Dave and Lexi's Adventures
South Downs Way, England
May, 2005
May 18
We've been awake for two days. Its easy to think of it as a marathon, but we've only just arrived in England. Oddly enough just this morning (yesterday morning is more accurate) we were sprawled on the ground at TPL shooting pictures of spring flowers that might be ragged or gone by the time we return. A tiny propeller plane bobbled us into Logan Airport with nearly 6 hours to kill before the flight to Heathrow. So we jumped on the T to Government Center and wandered throught eh historic district, nicely filled with modern chain stores. At South Market we were willingly hijacked by a woman from what we only later learned was a genuine marketing firm. After answering an endless stream of questions about products we'll never use, we each collected $5 and happily whiled away the remainder of our layover wandering around Boston Common.
After all the domestic travel we've done, getting on a 747 was exciting; however, Virgin Atlantic puts their seats extra close together, and I soon gave up trying to get a wink of sleep. Rush hour on the Underground was a bit bizarre. We were completely exhausted, and commuters kept squeezing in. At Trafalgar Square we found a post office and mailed a package with our Cambridge dinner wear to Julia. Its probably not fair to call it breakfast, but we "snacked" on vegetable pies at some hole in the wall. We walked along the Thames, by Parliament, and toured Westminster Abbey before having pints of Tipley's and Adman's Bitter at the Red Lion. Filled with a combination of tourists and Parliament workers in suits, it seemed very much like The Thrush in Montpelier. Across the Thames we visited the Tate Modern, which had enormous galleries in a converted powerhouse, some intriguing chandeliers, a nicely constructed bright red people collection system, and an impressive bookstore. The walk back across the river to Victoria station was long, but it kept us awake. There we caught a train south to Hassocks. The train was startingly fast, smooth, quiet, and clean. And small, definitely not designed for obese Americans.
A couple of narrow blocks later we were at Richard Hare's (Lord Tea of PCT '04) flat. The tea and futon were well appreciated. After a home cooked dinner, we finally called it a very long day and zonked out.
May 19
We slept well, but 8AM sure felt like 3AM in Vermont. Lexi slept soundly as our trains sped from Hassocks to Brighton and Brighton to Eastbourne. There we found our next meal and future snacks at a bakery and grocery store. Our walk through town was rather disorienting, thanks to a distinct lack of street signs, but we managed to find the Terminus, our first pub of the day, where we fortified ourselves with Harvey's Dark Mild and Light Mild. Then we were off on another series of wrong turns through town before reaching what felt like the "real" start of the trail. (The South Downs Way officially starts at the rail station in the middle of town).
A light inconsistent drizzle had been falling all day, but we were unfaxed and began the climb to Well Combe. The trail was like a mowed golf course, smooth, wide, and even. Scant trees blocked the view ahead. Climbing higher along hte chalky white escarpment towards Beachy Head the wind gusted strongly, occasionally bringing us to a standstill. Ravens played in the strong updraft. For miles we followed the open cliff edge, daring not to go too near, as it was much like a cornice. Low clouds often obscured the view, but we spotted the light house on the rocky beach far below, bellowing its fog horn. Thoroughly soaked and chilled, we descended to Birling Gap and headed to the pub for a pint of hand pulled Old Speckled Hen (old ale ~4.5%) and afternoon tea. Two other groups of walkers dripped in during our time there. At 3:15 we figured it was time to go and headed back out into the wet.
Fortunately the breeze was less strong and the drizzle limited, so we gradually began to dry out. Climbing and descending the smooth grass of the so called Seven Sisters, we encountered several flocks of sheep. Late in the afternoon we passed through the hamlet of Litlington. Its delightfully overgrown cottages were strongly reminiscent of The Shire. Just in time for our next snack we arrived in Alfriston. We wandered its incredibly narrow streets in search of ale, and marched our sore feet up a long dirt road to set up at a campground while it wasn't raining. Then it was back to the Smugglers Inn (c. 1358) for a comfortable inglenook seat inside the fireplace to dry out with pints Strongbow Cider and Murphy's Stout. We planned to find a regular table for dinner, but the place filled up, and so the innkeeper served us at nice hobbit sized tables right next to the fire. The locals were surprisingly tolerant of two explosive and soggy hikers so when the time came, we tipped the innkeeper well and strolled back through the drizzle to our happy tent. (Only later did we learn that tipping was decidedly optional in that situation).
May 20
Light rain fell all night long. Fortunately it let up just as we began to motivate to depart, and for most of the day, the worst we got was persistent fog. Of course, we did have some driving rain and burning sun mixed in to keep us on our toes. Crossing miles of high pastures, we met countless sheep apparently quite comfortable with their sweaters. After crossing the River Ouse on a road bridge, we passed through Southease, a cluster of old houses and an even older church. Given that it was nearly luncheon, instead of climbing back up the Downs immediately, we took a short detour to the village of Rodmell and The Abergavenny Arms Free House for pints of Stowford Press Cider and Fat Fiddling Fraudster (a 4.6% bitter from Triple fff Brewing), and a bowl of chips (fries for us Yanks). The break was nice, but after a pint of cider, its a bit hard to get motivated to climb up a hill, even if its a little hill. Henceforth, we usually considered the half pint.
Back on the Down, the sun broke through. Having assumed that it wouldn't be necessary, we left the sunscreen at home. However, without the shade of even a single tree (these hills have been deforested for sheep pasture for over 1500 years) we fried. Midafternoon, near Broad Shackles, we met Richard, who had ridden from home on his mountain bike. He made a humorous effort to herd an errant cow that otherwise we would have hooshed over a mile in the wrong direction. In the next clump of trees we found comfortable seats and Richard brewed up a pot of tea.
The last few miles on the crest of the open Down varied dramatically between clear sun, strong gusty breezes, and threatening clouds. Not having hiked this kind of distance since last year, our feet were getting pretty sore, but we persisted and soon found the large signpost and public footpath leading to Hassocks. Perhaps a mile and a half downhill we walked into town and found Richard's flat where we hung up the tent to dry and showered. A couple of blocks away we bought provisions for the remainder of the walk and ate dinner at Richard's local joint. Gale's and Harvey's Best Bitters polished off a good day.
May 21
It seemed to rain all night and wasn't looking promising in the morning, but leave we did, and tromp back up the Down. We were quite happy when the weather mostly cleared up. It was often quite windy, but it was nice to have clear views of the hills ahead. We met several groups of schoolkids with large packs led by adults with miniature day packs. After asking the leaders we learned that the adults were having their gear shuttled to the evening's campsite. I'm not sure how the kids put up with that! Lots of mountain bikers, lots of single walkers. This trail gets considerable use by locals.
Around midday the weather took a threatening turn for the worse and we detoured into the town of Washington for a pint. At the Frankland Arms we sampled Flowers Old Ale and John Smith's Ale while watching a few minutes of Manchester United v. Arsenal in the FA Cup. The pub was packed with rooting locals. I didn't want to be heard rooting for the wrong team, so drank my beer. Oddly enough there was quite a gang of little kids either running around or intently watching the game with their parents. Returning to the Way by one of many alternate public footpaths, we passed yet another crusty ancient stone church.
Just before dinnertime we arrived at one of a very small number of "camping barns" on the trail. It was really just a large shelter with a partial raised sleeping platform. It was an obvious place to stop for the night, but so rickety and noisy that we marched on in search of dinner. A short while later we crossed the River Arun and took a five minutes detour into the village of Houghton, where the George and Dragon Free House presented itself. A sign above the door proclaimed that "Charles 11 on his ride to the coast after the Battle of Worcester, stopped to take ale at this inn. Tuesday, October 14, 1651". Even then the establishment was ancient, having opened its doors in the 13th century. Lexi had yet another pint of Strongbow Cider, and I enjoyed Fuller's London Pride with my mysteriously good vegetarian Thai schnitzel. In the day's last light we caught sight of a huge white owl, and climbed into Coombe Wood to a well used stealth camping site.
May 22
After a good night's sleep we woke to reasonably clear skies and walked on. Over Bignor Hill we walked on a well cobbled Roman road. Over the course of the day, the terrain began to get mellower and more wooded. Instead of climbing from one pastured hill to the next, we strolled on wide trails through the forest. The open hills had not one bit of shade from the sun, so we were quite happy to be protected. Outside of Cocking there was a public spigot at the Hill Barn, so we stopped to cook a midday hot meal.
We moved quickly over the easy terrain all day and took a nice trailside break at a tall tree swing. The one downside of this section was the relative lack of pubs, so late in the day we eagerly descended to Buriton for a drink. After leaving the woods, we crossed the fields of one small dairy farm, passed the church with its World War I and II memorials, and strolled down a narrow street past an incredibly compact elementary school to the Master Robert Inn. Initially it seemed only open to locals, but the staff took pity on us, made us put ridiculous looking plastic bags over our muddy shoes, and let us in. They had a hard time believing that we didn't need dinner, so we got an enormous plate of chips for 1 £ and drank Symonds Scrumpy Jack cider and Ironside Best Bitter (4.2%).
We responded obliquely to inquiries of where we were staying that night. We quickly regained the Way and moseyed perhaps another mile to a large flat knoll in Queen Elizabeth Country Park. It was a very comfortable evening.
May 23
In the morning we rolled downhill to the park visitor center (restrooms!). All morning we strolled through farms, down narrow rural road, and along old hedgerows. Around midday we reached the prominent Old Winchester Hill, the site of an Iron Age Fort. A few small lumps and ditches in the hill indicated the locations of old gates, berms, and burial barrows.
Yet another farm or two later we crossed the River Meon and walked into the village of Exton to find the Shoe Inn. It was fabulous to sit on the patio, take our shoes off and enjoy half pints of Wadsworth's 6X, Wadsworth's Henry's IPA, and Wadsworth's Summersault. Eventually we mustered the motivation to hike on, but after only 3 more miles walked directly past The Milbury's Free House. Of course we walked in, and found ourselves to be the only customers in town. It was tough to decide between the various cask conditioned ale choices; I finally settled on Hopback Summer Lightening and Theakston's Old Peculiar, both fabulous classics. Lexi had a mouthwatering good time with her cream tea: rich scones with clotted cream (the most divine dairy product in existence) and tea. In a back room of the pub was a 300 foot deep hand dug well with a huge donkey sized hampster wheel installed for raising the bucket of water (the barmaid said it takes 15 minutes for a donkey to winch up a full bucket). We dropped ice cubes down the shaft and were stunned at how long it took to hear the plop.
Walking the final leg to Winchester, we were tired. We had to hustle across one field as a small herd of spastic young cows chased us, getting close enough to slobber on our packs. Thick overcast skies looked threatening, so we motored the last few miles of familar fields to the residential streets on the outskirts of Winchester. The youth hostel appeared right on time, and without undue fanfare in the middle of the street, we were done with all 106 miles of the South Downs Way.
The hostel snugly (pretty darn tightly, that is) fit into Winchester's original millhouse. The undershot waterwheel had been carefully restored, and it would have been lovely to sit in the backyard gardens had it not been raining. We found yet more ales at the Old Gaol House. I can't remember what new beers we tried since the fish and chips and local lamb burger knocked my socks off. The scene was a bit too noisy and hip for a couple of hikers, so we wandered home, trying some Greene King IPA along the way.
It was our biggest day of the hike: 23 miles and 4 pubs. Its a challenging combination.
May 24
For breakfast we sampled the offerings of three local bakeries. Those of the French patisserie across the street were distinctly superior. Suddenly transformed into regular tourists, we visited Winchester Cathedral, the town historical museum, and like any good hiker, the internet computers at the public library. In the afternoon we took the train to Victoria station in London, and the Tube to Euston station. Just outside the station we found Head of Steam, a second floor pub with a railroading theme. The Flying Scotsman Caledonian Ruby Ale was good and the Weston's cask conditioned Vintage Cider Extra Strong (7.3%, aged in old oak vats) was stupendous. From there we walked to the Princess Louise, an opulent Victorian pub serving Samuel Smith's Cider Reserve (5.2%) and Stout, and featuring a friendly Scotsman who talked non-stop.
The train from King's Cross north to Cambridge at rush hour was packed. We sat on the floor with our packs doing crossword puzzles as the train flew across the countryside. Another walk brought us to the porter's lodge at the entrance of King's College, where we acquired a key and settled down in our guest room.
May 25
Tourist in Cambridge Day 1: Within a day we had migrated from a world of hobbits headed to the village of Bree and arrived at Hogwarts. We made extra sure not to step on the grass. The grass police were definitely lurking. After a late marketplace pastry breakfast, we visited the Old Round Church, hoping for an architectural history lesson, and instead getting a long propagandistic movie on the defense of Christianity from secularism. Thoroughly worn out, we were very happy to walk a couple of blocks north to Jesus Green and the 32nd Cambridge Beer Festival. A large white tent was packed with happy volunteers pouring pints and half pints of over 140 real ales right from the cask. In a moment of weakness we gravitated directly to the cider section, where we tried a few of the 30 or so local ciders. The situation was delightfully overwhelming. After the Harvey's Russian Imperial Stout it was definitely time for a stroll, and we walked back to King's to meet Julia for lunch. I suppose that in the afternoon we touristed around town, but I can't remember, perhaps the Imperial Stout was still in effect.
May 26
Tourist in Cambridge Day 2: Right after a small breakfast we walked south along the River Cam towards Grantchester. Road noise and residential neighborhoods tapered off and we quickly strolled through small pastures next to the meandering river. Just as we were feeling a tad peckish we arrived at The Orchard, a rural tea house with a long literary history, cream tea for sale, and extremely comfortable lounge chairs. Back in Cambridge we visited the Fitzwilliam Museum, a formerly private collection now open to the public. The overly opulent stone interior was a bit much, and the collection of mostly 17th to 19th century European works not entirely our taste. We were surprised to find in a quiet nook a temporary show of prints by Leo Haas, an illustrator who did a series of drawings while imprisoned in a concentration camp. After the war he returned to retrieve his stashed work and have it published. The images were graphic and stark.
After lunch with Julia at Kings, we returned to the Beer Festival for more tasting. In all we sampled about 30 real ales and got quite a good feeling for what a Best Bitter is all about. The Belhaven Fruit Beer was wonderful. On the recommendation of several of the volunteers, we walked about twenty minutes east to find Bacchanalia, an extremely nice beer store, where we picked up a collection of goodies to take home. After a day of walking perhaps twelve miles, we took a break in the shade on a public green before dinner.
May 27
Today we returned to Vermont. Train to Kings Cross. Train to Gatwick. Flight to Newark. 5 hours of taxiing around Newark seeing the sights before taking off for Burlington. And finally our short drive home.
More information about the South Downs Way
National Trails - South Downs Way
Harvey Map Company - South Downs Way
our first pub in London
tighly packed flats in Hassocks
the rail station in Brighton
cask conditioned elevensies at the Terminus in Eastbourne
start of the South Downs Way, Eastbourne
lighthouse off Beachy Head
afternoon tea at the Thatched Bar, Birling Gap
Lexi finds a hobbit house in Litlington
clambering over yet another stile/gate
drying out at the Smugglers Inn, Alfriston
church graveyard in Southease
The Abergavenny Arms in Rodmell
with Lord Tea
church in Washington
enjoying Fuller's London Pride at the George and Dragon, Houghton
the George and Dragon
pausing for cooked luncheon
atop Beacon Hill
passing between the hilltop barrows of Iron Age Old Winchester Hill
enjoying cream tea at Milbury's
the 300' deep hand dug well and bucket raising wheel at Milbury's
the dreaded attack cows
hostel in Winchester
interior of Winchester Cathedral
the Princess Louise pub in London
the Cambridge Beer Festival tent
The Orchard
arcade at St. John's College
