blossoms. This would be the last greenery I would see for awhile as I headed through the built up area of Enfield Lock. This wasn’t a particularly pleasant part of the walk – Enfield Lock is hardly the most salubrious part of London although to be fair it wasn’t the worst section either and it did give me the chance to top up with refreshment.

The main problem with Enfield Lock was the rubbish. The poor old Turkey Brook, which had been my companion for some time now was choked with rubbish and one delivery agent had decided that the best place for his pizza flyers were in the stream, which defaced a significant length beside the recreation grounds on the other side. A lonely looking mandarin duck, complete with its colourful and regal looking plumage looked like it was really slumming it in such surroundings!

After passing the second of the stations in this area things began to perk up when I reached Enfield Lock on the Lea Navigation, after which this area was named. Any thoughts of the delightful section of canal that I had walked along near Uxbridge were soon dashed. The lock keepers house was derelict looking and a rather nasty looking nightclub type establishment alongside was in a very sorry state indeed. Its name, Rifles, was obviously in recognition of the former works here which produced the famous Lee Enfield Rifle. There is little trace of the works visible from the LOOP and any thoughts of following the canal were quickly squashed when the path changed direction a few hundred metres further on.

My route followed the River Lea feeder channel, part of an extensively engineered section of this river. It wasn’t unpleasant but didn’t have anything like the same interest level that a canal would have with its narrow boats and beautiful engineering. Soon I was to leave the waterway behind entirely and cross the Sewardstone Nature Reserve, a rather dull place only notable for the many mileage signs and expensive looking all-weather walking surface.

As I reached another road the guide book told me to look out for a path leaving to cross fields opposite a pub known as the Royal Oak. Well the pub sign was there, but the pub had long gone! It had now been replaced by a housing estate, so watch out if you are using the official directions! After the built up area it felt good to be out in proper countryside once again and the path headed uphill for the first time in seemingly ages! By now the miles under my feet were beginning to tell and I felt proper tired when I reached the top (more than 100 in a week!). I was compensated though by the view behind me across the Lea Valley and the drinking water reservoirs that dominate the scene. Away in the distance I could once again see Canary Wharf, suggesting that I was once again heading back towards the Thames.

The onward piece of countryside was delightful with rolling hills dominating this particular part of the green belt. I passed by a recently restored Carrols Farm, which I didn’t recognise as the rickety sounding farm described in the guide book. Shortly after I came upon Gilwell Park, the centre of Scouting in the UK. Strangely, although growing up as a Scout and even doing some time as a leader, I had never been here before. Of course now that I have no links with the movement I guess I had no business looking anywhere beyond the front gate, although it was tempting!

The last stretch of walk was probably the most enjoyable for scenery as the path found its way through some delightful woodland, remnants of the once more extensive Epping Forest. Truth be told though it was all rather wasted on me as it had been a long day and I was a bit hot and bothered. My feet were also yelling at me to stop – they were sore after carrying me so many miles in such a short space of time. I was relieved to get back to the car park and even more relieved when I saw the ice cream van that had been there when I left in the morning! I had a lemon sorbet cone, which I didn’t expect a lot from but was absolutely heavenly!

This is a section of LOOP that is pleasant but doesn’t reach the heights of other sections earlier. The trip from one end to the other by public transport is fairly convoluted but despite the two changes didn’t seem too lengthy. There are various refreshment stops on the way, but it was hard to beat the one in Trent Park for its setting, although it was rather less middle class than I expected! At 13 miles it weighs in a bit further than previous sections, but isn’t too onerous. Only 26 miles left from here…