Kent’s furthest north

Carol Donaldson is an environmental consultant and author living in north Kent. When i heard she was walking to Egypt Bay i was reminded of a walk about twenty years ago. My aim was to visit Kent’s most northerly point, on the Thames near Egypt Bay.

Think i planned a circular walk from Cliffe to the coast, returning via High Halstow and Cooling. I write from memory aided by a torn Ordnance Survey map 178. Parked in Cliffe, admiring the many signs objecting to a plan to build an airport. The authorities decided to extend Heathrow instead.

Set off across Cooling Marshes. Worried by a sign “no access to seawall” Did this mean my planned route was impossible or merely unlawful? The map seemed to show that the path i was on might join a track from Cooling. Or maybe not. The flat landscape has many creeks and ditches. Without landmarks, under that big sky, i realised i didn’t know exactly where i was (no GPS) or where i was going.

Difficult. Turning back felt like failure but i retreated to Cliffe. Drove to High Halstow and followed a minor road past Decoy Farm and Swigsole onto the marshes. Parked and had a easy walk on track and path to the seawall. Notices about a plan to flood part of north Kent to compensate for building a port in Essex. Reached my destination, with industrial Coryton and Canvey Island three kilometres across the water. Behind me the flat expanse of this very rural part of \kent.

An easy walk back to the car. The only person i’d seen was a man on a tractor. Feeling pleased with my success i drove south. Until i came to a locked gate. I was on a “white road” (the colour on the map) Sometimes these roads are public, sometimes not. Panic! Next to the gate is Swigsole. Luckily the owner was at home and had a key. Profuse thanks.

All’s well that ends well.

Note: Carol Donaldson wrote the excellent “On the marshes” (Little Toller Books, 2017) and blogs as naturegirl.

The Elham Valley Way

The Elham Valley, in East Kent, runs northward from Lyminge. As far as Bridge it follows the Nailbourne, an intermittent stream that’s running well in this wet season. The Elham Valley Railway, closed in 1947, ran from Canterbury to Cheriton Junction near Folkestone.

With hindsight, it would be great if the abandoned railway had become a cycling/walking track. Forty seven years later the Elham Valley Way was created, mostly made up of existing rights of way.

In 1994 Kent County Council published an excellent guidebook to the Elham Valley Way The main authors were Brian Hart, John Cann, Philip Rutt and Tim Fagan. The book is in English and French, in a spirit of crosschannel friendship. From Hythe to Canterbury is about 38 Km or 23 miles, and passes through a diverse landscape of downland, woodland, orchards, parkland and farmland.

I have no intention of trying to improve on the guide. I keep telling myself “this isn’t about me” but of course it is. I walked the EVW on two stages in summer 1998, from Canterbury to the Palm Tree pub at Wingmore, and from Hythe to the same place, using buses. It’s not a pub anymore, sadly. The guide runs from Hythe northwards which could make the walk a pilgrimage to Canterbury

A few memories of the EVW.

From Peene one walks on the actual trackbed of the disused railway. I wanted to walk through the short Etchinghill tunnel and so did not leave the track where i should. I had to climb out of cutting near a golfcourse, missing out part of the way and Tolsford Hill.

I’ve been on Tolsford Hill a few times: it’s on the North Downs Way. Notably, i was there with Datrows on August 7th 2005, the Sunday of the Edgbaston Test between England and Australia. England needed two wickets to win, Australia 63 runs. I had to choose whether to go on the walk, or watch the Test which could be over in five minutes. Compromise: walk with my Walkman radio. Something i’d never done before, preferring sounds of nature and fellow walkers. So, among the radio masts and round barrows, i heard the last wicket fall as Australia lost by two runs.

Jumping Downs, near Barham, holds memories of work with Carol Donaldson and the Stour Valley volunteers, clearing scrub and erecting posts.

The last section, from Patrixbourne to Canterbury is familiar from my running days. Actually roads through orchards, relatively easy on the legs. The view of the top of the cathedral tower means the finish is in sight.

Enough of me and my memories. It’s a great route, whole or in parts, Happy walking.

March 24th, 2021

Rambling down memory lane

During lockdown i’ve been sorting through over sixty years of papers. Hard to throw anything away, but i’m trying. This triggers memories.

Recently i found a ticket stub from the Albert Hall, May 27th 1966. Bob Dylan. A letter from my lover at the time. The lyrics to “Mr Tambourine Man” in her handwriting with corrections in mine. Taken from the LP. Not quite the words that Dylan sang. The folk process.

She was a folksinger when i knew her, singing at clubs and pubs in Oxford. We had a few memorable walks, eg by the Thames to the Barley Mow at Clifton Hampden. We parted as friends, but what became of her? If she became a well-known singer i’d probably have heard.

Difficult to know, partly because of her name. Kay Garaway. Put that in a search engine and i get “Do you mean Kate Garraway?” No. Never heard of her.

“I think of her often and hope whoever she’s with is fully aware of how precious she is”

The last two lines are from Bob Dylan’s “Blues in plain D” Used without permission. Sorry Mr Dylan.

Stour Valley Walk

There seem to be five major rivers in England called Stour (prob Celtic “strong one”) The Kent one runs from Lenham in the North Downs through Ashford, Canterbury, and Sandwich to the sea at Pegwell Bay. The Stour valley walk follows the river valley, though only about 17km out of 83 are on the river bank.

I used the excellent guide book published by Kent County Council in 1995. Edited by Donald Sykes it is the product of many hands including the Stour Valley Countryside Project.

Guide books seem to be favoured by older walkers. explorekent.org is a useful website.

The walk falls into six stages, each an easy day walk. Easy for a man in his forties. Couldn’t do it now. Using car, train and buses i finished the walk in 1999, amused by the two white plastic chairs at remote Shell Ness.

Plenty of variety. Farmland. Heathland at Hothfield and Canterbury’s Old Park. Stodmarsh nature reserve. Shingle beach near the end. Sandwich’s town wall. A neolithic long barrow. Some lovely views. I’m not writing a guide: that’s been done, and done well.

The Stour Valley Walk is attractive both as a long distance walk and in short stages.

Walking helps one to forget Covid and other problems.

Rambling round the Saxon Shore

Having done my first stage of the North Downs Way i was sidetracked by the Saxon Shore Way. I found, probably in the Albion bookshop Canterbury (gone, alas) “the Saxon Shore Way” [Kent Rights of Way Council,1980]

This guide is a set of nine day walks with maps and written directions, each day a different colour. The SSW was 140 miles from Gravesend to Rye, roughly following the Kent coast in Roman times when Thanet was a real island. Saxon shore forts were Roman defences against invaders. Among the many attractions on the way are Rochester Castle, Reculver, Dover Castle, River Stour, and the Royal Military Canal.

I left Gravesend in January 1984, intending to walk the first stage to Strood. This included Cliffe, Cooling, Northward Hill nature reserve and part of Carol Donaldson’s beloved marshes. [Carol Donaldson, “On the marshes”, Little Toller Books, 2017]

That first day was a mess. I went astray twice, blaming poor signage, and ended at the Fenn Bell on A228, about six miles short of Strood. Luckily hitched a lift to Chatham and took a train back to Canterbury.

In August 1991 i had a pint in the Royal Cinque Ports in Rye, feeling smugly pleased with myself for completing the nine stages. A little later my friend and fellow walker and runner Llew Williams said “You know you finished the SSW? Well it’s been extended to Hastings” I swore.

Llew taught electrical installation at Canterbury college. A really nice guy. He died too young of throat cancer. So it goes.

Later i walked to Hastings. Then, in stages, to Eastbourne and the South Downs Way.

Always more to walk.

February 23rd, 2021

What a year

I started this blog almost a year ago. Intended to write of the joy of walking, based on my work as a countryside access warden and walks with Datrows and my son. Expected to ramble off on byways of thought, inspired by nature and my fellow walkers.

Thanks to covid and decrepitude my walks have been short and mostly solo. So why not write about Kent’s notable footpaths? The North Downs Way is a national trail from Farnham in Surrey to Dover. I walked the section from Canterbury to Dover on Thursday August 19th 1982. Refreshed my memory with “The North Downs Way” by Dennis Herbstein (1982) though if you’re walking get a newer guide as the Way has changed in several places. I like to use Ordnance Survey explorer maps and a guidebook full of information on history and nature. Younger walkers may do things differently.

That Thursday i took a half day off work intending to take the early train to Dover and walk back. That train was cancelled. Quickly reversed my plan. The walk took six hours and a quarter for about twenty miles. A long half day.

Not the most scenic part of the Way but it passes, or is close to, several places of interest. Canterbury Cathedral. St Martins Church. Canterbury gaol and house of correction. Highland Court. Barham Downs. (the guide thinks this is dreary) Snowdown colliery. Bronze Age roundbarrows. A former Roman Road. Dover Castle. Dover Beach. Readers should note that much has changed since 1982.

A long time ago. A sense of achievement. A connection with Kent’s landscape and history.

February 18th 2021

Thoughts on snow

I like snow: when fresh and white, crunchy and easy to walk on. Deadens noise. Enjoyed a walk to the allotment on Monday, the first visitor that morning. The plots evened out under a white blanket.

Snow is educational in two ways. First: we learn how vulnerable our society is to cuts in transport, power supply, communications. Second: in preCovid times Radio Kent would list activities cancelled because of snow. We learn how much goes on in our county: a huge number of voluntary events we are made aware of by their absence.

I dislike snow when its slushy underfoot, like Sunday. Snow had fallen on wet muddy ground. A local footpath alongside our allotments was the muddiest i’d seen it in forty years.

I dislike snow when its hardpacked on pavements. Great care is needed not to make sudden moves. “Walk like a penguin” in case of a fall. That was my experience today when i fell on my backside near the Wincheap roundabout in Canterbury.

After that my walk through Toddlers Cove and Westgate Gardens was lovely. One of my sons once said “its like walking on a Christmas cake” Mallards ,pigeons, magpie, a herring gull. Walking through the city was difficult, combining Covid awareness with ice safety. I safely visited Wholefood for bread, and Wilko for lightbulbs. The main purpose of my walk was to collect medicines from Boots. I’d left the prescription at home. A senior moment.

Enjoyed espresso from the Don Juan cafe in Dane John Gardens where children were sledging down the city wall.

Snow: enjoy it if you can but stay safe.

February 9th 2021

Decrepitude

Walking is simple: children can do it. Put one foot forward, bring the back foot past it, repeat. Walking is easy on a flat surface such as concrete or asphalt. Fairly easy on rural paths of earth, grass, gravel. More difficult in recent times where heavy rain has turned bare earth to mud and flooded some paths, including part of Canterbury’s Great Stour Way.

This blog is about walking, not about me. But i should explain that my walks are restricted not by the lockdown but by age. Local Morrisman Mark Jopling retired from dancing a few years ago, giving “decrepitude” as his reason. Now i know what he meant. I will not go on about my arthritic left foot and dodgy knees. Decades ago i could walk all day at three miles an hour. Now, three miles in two hours might be my limit. I often say that inability to climb stiles would stop me walking. Decrepitude may stop me first.

So. Recently i’ve been doing short walks and avoiding mud. I had a desire to visit the seaside at Seasalter. Not clear if that broke the lockdown rules, but i felt much happier after a walk on the beach.

Coming from Birmingham the coast was a day’s drive away. A thrill when the sea came into view. After 45 years in Kent i get the same thrill at the top of the hill down to Whitstable. “I can see the sea!”

Trying to walk further. Revisiting the two mile walks i used to briskwalk. Yesterday i did my daily mile in light rain. Didn’t like it.

Today i walked through the nearby Wincheap Industrial Estate. More accurately a trading estate, selling beds, furniture, tiles, cars, plumbing and building goods among other things. Iceland is open; not much else. A van sells drinks and food by the car park. Not the most scenic part of Canterbury, but walking is walking. And no mud. I was on my way to buy screenwash for the car.

Keep on walking! It’s good for you.

February 4th 2021

Suburban walking

During the current lockdown i feel i shouldn’t drive far to walk and i am avoiding buses. Whatever ministers say, the rules are not clear. We can leave home for exercise, but how far?This means walking from home. Rural walks have disadvantages: stiles, steep hills, and mud. Urban walks lack these but have uneven pavements, people, and traffic. Any walking is good for mind and body. Though i dislike being wet.

I walk at least a mile a day, though rarely more than three. A dry day unlike the previous four. Today’s walk was two miles around south Canterbury. A route i used for brisk walking some years ago when it took me 30 minutes.

Uphill on Heaton Road, named after one of Canterbury’s MPs, with Victorian houses . Through the newish houses of Chineham Way, in the former chalk quarry. Onto Zealand Road and uphill to South Canterbury Rd, passing the site of South Canterbury station on the Elham Valley line, closed in 1948. Past the Kent and Canterbury Hospital. Through an alleyway past a small park to Raymond Avenue where i met our windowcleaner who thought i was lost. Prospect Place, Norman Road and Oxford road to home. In 48 minutes.

I passed few people, easy to avoid by stepping into the road. Little traffic. Oxford Road has the most uneven pavements in the area but the puddles had dried up and i avoided tripping. Home for a welcome coffee.

Countryside Access Warden

A snappy title. I prefer to call myself “volunteer footpath warden”. What does it mean? Visiting Kent’s public rights of way: byways, bridleways and footpaths. Reporting faults: e.g. damaged stiles, obstructions, fallen trees, locked gates. Fitting waymarkers. Light pruning.

Back in 2011 Kent were recruiting CAWs. I attended a training course at Wye Village Hall. A valuable part was walking local paths and relating them to maps.

We were issued with footpath maps and a rucksack full of equipment. Much better maps were available later. Waymarkers (coloured arrows) and endplates for path numbers. Self adhesive endmarkers. Hammer and nails. UV resistant pens for path numbers. A tool for removing damaged or wrong waymarkers. I found this difficult to use, and take a cold chisel and pincers. Loppers. A big spanner for adjusting metal kissing gates. WD40 to lubricate gates. Secateurs and loppers. Loppers are cumbersome to carry, especially on buses. I take a folding pruning saw. Safety equipment: hiviz jacket, goggles, gloves, first aid kit. Compass, notebook and pencils.

I find it easier to carry all this in a bag with handles: more accessible than a rucksack though more awkward to carry.

I also take Ordnance Survey maps, water, an apple, mobile phone, camera, and a GPS, present from my eldest son.

I was surprised we were not given specific areas to cover. Possibly some parts of Kent are never visited by wardens. I began in Canterbury, doing a grid square or two at a time, so as to miss out no paths, Spiralling outwards. This has taken me to the coast between Seasalter and Reculver, to Boughton-under-Blean to the west, St Nicholas-at-Wade to the east, and Barham to the south. Much of it has been pleasurable.

I like to think the work benefits KCC and the public. It benefits me by taking me into Kent’s varied countryside. I have done a lot of walking and like to find paths walkable and properly marked. It’s good to feel i contribute to this.