For this week’s adventure, we decided to visit Winnie the Pooh country. This meant starting from the free car park in Hartfield, only one month after our most recent visit. We set off into a changeable day, ranging from warm and sunny to overcast with a chilly breeze, at about half past eleven. We left the village past the church and a field of lambs, and after only a couple more fields, we found ourselves entering the first patch of woodland of the day. Inside we found a rolling carpet of bluebells, after which we arrived at a quiet, extended driveway. We followed this for a while, passing some pleasant-looking cow fields belonging to Buckhurst Farm along the way with an amazing backdrop. Toward the end of the track, we spotted a few swallows flying about as well as a very brave crow seeing off a buzzard, before walking down the edge of one final cow field.
Next, we arrived at the day’s main woodland; the world-renowned Five Hundred Acre Woods. We almost immediately saw a deer running quickly across our path and away into the trees, as the route continued to rise slowly upward beneath our boots. The woods were bright, green and inviting, and also rather mystical, as spells of sunlight shone through from above. When we eventually emerged back into the open, we found ourselves looking down over Eeyore’s gloomy place. Gloomy, however, was not the word to describe it. Hundreds of bright yellow gorse bushes stretched out in front of us in great patches of colour, and as we walked between them, they gave off a sweet, distinctive and surprisingly strong scent. Across the way, we spotted what we knew would likely be a good lunch spot, with possibly even an ice cream van awaiting us. The route, however, had other ideas, and kept marching us onward through the gorse. After what felt like quite a while, the path did eventually turn back toward Hartfield, and thus back toward the lunch spot also. Sadly, when we did eventually arrive, we did not find an ice cream van, but there was a bench, and so we sat down to enjoy our lunch together.
By the time we got going again, the wind had picked up. We were also at the high point of the land (as displayed by the views!), and as a result, Beth’s hands were, for a little bit, freezing. We made our way past a few notable Winnie the Pooh spots, including Roo’s sandpit and a large stand of conifers, inspiring Beth to recall how the story ends. This led us steadily downward, which was a blessing thanks to the wind, and we temporarily met up with one of our previous routes. This was only for a short distance though, as soon deviated off to the right. This was a very important deviation, as it took us toward ‘Pooh bridge’ – a very important spot, of course. This was obviously a sentiment shared by many others, as the small car park was full, and the path down was full of people coming and going, including a member of last year’s Ben Nevis party – it’s a small world! Fortunately, when we reached the bridge, it was momentarily relatively quiet. So, of course, we had to play Pooh Sticks! We quickly made our way to the edge of the bridge, pulled out our pre-prepared sticks (the area is always void of twigs, for obvious reasons!) and dropped them in. Unfortunately, in our haste, we did not check what was already in the water below. Mine landed with a splash and disappeared beneath the bridge. Beth’s also landed with a splash, however immediately got caught up in one of the mini-dams caused by the thousands of others playing the same game. Naturally, I won.
We continued on our way, climbing back upward from the small stream, and soon came back out from the trees. The route took us across a couple of rising meadows and past some large houses, where Beth kind of but not really got nibbled by an investigative and happy corgi. We walked briefly down the side of a busy-ish road and crossed over to a gravel track. At the bottom of this, we made our way across a farmyard and smelled its inhabitants before we saw them. Inside the barn, we found a row of young cattle munching on hay, all of which looked up at our intrusion. The walk continued over the farmland and down to another small patch of bluebell-filled woods, before taking us to a former railway turned raised track – a recognisable path to us. Before we climbed up however, a detour presented itself. On the other side of one of its tunnels, appeared a field of lambs, with a footpath going through it, and of course we couldn’t resist. We crossed under the path through the tunnel (much less scary than last week’s!), and entered to say hello. On last month’s walk around Hartfield, we had heard lambs bleating from down by the river, and I suspect that we were now getting to meet those very individuals. We then climbed up to the path and continued a short way along, before we met up with the Hartfield route itself, which would ultimately be taking us back in. However, once again, a field of lambs to the left (probably the same field in hindsight) appeared, and so we went in to meet these lambs too. There was one very loud individual, whose friends were leaping about and having a great time along the riverbank.
Finally, we turned and headed back into Hartfield. We had planned to stop at the Bear Inn for a couple of pints, but the weather really wasn’t very beer garden friendly on this occasion, and so we sadly decided against it this time. We arrived back at the car about four hours after we left, which wasn’t a bad pace at all, and as we drove home, we became drowsy and a little more achy than normal for some reason!
This was a lovely walk through an idyllic, distinctive and inspirational part of the High Weald. The second half was of course busier, as it took us past all the must-see Winnie the Pooh spots, yet it complimented the quieter first half very well. There was a nice degree of variation and beasties along the way, and hopefully next time the sun will come out a little more and we can end it with a couple of pints too. The route also very much got the Beth seal of approval, who said several times on the way around how much she was enjoying herself.
Matthew G. Huggins 