Rye and Camber Tramway Trail

Golf Club Halt

A little known lost railway in Sussex is the former Rye and Camber Tramway, which operated for 44 years as a passenger service from 1895 until the outbreak of World War II.  At that point the railway passed into military hands for use with the PLUTO project designed to supply the front line troops for the D Day landings.  Sadly the state it was returned to the owners in meant that it was no longer in a fit state to carry passengers and it was therefore closed for good as the cost of renewing the track was prohibitive.  Yet, at its height this remarkable railway carried as many as 18000 passengers during a six month period.  Designed and built by the famous light railway builder Colonel Holman Stephens, the railway ran for about three miles from the eastern edge of Rye to a rather inconvenient location at the western edge of Camber.  It was intended to carry passengers to the seaside, but also to a nearby golf club for which an intermediate station was built.

End of the Track

As with many Colonel Stephens’ railways, the line was built on a shoestring and this rather contributed to its untimely end.  It also meant that once gone, few reminders of its existence still remain.  Yet, remarkably despite all this most of the trackbed is still available for walking and I had decided quite awhile ago that it would make for an interesting return journey from my final leg along the Sussex Coast.  I did the journey in reverse of most travellers, who usually originated from Rye.  Apparently most travellers actually got off to play a round of golf so it was only the hardiest of passengers that continued on to Camber for the delights of the seaside.  I hope that the terrain was rather different then, for the sand dunes now hide the original site of the station at Camber and no trace remains of the old terminus.  The path itself is not so easy to find from this end of the track but eventually I found it nestled among the sand dunes near to the coastguard cottages at the western end of town.

Site of Former Terminus

The first few hundred metres of the path crosses the furthest extent of the golf course that the tramway served, although I believe this part is a later addition and wasn’t part of the course then.  Some of the holes looked quite interesting, being squeezed in between the sand dunes and in one case being protected by its very own pillbox!  At first I thought it very surprising that there were so few golfers around, given that it was a lovely day.  However, as I approached the shelter that is the nearest structure to the old station I could see that I was very much mistaken!  The golfers were aplenty further on, just on different holes…

Trackbed Through The Golf Course

From the no doubt welcome shelter (it’s very exposed here!) the former trackbed suddenly becomes apparent, although it is actually only a matter of a couple of metres above the surrounding ground and barely worthy of the title ‘embankment’.  Nonetheless it felt good to head along a rather different old railway line than I’m used to.  This is an airy path with plenty of fantastic views all around – no tree lined tunnel here!  In my immediate surroundings of course were the army of golfers, the likes of whom used to be such important clientele for this line.  Now, I’ll wager few of them even know that a railway line used to pass here.  Away in the distance, my final destination of Rye loomed on the horizon, while closer in the rather secretive Martello tower at Rye Harbour was also visible for a short time. 

Rail Formation

I soon reunited with my earlier path at the River Rother and proceeded the final few yards into Golf Club Halt, the only intermediate stop on the route and surprisingly still intact.  Very few of Colonel Stephens’ station buildings survive now, principally because they were built on the cheap and used quite temporary building materials such as wood and corrugated metal, as in this case.  The halt is virtually complete, although I’m not quite sure of its use these days, for the windows were covered inside.  I believe it is a storehouse for the golf club.  Amusingly, Colonel Stephens provided a urinal for male passengers needing the toilet, but no ladies facilities were available.  As a lifelong batchelor, perhaps he never thought that ladies would either visit the golf course at all, or wasn’t sure what needed to be provided?

Embedded Tracks

The former trackbed at the station has been covered in concrete, laid by the military in World War II to improve access to the eastern side of Rye Harbour for various activities to do with D Day preparations and transport shingle around.  This road laying had two effects; the first was to make it extremely costly to replace the rails at the end of the war leading to the eventual closure of the line, and the second was to preserve these rails as relics of a bygone era.  In the station area, the old passing loop and even a siding are perfectly preserved in the rather cracked concrete that appears not to have been relaid since.  Nowadays dog walkers and boating cars use the yard as an unofficial car park and it proved impossible to get a picture of the old place without at least one vehicle in place!

Approaching Halfway House

Heading on from Golf Club Halt the road/ railway line coincide for about quarter of a mile until eventually the road headed off sharp right and the former line carried on, past what used to be known as ‘Halfway House’, a very substantial looking house with a large garden now covering the trackbed.  Old pictures of the line suggest that the line actually passed right by the house – I guess the owners were fairly happy not to have that continue following the War.  Beyond the house, the line is obliterated for a very different reason – what was once solid land is now an enormous lake filling in a disused gravel working.  I had to detour along the nearby road, which wasn’t as unpleasant as I expected, courtesy of a nice cycle path that has been built alongside the road.  I also encountered some very courteous golfers who were quite happy to wait for me to pass before getting on with their game.

No Way Forward

I was reunited with the trackbed on the far side of the lake, although in truth this last little section heading into Rye needed a bit of imagination.  Although the path clearly follows the former route, there are no features giving any clue of its former use.  The only possible hint of a railway was the vegetation that grows up through the tarmac of the path, that somewhat resembles the width of the track.  To be honest though, that might be more to do with me wanting that to be the case!

On Guard

The old station at Rye is no more – it used to be sited between a school and a pumping station.  There was no connection to the Marsh Line that connects Rye to Hastings and Ashford and in fact passengers would have faced almost a mile walk across town to get to this station.  It is surprising then that the line lasted as long as it did and probably says a lot about the quality of early bus services here.

Approaching Rye

For me, now that I had explored everything about the line, it was left only to explore more of Rye in the last half hour or so of my parking ticket.  By now the earlier clouds had gone and the late afternoon winter sun showed the old place off at its very best.  Although the crowds can spoil Rye during the summer months, on winter days like this it truly is a delightful place.  The old tramway walk is equally enjoyable and gives a really good reminder of how tourism used to look!

Former Terminus at Rye

Sussex Coast Walk Day 14 Rye - Camber

Rye

I only had time for a short outing today as the weather dictated that I would need to go on a Saturday rather than the Sunday I normally venture out.  However, I made the most of a sunny day and headed over to finally finish the last little section of the Sussex coast leftover from last month.  Having only a short time available didn’t mean that my walk was any less interesting, in fact quite the opposite as I had two walks for the price of one!  With such a short stretch of coast remaining I had decided to explore a long forgotten railway on the return leg and this will be described as a separate walk later.

Landgate

I parked up in Rye near to the windmill and availed myself of the excellent Kettle o’Fish fish and chip shop for a spot of lunch before setting out (this has long been a favourite of mine).  As soon as I had got my walking boots on and set off I heard the unmistakable sound of a steam engine whistle.  I turned to see a Black Five about to cross the railway bridge over the River Tillingham and cursed my luck as I fumbled for my camera.  I just about managed to get a picture but was far from perfect!

River Rother

Before setting off for Camber I wanted to take the opportunity for a good look around Rye, since I have failed to really do the place justice on my previous visits as it has generally been at the end of the day when all I have wanted to do is head home.  Rye on a sunny winter’s day is an enjoyable place to explore – less so in summer when it is choked with crowds.

Heading Towards the Coast

I headed up the cobbled Mermaid Street, which hosts one of Sussex’s most celebrated watering holes, The Mermaid.  This old place was once the haunt of the notorious Hawkhurst Gang of smugglers, who weren’t necessarily the romantic notion of smugglers you might expect, but a gang of thugs who weren’t shy about using violence when it suited them (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawkhurst_Gang for their story).  Even over 250 years later, the air of smuggling days pervades the whole town giving it quite an atmosphere that even 21^st century gentrification hasn’t entirely been able to quell.

Looking Back at Rye

At the top of Mermaid Street I turned left and headed down to the main shopping street which even on a quiet Saturday seemed to have plenty of activity.  There are so many great shops in Rye, of the kind that you don’t see elsewhere very much including loose sweet shops, a vinyl record shop, proper butchers and all manner of other independently owned places that could only really be sustained in a tourist trap like this.  I wandered along the street, resisting the temptation to dive into any of the shops and headed down towards Landgate, the fortified entrance to the town centre and a relic of the time when the town was encircled by a wall.

Old Hulk

Before I continued on my way I also took the opportunity to look out from the viewpoint just above the Landgate.  The view across Romney Marsh is a very surreal landscape compared with the rest of Sussex and has now changed considerably with the fairly recent addition of the windfarm near Camber.  I could see my route almost mapped out in front of me as my eye followed the route of the River Rother below me.

Rother Reflections

I negotiated the A259 and headed across the River Rother, passing a very busy stall by the water’s edge selling Rye Bay Scallops.  These were obviously in season as the town had advertised a special week devoted to this delicacy.  The stall was doing a fairly brisk trade, although couldn’t count on me being a customer – never understood the appeal of shellfish personally. 

Harbour Mouth

On the other side of the river I took the riverbank path rather than the more direct one across the fields.  What followed was a muddy riverbank walk for a mile or so, with little immediate interest.  The view of Rye receded into the distance, replaced by rather more gritty scenes of rotting boats on the river and a waste oil refinery on the opposite shore.  To my left was a reminder of the need to protect this coast in World War II, with a very prominent pillbox keeping guard over the marshy surroundings.  Eventually after a slippery mile or so I was pleased to reach Halfway House, a large house that would once have been a landmark for visitors on the adjacent railway line that once passed by.  I turned away from the riverbank here and followed the road to the Harbour Master’s building on Rye Harbour, which strangely seems to be on the opposite side of the river to the settlement of RyeHarbour that surely would have provided better access?

Camber Sands

As I reached the road I noticed that embedded in the concrete were rails from the erstwhile tramway – more about that in the next article.  I walked along the levee above the road to avoid the cars running backwards and forwards to the launching ramp.  When I got to the launching area, I got a strong suspicion that many of the cars parked up were actually dog walker’s cars rather than boating folk, as there was very little maritime activity.  I passed by the old station and left the old railway line, preferring instead to head straight for the coast down the long straight cut that now forms the mouth of the River Rother.  My side of the river was very quiet (in fact I was the only walker), while the other side was thronged with activity probably as a result of the easier access.  It was not just people either, I could hear the thunder of some very large vehicles.  As I looked over in the distance the reason for the rumble became clear when I saw a convoy of some pretty huge looking trucks lumbering across the shingle.  I guessed that they were probably engaged in the huge task of moving the beach around to make sure that it isn’t too badly scoured by the winter storms.

Ripple Effect

A little way ahead of me the beach began and I was finally at the coast proper after walking nearly two miles from Rye.  For a change the beach wasn’t shingle, like so much of the Sussex Coast, but a huge expanse of sand, with dunes rolled up at the back of the beach.  Of all the beaches in Sussex, probably only the beach at West Wittering even comes close to this one.  The downside if you are a bather is that at low tide, it is a very long way from facilities to sea!  As the tide was out when I arrived I got to see this first hand with the sea somewhere out in the distance.  The shore end of the beach consisted of some very loose sand, so I decided to head towards the water’s edge so that I could have some more solid ground under my feet, courtesy of wet sand.

Exercise

While the beach couldn’t be said to be busy compared to a summer’s day, there was plenty of activity mostly in the shape of dog walkers, but far off in the distance I could also see a couple of horse riders taking advantage of the all weather surface for exercising their steeds.  As I reached the water’s edge, I suddenly became aware that the tide was coming in.  On such a flat beach, it was quite interesting to see how quickly the water came in and I soon got an appreciation of why people get into difficulties at other seaside locations.  Where longshore drift had created slight slopes in the beach, it was quite interesting to see how the sea created little peninsulas that then eventually got swamped.  At one point when I investigated some flotsam that was being washed in, I was soon paddling through the water as it engulfed the spit of sand I was standing on.

Closed Up Facilities

After half a mile or so of this type of walking I decided to head towards the settlement of Camber.  It’s not much of a place really, mostly given over to holiday activities and accommodation at the cheaper end of the market, such as caravan parks.  Mindful that it would be dark fairly soon, I had a quick look around at this last outpost of Sussex before the border with Kent and concluded that it was probably far more interesting to visit in the summer.  For now, the café that I went for a cup of tea at looked like it was running only a skeleton service (and didn’t look all that good either) so I opted to give it a miss.  The official end of the Sussex coast at the eastern end is by the coastguard cottages at the edge of town, beyond the holiday camps and caravan parks.  I concluded that I had seen enough at this point and decided instead to head back to Rye along the old tramway path.  This enabled me to complete a circular route, although it would also be perfectly possible to return to Rye via the 100 bus that runs frequently from Camber.

End of the Route

Although only a short trip along the coast to the end for completeness, this was nevertheless a very enjoyable walk, perhaps more so on a mild winter day when there were few people about.  The highlight of the walk is undoubtedly Rye, although Camber Sands were a superb finishing point (as long as you forget about the settlement of Camber!).  Almost two years after I started my journey along this coast, it felt good to be done!  Now for different challenges….

Sussex Coast Walk Day 13 Hastings - Rye

Broken Remains

It’s a funny thing about walking in the winter; you can plan routes all you like but in the end it seems that it’s the weather that ultimately decides where you end up going!  So it proved today.  After a week of weather forecasts telling me that just about everywhere that was practical to go was due heavy rain, a window of opportunity opened up in Hastings when the forecast suddenly changed to ‘sunny intervals’ at the last minute.  I was very relieved as this would be my last opportunity for an outing for a month. So, a walk that I had planned last October finally came to pass three months late.

Sorry State

The official start to my walk would be Hastings station, but I felt that it would be remiss of me not to look at the fire damage sustained by Hastings pier after the arson attack last October.  I remembered how much I had hoped but worried for its future when I was last this way, and couldn’t believe that my worst fears had been realised. I hope the culprit is satisfied with his handiwork.  The destruction isn’t quite as complete as that which happened at Brighton’s West Pier and one of the buildings has remarkably remained intact.  While the general outlook for the pier appears gloomier than ever, it’s near complete destruction has galvanised the community into raising money to pay for its restoration and enough remains intact for this to be possible.  There is no doubt though that it will be a massive job, swallowing lots of cash.  I wish them well in their endeavours.  If you want to find out more visit their website at http://www.hpwrt.co.uk/ . 

Six!

I parked at Hastings station, noting that the meanies at Southern Railway now charge £1 for parking on a Sunday (it was free last time I came here) and that the car park has shrunk considerably as the whole station area is being re-developed.  There were no trains to and from Rye today either so I would be returning by bus later (slightly disappointing prospect). 

Seafront Buildings

I wandered down through the town centre passing Priory Meadows shopping centre and coming across a rather odd looking statue of a cricketer depicted hooking a shot behind.  I say odd, because it looked rather an unnatural stance for a cricketer and I suspected that it was sculpted by someone who hasn’t actually played the game.  It did remind me though that the shopping centre was once the central cricket ground, used occasionally by Sussex County Cricket Club as an out-ground.  I suppose it was too much to ask that a town centre location like this could ever stay being a cricket ground forever, but I thought it very sad that it was replaced by something as mundane as a shopping centre.  The last match was played here in 1989, against Kent rather fittingly and was attended by 1000 people apparently.

East Cliff

Although the cricket ground is long gone, it was heartening to see that the Odeon cinema was still functioning and opposite was a small turret boasting the best burgers in town.  I couldn’t help thinking that was quite a feat since there seemed to be standing room only inside for the server!  I headed off towards the old town, by far the most interesting part of Hastings.  The route along the seafront passed some notable buildings such as St Mary in the Castle church, the Deluxe (a former cinema now bingo hall) and of course the net drying huts for which Hastings is so famous.  I couldn’t help but notice the very well-appointed crazy golf course and then I remembered that this is probably the one that hosts the World Crazy Golf Championships!  Most of the leisure facilities along the seafront looked a bit forlorn though on this cold January day.  There was a bit more activity at the eastern end of the beach though with the shellfish shops gearing up for business and fishermen in evidence over by the beach launching area (supposedly the biggest such fleet in the country).  I wandered along Rock-a-Nore Road, realising quickly that I would have to walk to the top of East Cliff today as the funicular railway that could have provided a short cut doesn’t actually start operating until 11am and I didn’t want over an hour for opening time.  I wandered around the area have a nose at the old net shops before starting my ascent up East Cliff.

Heading Along the Coast

I was pleasantly surprised at how easy the climb was, but then I have become used to South West Coast Path type cliffs which are rather more of a test!  At the top by the upper station I lingered for a couple of minutes admiring the view back over the old town before trudging on.  The wet weather that we had had over the preceding few days was certainly noticeable, with the grassy cliff tops of Hastings Country Park very muddy and even swampy in places.  It didn’t take long for me to look rather camouflaged!

East Cliff Funicular

Having walked the next few miles in reverse when I walked the Saxon Shore Way nearly six years ago (crikey – is it really that long ago?), I was more prepared for the ups and downs of the next few miles through the Park.  First I dropped down into Ecclesbourne Glen, probably the most picturesque of the three Glens I would have to cross and yet the one I appreciated least on my last trip as it was so unexpected!  Yet despite the usual rollercoaster type terrain associated with cliff walking this wasn’t nearly as challenging as I remembered (although it helped that I was fresher in this direction!).  As I climbed up and out of the Glen the view back towards Hastings along the cliffline is impressive although I still have a hard time getting used to seeing cliffs in Sussex that are not chalk!

Hastings Old Town

After the relative excitement of Ecclesbourne Glen, the next mile or so of walking is a bit dull if I’m honest although that may have had more to do with me trying to pick my way through the endless mud than any sleight on the countryside!  I then came to Warren Glen, which wasn’t such a descent as the previous one, but was rather more wooded (which seemed to add to the mud!).  By now though the sun was well and truly out and this seemed to give me an extra amount of energy, good enough to help me up on to the next cliff.

Hastings View

There was little ridge this time and I was soon descending once again, this time down into Fairlight Glen, the last of the three.  From here I knew that the final ascent would be the last major climb of the day and although it wasn’t that hard I was nonetheless quite relieved to get all the climbing out of the way nice and quickly.  At the top of Firehills, the intriguingly named hill above Fairlight, I paused to watch the rather hypnotic spinning of the radar station, which still operates here.  I think it is a coastguard station still, although the houses next to it should confirm its original use for they are coastguard style through and through!

Hastings Country Park

As I passed by I became aware of the rather annoying cloud that had temporarily blocked the sun.  Having done so I thought briefly, the cloud then started to build and before long it looked like my beautiful sunny day would become overcast and dull L.  I headed down Firehills through gorse covered country (starting to flower – a sure sign that the end of winter is coming) and soon encountered Fairlight Cove, a rather soulless piece of suburbia that has been plonked on top of the cliffs.  My route would have to pick my way through the streets of this rather dull place until eventually I came upon countryside once again in the shape of a small area that has been acquired by the National Trust.  This would be my last piece of cliff top walking for the day, for about half a mile later I came to Cliff End, and the view onwards confirmed that I had now reached the western end of the piece of coastline dominated by shingle that would eventually become Dungeness.  I dropped down off the cliff top and headed for the sea wall, past the first of many caravan sites.  I was amused to notice that at the edge of the site was a fly-tipped chocolate brown toilet bowl.  I couldn’t help thinking that it might be part of the ‘facilities’!

Top View

What followed was almost an hour-long walk along the sea wall to Winchelsea Beach.  This was pretty dull walking if I’m honest, and was only saved by the fact that part of the way along the sun once again made an appearance and highlighted the large array of bird life that had congregated on the shoreward side of the road in the large area of wetlands left when the sea retreated from this area sometime in the early middle ages.  The Saxon Shore Way, which I had previously followed from Rye takes an inland route here, following what would have been the seashore.  Away in the distance I could also see the windmill at Icklesham, about five miles away.  I was fascinated by the light on the sails created by the low winter sun penetrating through the clouds every so often.

Fairlight

Eventually I reached Winchelsea Beach.  Sadly this is not the wonderful old town of Winchelsea, but a rather unpleasant slab of suburbia dumped by the water’s edge.  Yet, despite the rather drab surroundings there were a few things of note.  The welcome was made by a beachfront café that proudly proclaimed itself on the roof so that passing planes or helicopters wouldn’t pass by without having at least had the option of stopping!

Cliff End

The walk along the sea wall passed by yet another dreaded caravan park but largely avoided the main housing area until eventually I can to a slightly strange looking area of playing fields.  I say strange because the football pitch was in a slight hollow, like the whole thing had been engineered that way.  My suspicions proved to be correct when I noticed from a nearby signboard that this was at one point going to be a substitute location for Rye Harbour, which had silted up badly in the 1700s.  This was built as a harbour, but after completion in 1787 it had already become choked with shingle by November of that year!  It took 61 years to get this far and 7 Acts of Parliament and only kept open for three months!  The outlay for the failed project was £200,000 or over £9 million in today’s money.  A lot of investors must have lost a lot of money on this one…

Rye Marshes Coast

Just after the failed harbour I left the sea wall for good and headed across the nearest footpath to the coast at this point, across Rye Marshes, a nature reserve.  For awhile the path followed an unmade road that serviced a ribbon development of housing mostly of 1920s and 1930s vintage.  I was pleased to see that several of the houses were made up from old railway carriages and one in particular caught my eye as it was actually four railway carriages arranged in a square.  I could only assume that there was a quadrangle in the middle.

Winchelsea Beach Cafe

Eventually the housing petered out and the path continued around a number of very large gravel lakes, perhaps giving a hint as to why this area is now a nature reserve.  Gravel extraction appears to have mostly stopped although there are plenty of old machines left behind as a testament to the former industry.  Now the gravel pits are deserted, save for the odd birdwatcher (I passed a few) and the calls of the birds that frequent these watery holes in the landscape.  Across the first of the gravel lakes I caught a glimpse of Camber Castle, some distance away and passed on a very snowy Saxon Shore walk some years ago.  Today the stonework gleamed in the low winter sunshine and I couldn’t help thinking that the castle is a rather unloved treasure in the Sussex landscape.  Originally built as one of Henry VIII’s channel defensive wall, it is curious now to see how far it is away from the sea!

Railway Carriage Home

I also passed by another scene of dereliction, this time Rye Harbour Farm.  This place was bought by the Environment Agency many years ago when the sea defences were built.  The farm had helped degrade the natural environment through its intensive arable farming practices but now the Agency has given it a new lease of life by getting a new project underway to help enhance the wildlife in the area, such as it would have been when the farm started production.  Now the place looks a bit of a mess and badly in need of being tidied up.

Distant Camber

I soon reached Rye Harbour, a rather bleak little settlement that is no match for its more illustrious neaighbour that was the original port.  By now my feet were beginning to get sore after a long time walking on the concrete of the sea wall and latterly the shingle.  I didn’t hang around therefore, but headed on instead to Rye.  What followed was a rather unpleasant slog of over a mile to the main town of Rye.  This place is of course one of the jewels of the Sussex tourist scene but for me, after thirteen miles of walking I was ready to get the bus back to Hastings.  I didn’t therefore linger too long, preferring instead to wait on further exploration for the next and last very short leg to Camber and back.

Rye Harbour Farm

The walk from Rye to Hastings in either direction is a joy, with plenty of interest and fantastic scenery all the way.  For my money it is the best section of the walk anywhere in Sussex (and yes, that includes the Seven Sisters!).  Getting from end to the other is easy courtesy of the hourly rail service between the two towns (and even the rail replacement bus wasn’t too bad) and parking at each end is easy.  There are even one or two pub options for lunch, although a bit of careful planning might be required here. 

Entering Rye

I am almost done with the Sussex Coast now, just the last little section to Camber.  This is a bit of a nuisance as Camber is only a couple of miles from Rye, but I just didn’t have the time today….

Wealdway Section 1 Eastbourne - Berwick

Eastbourne Pier

After a month of Christmas preparations and losing my last walk due to illness and the snowy weather, I was very anxious to get out as soon as public transport was working again after the Christmas break.  In these days of shortened daylight hours I didn’t fancy the long trip up to London to complete the next section of the LOOP as I neither wanted to face the traffic associated with the sales, or a train ride almost exclusively in the dark.  I was conscious that the Downs still had a covering of snow and so on that basis I picked a walk that I have been planning for a long time now although had previously been undecided which direction to take it.  The weather conditions and my mood dictated that I would try the Wealdway as per the guidebook suggested direction of south to north rather than the other way round which would normally feel more natural to me.

Bleak Midwinter Seafront

I parked at Berwick station (it’s free on Sundays and Bank Holidays) and took the short train ride down to Eastbourne.  On the way I could see that the Downs had just about enough snow on them to make them white, although in truth it was a fairly thin covering.  The day was rather bleaker than the weather forecast had suggested with little hint of any sunshine, despite what had been predicted.  Still on arrival at Eastbourne it felt good to get some lungfuls of fresh air after largely being indoors for the last couple of weeks.

The Meads

The seafront was pretty blustery and various elderly guests were hanging grimly on to their hats as they tried boarding their coaches from the seafront hotels.  It looked as if many of the hotels had done a brisk trade over Christmas if the coach traffic was anything to go by.  I took a quick look at the pier, still trying its best to look cheery on what really was a very bleak looking morning.  The paintwork on the pier was the only blue in existence, with the sea looking very grey and choppy and the sky looking little better, although there were hints offshore that the sun might make an appearance at some point today.

Dewpond View

The pier marks the official start to the walk although you wouldn’t know it as there is no marker for the whole of the promenade westwards from here.  In fact the first clue I was on the walk at all was almost two miles it at the point that the South Downs Way footpath section starts at the end of The Meads.  After a longish walk along the promenade it suddenly felt like a proper walk as I climbed up the steep hill that I had descended on my South Downs Way trip almost two years ago.  The paths coincide for about half a mile until splitting at the top of the steep slope.  This time I took the right hand turn and headed off along the ridge of the South Downs, heading towards the bridleway section of the South Downs Way, which I soon met.  I had now turned north and was pleased therefore to have the wind at my back for much of the rest of the day, making for much more comfortable walking conditions.

Eastbourne Trig Point

When I met up with the South Downs Way again, conditions underfoot had become a lot less friendly however, as I soon realised that when I reached the snow it was not the nice crunchy kind that I had been hoping for, but extremely hard and icy and starting to thaw.  This made it extremely tricky to walk on and I went over a couple of times before realising that the best way of dealing with it was to avoid wherever possible.  For the next couple of miles the path follows the old coach road towards Jevington and normally this affords great views across the Pevensey Levels, virtually the whole town of Eastbourne and further afield Hastings and the High Weald of Kent far off in the distance.  Today though the view was just about there but I had to use rather more imagination on account of the murky conditions.

Snowy Top

At Willingdon Hill the Wealdway takes its leave of the South Downs Way and heads on a bigger loop encompassing Butts Brow and Coombe Hill before descending into Jevington.  I was pleased about this as I was rather enjoying this high level walk and I always though that the SDW is too quick in some places to lose the high ground.  It also meant that I got to look at more of the earthworks left behind by the Iron Age settlers that once called this place home.  Remains of a Neolithic Camp and various burial mounds complete the scene.  Far below me I could see rather newer antiqities such as Polegate windmill, which I have great affections for since it is located a stone’s throw from where my Great Grandparents lived in the later 1970s.

Willingdon

After looping around this last part of the ridge I turned and faced into the wind.  I was a very uncomfortable experience!  I was pleased now to be heading off the ridge and down into Jevington village, where the path enters right opposite the welcoming sight of the Eight Bells pub, a little further up the road than the Hungry Monk restaurant where I passed by on the SDW.  The Eight Bells had a roaring fire on offer and looked very welcoming and hard to resist.  However, I had a feeling that if I succumbed I might still be in there rather than finishing the walk!

Approaching Folkington

My dalliance with Jevington was very brief for I was soon heading along the old coach road that once passed for a main route to Eastbourne from Lewes.  Now not much more than a mudbath, having thawed sufficiently to create an opportunity for horse to do their stuff, the coach road was far from a pleasurable experience.  A little way into the coach road and it appeared to have swallowed a family, since there were some very ill equipped people (even with pushchair) trying to use its debatable charms.  They didn’t look at all like they were enjoying themselves!

Folkington Church

My ordeal soon came to an end as the path finally swung away from the shadow of the Downs for the sun to finally make a breakthrough!  This was very welcome indeed, especially as I soon came upon the hamlet of Folkington (pronounced Fo-wing-ton in these parts!).  This delightful little place seems to exist in a different world to the 21^st Century going on all around it.  The church, with its small wooden spire, positively gleamed in the weak winter sunshine and the bleakness of Eastbourne seafront seemed like a world away.  By now it was well into the afternoon and conscious that I still had four miles left and my pace had been very slow I decided against going in the church this time, but headed out through the wooded combe towards Wilmington. 

Folkington Woods

After a day that had seemed devoid of wildlife, the next couple of miles seemed to have everything that was available!  I was sung to by a group of goldfinches, a redwing put in an appearance and I was followed for some distance by a robin.  My spirits rose considerably and even more so up ahead as I surely came upon the highlight of the walk.  I left the wooded combe and headed out along the foot of the scarp slope of Windover Hill, covered with a thin layering of snow.  Up ahead the Long Man of Wilmington, that mythical and mysterious hill drawing, stood half camouflaged underneath the snow barely visible.  Even on such a day though the majesty of the man could be appreciated.  I have always been fascinated by this drawing, especially as no-one knows how he came to be there, what he represents or even how old he is.  One thing is for sure though and that is that he is the largest representation of a human being anywhere in Western Europe!

Snow Patch

Dropping down the path away from the Long Man was a treacherous affair as the path had been covered almost completely with sheet ice.  It was a miracle that I managed to get to the end without falling over, but I was relieved that this was the last of the snow for me today as from here on the sun and warm air was really starting to do the trick.  Wilmington Priory glowed in the sun just ahead of me and I assumed that I would have the opportunity to look around.  It is now owned by the Landmark Trust however, and not open to the public generally although it is occasionally on Heritage Weekends.  It looked occupied when I passed by so I didn’t loiter too much, moving on instead to the small church next door.  This resembled the church at Folkington and the two villages now share a parish council, along with the hamlet of Milton Street.  So as not to upset anyone by showing favouritism the parish is known as ‘Long Man’, a very diplomatic solution!

Long Man Under Snow

Wilmington Church had the most enormous yew tree living in the church yard.  The old beast looked like it was having trouble supporting its own weight and the locals had propped up some of the limbs with some fairly substantial looking telephone poles.  After lingering in the churchyard for a few minutes, I headed down through the village.  Wilmington is one of the more picture postcard villages of Sussex, with many lovely old cottages and even a few vintage cars on show.  My lingering memory though was of the smell of smoke from lots of open fires all working hard to keep the locals warm in their houses!

Wilmington Churchyard

If I could have stopped the walk at Wilmington it would have been a very fitting end to my journey.  There was still more than two miles to go though until reuniting with the car and these were less memorable miles.  The chalk downs were left behind me as I now headed onto the clay vale that characterises the next part of the Weald.  I soon crossed the extremely busy A27 (with difficulty) and headed out across squelchy fields towards Berwick village.  The terrain is almost marshy in places and so I was relieved that my path managed to steer clear of the worst of it.  I eventually reached the River Cuckmere, a very picturesque river downstream, but here nothing more than a muddy backwater.

Wilmington

I reached the road next to Arlington reservoir, a feature that I would have to explore next time for now I was very focused on my final destination, especially as the short-lived sunshine had disappeared.  Now the light was beginning to fade and I my feet were really hurting after all the hard work of trying to grip manfully to icy paths all day.  Today was far more of a struggle than I expected or wanted, but it felt very good to have some miles in my feet once again.  I think that I may end up doing this walk once again when conditions are better, for it has much to commend it and even on a fairly poor day the highlights clearly shone through.  I think the next section of the Wealdway will have to wait for the spring though – the idea of clay walking in the winter is too much for me!