Saturday
Because Saturday was the first day, this is quite a generous length — setting the scene etc.
Day Break
I had contemplated walking the entire South Downs Way in a week for a few months by the time Saturday 26th July rolled around. I have always enjoyed the outdoors, enjoyed walking and anything that is an excuse to take some photos in my book is a good one and finally the day when I would begin a one-hundred mile walk across the South East of England had dawned.
One thing you can never count on in England is the weather. Even in summer you can be caught out with fickle drizzle and occluded skies, and the Summer of 2008 was no exception. In fact the whole summer was remembered for being something of a wash out, but like the weather people’s memories are also subjectively fickle. The Saturday was thankfully warm, bright and though hazy it was definitely sunny. I looked at the large pack on the bedroom floor and being around 4.30am in the morning I was not exactly jumping with joy at my adventure. I wasn’t regretting my decision to do the whole one-hundred mile National Trail in a week but if anything I was nervously excited. I have walked miles in a day before, once on Dartmoor clocking up 25 miles in a day. Likewise I walked a similar distance earlier in the year around London — so seeing as I was only walking at most 19 miles a day, why the worry? Even so I did wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew, after all not many people decide that a week’s holiday off of work should be spent doing something potentially more tiring and exhausting than what you are taking a break from!
The destination that morning was not just the kitchen for copious amounts of coffee but eventually Winchester in the county of Hampshire. The South Downs Way crosses three counties, one in its entirety and those are the aforementioned eastern part of Hampshire, West Sussex and a good half of East Sussex too. The South Downs Way follows the chalk escarpment slope that picks up some ‘consistency’ when you start at Winchester and it marches all the way progressively further south before the downs cascade into the sea at Beachy Head in East Sussex. There are also the North Downs which run from western Surrey to the Kent coast at Dover — hence the north and south. The North Downs Way runs for 132 miles from Farnham, Surrey to Dover, Kent.
My pack was laden with the smallest tent I could afford, likewise sleeping bag, some basic cooking equipment, my week’s worth of snacks (apples, chocolate bars, museli bars, basic meals for when a pub was not around — that kind of thing), a change of clothes and 10 rolls of black and white film to shoot in my Canon camera. With all of this, some maps and other notes to boot, the pack was heavy and one thing is certain when you carry such a weight, it makes you promise once again to yourself never to put on excessive amounts of weight!
As expected I had deliberately gotten up earlier than necessary as there was a 5.45am train to Southampton where I would make my connection to Winchester. However there was incredibly little chance that I could steal my sloth like momentum quickly and I knew I would have to get the 6.45am. If I missed that then I was foolish and a glutton for punishment as I anticipated eating at a pub for lunch and that pub was some miles from Winchester.
Low and behold! I did make the 6.45am train, tingling with expectation I was still feeling exhausted and felt as though I should sleep but all I could do was watch the Downs recede way the further we went from Worthing (which backs directly on to the Downs) knowing that I had to walk every inch of the distance I was now covering in the train and then some over the course of the week. If all went to plan, I would be only 5 miles north of Worthing again in Washington by Tuesday evening. My journey was pleasantly buoyed up by three young teenage girls from whom I can only gather were off for a week in Newquay, Cornwall and their shenanigans with socks (don’t ask) provided a good humorous distraction to my jangling nerves. What I could not understand is why I was feeling so nervous — I have walked many miles
Southampton
Once at Southampton the train to make my onwards connection to Winchester was delayed. This was quite nice though as it gave me a chance to sit at the far end of the platform looking down towards the railway tunnel that runs underneath the city centre, a black unknown. The breeze was cool and the light hazy but still with a distinct tinge of summer sweat. The summer had thus far been something of a wash out although June had been pretty good and the 1st of July my birthday was very nice too. As it would turn out the week I was walking was about the best week of the entire summer! Eventually the train arrived and whilst it was cramped we were soon pulling up in Winchester.
On arrival at the station my knees felt weak not just from the weight of the pack I was carrying but also from the expectation I had placed on the whole trip, had I set myself up for a fall in not being able to complete it or would the expectation of the experience be too optimistic and the actual journey be bland? I am not sure of the minds of others but I do wonder if others like me imagine themselves to be on the holiday or journey they have been looking forward to, almost constructing the event before it takes place with the mind putting a fortuitous sheen on it? I had definitely done that with the South Downs Way trip.
The starting point for the trail is outside of Winchester Cathedral and not wishing to miss the start point I made my way there. Once there it was clear that like the day prior (Friday) where the weather had finally bucked its ideas up, today was going to be pleasantly hot at times. I sat outside the cathedral contemplating when I should make a move and stuggled to take a photo with the sun shining directly above the Cathedral. I managed two mediocre shots which serve more for posterity than anything and heaved the pack on my shoulders and took the time.
Winchester to Cheesefoot Head
I started walking at 9.31am. From this point on, the only way I would make it to East Sussex coast at Beachy Head and Eastbourne some one-hundred miles away was with my own feet and the goods on my pack.
East Hill, Winchester
The trail winds out of Winchester after a brief dog-leg over the River Itchen before taking a long slow climb up East Hill. Part way up you can start to hear the sound of cars humming by and as you climb the hum becomes a hushed din to a full roar. To the east of Winchester is the M3 motorway that cuts through the beginning of the South Downs like a callous scythe. The M3 runs from South West London (Richmond/Sunbury) to Southampton and for many years was split in two and in the middle sat Winchester and the A33. Eventually the then Conservative government got the go-ahead to plug the gap. Sadly they did not have the intention to do the job properly (the UK was in a recession in 1991/2) and so rather than creating a tunnel under Twyford Down they instead embarked on one of the worst cases of Government sponsored vandalism ever, they gouged out a massive swathe of chalk downland:
Twyford Down M3 Cutting in 1994 - Photo by Chrisw404
Also see: http://www.urban75.org/photos/protest/twy01.html in relation to people and before the slopes of the cutting were grassed)
This cut Twyford Down off from St. Catherine’s Hill, an ancient Hill Fort. Mass protest errupted, the EU ruled the decision illegal, the road was forced through and to this day I have never ever driven the M3 between this section.
After crossing the M3 you finally make your way immediately over the Spitfire Link (essentially the old A33) and finally drop down the other side into the fields towards Chilworth. Immediately to the south you can make out the chalk escarpment begin to gather some pronunced pace and it is only as you walk through Chilworth that you begin to climb the ridge. Chilworth itself is a pleasant enough little village but aside from a church and a post office it offers little in the way of amenities (make sure you have stocked up in Winchester, there are no drinks/refreshment facilities until The Milburys pub in Beauworth about eight miles from Winchester.)
South Downs near Chilworth, Hants
Once you have climbed the woodland outside of Chilworth and started walking along the ridge, the views are already spectacular even in the height of summer where everything is usually blanched in high noon sun. The day was definitely getting hotter and the hazy cloud was clearing away. I bumped into a farmer who was out in his Land Rover ahead of a combine harvester who noticed I was taking pictures. We had a quick conversation but he was inclined to agree with me that it was God’s own country out there. It was a shame the M3 was slithering out of view in the distance still but that would soon be gone.
Cheesefoot Head is where you cross the A272 for the first time (and first of only two times despite it following you for much of the first half of the Downs) and ahead of you is a massive chalk bowl in in the landscape. There have been a number of music festivals here in the past including the very popular in its day Homelands dance festivals (get your kicks with some glow sticks uhhuh!) Cheesefoot Head makes a reasonably decent place to stop and take in the view and rest for ten minutes to get a drink of water. That said, there isn’t much room for shelter on the trail itself here but I didn’t really care that I had to just sit amongst the still dewy clumps of grass in the verge. The next stop was the Milburys and time seemed to be somewhat against me as my guide suggested the pub shut at 2pm for the afternoon. And by my estimation, I would probably only just about get there for 1.30pm — the heat was definitely on, not just on my shoulders.
Cheesefoot Head
Cheesefoot Head to Beauworth
By the side of Cheesefoot Head runs a nice clump of trees which offered a great deal of shade but also some great photographic opportunity.
Apart from the walk and the love of the Downs, the photographic journey was a very important part of this walk for me. I still shoot film and will continue to do so as I am a very keen black and white photographer and the process of developing and printing my films in the darkroom is very much part of the attraction of photography as the taking pictures process itself. Walking through the clump by the side of Cheesefoot Head offered an amazing palette of shadows and shards of light rained down through the canopy.
This is one of the sections of the South Downs Way where you head north for any length of time (approximately a mile and a half) as most of the walk follows a definite south-easterly tangent. After breaking out from the clump of woodland the countryside opened up and on the left were the intimidating tall crops of what I can only presume as being corn as it looked instantly familiar to the tracts if land of the northern USA which I had travelled through in 2005. Whilst there was not hundreds of miles of it this time, it certainly made me feel like I was back on the motorcycle as I was in ’05 travelling along by the riverside in South Dakota.
After walking for nearly an hour through the glorious East Hampshire countryside, I crossed the A272 for the last time on the journey which whilst odd to feel a little sentimental for a road but it is a wonderful drive through the East Hampshire and Sussex countryside, a world away from the madness on the M27 and A27 the other side of the Downs. I was nearly at the Milburys and all that stood in my way was a climb up towards Beauworth. Whilst not steep, the heat had taken something of a toll on me as I was feeling quite tired (I had probably only walked about eight miles so far, it felt further!) This part of the trail joined up with a very minor country lane which lead up towards the cross roads where the Milburys pub sits. There were plenty of other people there out for Saturday lunch, somewhat more well dressed looking than I was with a heavy pack and I dare say a slightly glowing complexion!
Beauworth/The Milburys to Exton
After having a very good lunch and a drink at The Milburys (note that this pub closes in the afternoons) I did not have that far to go to get to Exton. For the start of the section you walk beside a minor road before ducking off at Wind Farm (which I thought was going to be a Windfarm!) and on towards Beacon Hill (the first Beacon Hill) — the view is worth taking in though you will have to backtrack a little to pick up the path. Largely the route is now all downhill from here into the Meon Valley and Exton itself. I took this as an opportunity to get a little bit of a snooze in, overlooking the wonderful Meon valley. It was around half past three so I had made excellent time and there was no real hurry to get down to Exton and get pitched up for the night. Sure, this was one of three nights where the plan had me as camping but the tent I was carrying was so simple to put up you could do it blindfolded or with a camera in one hand (as you shall find out!)
After a good hour I decided to make my way down the hill into Exton and felt somewhat tired. The snooze didn’t help as I was a bit dozy and the heat of the day had taken its toll on me as there was not a massive amount of shade available on this section of the South Downs Way. After stopping at the pub for a drink and a snack (I felt so hungry again!) I was kindly picked up by the owner of Corhampton Lane Farm where I was pitching up for the night (they also do bed and breakfast) which was about a mile away down a B road which seemed to have the majority of traffic quiet legally going down it at 60mph, but this speed was nerve wrackingly fast for a weary hiker!
After pitching up, I took in the view on the horizon as the sun went down and was tucked up in the tent by 9pm. I was quite exhausted and had a very big day ahead of me on Sunday – the 18 miles to South Harting where I would leave Hampshire and re-enter West Sussex, my home county. Despite the furious buzz of the fans in the barn drying out the harvested crop, it became rather sophorific in the end and dare I say slightly comforting when in the middle of the night you had to hot foot it out of the tend, across the dewy grass and cool as ice concrete into the other barn where a small but perfectly adequate loo was. That said, Eastbourne was still a week away, and that was quite a daunting thought.
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