South Downs Way - Petersfield to Cocking (the public transport method)

4th June 2010

Waiting for the bus to Bishops Waltham. I'm not just punctual, I'm early. About 30 minutes to go before the bus arrives …

From my portable journal:

"Let's see. The walk is the easy bit. I have to make bus and train connections. I've checked and re-checked everything. It's now up to whatever comes along to complicate matters. I can get money for cabs if I absolutely have to. You can't plan for absolutely everything, but I can have a damn good try. And here's hoping there are no cows along the Hangers Way, otherwise it'll be road walking or back to Petersfield for another bus! You simply never know!"

The bus to BW arrived on time (Brijan 7 09:23 £3.90). I got talking to an elderly couple who were on a morning's busabout: Bitterne - Bishops Waltham - Petersfield - Winchester - Eastleigh, and back to Bitterne. Changed buses at BW in good time for Petersfield (Brijan 17 10:10 £1.75 - yes, that is correct. Possibly reduced fares through the South Downs National Park?)

Arrived at Petersfield pretty much on time. A few minutes in the Information Centre asking for directions to the start of the southern part of the Hangers Way. No problems. Very well sign-posted.

First through a field full of some scrubby stuff. I guess it's kept like that to encourage wildlife. The path was well-kept however and pleasant to walk along. Came soon to a gate. The gate goes into a mobile home park. Through the park and nip through a narrow gap to a stile into a sheep field (no sheep. Or maybe invisible stealth sheep remembering those non-cows in the Lake District). Notice on the fence - "Dogs found among sheep will be shot". Now, where's the exit? Half way along the far side of the field through a gap in the hedge and over a stile into a cropfield. Came upon man drinking water and looking at map. "Hello". Walk on.

Through a gap in the hedge at the bottom of the field on to a greenway between high hedges and down to a simple plank bridge over some mud into another field, also left to go wild. Nice view however past a lone tree over cropfields towards Butser Hill.

At the end of the field over a stile, across a strip of narrow rough ground, and over another stile on to another simple bridge over some mud into a suspicious-looking field. There is evidence of ancient cow activity here but nothing recent. The chalky path is perfectly visible; however, there was a line of tamped down grass going uphill. Not quite sure which was the correct path to take, I went up the hill to no exit, so came back down again to the clear path. This of course follows the trail (!) The path passes between a windbreak and a copse of trees, although another narrow path runs alongside the fence and stream at the bottom of the field.

All these fields are V-shaped. They have steep sides and narrow bottoms with a small stream running through.

Through the exit at the far end of this large field, either a gate or a stile, I can't remember, and into another small field with a sewage works on the far side of the dip. Soon houses began to appear on the far slope - very nice homes, too. One of them was having a roof replaced. In that moment of envy I thought "I hope it rains". I didn't mean it really.

Eventually the path comes to a gate on to a grassy footpath and the waymarkers lead you round to the right and through a drive, past a stone house called the Hop Loft, I think. The drive comes out on to a lane. Turn left down to the main road through the village of Buriton. On the other side of the road rises the church and in front of that is the duck pond. Ducks milling everywhere, on the water and on the paths.

I checked out the footpath that goes through the fields past the church but as before when I thought to use that way, coming from the other direction on a previous visit, there were cows. Deciding against that footpath, my first option had been to follow the road round past Buriton House and then turn along the Milky Way. In the end, I chose instead to continue along the Hangers Way up South Lane (past the row of cottages called Toad Row). The lane becomes a bridleway and passes under the railway, beginning to rise steeply through the trees. Buriton Chalk Pit Nature Reserve is to be found on the way up with several gates leading into the enclosure. My way lay ahead and ever upwards. Thank goodness I brought my poles!

The Hangers Way emerges at a crossroads and continues through a gate into Queen Elizabeth Country Park. When I reached the crossroads, I turned left up the lane, which is waymarked for the South Downs and for Staunton Way. There were two female cyclists ahead of me. They soon coursed ahead although I caught up with them a couple of times. They were cycling uphill, never mind walking!

I was now following part of a previous walk I had done here. Up the lane and soon on to a dusty track which leads past a cottage and goes up and down between green fields of either crops or grass. I found all the green is very restful.

I was starting to get into my rhythm now. On the up slopes using shorter strides and slowing as the demands of the gradient dictated, lengthening stride as the path levels out and increasing pace on the down slopes.

Past Coulters Dean Farm, which I had passed on the previous walk, with its lovely rolling cropfield, the young crops that deep turquoisey green that will later turn to gold. The house sits among trees at the bottom of the valley, and has a large trampoline in the garden.

Plod up the slope to the metalled lane. A gate right goes into Coulters Dean Wood, which is waymarked "Staunton Way" which I can only assume means that it joins Staunton Way further down, or because you can get to Staunton Country Park along that route. It isn't marked as such on the OS map.
Bear round to the left and past this end of the Milky Way (presumably "Milky" as in the colour of the chalk and also for the consistency of the path after heavy rain; this byway descends quite sharply in places). This bit of lane walking is about 1km. It is very quiet, more an access road to the farm and Ditcham Park School further on. Part of the way runs alongside a steep hanger on the left. Past the entrance to the school the view widens out across farmland and the Downs come into view ahead.

The road runs down to Sunwood Farm and its outlying cottages. The SDW follows the road round to the left and then turns right up a broad chalk path alongside more cropfields with a windbreak of trees on the right. Perfect for shade from the hot sun. This is Hundred Acres Lane. The banks on either side are full of chalkland flowers, pink and white and yellow; a couple of the yellow flowers I inspected a bit more closely and they were orchids, delicate lady's slippers. Those were all the orchids I saw all day. An elderly lady I was to meet in Cocking told me that the flowers didn't seem to know what to do this year, given the strange weather patterns and sharp changes of temperature this Spring. It doesn't appear to have bothered the cow-parsley. Why is it called cow-parsley and not cat-parsley? It smells like cats.

Hundred Acres Lane eventually comes to a tarmac lane running crosswise while the SDW continues ahead on Forty Acre Lane, past two handsome but bored-looking horses in a field across from a cottage. The two female cyclists I'd seen before were in conference when I passed them here. I didn't see them again.

I have walked Forty Acre Lane in the other direction. It's a pleasant path again with a windbreak of shady trees. It seemed shorter than I remembered it, possibly because I was going downhill this time. The path goes past a footpath left which is signposted for South Harting village and all its amenities. The main SDW continues on and comes to the B2146.

Across the road the path winds around Tower Hill. The Tower on the top of the hill is the remains of a Victorian Folly and from a distance looks spectacular. I had previously scrambled up the near-vertical sheep field to be disappointed by the rather prosaic red brick of the thing. It must have been a huge structure judging by the size of the remains.

The path around the Hill seemed longer, where Forty Acre had seemed shorter, and I think it was probably because I was going all uphill. The slope isn't really steep, it just keeps climbing. Left is a steep bank of trees down to the road and the path eventually emerges at the B2141.

Across the road and I've reached my first target point - Harting Down. I’d started from Petersfield at 11.10 am and it was now about 1.20pm. The sun had brought out half-term picnickers - the car park is about 20 yards up the slope. Oddly, no one had chosen to sit on the viewpoint bench, so I did. Families littered the grass and one elderly couple had not only brought chairs with them but a table as well!

A perfect spot for lunch. There is a lovely view of deciduous trees of various green shades in the foreground forming a sort of cup-shaped frame for South Harting nestled below, the green spire of the church rising on the left. Behind the village is the mound of Torberry Hill that abounds with legends, and then spread about all this is the quilt of farmland with the shadow of the hangers beyond stretching away from Petersfield north to Alton. Above all, a clear blue, hot sky.

I had lunch: a cheese and tomato sandwich - the cheese was really strong, I only ate half of it - some cornsticks and a chocolate topped flapjack, my staple walking food. Lots of water to drink and then I set off again. Once through the gate all I saw for some time were one family, four cyclists (two of whom were idling in the shade) and a pair of knees.

The views from the Downs out over the countryside with its patchwork colours and warm red clusters of villages and farms all looks so peaceful and restful. The sight of any spread of landscape appeals to me. The land has no straight lines, it curves and rolls, rises and drops away constantly. The unmoving ground is in constant motion. This is what tempts me from home and creates the dissatisfaction with the walks around home. There's nowhere to get up high-ish to walk and view the land at the same time. Maybe I ought to learn to paint. It's hard to capture the real experience of the human eye and mind on photographic equipment.

Coming down from Harting Down you have the lovely valley of Bramshott Bottom to the right - later in the year it's a riot of long grasses and yellow and white wildflowers. The official SDW wanders "inland" from here along an accessible bridleway going around Beacon Hill. But why go around when you can go the short way. The viewpoint is straight ahead - I mean, straight Up. Practically vertical. For those with hydraulic legs and iron stamina I'm sure it's a breeze and I'm a wuss. For me, it's shorten the poles, legs of lead and a cardio workout to beat any amount of circuit training in a gym - and much, much more fun!

I made the gate, caught my breath and took some video footage of the view from here. A little further up but before the trig the view really opens out. The viewpoint marked on the OS map shows a 360 viewpoint but from the trig itself there's a copse of trees blocking the northward view. The better view is a little way west of this.

My legs recovered really quickly. I was soon ready to continue. The eastern slope of Beacon Hill is also very steep although I think it's not quite so long. I found my poles useful here for steadying descent. And then up again, a wide chalk path that descends the other side down a gentle slope curving alongside farmland once more. Ahead of me is another glorious view over the outlying landscape; in the foreground a line of trees and dotted along the path are occasional elder trees.

The Down ahead is Treyford Hill. The path curves down into trees at the bottom. Apparently, I have just rounded the top of Mount Sinai …

The path emerges from the trees and begins to bend inland. In the large cropfield to the right, a farmer spraying fertiliser or insecticide from … some large piece of machinery.

And into trees again. This is pleasant walking. The great views and the thrill of being able to see you're up high are intense but the cool green wandering woodland path through shifting sunlight and shade is lovely. I do enjoy woodland walking.

And out again coming down towards Buriton Farm. It looks like this is being re-built because all the buildings look fairly new in pink-grey brickwork and there's chalky rubble all over the place. What they do have is a large solar panel in a perfect position out in the open where it will catch every ray of sunshine between dawn and dusk. As I was coming along the path towards the Farm I saw a large brown bird swoop through the air. It was some distance away but definitely chasing some other smaller bird. I'm not good at ornithology, but I wonder if I saw my first sparrowhawk!

Past the Farm, the path comes to a T-junction and a fingerpost in various directions. The SDW goes left and about fifty or so yards along is signed to the right, starting Up again and into more trees. I met another older man here who was clearly enjoying his walk. Friendly walkers' "Hellos" and on our way.

Poles out. The path climbs quite steeply and for some distance so it's quite wearing on inexperienced legs. Again through trees. It was very pleasant in the cool amid the dancing sunlight.

After the path had levelled out for a few yards, I came across a small memorial of grey stone dedicated to "Hauptmann Joseph Oestermann". I found some information on him. He was the pilot of a Junkers Ju88 bomber on the first day of the Battle of Britain (also known as Adlertag, or Eagle Day) on 13th August 1940. His plane was shot down during a raid on Aldershot and he remained at the controls while the other crew members bailed out. He was only twenty-five. There are some poppies around the base of the memorial. And I wonder now if his ashes are buried there. What a lovely peaceful place to rest.

And then later where the path bends sharply left, I came upon a young roe stag. We both started and it took off. It might have heard me coming and with that strange curiosity they have, waited, poised for flight, until I actually came round the corner before it took off. They are funny creatures! It shot into the trees and I never afterwards saw or heard it.

Next I saw a lookout platform, like the ones they have in the New Forest for watching deer, which I assumed this one for as I'd just seen a deer. However, it looks out over a clearing in which are three grassy barrows. They're not very high and I was curious. There was a gate. There was also a board which was turned away from the path. I had to see what was on it. It was an information panel about the barrows, called the Devil's Jumps, and are said to date from the Bronze Age, about 3000 years. There were some bones in two of the barrows, found in 1853, but nothing in the other "two" (I only saw three). The barrows seem to be aligned upon setting sun of Midsummer's Day.

Next to this very interesting place is another cropfield and a private estate on the right, Monkton House. There is nothing really of the estate to see due to the heavy screen of trees but I heard the clear, complaining cry of peacocks.

Soon ahead now was the end of the woodland walk, emerging between fenced sheep pasture. I stopped by a gate because my right big toe was a little uncomfortable. It wasn't burning with impending blister, but to be on the safe side I applied a Compeed plaster to it. If I wasn't going to get a blister without it, I'd just made sure I did get one. By the time I got home, I had a small and painful blister right in the crease between my big toe and the ball of my foot where the Compeed had rubbed! I think I'll stick to Scholl or Sainsbury's in future. The blister is now bound up with cotton wool and surgical tape which works very well.

Plastered (!) I left the shade and emerged into the heat and glare again. The path goes straight up between the fields, rather rutted from use by cyclists but not unpleasant to walk because of it. There is a forest of trees off to the right beyond the fields, and to the left the Downs must fall away quite abruptly because there's the edge and then there are those views out over the countryside again. Beautiful!

The sheep pastures spread across Didling Hill. There is a bridleway which intersects the SDW about half-way up. About here I was startled by a shout from behind and I turned to see the black-clad cyclists I'd seen last on Harting Down powering up the slope towards me. I skipped to the right to let them pass with a smile and "Thanks!" People who use the countryside can be such lovely people, friendly and polite. These guys were soon lost to view over the top of Linch Ball, while I paced on my own merry way. And then there was a sight to gladden my heart! Separated from me by a good sturdy fence, a field of cows, all leg-deep in grass and large-headed daisies.

From Didling Hill I'd been making some surmises, checking and re-checking my position on the map. I'd made better way than I'd expected. I'd guesstimated the time the walk would take, based on my apparent average of 2.5 mph, and come to a figure of 5.6 hours. I started from Petersfield at 11.10 am. As I checked my position and the distance left to go, it was now about 3.30 pm and ahead of schedule. True, I hadn't got myself lost or stopped every other stride to take photographs but I was good for time and looking at getting to Hilltop and the A286 somewhere between 4 and 4.30pm.

Past Linch Ball the path goes straight ahead at crosspaths. On the left where the bridleway goes down to a gate there is an open grass lawn with several tree trunks scattered about as seats for weary travellers to rest upon and take in the lovely views out towards Midhurst. The trees have been dried and bleached by long days of exposure. I did rest my tired legs for a while in the afternoon sun, the heat offset by the southerly breeze.

And then to the last part of the walk, which comes down again between open cropfields. Ahead can be seen Manorfarm Down and the great scar of the chalk pit on the other side of the A286. My destination.

Or it was.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you don't stick to your plan (your whole plan, mind!) the curse of the change of plan will bite you on the bum. Sometimes literally!

Instead of continuing on down past Hilltop to the road and bus stop, I decided I'd walk into Cocking itself as I was in hand with time (oh, foolish woman!). There's bridleway way-marked down across a rough field of grass and clover (silage?). Another fingerpost half-way down the field (it's a big field) keeps you on track and the path turns away right to follow the line of the hedge.

A cautionary tale: when walking on a narrow path of uncertain footing, it is unwise to attempt to map-read at the same time. My footing did become uncertain - stumble, stagger, fall … right on my backside. The bruise is grey and purple!

The path goes into trees past Crypt Farm and at the end a signpost points the restricted byway. Like many byways, this one runs between high hedges with no view, which becomes a bit dull after a while. Eventually, however, the path emerges on to Bell Lane in Cocking where there are some lovely, enviable houses set in threes or fours in their own little courts or drives above the road. Here I met the elderly lady who knew about the chalkland flowers suffering from the mad Spring weather this year. She was carrying a flowered bag and, of all things, a car battery. She was somewhat taken aback that I had walked from Petersfield. She recommended the Moonlight Tea Rooms (end of the lane turn right and it's on your left) as I was by now in need of a cup of tea! The pub (The Bluebell) stands at the end of Bell Lane but doesn't open until 6pm.

Across the road (busy in the rush hour), past the car sales and the bus stop and there is the Moonlight Tea Rooms and Bed & Breakfast. It's a quaint cottage set in a pretty flower garden laid out with round wooden tables and seats on the lawn amid the flower-beds. While sat waiting for my pot of tea some chap in a garden across the gravel drive behind a hedge was obviously having a hard time: "Christ! … Christ! Christ! Christ!" I didn't find out what Christ had done. It was probably his cat.

I wrote in my travelling journal:



" The tea is LOOSE-LEAF - none of your common old tea bags here! I need this after my great hike! … I finished the walk much earlier than anticipated so decided to treat myself and get a later bus. I can afford to wait for the 1842 [oh, foolish woman!]

"Tea Rooms - right next to the main road and in the garden of the cottage …

"Mmm, warm toasted tea cakes & strawberry jam with clotted cream and a fresh strawberry … a bus has just gone by 10 minutes late … The tea is not just leaf, it's organic leaf - sort of woody.

"I'm sure my hair must be frightful [I'd taken a hairband to try to make it look half-decent after taking off my hat] and I must visit the loo - yes, they have one here. Outside. Quaint! Then - bus!"



Then, on the train (eventually) I wrote:

"I didn't visit the loo, someone was in it [ though I kept tugging at the door thinking it was stiff when in fact it was locked]. The day which had been perfectly lovely suddenly took a nasty turn. I'd used up all my "lovely" credit. So, the loo was engaged, the bus was late, then still late trying to catch itself up. [Note to self: when dashing away tears of frustration, use a tissue and not a sweaty finger because it will make the suntan cream run in your eye - good thing I had some tissues, then]. And now the train is delayed. [At least you could see its due time and get reassuring (if automated) messages, that it was going to arrive eventually] … And I'm sure I was overcharged for my afternoon tea. Oh, stop moaning. Make sure you check what's included next time!

"I'm looking forward to a shower, a foot soak and a hot meal!

Fortunately, in the end, despite the train being delayed I managed to get the 8.20pm bus home. I’d considered getting the train to Swaythling and walking from there. I would have done had there not been a handy bus.

Once home, I discovered the blister on my toe. I had a hot shower and used the massage spray on my poor feet, then I got a quick meal of salmon and veg with a simple butter and lemon dressing. Washed up and managed to tidy my walking clobber away before bed.

I fell into bed about 11.15pm. Despite the glitches towards the end it was a day to remember, for the sun, the clear sky, the wonderful physical sensations of a walk that really works your body and the beauty of the countryside of the South Downs National Park.

Old Winchester Hill (without possible extension to East Meon)

25th May 2010

Old Winchester Hill from Exton, with possible extension to East Meon on a beautiful afternoon in May. The idea, to get out before the schools kicked out and return home after the rush hour. Being as the day was warm and the walk a fair distance, I thought to take my camelback. I didn't store it properly, did I. Parts of it had turned green. I took bottles. I will get another camelback but only when I've learned how to look after it properly! I've read somewhere you should clean and sterilise it, then fill it with water and keep it in the freezer, ready for when you next want to use it.

So, armed with food and hat, phone and camera, sunblocked and repelling all insect-boarders, I set off. Nice drive to Exton, accompanied by Muse. I parked in the shade along the little lane just past the village where the South Downs Way runs through. Two horse riders came up the lane as I was getting organised and that tiny lingering memory of wistful thinking was stirred in me again. I've done my horse-riding and given up all the bolting and being thrown off, but the childhood wish is still there. "Lovely way to spend the day" I said. "Yes, it certainly is" replied the leading rider with a smile.

I followed them across the road to the path and over the bridge, while they rode through the ford. They politely asked if I wanted to go first but they would be naturally quicker than me so I declined. Not thinking, I managed to follow them right past where I should have turned left so I had to retrace my steps and at the fingerpost (!) turn along Garden Lane, an ancient holloway, which goes over the disused Meon Railway (now a foot- and cycle-path) and turns sharp left by a gate in to a sheep field (this turn being missed on the OS map), emerging finally at a T-junction where the Monarch's Way comes in from the left to join the SDW briefly eastwards.

Turning right along the conjoined paths, the way goes up almost to a gate and then dodges left to follow the edge of a cropfield, round to the left at the top alongside the sheepfield and then left at the fingerpost at the top. I would later re-tread this last little bit.

The climb up through the trees and through the gate up to the fort is steep and good for your cardio-vascular system and your legs. The rewards of this Up are great indeed when you get to the ramparts/earthworks of the Fort and look everywhere. The view extends beyond Portsdown Hill, over towards the Isle of Wight, Fawley Chimney, Fawley Refinery, the New Forest with the Dorset hills rising hazily in the distance , round to Beacon Hill, and north to the hills beyond Cheesefoot Head and Winchester. The Down includes Old Winchester Hill takes over and blocks the northward view towards East Meon and Butser Hill. And below, running north to south is the lovely Meon Valley drowsing in the sunlight accompanied by the complaining bleat of sheep.

This is the view I chose to have while I sat and ate a late lunch and after about 15 minutes basking in the sunshine I went on my way.

There is a narrow chalk path that runs along the side of the inner slope of the Down (I found myself battling vertigo again, I thought that had gone!). I chose the Circular Path that goes up through a gate and into the trees above and comes out at the main path from the car parks back to the Fort. I turned left to follow the bridle path through the shade and out across the road.

My plan to extend the walk down to East Meon was scuppered. The SDW goes clear through a large field. There was a problem.

Cows. Lots of cows, black and white Friesians, standing 5 ft at the shoulder and a great Hereford bull in with them. Actually, the bull went and laid down in the grass, but I wasn't to be lulled. This was a combination guaranteed to put me off.

As time was beginning to get on I thought it best to put off this little bit of SDW I hadn't yet walked for now and continue on the back-up route.
I went off down Old Winchester Hill Lane in the direction of Warnford. The view was lovely, the sun warm and beginning to get that golden glow as the afternoon wore on. I decided to try my hand at documentary. The result is a not bad narration but the video footage on my little camera is very shaky, and watching it back made me feel slightly nauseous.

It was a pleasant walk down the road and there was a dear little black-faced lamb in a field looking at me, so I took its photo.

My destination was the Monarch's Way which goes through farmland. I had no idea what this might entail, but from the OS map the waymarkings are line-bordered which means the path is enclosed. Being able to see the land from above, this must mean fencing. The path goes through a metal gate on to a beaten earth and tarmac chipping drive.

This path is a treasure! It goes past fields with views towards Beacon Hill on the right and Old Winchester Hill ahead, and comes over a rise to a view of the valley where the farm and a scattering of cottages nestle. There are some lovely horses on the farm, of varying sizes and colours, white, grey and chestnut. The farm has an eventing course and a show-jumping/dressage arena. I'm pretty sure they have equestrian competitions here.

The path goes round past Peake Cottage, where a man in a barn called out a cheerful "Hello!" It then turns right along a nice, well-kept grass track between fences to the actual farm, which is very nice. The path turns then alongside a barn following the edge of a cropfield and comes out on a wide path. To the left the drive is marked "Private". The Monarch's Way continues round to the right, past fields of safely stored cows to join the SDW at the end of Garden Lane.

I followed the conjoined paths once more up along the cropfield and past the sheepfield to the fingerpost, as before. At the sign this time I turned right instead of left, following the bridleway of the SDW that comes down to the Old Railway and returns to Exton.




















Isle of Wight 1 - Tennyson Down and the Freshwater Trail

27th October 2009

Beautiful, beautiful day! Sunny. Warm.
£50 just about covred my expenses for the day but that did include the indulgence of a taxi home in the evening.

Redjet from Town Quay in Southampton to Cowes and from Cowes to Newport on the No. 1 bus, which runs every 6 minutes. I got the No. 11 from Newport which terminates in Yarmouth, as I had some idea of walking down to Freshwater Bay along the old railway; then I changed my mind when I saw the Downs from the Bus and decided to get off at Totland instead.

The path I followed is the Coastal Path, joined at Totland up a road and then off at a footpath sign to come up on to Headon Warren - in the 15th Century this was the location of a thriving rabbit-meat and -fur trade.

At the top of the Warren is a Bronze Age tumulus which was raided for its treasures on the orders of Henry III.

Down the other side of Headon Warren and you arrive at Alum Bay, a tourist trap, full of permanent souvenir shops selling items ranging from blown glass ornaments to phials of the famous multi-coloured sands. Guess who managed to to choose half-term week to do this walk! There were people everywhere, a fairground and a cable ride up and down the cliffs. After Alum Bay, however, the walk improved.

I followed the Coastal Path on round towards the Old Battery that overlooks the Needles. I was intending to go up on to West High Down through a gate along here but I baulked at the steep climb up to the Coastguard Cottages with the exposed drop behind. So I turned back along the cliff edge - a footpath alongside a tarmac road that you can also walk along - and went back to where there is a stile by a National Trust sign. The path wanders along the lower slopes of the Downs past open fields and a tea rooms in a cottage about 1/4 mile off the track. Eventually the path comes to a gate and out on to Tennyson Down. The great Down climbs away ahead of you, a great green sward, with some trees on the northern slope. From the gate the Tennyson Monument on top of the Down is barely visible. Look behind as you climb to see West High Down pointing its great crooked green and chalk finger out to sea.

I found the climb really weird. Just this sheep-bitten mound curving against the sky - water to the right, nothing to the left - and I kept checking behind because I had the oddest sensation that the ground behind me was falling away after every step I took. Totally irrational!

Arrived at the monument, I sat on the bench that faces out to sea and had lunch. All very pleasant with a book in one hand, something edible in the other and the warm sun on my face.

Then the tide turned and up came the wind, all blowy and chill. Although my legs were well-protected as always in army surplus combats I had on a T-shirt and cotton hoodie that let the wind through! I did, fortunately, also have my waterproof jacket in my rucksack. Did I put it on at once? No.

I walked the rest of the way down the other side of the Down (although not on the cliff-edge path) and suddenly realised there were cows. I didn't realise they have the run of the place. Still there were plenty of other people for them to chase. I even stopped to photograph them before continuing on through a gateless gap , past more cows and down into Freshwater Bay.

Here is a public convenience, and here I finally put on my extra layer.

Freshwater = water - the sea, fresh - the wind, and what a spectacular silver lining! The waves were tumbling and foaming up from the Channel and crashing with a great rumble and hiss on the shingle beach and booming against the cliffs.

Eventually and reluctantly I turned away from the sea as time was getting on and I still had the walk to Yarmouth. I wanted to go over Compton Down as well but the increasing wind would have made it unpleasant, so I went off north around the golf course on to the Freshwater Trail. and if I had gone over Compton I don't know that I'd have made it to Brighstone before sunset anyway.

The golf course is a windy links, open to the elements. The Freshwater Trail goes along the edge of the course and down past sheep fields. I took a photo of one particular sheep for its impudent staring as if it objected to my being there.

The path here is grassy and well-maintained. Unfortunately, it ends at a busy road with blind corners in both directions. Once you have taken a deep breath and scuttled across the road, ears on the alert for any whining engine noise bearing down on you, the path continues along a quiet country lane which meanders along between a woodland and fields, eventually coming to a bridge where the path goes off to the right alongside the Yar. This is the disused railway.

I tried to get a photo of a man feeding swans and wanted a shot of one with its head stretched up but every time I went to take the shot, the man thoughtlessly dropped another piece of bread. I put my camera away and went off up the path. The way is lined with trees so that views of the river are patchy. I did manage to get some nice shots of the sunset over the river.

There were loads of people along the path, walking or cycling, out to make the most of the late autumn sunshine.

The path splits off towards the Yarmouth end, one way going on into the town, the other taking a more circuitous route. I chose the latter and got this lovely shot of three swans gliding down the river in the gold of the late afternoon.

The path along here runs between fields full of reeds and emerges at a lane. Turning left from here there is a bus stop on either side of the lane and the lane itself comes to the main road into Yarmouth. I checked the timetable for the next bus to Newport (all buses on the Island go to Newport). There was about 1/2 an hour to the next so I decided to walk into the town.

There are quaint little backroads through the quiet part of the town down by the water. The roads come soon to the quayside and tourist information centre at the ferry terminal.
The sun was down by now and autumn twilight sliding over the water and the town. The bus station is just along from the ferry terminal and the bays are quite clearly marked.

The bus ride was through darkness and occasional little hamlets of cottages on a bus being driven by Jensen Button - he thought he was.

Made Newport and straight on to the No. 1 for Cowes. All through the rush hour traffic. My timing is always impecable! I made the 6.15 ferry, having missed the 5.45 by seeing it pulling away from the quay as the bus pulled into the terminal. Oh well. I had a coffee and read some more of my book.

The ride back to Southampton was pleasant through the dark, as long as I didn't look at Fawley bobbing up and down, and at the far end I got a cab home as it was dark and I was tired, and hadn't brought the bus times with me anyway.

The day cost me just under £50 including cab and I had a lovely time and got some beautiful photos of a memorable day.

The Wanderer Returns

After a rather long break I have taken to the keyboard again to sort of pick up where I left off. Here are the walks so far for 2010.

Southampton to Winchester along the Itchen Navigation






8th April 2010

The day was stunning, warm enough that I didn't need a jacket and at times could dispense even with my hoodie. Birds sang in the trees and hedgerows all along the path, and water of course runs alongside it, at least 95% of the way - sometimes on both sides. I think there is nowhere along the path without trees.

The journey started from my front door, through Riverside Park and under the new Mansbridge Bridge (the 300 year old original bridge still spans the river and was in use up until the 1970s). Across Mansbridge Meadow which is managed for encouraging wildlife, and the path proper beings through the hedge in the top right hand corner. A project to restore the brickwork of the old locks of the canal has just been completed.

Between Southampton and Bishopstoke the path is mainly beaten earth and can be very muddy, even flooded in places.

I chose to cross the Itchen Valley Nature Reserve rather than follow the actual path alongside the M27. The airport I don't mind, although there's no view of it from the path when you eventually come back to it up some steps from the long western edge of the Nature Reserve and over a stile. Birds singing everywhere and brimstone and peacock butterflies flitting about, with the occasional fat bee bumbling along.

Alongside the canal and before the flood, I met a volunteer with the Hampshire County Council who was doing a survey of rare nesting birds along the way. There is a project, funded by the Lottery Fund, to restore the canal and put a proper footpath along from Southampton to Winchester. This is already under way in several places. I daresay the Southampton end will be the last bit to be completed. Both the man and myself wondered how they will get the machinery into that part of the canal; I'm sure they have a plan. And regarding the path, how to make it disabled-friendly with room for a barge-horse (oh, yes, there are plans rumoured) and at the same time keep the dirt-bike and scooter hellions off it!
The nice man warned me about the mud and flood further on and with friendly goodbyes we parted.

I next met a couple of people coming the other way who also warned me abou the 20 metre flooded area. They advised going into the adjacent field to get around it. Did I? Did I heck as like! I have an adventurous spirit and thick waterproof boots.

The views over the flat southern Hampshire countryside, even in early April, is very pretty. Fields becoming greener with budding trees dotted around. The aspect is very open.

The path passes under the railway several times. One of the tunnels was lined with what looked like an upside-down nissan hunt. Past this was the lovely, lovely sewage works at Eastleigh. There was a slight fertilizer-y tang in the air briefly but the towers don't smell bad and they're actually not as unsightly as I'd expected, given their industrial nature. I can see the path becoming badly overgrown with nettles later in the season if no one tends them properly.

Past the works, the path goes round and over the river. In places, either by nature or design the water splashes and races white over unseen objects in the water, sometimes trees or other scrub, but not, I think old prams and tyres.

The path begins to widen out and here are signs of the beginnings of the restoration of the canal itself with the sinking and lining of a channel into which water is being fed from the River Itchen on the other side of the walkway. There is an information panel giving more details near the new bridge and inlet.

The path emerges on to a busy road and there is a crossing not far down. Don't use the ATM at the garage close by, it charges. There is an Esso garage further up the road the other way.

Across the road the path continues, excellently laid out past the recreation ground and out into countryside, all along the river bank, meadering with the river's course between Bishopstoke and Otterbourne. There are trees all along the far bank and some fine houses beyond. today, the river was sparkling the sunlight. The only blight on the idyllic scene is a great yellow crane-thing at the railway works and some pylons, but if you keep looking at the river it doesn't matter.

The scene soon changes again beyond another railway bridge. Steep gardens rise from landing stages - although the water is really too narrow for boats; maybe canoes ... The landing stages have been converted into pleasant seating areas, each with its bench or benches. One or two have been made into designer features with plants and ornaments; or with lighting and brightly painted ironwork. All enviable, and the houses look pleasant as well. One garden is "decorated" with old signs: of shops, bus stops, railway signs, etc.

The path meanders through woodland and alongside water and open fields eventually coming to another road to cross at or near Brambridge. Today the path opposite was closed for restoration and a diversion created, which to my mind could have been more clearly sign-posted, however it isn't hard to find the way. Here, I met with another couple who have walked the Itchen Way several times.

Having ascertained the diversion we all three set off along the road, fortunately pavemented on one side or the other. They were very pleasant people, however, me being me, I began to long for my solitary state again. As we came to Brambridge Antiques I chose to turn in here while the others continued on their way.

I learned that the gentleman who owns the Antiques workshop is 66, about to retire and a skilled French polisher; that he has found it hard to find someone who is willing to take on a 7-year apprenticeship. Having recently lost my debit card and having no hard cash on me I was in a good position to regret that I couldn't buy anything. He offered a solution but I managed to slide out of that and to say goodbye and continue my journey.

I don't like pavementless lanes that are also busy thoroughfares with a popular Garden Centre along it. However, I used roadwalking sense and politely acknowledged the drivers forced to go around me. the, soon after a narrow white bridge I was able to go on along the path again. There was a sign to say that the path was flooded 500 m on. Well, there was a large puddle to wade through and it was being regarded with some concern by a man pacing undecidedly about it. We had some discussion and I waded on, while he declared his intention of taking off his shoes and socks and paddling through. I didn't see him again.

There was a family of swans just here, one of the youngsters of which tried to swim in a puddle. Good luck with that!

The river splits into two on either side of a "central reservation" full of daffodils and primroses. I passed my erstwhile companions who were having lunch in the Waterworks Memorial Gardens. I waved but they didn't see me. The woods here are owned by Southern Water and KEEP OUT! (Okay, already!)

Where the path turns away from the River for a spell, there is a piece of ground where today were parked two traditional gypsy caravans, and a modern two-man tent with a real campfire smoking away with that lovely acrid woody smell. In the field next were tethered a rather hairy horse, and the shaggiest pony I have ever seen! I worry about gypsy horses. Further round the path there is a large field beside the railway where were tethered a few horses, but they all had large water buckets. A little further on is a farm and the railway looms right over you on its great bank.
The path goes back down alongside the river and across a cul-de-sac of about half a dozen cottages and then it runs down behind some lovely houses into Shawford. There was the Bridge Inn which does lovely baked potatoes, but not having any cash on me and not hungry anyway, I pushed on now through known country.

The renovators have been here, too. The path has been improved, the riverbank tidied and replanted to encourage water creatures such as voles. Where the houses end there is more evidence of renovation on the far bank: new wooden bridges stand isolated here and there along no path, and water is being let out through channel under the bridges, presumably to feed the renovated canal.
The path was nice and clean today, but with the summer coming on, the nettles and other plants will start to encroach. Still, the nettles attract butterflies and the other plants afford shelter to the river creatures. And I don't like wearing shorts in any case.
And so alongside the water meadows, under the M3, to a choice. The watermeadows of St Cross; or around St Catherine's Hill; or over it.

I miss the Ups of last year's Lakeland holiday. I choose to go over St Catherine's Hill. I loved it, and my legs did it! They will probably hate me tomorrow.

Once over St Catherine's I went along the path that runs alongside the riverside houses and the quicker way into Winchester, missing the Saxon Gate and the Cathedral, which had been my original intention had I gone past St Cross. However, I reached the statue of King Alfred and I had achieved the goal.





And so to the railway station - with a brief diversion into Waterstone's to pick up a new book.

I left home at 10 am and was at King Alf's statue by 3pm. A walk I should like to do again in the fullness of summer, bearing in mind that it might be overgrown by then and not being fully renovated, maybe impassible in places.
Take some shears.