The Saxon Shoreway
leg 11: Rye to Hastings 13 miles
18 August 2005

Fine town sign at Winchelsea

A lovely summer's day for the final leg: it was good to back in Rye again, and after a brief diversion to a cashpoint, I was heading out of the town and away from the tourist hordes.

Looking back to Rye from Brede sluice

The path here follows the river Brede, where houses on the other side have gardens running down to the water's edge. Soon I took the first of the day's diversions - just a slight veer to the right so that I could see Camber Castle up close.

Camber Castle

The castle is now at least a mile inland, but when Henry VIII built it in 1540, it was a coastal defence against - yes, you guessed it - the French. It's designed to hold a garrison of just over 40 men. It only lasted a hundred years: by then the coast has silted up and become marshland. 

Looking up through the ruined wall

It's a very snug castle, but it's not open during the week. A disappointed young boy, who was visiting with his family, and I peered through the gates.

Inside the outer wall

The boy pointed to the lower chamber and said, with great excitement, 'That's the dungeon.' The low design of the castle includes platforms for cannons. 

More castle

I learned later that Charles I had ordered the demolition of the castle, but thankfully no one got around to destroying it. I headed back over the grass to pick up the track of the Shoreway.

The path led past a farm where a couple of very fine donkeys were grazing. A sign said that these were rescue donkeys, and they look to be having a fine retirement.

Happy donkey

There was a bit of road walking now, and I'd already decided to take another diversion into Winchelsea, which I've never visited. On the road was a lovely fish and vegetable shop. There was fresh crab, which would not have enjoyed a journey in a hot rucksack, but I bought a roll-mop and a nectarine to go with my lunch.  The owner was very friendly, and told me about someone else who'd been walking the Shoreway with his dog. The dog had, by this stage of the journey, been most fed up and looking forward to his basket at home.

Strand gate

There's a steep climb up to the imposing town gate at the top of the hill. Winchelsea is one of the Cinque Ports, and the oldest town in England. Again, I found it hard to believe that this tiny place was once so important that Edward I had it rebuilt after some terrible storm in 1287.

Dove in the gate

Strand gate from the other side

But from the top of the hill, I could see over to the sea, and get some idea of what this place must have been like when water lapped around.

The sea on the horizon

The town is built on a grid system, and it's postcard pretty.

Fine old house

Ahead of me was the church of St Thomas the Martyr, looking like it had seen rough times. 

St Thomas' church

It's a fine building, originally 14th century, but much trashed by the French. Inside is some amazing 20th century stained glass, which one pair of visitors was complaining about. I thought it looked grand. There are three windows commemorating war and emergency workers on sea, land and air. Among the tombs is a tiny piece of medieval plaster painting. It's clearly a high church parish, with lady chapel full of ladies and sanctuary lamp.

Fine angel - one of a pair on the porch

I wandered back through the graveyard, which was full of painters sketching various aspects. I headed out of the town, and picked up a route that took me down to what's marked on the map as the 'town ditch'.

Down in the ditch

Then it was a short scramble back uphill to another of Winchelsea's gates.

New Gate on the outskirts of town

The nice shopkeeper had confirmed that the footpath here would get me back on track, and after a mile or so I was back on the shoreway with my old friend, the Royal Military Canal.

Waterside

Now it was a gentle three miles back to the sea. 

Every shade of brown cow

Thistledown blowing across the path

There were a few walkers out, but not many, so I had the route to myself. After a couple of miles, this leg's scary sign appeared.

Stay calm...

Great. Rampaging bullocks. I wondered what to do if I came across them. I could always jump into the canal...but there were no bullocks. Phew.

The sea wall on the horizon

I was nearly at Cliff End, and the land here seemed to be lower than the sea. I looked over the reeds to the sea wall that protects the sheep and pasture. The map showed that this wasn't actually below sea level, but it felt like it. 

Last of the canal

Just before Cliff End, I decided to leave the canal and climb up to meet the sea, which I hadn't been really near to since Folkestone. 

The sea, the sea

And the water's edge

The sea felt quite warm - I'd promised myself that I'd seal the walk with dunking my feet at Hastings. But first, I had to get there. 

Why Cliff End got its name

This was the first time this year that I'd seen families out on the seashore playing and swimming. The route now goes back inland, and uphill.

Fine views from the path

Onwards and upwards

There's quite a stiff haul here, along the path that leads beside the edge of the houses and through Stumblet Wood. Then I was into Fairlight.

You are here...

This was a nice bit of path, leading through the greenery to the open cliff top. It was now 1400, so I decided to make it my lunch stop. Someone had kindly placed a bench in just the right place.

:Lunch with the view to Fairlight Cove

For the first time in the day, I began to wonder about the weather. Was it going to start to rain? I think this is the one trip that I hadn't packed a waterproof. But the sun was soon out again and I headed down to come out at a junction of five paths. I couldn't make out which was the right one, and this not being Kent, there was no waymark. I stared at the map, and dug out the Shoreway guide, but still took the wrong path. After half a mile I knew I'd gone wrong, and eventually found the right route. This led along to Lower Waites Lane, and I worked out that neither the guide nor my map had the re-routed path marked. 

Back on track, the path took me through the bungalows of the Cove, and upward back to the cliff. It's an odd place - very neat, very quiet. 

The last house at Fairlight Cove

After a bit more of a climb, I entered Hastings Country Park, six miles or so from the town. 

Looking back the way I'd come up...

This place must be wonderful when all the gorse is in bloom, and this bit of the coast is called Firehills. 

Seawards to Dover...

The high point here is at 124m, where the coastguards' tower stands watch over the sea. 

Protection

And this is where the tough bit of the walk begins...from here til East Hill at Hastings it's a series of switchbacks. 

From above Covehurst Bay

From the top of the cliffs, it's down a hundred metres or so, then back up again. On the next rise, I could see the path leading back up the hill for another roller coaster.

Here we go again...

There were some steep steps down...and then back up again through the woods. I tried to remember John's cry of 'The hills are your friends!'

...and back up

Next it was down along Covehurst Wood and back up again. There were some deeply unhelpful bollards along the way, which said things like 'Hastings 5 1/2 miles' followed, half a mile later, by 'Hastings 6 miles'. 

I'd come from the top of the cliffs, centre

On the next upward path, a totally naked man came out of the wood and walked past me. Odd. I noted that his sun tan was pretty even. 

Take care! Naked man on path

The final switchback was down to Ecclesbourne Glen. I could see the edge of Hastings peeping out from behind the cliffs.

The path down almost to sea level

Once back up another 100m or so, the path flattened out. I was hot and a bit knackered by now.

I like flat

Finally I was onto ground I knew - East Hill. I was last here almost a decade ago, and it was good to see it again. Ahead was the beacon and the pier, glimmering in the afternoon sun.

From East Hill

As I crossed the green, I saw the wonderful sight of an ice cream van. For the past mile I'd been fantasising about an orange ice lolly, and sure enough, the van had one for me. I also bought a bottle of water and gulped it straight down.

Hastings Town by the side of the funicular railway

I paused for a while here, admiring the view and licking my increasingly dribbly lolly. For a moment I thought about getting the railway down to the town, but decided that (a) I'd finish the walk on my legs and (b) dribbly lollies and funicular railways probably mix too well. So I slowly headed down the steps.

Down to the fishing ships

I felt very good, heading down into town. It's taken me longer than anticipated, but it's 162 miles from the start point.

Down by the fishing boats

I crossed the road and wandered down to the bit of beach colonised by fishing boats. It wasn't til later that I read that Hastings is home to the largest beach-based fishing fleet in Europe. 

East Hill and the funicular railway

Hastings' original port suffered from the Great Storm in 1287, and after that the town moved eastwards. It has the feeling of having seen better days, like Edwardian and Victorian times when it was a booming seaside holiday town. Now there are miniature golf courses and fun fares along the front...but any civilisation that includes fresh hot doughnuts can't be all bad. 

Very Hastings: the net shops

One of the things I love about Hastings is the group of net huts. They originated in the 17th century as a place for the fisherman to dry their nets in a small space.

I popped into the Tourist Information office and bought myself a Hastings mug, to commemorate the end of the shoreway. Then I passed the trampoline park and on to the beach. Pebbly beaches are painful to tired feet, but the sea was wonderfully refreshing. Thank you feet and legs for 160 miles well walked!

Journey's end

Final thoughts

What a fantastic journey through Kent and Sussex. I'm still taking in how much it's possible to learn and see just by walking this route, and the range of land and sea scape is astonishing, from marshes to the white cliffs. Okay, so I missed out the walk from Rochester to Gillingham, but that's mostly road walking, and I don't regret it. It's a brilliant long distance path to do it you live in the south east; all of it accessible by train or bus. And top marks to Kent for their excellent waymarking.