For our next autumnal adventure we made a welcome return to one of our very favourite walks, and indeed days out. We parked up at the tiny Winchelsea station and headed off at about a quarter to eleven. The day was bright and would have been almost warm, had it not been for the whipping sea breeze and occasional cloud cover in the mix. As a result, coats, gloves and Beth’s woolly hat made their first appearances in many months.
The small winding road from the train tracks soon brought us to the day’s first footpath. We left the concrete behind and almost immediately began to climb up a steep rise, past chirping blue tits and coal tits, as views across the Rother valley opened to our right. We paused at the top at the site of the old windmill to take in the view and open ourselves up to the bracing winds at the summit.
We turned our back on the countryside temporarily and made our way into the small but beautiful village of Winchelsea. This little hilltop settlement is like something from another time, and seems untouched by the world below. All too soon however we were back out the other side and crossing back into the rolling coastal countryside that makes up the first half of the route. We descended down the path past flutterings of colourful leaves beneath a brilliantly blue sky. All was peaceful in the world.
Just at this moment, a peculiar and somewhat unsettling cry came from a small copse off to our right. An almost unearthly screeching ripped through the trees, taking us both completely by surprise. This was either the loud calling of perhaps a nest of young birds or prey, or, as Beth immediately proclaimed, “some creature from the netherworld”. Either way, we promptly continued on our way and crossed into a far more comforting field of sheep. We made our way through a series of sweeping fields with further occasional sheep for company, pausing for a quick refuel at the day’s highest point, where we sat and looked out over the sea.
A few fields further on, and we walked up and over a small shoulder of land, past a rather interesting cottage with a large windmill in its garden. We have always thought this rather interesting, but never thought much beyond that. However, having just found it on google, I now realise that it is rather more interesting. This is “Hog Hill Mill”, and completely unbeknownst to us, we have been merrily walking past Sir Paul McCartney’s recording studio this whole time – so there you go!
Just after the windmill, we made a distinct and sharp turn left, up a narrow lane. This marked a significant directional change, and the turning point of the walk, as we now headed toward the marshes and waterways at the foot of the hills. The descent downhill was slow and steady, and out across in front of us, we could see a significant herd of either deer or cattle. The path finally levelled out as we reached water level and made our way through the middle of the tall, whispering reeds carpeting the marsh. This is the Pannel Valley reserve area, and as we crossed one of its many water ways were able to conclude that the animals were in fact large deer, not cows.
We walked along the water’s edge, where it soon joined the Royal Military Canal, with the sky turning notably grey, the day’s helping of sun now spent. This long stretch along the bank makes up most of the return route. With the water to our left we kept an eye out for waterfowl, and to our right, stretching away across the vast area of flat and well drained land, were scatterings of sheep and cattle; it was like looking at an English Serengeti. We eventually met back up with the road, along which we turned back down the lane that makes up both the start and end of the route, and made it back to the car at about half past one – a pretty good pace!
Of course, the Winchelsea Walk wouldn’t be complete without the obligatory trip to Rye afterward. We left the station and arrived in our usual car park about ten minutes later, and ascended the familiar steps into the heart of Rye. Its historical Dickensian vibe makes it a very popular spot, and on this day in particular, the narrow streets and cobbled lanes were rather busy. Nonetheless, this did not stop us having a lovely time. We first bought ourselves a couple of portions of chips for lunch, which we ate and shared a can of Fanta, sat at the foot of the castle looking out over the old port. We then went for a mooch about the old shops, picked ourselves up a cake each from Simon the Pieman to eat for dessert later, and finally treated ourselves to some fancy hot chocolates from Knoops. We enjoyed these sat upon a bench, before descending back down to the awaiting car, and began the one-hour journey home.
This is, and always will be, a staple in our walking roster. The coastal nature of the walk offers a unique slice of High Weald walking, found only along this sliver of the AONB. The historical, old world magic of Rye is also something that you won’t find so strongly elsewhere, and we would love to spend more time there in the future.
Matthew G. Huggins 