April has arrived, and to kick off mid-spring, we returned to another of our favourites. We parked up and set off from Rolvenden at just gone eleven o’clock into a pleasant but changeable day. When the sun was shining, the air was hot, but a wind blustered for most of the day, pushing through large clumps of cloud which brought with them cooler spells. But for the most part, the day was warm and bright!
The first few crop fields stretched away and gradually downward – including a patch of odd, unnatural coloured grasses which looked quite alien – before soon levelling out alongside a tinkling stream. The banks were lined with blooming wild garlic flowers, the scent wafting up through the air. Above, the trees were heavy with white blossom, and the sounds of bird song echoed all around. As we continued, we also passed patches of bluebells lining the fields. Seeing these, Beth decided to take a photo. She carefully approached and began to crouch down. I turned away and began to wander along the path. However, moments later, I heard an “ouch”. I turned to see a disgruntled wife. I was soon able to deduce that, unfortunately, a nettle stung Beth on her bottom.
However, the perfect distraction awaited just a little further on. Whilst this walk is great for a number of reasons, it is outstanding for one in particular – lambs! The following stretch just outside Tenterden has always proved to be a reliable lamb sighting spot, and sure enough, as we crossed over from crops to pasture, there they were. A wide-open field stretched ahead, with a large number of ewes with their young enjoying their day. Fortunately for us, there were also a handful of lambs and mothers who had placed themselves close to the fenceline where our route led. These lambs were extremely cute, looking as though they had not been born long ago, and included one standout chap whose lanky legs were stretched out as he napped carelessly in the sunshine. His midday snooze must have made him a bit dopey, because when he woke up, stretched and looked around, it took him longer than it should have to work out which sheep was his mother.
We crossed the road and walked up through the fields past the steam rail line, soon arriving in the farmyard itself. Within, behind a large meal gate, we came across a herd of cows, some fairly small, some very large and ready to burst, bustling about at some hay racks in front of their barn. Naturally, we went up to say hello. One of the smaller, black cows turned to look and slowly approached. Some of the others watched as he stepped closer, until eventually he cautiously gave my outstretched hand a sniff. Behind him, a few of his fellows had also begun to creep forward. However, from the back, suddenly and confidently strode forward the largest, most pregnant-looking cow of the bunch. She pushed her way to the gate and gave us a good look and a sniff. She also accepted some head scratches and seemed very well-versed in the proceedings. This seemed to only encourage the others, and suddenly half a dozen more cows were standing around the gate. At this point, Beth decided that she was ready to leave the yard, for fear of the farmer’s fury, after we had, in her words, caused a commootion.
Tenterden was now just ahead. However, before reaching the town itself, we found ourselves walking alongside a wide, lamb-filled valley to our left. Naturally, this again provided us with an extensive distraction from the walk at hand. We saw countless lambs springing about together. One climbed on the back of his mother, who then stood up, and he tumbled forward over her head. Right at the bottom of the valley, a gang of them played about in small sandy ditches and charged along together in total gay abandon. I don’t know how long we stood there, but we could easily have spent even longer.
Eventually, we did make it into the town, where we found a bench beneath a couple of trees with a few bluebells growing about their roots to ear our lunch. After this, we headed over the road to our usual pub stop and sat out in the garden with our cider. By the time we had finished our first drinks, a large cloud had covered the sun, turning the afternoon cool. I went in to get in a second round; I had another cider, and Beth had a pink gin and lemonade. Beth tucked into hers straight away, but I instead kept an eye on the sky. The grey cloud was slowly sliding through, and a promise of blue was appearing behind us. Eventually, after a little patience, rays of light and warmth began to shine down on us again. I then began to sip at my drink – everyone knows that cider tastes better in the sunshine. Because of this, however, it was a longer pub stop than normal; in addition, as we made our way back out of Tenterden and into the countryside, it quickly became clear that Beth was a little tiddly.
The sun poured over the rolling weald ahead, glinting off distant fields of yellow rapeseed. Just ahead were a few more dozing lambs, and it was at this point that Beth again almost cried as she declared that she was having a lovely day. We made our way down to the network of small canals, where we passed back over the steam railway. The strange metal windmill that sits in the middle of the waterways was working overtime today, and we stood nearby as the steam train passed behind us. We turned and waved, and someone toward the end of the carriages waved back. This stretch is also an area where we have previously struggled to take the right path. We did double-check the map again at one point, but otherwise managed just fine on this occasion. As we headed up and away from the canals, we found ourselves walking through field after field of bright-yellow rape – this felt somewhat hobbity.
Soon after, we began to draw close to the outskirts of Rolvenden, past quiet cottages and sunny crops. A carpet of bluebells grew amongst the final patch of trees of the day, before we passed a few still-pregnant sheep backing onto Rolvenden church. After walking through the churchyard, we finally found ourselves heading back to the car. Just as we reached it, the church bell began to ring to mark the hour. We counted. One. Two. Three. FOUR! No way was it four o’clock! But yes, it was. This meant that thanks to all the long stops to look at animals and drink, we had taken five hours to do less than eight miles – lol.
If anything, this actually just demonstrated how much of a lovely time we had had. Beth did not want to go home, and we both loved finally spending a few hours in some long-overdue sunshine. True it was at times inconsistent, but it was still far more sun than we had had in a while. It was not quite shorts weather, but I feel that it must be soon. This route once again proved itself to be fantastic, the lambs were adorable, and it is one that I am sure we will regularly do again and again.
Matthew G. Huggins 