It was a fine, blue skyed, bright winter’s day, as we put on our boots to undertake a new route for our Sunday adventure. We set off late, at about quarter past midday, and the walk began from Eridge Sation. We have started routes from stations on several occasions now, but this one was possibly the nicest. The calls of several birds complimented the sound of running water nearby; Robins, Dunnocks, Blue Tits, Great Tits, Coal Tits, Magpies, Jackdaws and a Buzzard all had something to say for themselves on such a perfect day – which we knew courtesy of my new app, ‘Merlin Bird ID’ – didn’t even know two of these existed!
This station itself was part of the Spa Valley Heritage Railway, and as such was very nicely kept and a bit old-worldly, as we walked along the platform and up the stairs before Beth almost walked into the swinging automatic doors. We then turned right down Forge Road past a few nice houses, a handful of geese, and patches of woodland, where a few hopeful shoots of green had begun to rise. After a few hundred yards we took a surfaced bridleway on the left through the trees, where several more bird calls prompted me to check my app as we went. This went on until I dropped my phone on the hard surface beneath my feet, at which point I decided only to have a look when not moving. We passed some large shaggy rocks which turned out to be sheep, just after which the drive gave way and we picked up our first muddy path of the day. It ran alongside a small stream, which we crossed using a wooden bridge into the field beyond. A soggy stretch of green grass sloped upward beneath the warming sun, and it wasn’t long before I began to de-layer. At the top of the climb was Bullfinches Farm, and we carried on along a slippery footpath through another three fields, before sloping downward through a fourth and passing beneath some trees.
On the other side we carried on downhill along the edge of the trees, cautiously enjoying the effect of the water channelling its way through the earth we walked over. We crossed over another stream at the bottom, and walked back steeply uphill on the other side. This brought us out to a road, and we turned right into the hamlet of Motts Hill. Here we found a smattering of snowdrops, and the small settlement was one of the pleasant surprises of the day. There were only a handful of houses, and either there was a quirky culture, or just has one seriously quirky resident. During our brief time in Motts Hill, we spotted a wooden chap sitting at the side of the road, a shack and bicycle straight off the set of Death in Paradise, and a mannequin in a high-viz jacket and hard-hat, standing beside a chalkboard with the names of all the local pot-holes, which included a QR code taking you to a sight where you could rate them all out of ten!
We left this funny little place up through the woods beyond, which brought us out into a long, narrow field, still frosty at the edge and then up onto a ploughed and somewhat water-logged field. The path was barely visible at first, and I certainly deviated to avoid the worst of the water. Beth however resolutely made her way through the worst of the mud, and we reunited halfway across. We sloped back down past two WW2 pillboxes toward the railway. The path ran beneath a bridge, and when we reached it we found that a small lake had pooled before its entrance. Cautiously, we tip-toed along its slippery edge and clung to the tunnel’s bricks to manoeuvre ourselves successfully over the worst of the water. Ice crunched under our boots as we emerged out the other side, and crossed over another small stream, before coming back out onto another road. This road took us uphill into the quiet village of Groombridge, where we took another footpath leading past the edge of the primary school. Behind the school, we found ourselves walking out across a rail bridge, where a couple of abandoned carriages sat below. Strolling across from the other side came a couple with walking poles, gaiters and yet (as Beth pointed out a few minutes later) trainers. They were either Scandinavian, German, or Dutch (either way, the lady spoke with an accent), and they informed us that we were going to get wet socks, and that the path coming up was “ankle deep”. We thanked them for the warning and carried onward. At first, we thought they were overreacting, however it wasn’t long before we began having to carefully pick our way through the mud. A minute later, and I had given up trying to avoid the puddles, tiptoeing through whilst water entered through the growing holes in my boots. Beth too seemed to be finding it rather amusing, giggling herself all the way through the mud behind me! After this episode, we realised that it was now gone two o’clock. A few yard further on, we came across a nice, dry log, and took it as an opportunity to park our butts for lunch. Not a bad spot to stop; dry and relatively comfortable, faces in the sun and a pony in the adjoining field came up to the fence to say hello.
After lunch we walked to the end of the path and picked up the driveway into Birchden Wood. A path appeared soon on the left, and we descended downward beneath the trees. The path was still frozen in places, and at the bottom of the slope we crossed over a trickling stream beneath a large, toppled tree heavy with ivy – it was very fairytale-esque. After this the path grew muddy again, and we passed the entrance to Harrison’s Rocks. We stopped in to touch the rocks, before carrying on along the path. The train line ran to our right, whilst the large climbing rocks ran impressively to our left for a while, before we found ourselves once again with firmer surfaces beneath our feet. A large, fluffy dog quietly guarded an Oast House, at which point we turned right across both the train line and a river. This brought us back onto Forge Road, a little further up from where we had deviated at the start of the day. The sun had began to drop below the line of the hill, and as we walked in the shade, felt the day’s chill for the first time. We carried on along the road, and came to a halt when we spotted a herd of deer in the sloping field off to our right. A pair of stags rutted together, whilst the does danced about the hillside at our presence. The sun’s rays stretched over the brow of the hill, impressively silhouetting the handsome stag against the light. After this treat, we found ourselves returning to familiar territory, and walked our way back along the rest of the road.
We made our way back through the train station, where Beth picked up a leaflet for the line (sounds like they do some cool stuff) and we arrived back at the car about three hours after we had left. This was a really pleasant new route, a worthy addition to our roster and a fun winter adventure! Whilst it was quite muddy in places, it was February after all and that considered, not too bad. No one fell over (although I came close a couple of times), there was plenty of soft moss for Beth to touch, and similar to last week, this one offered a few fair stretches of road walking which does lend itself to winter walking.
Full route available at https://www.eastsussex.gov.uk/media/qvodtz53/eridge.pdf
Matthew G. Huggins 