Sussex Coast Walk - Stage Three - Mini Cliffs And Motor Racing
In life, part of growing up is to learn how to deal with both the exciting times and also the rather more ordinary days the inevitably follow. Not everything can be wonderful all the time. And our walking challenge is no exception. For every day that blows us away with its staggering and breathtaking beauty and challenging hill climbs there will always be something a little more normal, and flatter, to follow.
And with an introduction like that it will hardly surprise anyone to know that stage three of our walk was, well, flatter and a little less exciting that the two previous stages.
Not that it wasn’t enjoyable of course.
We started in the early morning sunshine. Next to Hastings pier, the water twinkled and the sunlight danced and it felt very similar to how we had left the place just a week before, but without the strong winds. It might have been East Sussex but it looked more like the Mediterranean as we set out.
Walking along the seafront, we were pleased to see that social distancing was still very much in evidence. However, some of the cafes had opened since our last visit so it also felt a little more familiar and comfortable than before. Just a short walk took us into St. Leonards, the little sister of Hastings in many ways. I had always thought of it as the cheaper end of town but taking the time to check out some of the buildings as we walked suggested that my view was almost certainly wrong and maybe just a little unfair.
Originally laid as out in the 19th century as a new town, with elegant houses for the well off, St. Leonards became a fashionable seaside destination in the 1830’s. At that time it was not uncommon for the wealthy, including members of the Royal family, to spend the winter on the Sussex coast. As we walked along the main sea-front road, I noticed a beautiful old house facing the beach but looking a little out of place. A plaque on the wall confirmed that this was the first house built in the new town and a place where Queen Victoria had stayed on one of her regular visits.
Having been a little unimpressed with the large and dominant Marine Court, an art-deco inspired building on the sea front, allegedly shaped like an ocean liner, our walk continued into Bulverhythe. Sandwiched between the beach and the railway line, and strangely also known as Bo Peep to some locals, the place seemed to consist of a substantial sea wall and hundreds of multi-coloured beach huts. Also, apparently, the scene of a long departed racecourse and numerous shipwrecks, including a couple of German submarines, it was rich in history but sadly, just like Marine Court, a little underwhelming.
The footpath wound its way around the beach huts for what seemed like miles only to take us up and over a couple of the smallest cliffs I have seen. The very smallest of small relatives of the Hastings cliffs from last week.
The walk down into Bexhill was pleasant with a wide sea-front path and, strangely enough, more rather unexpected history. Whilst people of my generation tend to associate Bexhill with retirement (apparently in 2008 it had the oldest population of any place in Western Europe), the path-side information boards suggested that back in the very early 1900’s it was actually the birthplace of British motor sport. In May 1902 more than 30,000 people witnessed over 200 competitors racing along the quiet sea-front roads and the British land speed record being broken. Whilst financial difficulties, a legal challenge from a local resident and the rise of Brooklands as a purpose built circuit soon put an end to Bexhill’s moment in the spotlight, it is remembered with a sculpture of one of the early vehicles on the walk, along with the information boards
Unfortunately, the place that I had really wanted to visit on this part of the walk, the art-deco inspired De La Warr Pavilion, was still closed as part of the lock down restrictions. Built by the land owning family of the same name, it was clearly an impressive building, although a little tired looking in places I felt. I will have to save the visit for another time.
Rather disappointingly, we missed out on our planned tea and cake break in the pavilion so decided instead to use one of the very modern shelters on the front and eat our own sandwiches. Interestingly, the one place that we saw open in Bexhill was the Sovereign Light Cafe, just around the corner from the pavilion. A little post walk research has identified that this rather ordinary little sea-side cafe was the inspiration for a song by the group Keane, with the video being filmed along the Bexhill sea-front.
The walk continued along a rather erratic but largely unbroken path and past some upmarket beach front houses, especially grand and no doubt very expensive in and around Cooden Beach. The beach just past the railway station here allowed parking on the shingle, not something that I had associated with Sussex beaches for some reason, although it was very quiet on the day of our walk.
It was also here that we had to move onto the beach for a part of our walk. With the tide in and hiding what little walkable sand there may be, the going was a little tougher on the stones until we reached the little village of Norman’s Bay.
We had originally planned for the walk to end here, However, due to our good timing and as a result of still feeling reasonably fit and strong, we decided to continue along the beach side road instead. The scenery in this area was a mix of open, flat land, caravan parks and relatively small private places, mostly in the very unimaginatively named Beachlands. Some of these backed onto the beach and, although we had been lead to believe that it was privately owned here, we saw no sign of it on our walk.
Our slightly extended walk reached a natural conclusion for us in Pevensey Bay, a small and pleasant little place, and, one would have assumed, home to Pevensey Castle. However, as with Camber Castle, which we visited on stage one of the walk, the shifting coast line had left this ancient coastal defence somewhat marooned a couple of miles inland and barely in sight of the sea.
We found a lovely pub on the beach at Pevensey and decided that, after three months of lock down, and also seeing how quiet and empty the place was, that this would be an appropriate place for our walk to conclude. With permission for the pubs to open again having been given earlier in the week, we thought it would be rude not to offer our custom to the landlord.
But our day had a slightly unexpected postscript.
We had decided to get a train back to our car from Pevensey Bay station, just 10 minutes walk away from the beach. However, whilst the pubs may have started opening again, this station appeared well and truly closed to public transport, or at least, within the timescales that we were looking for. So we ended up having to walk a further couple of miles through the village of Pevensey itself, past the castle and over to a station that was actually operational. A pleasant, country walk in normal circumstances, but after 10 or so miles in our legs and our frustration showing, we could probably have done without it, if truth be told.
For accuracy purposes, it didn’t feel right to include the extra miles in our totals for the day, as much as the boost would have been appreciated!
Stage 3 – Hastings Pier to Pevensey Bay
Date of walk - 6th July 2020
Distance walked 10.56 miles / 16.99 km
Floors climbed (using Apple Health app.) 5 floors
Ongoing totals 28.74 miles / 46.25 km / 144 floors
