Another adventure dawns, and we found ourselves arriving at Wadhurst Station around quarter past eleven on a bright autumnal day. On the way over we had overtaken a cyclist, who had then overtaken us as we got lunch from the Co-op. We had then overtaken him again, only for him to go past us as we got our boots on. As we reached the ticket machine to pay for our day’s parking, we came across him once more, stood with his back to us mockingly as he used the machine first. Had we known it was a race, we may have taken it more seriously.
We left the station along the side of a fairly busy and fast road. This is undoubtedly the worst bit of the route, so it is good to get it out of the way early, leaving miles of uninterrupted footpaths and quiet lanes ahead. We turned left off the main road and were soon stretching our way across the first series of fields. The day’s dew had not yet lifted, and a little did indeed seep into my socks as we went. The walk’s first real challenge came early on, in the form of a particularly steep hill to climb. This was in fact a sign of things to come. Somehow, we always forget just how hilly this route is, and throughout the rest of the day, there was almost continuous undulation to tackle. At the top of this first climb, we arrived at a quiet lane, which led down to another stretch of quiet, calm fields.
This was followed by a stretch of colourful woodland, where we spotted a couple of deer leaping through the crunchy leaves. On our last visit, I had managed to stack it through here, but I am pleased to say I stayed on my feet this time. We did however encounter another unexpected obstacle in our way. In an evidently recent turn of events, one of the trees had come down and crashed directly onto a small wooden bridge across a stream. The bridge itself was still in one piece, but there was clear damage, including most worryingly a large splinter in one of the most structurally integral bits of wood at its base. It also sloped slightly with the weight of the tree still on it, and with no rail remaining on that side, it did look a little precarious. I went first to test it, and it took my weight, meaning Beth was just fine. To be honest, I was hoping for a little more drama here, but no matter.
We emerged up out of the woods and continued to climb through more open farmland. Here we came across a large flock of sheep in a bowl-shaped field, who seemed quite nervous at our appearance. They stared and watched us until we were again at a satisfactory distance. A few minutes further on, we came across more animals, this time in the form of a herd of cows. Again, it was a good-sized herd, and they did look as though they had some younger cows with them. One of them showed an interest in us, however she did nothing more than watch as we walked along the edge of the large field, which stretched away and round the corner to our right. Much of the herd were already migrating in that direction, and all was peaceful.
At the bottom of this field we entered another small patch of trees, in which awaited some stone steps climbing up the other side of the gully. These seemed to have not been as well looked after since our last visit, as they were somewhat overgrown and the handrail had fallen. Still, they were usable and we were soon back out into the open air and climbing up toward and ultimately through a farmyard. Out the other side we passed a beautiful old cottage, before continuing across the rest of the farm. At this point we were getting quite hungry. I had a lunch spot in mind where we had sat previously, however I couldn’t quite remember where on the route it was. Since our encounter with the skittish sheep, I had been saying it wouldn’t be far away. However, it must have been almost an hour later that we actually arrived, and only after several more rises and falls through glowing woods and stretching fields. It was all worth it however, as this is one of my favourite lunch spots. We sat down beneath a handful of large trees in the corner of a field which sloped away before us. We parked our bums on a conveniently placed and slightly mossy rock, just visible through the earth. The day’s sun had dried it nicely, and so we rested and ate our lunch, surrounded by the peace and quiet of the Weald, with only the faint rustle of leaves and distant bleats in our ears. Entire weeks come and go, and our lunch stops remain my very favourite moments throughout them all.
Yet the rest of the route always awaits our boots. We rose back to our feet and continued on our way, our legs noticeably stiffer after allowing them to relax for a short while. Just before we came out onto a short bit of road walking, we encountered a very excitable spaniel named Lola through a gate. Her owner said she would put her on a lead before we came through, and we paused to let them get a little ahead, as Lola very clearly and enthusiastically wanted to say hello, and to jump up to do so. We then descended into another patch of trees, where Beth announced that she was starting to get tired, with fantasies of teatime on the sofa with a biscuit watching Monarch of the Glen. Fortunately for her, we were not far from the end. Unfortunately for her, a particularly slippery stone awaited her at the edge of a stream. When her boot came into contact with said rock, it slipped, possibly as much as four inches, and she had to regain her balance. This understandably gave her the fright of her life and required a pause to allow her heart rate to settle. Soon after, I apologised for my lack of taking the situation seriously.
After recovering from this near-death experience, we made our way up a wide driveway, beautifully carpeted with a covering of orange leaves. We followed the familiar lane to where it met the final footpath of the day, through some trees, across another field and back over the railway. We then climbed the day’s final rise back up to the main road, and then walked down to the station and the awaiting car.
Again, this route is always hillier, and therefore more challenging, than I remember – perhaps after this one though, we won’t forget again, although only time will tell. It is also a lovely route, through some classic High Weald countryside, and perhaps one to which we don’t give enough credit. In the last couple of years, we have walked it in both Winter and Autumn. Maybe it has earned a chance to show itself in the glory of Spring and Summer too.
Matthew G. Huggins 