Along the Wealdway: Tonbridge to the sea
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15 August 2005: Tonbridge to Fordcombe, 9 miles
A stage with many fine
stretches. Essentially, it climbs to an outlying ridge of the Weald, after
an initial stroll by the Medway out of Tonbridge. The Wealdway crosses
under a railway embankment as it leaves the river: my father, who had
lived in Tonbridge when Adrian's age, had told me that he used to pick
blackberries from a railway embankment at the little nearby station of Leigh, so perhaps
had come to this very spot with his own father, eighty years ago ...
Soon you
climb
up to the Weald at Bidborough. We had lunch at the Hare & Hounds, a
place that's content to rake in the cash from the uncritical: I have a
memory of waiting staff stepping around a dog turd in the garden rather
than bother to clear it up. From here the path seesaws up and down through
Modest Corner (warning to walkers following Kev Reynolds' old Cicerone
guide: the Beehive is now closed) and Speldhurst, then the perfect
little Avery's Wood, to Fordcombe. We tried our best to catch the Tunbridge
Wells bus, but the train to Tonbridge had sat outside the station for
twenty minutes (inches from the path!), and Hare & Hounds service had been slow, so we
eventually gave up ... only to start running again when we saw the one bus
a day down to
Ashurst station.
16 February 2006, Fordcombe to Chuck Hatch, 7
miles
We
returned to Fordcombe via the bus from Edenbridge. From the village
it's down to a short stretch near and by the Medway. Given that a
railway runs through it, the flood plain has a remote feel around here.
The Dorset Arms at
Withyham is a quality establishment, and the slow uphill tread south from
here is very pretty, with lovely views behind (pictured)
and the Five Hundred Acre Wood, of Ashdown Forest, ahead. We nipped
out of the forest for our overnight accommodation, at the smallholding of
the Paddocks
in Chuch
Hatch.
17 February 2006, Chuck Hatch to Buxted, 10 miles
A Roman road tracks through Ashdown
forest at about the place where the wood ends and the heathland begins, so
we spent a few minutes trying to find evidence of a fossa or similar. Then
there is the broad step out on to this great wild space (left
picture), with views that encompass all the major hill ranges of
the Wealdway. We had a glorious day for it too, though part of me wonders
whether a full on south-westerly gale might not have been better
preparation for the real walking Adrian may do in years ahead. But this
magnificent stretch is over in little more than an hour, the descent
starting soon after the trig point on Camp Hill (right picture). The Foresters in Fairwarp was
a straightforward village local - nothing
wrong with that - and
we then made good time down
to Buxted Park, and
cut through the park to the station.
1 April 2006, Buxted to East Hoathly, 9
miles
It's been a dry winter, but the flood
plain of the Uck beyond Hempstead Mill was remarkably damp. Goodness knows
whether the Wealdway is passable in a 'normal' winter (should one ever now
occur). You then follow a pretty little tributary up to Tickerage Wood,
and from here we diverted (via the Vanguard Way) to Blackboys and the
excellent and ancient Blackboys Inn.
We picked up the path again before the loop to
Newplace Farm (left picture), and were surprised that shortly
after there's a field stretch where the right of way has been ploughed up.
Hawkhurst Common was fun: we battled into a chilly little wind, and I
told Adrian that this was a bit like the size and contours of the summit plateau
of Ben Nevis; these would be considered good conditions for the highlands.
We dropped down to East Hoathly past a deserted stables and the graves of
race horses, including Irish Oaks winner Princess Pati (right
picture). Mum
and grandma were waiting in the village churchyard.
4 August 2006, East Hoathly to Horsebridge, 7
miles
A family pub lunch at the King's
Head, tap of the 1648 brewery
, was a pretty good way to start. The Six Bells in Chiddingly -
a music pub - would have been a good stop too, but there is only so much
crawling you can do with a teenager in tow. The highlight of the stage is
the delightful churchyard with integral cottages at Hellingly
(pictured); you encounter the Cuckmere too. We
left the route at Horsebridge to the only accommodation we knew of, the
nearby Travelodge
, but we saw as we passed it that another King's Head, in
Lower Horsebridge, does so too.
5 August 2006, Horsebridge to Wilmington, 8
miles
A very
annoying start. We lost the Wealdway at the turn off south, in new
housing, so had a road plod through an estate. The stretch by the Cuckmere
to Upper Dicker was fascinating though; it looked like a savannah
(pictured). A very large field soon after was a nice little
navigation poser causing a compass lesson. The village shop in Upper
Dicker was our watering hole, as it was too early for the pubs of Upper
Dicker and Arlington. Over the railway and A27, the Long Man and South
Downs came ever closer to view. At the wonderful Giant's Rest in Wilmington, we
waited on the lawn, fed and 'watered', bathed in glorious sunshine, for
our lift home.
12 February 2007, Wilmington to Beachy Head, 8
miles
Time to finish at last, having worked
out that it was doable by public transport, if taxis for the start and
finish are allowable. As befits the season, this was a rougher day than
when we had left Wilmington, but dry apart from a few showers on the pull
past the feet of the Long Man (pictured left). This is an impressive stretch, bringing in to clear relief the
scale of this massive feature. Now I had noticed with Matthew that at
about the age of 14 teenagers change from 'I can't do this' walkers to
'why are you so slow?' - at least mine do, for Adrian was the same. After
lunch in Jevington's Eight Bells he fairly raced up to Combe Hill, at one
juncture practically vaulting a stile, while dad was still following
behind. The wind ripped through us along the ridge above Eastbourne though
(pictured right),
and whatever the merits of the mighty cliff even dad
was pleased to see the Beachy Head hotel in front of us. So that was
another knocked off: no more children to induct, alas.