South Downs way: day 8,9,10 Housdean to Alfriston to Eastbourne to Alfriston

Day 8

Day 8, yay, final day of the downs. Mum was wrong about it staying warm last night- I kept having to put on layers. My decision to get up early to avoid the heat was revoked by sleeeping past my alarm, I got up at 7, and at that time the sun struck my tent and it heated up quickly while I packed away. I finished my roll of foot tape. The camp is full of little chirping birds, they hop around while I eat my breakfast. This is my second favourite camp, the people are all very nice here (Saddlescombe was great but facilities a bit minimal for top two!). My tummy is unsettled- I have nasty poos, I really hope it clear s up. I eat by a pot filled with Beautiful little purple white and blue flowers- they only have lower petals, patterned so that they make satin runways for bees, guiding to the nectar. Set off just after 8:30. Didn’t manage to drink much this morning so I’ll try and drink most my two litres before the Yha. Over the road under the railway then deep cool of hedges. Cubes of straw on the sun drenched hull. Onto new downs- these ones are different, I’m in the downs now, all the previous days ran along the scarp edge at the edge of the downs, on the Weald border, now downs surround me on either side as I move south. Hot at nine o’clock. A bright yellow butterfly the colour of my rucksack goes by. Fields full of poppies. Yesterday there was a paper on a fence in memorial to those killed in tragic accidents on the downs in ww2. These lands are so similar to the lands of the western front in France, the same chalk, the same poppies blowing in the wind, forever a memory of the blood. The field of poppies is replaced by a field of dandelions , bright sunward facing yellow. Small birds of prey hovering on the wind then diving into the grass. Stop for breath near the hill top, broad views down from cold coombe, a welcome breeze. Behind that windmill there are big exposed white cliffs, I think its t he edge of the river Ouse’s plain. A horse rider on the skyline. Bad signage took me in to a wrong field so I scrambled a fence to join Juggs road, used to carry fish from Brighton to country towns. Housdean camp looks distant. Magnificent View for a stop in gorse bushes. The tops of the downs or spotted with dew ponds and tumulluses - one stands out on a summit ahead. Tracks wiggle in the downs to my south, rising to end with the sea- between my ridge and those tracks the spurs of the downs interlock in a beautiful weave: right cows, left grass, right grass, left wheat, right trees, left white track, sea. And a white track peeps in and out at the bottom of the valley. The sea horizon melts into the sky in a haze. Lewes comes in to view dense where the river plane cuts through the downs, leaving an outlier hill (with the white cliffs) between it and the Weald. And then again those cliffs I saw yesterday at the sea, closer now though still far. The scarp falls steep on my left - ‘bottoms’ or dry valleys creating steep cuts like amphitheatres. It looks like the final hill on that outlier down is ringed with ramparts of an old fort: guarding the plain. Stupidly (for not double checking the ground) I lost my snack for today- I reckon when I threw my bag over the fence. was my final pack of Nairn’s busicuits so annoying- I only have two nakd bars left, needed both lots to get me through today and tomorrow. But I eat a ‘blueberry muffin’ bar on an old bench looking out over the white cliffs of the outlier hill at 10:30 I’m progressing as I expected which is good. A very bright straight concrete road over the hill top, easy walking but as dazzling as is new haven ahead and the sea beyond, and the bright pale sky. I walk sometimes with my eyes closed , smelling the smells- cut straw, sea wind, hearing the crickets buzz, rhythmic squeak sqwosh of my bag, tapping pole. Boiling kilometres. A sdw sign post points on and back: eastern hemisphere Western Hemisphere, must have crossed the gmt line. At t he top of the next hill hedges provide shade over the field and I sit in the long grass sending off a cloud of heat. I didn’t sweat to much yesterday but today I’m completely sticky. I sit for quite a while but my temperature cools again which is good. Rodnell, where Monks House was apparently the home of Virginia Woolf- she took her life in the Ouse nearby. Southease is pretty, with a tiny wooden rectory house and church with a circular towar from the 12century I wish I could go in To see the wall painting. There might once have been a harbour in the village, when the river was bigger. I swing on the swing on the church yard. Over the wide flood plane. And over the river Ouse swing bridge. The Egrets way runs along the river. A train comes into the station So I go over the bridge . Gluten free Lunch at the Yha is limited, but I need to save my pita for tommorrow. Crisps apple banana ginger beer and crimbles macaron and eat in the courtyard. Little birds flit to the dog bowl to drink. They don’t let you use they’re toilets so i move on quickly knowing I’ll need somewhere. Over a fancy bridge and back up to downs. I go straight up the hill rather than round, breathing quickly. The views back are stunning. I can see the river Ouse flowing into the sea, and it’s whole course between there and the white cliffs inland, where the flood defenses stand stark in contrast to the irregular downs. Dandelion tufts float past me in the breeze. Itford hill had a horrible false summit. Until I finally see the top of the trig point. It’s set in the rim of a dew pond. These kms are tough. The two trees I’m aiming for don’t want to get any closer. I feel sick - it’s better than needing diarreah but not nice. Sick and bored, and tired. Stupidly I miss the trees thinking they’ll be shade in a bit ahead. There’s none. I finally sit under the shadow of the radio masts. Like an idiot I manage to pour a chunk of water away, though thankfully most my refilled waters in the water bag. I eat a baby bell and peparami to get some more energy. The sun moves west too fast for me- my shadows already moved 2m away by the time I get on. A big kite bird swoops overhead. Even the sheep are trying to find shade huddling together , heAds bowed into the shadow of their neighbour. I’m thankful for a bench in a car park but there’s absolutely no shade up here. And there’s still a long chunk to go. Hundreds of black birds land on a hill, as I beat out the kilometres half by half, then fly off in a flock. Dreary dreary Kms. Eyes often closed, mind twisting, view flattened (one eye covered by my wind blown hat). but finally-thankfully- I get to Firle beacon, trig point hidden in a tumulus. Where I collapse onto a warm mound. A new view has broken out before me, another coastline, I’m presuming it must be Eastbourne. I would be excited if not so tired. A train runs slowly over the Weald.

Could those trees on a distant hill behind- peaking out between two sets of nearer downs, be the Chanctonbury ring? That cheers Me up a bit. Down below is Firle, the country garden of a big house spotters with oaks, and Firle tower -a folly- is obvious- and Charleston farmhouse was apparently a home to the Bloomsbury group. I must be wrong- sadly about Eastbourne. The guide book says the start of the seven sisters can be seen beyond The cuckmere haven, so its much further still. Another train. Apparently there was an Iron Age village up here. I wonder how they would have got water. The guide book says the view ‘ stirs the spirits of our wind blown ancestors, and share with them the Empty miles’. I’m glad he agrees they’re Empty. Another baby bel. The wind keeps blowing dust in my eyes. There’s a big cruise liner on the sea. It’s a long way to go. I don’t sit terribly long There are funny clouds forming in the sky. I wonder if they harbour bad weather changes. The cruise ship looks like it’s headed for new haven. There harvesting in the next field, throwing dust into the air. No I checked maps.me and I was right first time, that is Eastbourne, phew what a relief, the other bank is a horizon away. That makes me happier: from the top of bostal hill I can see the start of the seven sisters as promised- not much but I can see the location. A land rover comes along saying wide vehicle, which I thought a bit unnecessary then a combine harvester follows over the hill, I always forget that it’s for the vehicle behind, I remember once having a bit of a shock forgetting that on tiddington road.

. The last few kms are rescued from boredom by a cyclist stopping to walk them with me and Chatting-he’s done it in three days and heading to the end . I’ll need to look up his Instagram. Marcin travels on bike. I go into Alfriston rather than turning off to my campsite It’s much more delightful than I expected. I get here at four- not bad. Amazing quirky historic buildings. A spitfire flies overhead( I only notice because people shout it out!). Clouds have come in quickly . I buy and orange juice and pom bears. Then to great surprise it starts to rain. I make it to camp where it says to set up so I do, they don’t have showers which I’m surprised by because I was sure they did. I try washing myself from the sink then wash some clothes. I phone home - don’t want to know about the weather - what’s the saying, worrying doesn’t take away Tomorrow’s trouble it takes away today’s peace. This is very much a family campsite- another huge tent loud families one, there’s such a difference between those geared for outdoors stuff and family holiday ones, these are so much more unfriendly, uncaring. And also I’m really shocked at how much they’ve disregarded COVID. Theyve packed campers in, and there’s no social distancing at all in the toilets, not even signs requesting it. I try waiting till there’s no one in but someone always barges past. The suns back out thankfully . I cook my pasta- a huge quantity as I pour it all in. Th e pressure of my gas has dropped. Looks like it’s going to be cold breakfast tommorrow- which is fine. They don’t even have soap in half the toilets. I wash my feet at the drinking water tap. An ice cream van arrives, soon trailing a line (that observes no social distancing whatsoever). I actually don’t feel very safe here for COVID - it’s concerning. Cars drive in and out, throwing dust over my drying. I think The father and son ( I know the dads names Ben but should ask) have gone into the village for tea . The wind keeps flys away which is nice. So much pasta. I think I’ve eaten all the peparami not much motivation to get through the rest of it. I pinch something g on my face and get blood over my fingers - a mosquito trying to have a meal of me, is that my blood, or the mosquito? Apparently this wind isn’t keeping things away! ‘That tent is tiny!’ I hear. I wash up in the sinks (it says don’t but I’m not walking down the drive to the washing up place, finish my litre and get ready for bed. It’s getting very windy. I’m a bit concerned about my tent not being secure enough.

Day 9

I set my alarm for 6, got up 6:40, though I was awake at four. I’ve been excited for this day, but it’s hard to be as excited when your morning tired. I’m so happy to see a glorious blue sky. I’m ready to go by 7:30, the father and son are still Having breakfast, taking a slower day. My food bag is tiny now after being the biggest thing I had. I finish my litre. The camp looks like some sort of festival so full of mismatched tents. I’m back in Alfriston by eight. The church is grand: a huge chunky tower, surrounded by a wide green. , I can see why it’s called ‘the cathedral of the downs ‘. A squirrel hops along the graveyard footpath. The doors are open and morning light pours through the stained glass window. A single candle is lit in the solitary inside. I also walk by the Clergy house, the national trusts first house purchased for £10. A squirrel sits quizzically on the thatched roof, as if it were one of those thatched animal decorations. Things are quiet. I sometimes wish I could be motivated to wake really early , and be walking by sunrise, for the serenity of the early morning, but I’d be tired! Over the narrow river cuckmere to smells of fresh plants. A lady chats with me in the bridge. The path leeves the bridleway. And I walk south along the flood plane of the river. The sky’s no longer pure blue- little white clouds dot it, but hopefullly won’t cloud over. Someone’s picking black berries on the bushes. Beautiful stillness- bird call, crickets, sun dipping behind a cloud then lighting again. I walk along a raised embankment, and the rivers channeled into little streams to help with floods. A very different river to the Ouse or the Arun I’ve crossed before, much smaller here. The downs rise again to the north of the path. I like not being on the bridleway. I wonder how my cyclist guy got on last night, he wanted to do the coastal route. Round a bend some of the plane is flooded and shines bright in t he sun, between luminous green marshland. It reminds me of the mawddach. I see Izzys posted a cute post on Instagram about cotswold way. I saw what looks to be a horse carved into a nearby hill. Into Littlingotn which apparently had underground smugglers routes. There’s so many ancient inns in these villages. So many pretty flint cottages. Thatch cottage is tiled. The sloes look ripe There are huge vineyards on the opposite hill. I can see The white horse again (not amazingly impressive but nice ) , it is on a hill called high and over. The fields have all been harvested- when i set off all were full of crop. Quite a lot of cloud cover now. Descent past Charleston manor then climb up into the big Fristom forest, planted to protect the water supply. I stride through the calm cool forest and head to the church in Westdean for a break. The flint rectory is wonderful, the whole village , tucked between the woods, is snaked with flint walls, and wonky tiles, and ancient buildings- I think the ruins of a monastery?. An unusual squat Norman church. A passing walker comments to me ‘stunningly peaceful’. I eat 21/2 stroop waffles. I’m glad I left the route to sit here, it might be the most beautiful village I’ve visited, being so peaceful. A very Steep set of steps back out in the woods. A sudden incredible view. The cuckmere river meanders like a curled up serpent. Paddle borders slowly move along its surface. Shallow downs and the sea- so unexpected, so beautiful, so serene. - this is prettier than the Mawddach! Down the hill to Exceat, a village killed off. by the plague. COVID is a terrible disease, but when you think of the horrific scale of bubonic plague it’s inconcievable how people coped with the loss. The sdw takes a higher path above the Cuckmere river with amazing views down. I can see some ww2 shelters, protecting the eustary. the rivers a dark blue and the sand and the grass blend so perfectly. On the slope a bird (falcon?) dives for prey. A man with a long lease takes photos. Canoeists on the river. The sea is turquoise at its outlet. Shadows dapple the land. A shawl of clouds behind me. I walk quicker I want to see the seven sisters with blue sky. A stone peaks out on the hill top marking the site of exceat church. It must have been stunning perched above the river there. Now facing the white buildings on cuckmere haven. A pretty old farm huddled in the shelter of haven brow. Hundreds of Seagulls are doing that circling thing again.

Yellow flowers star the short grass. Climbing up to haven brow. Which gives a great view of the beach on the river mouth bordered by the two brows and seaford head. A little bit of pristine white cliff peeks out round seafood head. The river isn’t actually connecting to the sea, I presume at high tide though they’ll merge. At the top I turn around and , wow!, turquoise sea, white clouds, orange cliff green grass, twirling river, and yellow wheat fields in the distance. And then.. breaking over the top the eastern views: a lighthouse perched on a green hill. Folding white cliffs running in curtain, in And out. Sparkling sea, green turf leading to the edge- th seven sisters. The chalk is perfect white where it’s exposed in the cliff top. As if rendered in a digital drawing. I lift my eyes from the coast and look further out, vast sea: from bright glistening ripples of light at the cliff edge to deep turquoise fading into the haze of the horizon. Down into short bottom up onto short brow. Down into limekiln bottom up onto rough brow. Down into rough bottom up to brass point-half way. A sticking out bit of chalk cliff looks ready to fall. A spit fire -the same one?- flys over the coast. Bedding planes of flint form perfect lines in the chalk. The cliff of flagstaff point is concave. My first view of the sea below the cliffs, it’s milky white with chalk. So much for the idea of getting down to a beach at the cliff Bottom- any one down there would be in distress. I rest on Flagstaff brow, beautifully warm in the sun. I’ve ploughed out the kilometres today, although there’s actually much further to go still than I thought. I sit a while and eat a bar and refill water. My left heel stings. . Flat hill. flat hill bottom. Some nice people recognise me and chat to me/ / I reckon they’re from last campsite. Baily’s hil. Very windy. Michaels dean- with a memorial stone to two brother killed in ww1. Call of seagulls. It’s odd I’ve seen far more backpackers here than I have on the whole walk. Turning the map page- onto the last page!(well excluding tomorrow’s bridleway). There’s a cave at the bottom of one of the cliffs. Another fancy propeller plane , with thank u nhs painted on its bottom. Descent to birling gap, shining with cars and with out of place looking Victorian Buildings. . I manage to dodge the huge line for the toilets to get to the water tap and find a nice shaded bench for lunch. The father and son sit nearby for their lunch too. I’m very glad I didn’t eat it yesterday as it would be horrendous to qui up here. To be fair the crowds are doing quite a good job social distancin. This afternoon should be interesting, I hope I don’t get too tired and miss it all. The father and son go on, say bye and good luck. A lovely couple sit at the end of my bench and we talk after I’ve eaten, it’s they’re first day out as he’s not been allowed due to being ill. I look at a great series of photos showing the receding cliffs. Then set off up the next rise. A flock of birds are doing the mirmiration thing. There’s apparently an old settlement on the top of this hill. зI wonder how far it was from the sea. The encircling boundary shown on the os map falls off into the sea. Beautiful view back while heading to belle tout light house. I’d love to be here at night under the stars. The lighthouse was built of Aberdeen granite, it was replaced because the light would be lost in fog and in 1999 was physically moved away from the cliff. There’s someone inside (it’s private house). I stand fairly near to the edge listening to the pebbles roll . It’s been beautifully blue but now cloud cover is coming in. I wonder if it might rain. Then passing by belle tout I see the red and white lighthouse at the bottom of The white cliffs l: such a spectacular setting. Apparently they lowered the builders and stone from the cliff top by cableway to build it. The views stunning though ruined a bit by the car park and road. It’s almost warmer under the cloud than before. The trees surrounding hodcombe farm are weather blown and hug it round. Up a hill down a hill. The lighthouse looking great again. Looking back, where some people are sitting the cliff top is sticking out over the edge! It’s only two but feels a lot latter maybe beCause I got up early. Another hill. Now I can see all the way back to the cuckmere estuary. a line of photographers set up taking photos of the lighthouse. There are pulleys leading into it from the cliff top. Keep climbing. I’m baking in this humidity. Up and up again to beachy head. There I find a point with a really good view of the lighthouse. , a woman kindly offers to take my photo, / I sanatise after! I read the dedication placek and head for the trig point. Then round the head I can see Eastbourne : Ferris wheel and pier and white tower. After that thr sdw moves away from the more popular footpaths around a pretty sea facing scrubland sloop with butterflies thistle slow honeysuckle and blackberry As I start descending probably the town spreads our as a huge sprawl. A very steep descent and I reach the end of the sdw - well done. There Ben and his son are sitting with there family/ it’s so impressive that he did the whole thing. I walk parallel to the sea. It’s a long way from the edge of town to the pier. The sea air makes me thirsty. It’s a long walk I pass lots of ice cream places but promise to get beyond the pier before I buy any thing (guest house doesn’t open till 4, it’s 3:30). I buy ice cream: mint choc chip and coffee and phone home while eating it on the beach. After it’s past four so I head to my guest house. The pebbly ground tests my calves getting off the beech. The guesthouse is lovely, as I’d hoped. my little room at t he very top of the house (reminds me of curzon b&b in maryport) is lovely - painting of a harbour on the wall. I spend a long time showering and washing things- wash my hair with shampoo for the first time and then make my first cup of tea of the trip. Delicious. I research places for dinner. At six I walk down the Main Street looking for zinc oxide tape and fish and chips- can’t find the first but que up for the second somewhere I know does gf. It’s a long wait. But finally ready - I’m glad they’re cautious. I’m very thankful that the - wonderfully old fashioned- toilets are open by the pier. I walk back north to the sea nearer my guest house. The problem with Eastbourne is that it faces east so doesn’t get a sunset. But I choose a section of beach with the last bits of sun peaking through a gap in the buildings. The fish and chips are really good - was expensive but I’ve never had fish and chips I enjoyed like this before. Sadly it goes cold quickly in the sea breeze which makes difficult eating. I luckily managed to find the little bit of beach that had the very last of the sun. After I’ve eaten as much as possible I finish with a dip up to my legs in the sea. It’s warm- is expected it to be cold. And the pebbles rolling over my feet are therapeutic but the waves are pretty crashing. I think it must drop away quickly. Standing here with my feet manicured by the sea and the pebbles I feel pretty proud of what I’ve done. Somehow it was so much harder than the cotswold way. And this luxury feels like an earned reward. Although my legs are a lovely temperature in the water I get cold- wait till 7:45 then I’ll dry off. I turn to look east. The direction I’ve been heading - could I go on further? Maybe. Not sure I’d want to though. A final burst of sunlight - it breaks out from under a cloud. I’ll stay just a little longer e although the tide might reach my boots soon. The golden domes of the pier glint in the late sun. The breeze warms my legs and drys them. My guest house street is bathed by the sunset. I have a hot chocolate in my room, then I’ll shower again, and I’ll probably sort some of this stuff. I’m debating weather to go for a dip tommorrow, and what time I’ll need to get up if I do. I spend a long time sorting things then for bed. It’s funny how hard it is to try and sleep indoors after you’ve adjusted to the outside- I feel as if I’m baking under a sun in the warmth of the constant temperature.

Day 10

I wake to a traumatic dream, but lie in till my 6:40 alarm. Then I’m up, dressed and out to the beach for my morning swim. At first I’m cold and think I might not stay in, but I get In Fully and start swimming which warms me up. It’s a beautiful morning, clear sky’s, bright morning sun. I can’t see anyone else in the water yet- I think this is a late Morning early night resort, it was quiet yesterday evening too. There’s a beautiful sail boat out. I swim there and back between my groynes three times- swimming’s harder work than I remembered- I’m definitely hungry for breakfast. Then I stand in the sun drying myself , letting it warm my face. The slick green on the groynes is beautifully lit, and the tops are wheathrred in smooth curves- I left my phone in my room so sadly no photos . Shower, sorting stuff, and down for breakfast. I whoof down my first two toasts, but fill up with the cooked breakfast. This guesthouse is so beautiful- good value, perfectly clean, lots of things in the rooms- milk tea coffee biscuits shampoo, and wonderful breakfast- so happy I changed from the Glastonbury hotel (which didn’t look much more promising walking past than it did in reviews!). I suddenly feel very tired. I eat the cooked breakfast and make the second batch of toast into a jam sandwich for later. I double check my room then leave at 9:30- later than I’d planned but I enjoyed my morning. I walk down residential streets heading for m and s. Walking past a church pouring out wiTh the sound of gospel singing. Then shit I realise it’s Sunday so the shop isn’t open yet. Costas open so I buy Pom bears a flap jack and a coffee there- it’s nice that prices have gone down due to vat changes. I also try a Tesco’s. Outside another church the vicar is speaking in the courtyard. I take a very inefficient route but finally start to see to the sdw signs. Of the roads and into the country park. I greet An older couple ‘oh to be young and energetic ‘ she says. Not too sure about the energetic- actually no, I’ve Walked nine days, had a morning swim and now I’m powering up this hill, puffing but powering - I’m thankful. I see my first sdw way market at 10:45, and stop to sort my stuff - and have a breather- by a dew pond. Onward. Eastbourne all spread out below me. Through a golf course then along a hill, passing dew ponds and sheep fields. The way is fairly popular, though much less than the beachy head way. views down to Eastbourne and over to the western sea with its wind farm. Bushes and long grass. Fair breeze, warm sun. In the fields a path exposing the chalk shines bright white.top of the brow. I think this will be my last view of the Eastbourne coast: a view of the downs proper breaks out ahead. Escarpments dappled by the clouds. I can see eight big (container/tanker) ships heading west in the channel. On the other side of the brow the views really beautiful , Jevrington sinks between the rolling downs. A rich bushy path leading down between curved fields. Butterflies and wild flowers. I stop and sit on a lovely comfy style, bordering a wheat field spotted with poppies , sun on my back, and breeze blowing my hat. Although my eyes are tired it feels wonderful to be here, in the peace of the downs, seeming so far away from the urban coast over the hill. Cowslips dance in the breeze and birds twit. I descend into Jevringron feeling drowsy. I sit at the junction of Eastbourne lane for a bit. I’m half way. I have some stroop waffles for energy even though I feel a bit sick. Then pass what is apparently the birthplace of the banofee pie at hungry monk cottages. The church has Roman bricks in its construction. It has a beautiful bell tower window. Out of the village the elderberries are coming to ripeness. I stop in woods then out on the down see mum and dad making there way to me. We meet up and have lunch in a bushes wind shadow then make our way past the long man down pretty flowering fields to alfrisyon. Drinks on the rye by the church then I buy a cake in Alfriston the village and we head to the car park. Drive around the sites then home. Planing the next walk.