Hartfield Circular – 6.9 miles

  Spring, it’s finally here, our favourite walking season – blue skies and new life.  Only a week since our last walk, yet somehow it felt much more than that.  The day looked promisingly clear as we headed out a little later than normal, selecting an all-new route, 45 minutes away.  Hartfield, just on the edge of the Ashdown Forest, is a little village we are fairly familiar with but had never actually done a walk from.  Having parked up at just shy of half-eleven on the High Street, we set off, into our Spring adventures.

  We started off with optimism (I even removed my coat before we began), heading out across the playing fields and away into the awaiting countryside beyond.  However, we hadn’t even crossed the green when we had our first warning of things to come.  The waterlogged grass sloshed over our toes, and on crossing the first stile, we were greeted with thick, slippery mud.  Within the first few minutes, I could feel a little dampness setting in, but the sun was still shining and the day was young, so this didn’t put us off one bit.

  After crossing what was an old railway line, we climbed onto a bridge through a scene that could have been out of the Shire, over what I was surprised to discover was the river Medway, in its much smaller, upstream form.  Awaiting immediately beyond was a series of visibly muddy and waterlogged fields, through which we waded.  The path did slowly lead uphill, which did improve conditions, but at no point was the ground anything short of squishy.

  Over the sparkling green fields we went, the sounds of bluetits and woodpeckers filling the sky, the tracks of a whole herd of deer beneath our feet.  The sun-soaked fields soon gave way to a patch of dappled copse.  As we entered, we found ourselves within a fairy-esque woodland world of delicate moss, tiny mushrooms and thousands of fresh shoots decorating the floor.  With the sunlight finding plenty of gaps in the still bare canopy, the space amongst the trees was particularly well-lit, bringing out a green glow.

  This upward path then brought us out into another soggy farmer’s field, containing a herd of sheep at the far end, and after navigating a couple more muddy gateways we made our first road crossing of the day into a field of crops beyond.  At the end of this we found an idyllic little campsite set beside a large pond, with the path leading away out the other side.  To leave the campsite, the path simply carries on through a gap in the fence.  However, this was so muddy that we decided to clamber over the remains of a large tree trunk to one side, avoiding the worst of it.  I negotiated the object with relative ease, however Beth decided to go about it in the most bizarre way possible, ending up in a position resembling a low-budget and uncoordinated Spiderman.

  The hedgerow opened up on the right a few yards later, leading us through to a few farm buildings, past a cottage, and on through to a field of ewes, who were a little wary of us, even for sheep.  Skirting around the next couple of fields led us downhill into a small dell, and across a little stream.  The sunlight found its way through to the bank, where I was delighted to find it shining down onto a patch of newly growing wild garlic – one of my favourite things about spring!  Not yet in flower, the smell was not as immediately present as it often is, however by picking a leaf and bringing it to my nose, I got my first waft of the season.

  Back up the other side and into a wide open field, the path cut straight through the middle, before leading us across our second lane of the day.  As we crossed and entered the next field, we spotted a hill looming to the right, up which we were sure the day’s walk would lead.  Indeed, after making our way down one field (in which I splashed a lot of muddy water all the way up Beth’s leg), through a dividing copse, and around the edge of the next (there was allegedly a path across, but we couldn’t find it!), we found ourselves standing at the foot of a path that we could see, led distinctly uphill.

  Fortunately, we didn’t huff and puff as much as we might have expected, following the trees all the way to the top, which only took maybe five minutes, even managing to spot a couple of distant deer on the way.  This soon proved to be well worth the effort, as we approached another farm.  Firstly we came across a very handsome-looking ram, who eyed us closely as we passed, but very politely allowed us to walk through his field.  Secondly, we came across a pair of pet donkeys very shortly after.  This was obviously the best, particularly when the grey one wandered over to the fence line for scratches and cuddles – he was such a good boy!  Our path then continued through trees, the sound of running water never far away.  It was also during this time that I realised the smell of a wild garlic leaf gets stronger after being picked, as it began to waft out of my pocket.

  The woods eventually gave way to the beginnings of the long driveway belonging to Bolebroke Castle, down which we plodded, stable surface beneath our feet for the first time.  As we had started the walk quite late, we were also aiming to stop for lunch quite late too, and Beth had spotted a tearoom on the map, which she had hoped meant a village of some kind, and a bench to sit on.  However, when we eventually reached the end of the impressive driveway, we found that the tearoom, welcoming as it looked, wasn’t actually in a village at all.  There were inviting-looking seats outside, but we felt that they wouldn’t appreciate us pulling out our lunch.  With a sigh we walked on, hoping to find a spot for lunch, however after crossing the busiest road of the day and wandering a little further down the lane opposite, we gave up and stood on a grassy verge, eating our long-awaited lunch.  Next time, we agreed, we would not pack food, and instead stop in at the tearoom – a much better option, than what was ultimately one of our worst lunch spots to date!

  By this point we had covered a good three-quarters of the day’s adventure, so we set off expecting an easy ride in.  Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us, we had stopped just before a couple of sharp inclines, and our lunches suddenly felt rather heavy on our stomachs.  Once we had ascended to the top of the next hill, we found ourselves crossing a field that was obviously in rotation for horses, which meant that the heavy hoof fall had made it particularly muddy indeed, especially near the gate, which required very careful navigation.  Once through, we passed by the ponies responsible for the obstacle, blissfully munching their hay, before walking through another small glade promising an abundance of bluebells and wild garlic in the weeks to come.

  This then opened up into a wide field before us and in the distance, the finish line was in sight.  We found ourselves happily plodding downhill through the sunny crops and with only a mile or so to go, you might have thought that would be that – we certainly did!  However, the end of the walk was packed with a few more surprises.  First up was a heavily flooded path as we approached our crossing back over the Medway, which required us to cling closely to the fence line before making it to the other side.  After hopping back over the old railway, we found ourselves making our way into another soggy field, Beth almost becoming the first person to land on their bums of the day.

  Across the other side of the field, awaited what was possibly Pathfinder’s greatest obstacle to date.  The route led us through a space in the hedge, which was of course heavily flooded.  On previous occasions that day, there had at least been a semi-achievable way through, if you were careful.  However, here, the water was so deep and widespread, that it was not so straightforward.  Managing to find an acceptable route to the hedge itself, we then faced the challenge of getting through the gap without submerging to our ankles.  As we crouched low beside the spikey bush, we spotted a large stick protruding from the water, next to which, largely covered by the hedge, were the remains of the old metal gate post.  And attached to that, was a long, rusty chain.

*Cue Indiana-Jones music*

  Foot firmly on the stepping stick, I grasped the metal chain, pulled it tense, and swung my weight out low over the water, around the bulky, prickly hedge.  Fortunately the old chain held, and I was able to carefully manoeuvre myself over the water and successfully onto the other side.  Now it was Beth’s turn, and as she grasped the chain and swung herself just as low out over the water, her fancy camera dangling perilously close to the surface.  Thankfully it did not touch and like a hero, she pulled herself to safety.  I loved this and was just pronouncing it as the cherry on the cake, when across the field, we spotted the real cherry.

  Lambs.

  I had commented that morning how there was a chance that we would see the first lambs of the season that day, but in all honestly, had considered it unlikely.  Yet there they were, happily bumbling about together in the early throws of spring.  Delighted, we made our way into their field as the path fortunately led us across its bottom, and as we drew closer realised that these lambs weren’t even particularly young.  They had a certain amount of chunk to them, and to our surprise already looked to be several weeks old.  It took us a long time to cross this last field, as you might imagine, spending a lot of time cooing over the lambs, who seemed curious at our presence.

  As we made our final approach back into Hartfield, we managed to go slightly off course, due largely to us paying attention to the lambs rather than the map, and found ourselves coming in from the wrong side.  No matter, we later identified where we went wrong and will know for next time!  As it was, we found ourselves arriving back at the car almost four hours after we left – not a great pace – covered in mud, but thoroughly thrilled with the day’s ventures.

  Before we went into the pub across the road, we changed into our trainers and I was amused to find that the combination of damp socks and hot feet had left my boots visibly steaming – nice.  We then made our way over to the Anchor Inn, where we had stopped on more than one occasion previously.  When the weather turns warm, I do enjoy a cider in a sunny beer garden, and I was most grateful to the sun for making one final appearance before finally going in, to make this the perfect way to round off a brilliant day.

  This, in short, was a fantastic walk.  We will certainly be doing it again, and I cannot recommend it enough – simply the perfect start to spring!

Original route was provided by Kent ramblers, and is available at https://www.kentramblers.org.uk/KentWalks/public/walk_094.htm?fbclid=IwAR2qSxnPyjgYTzUrNtEOjEmQVDzjYnxjxmZakColWrVd42x9HMcddbmsgKY