Hastings to Eastbourne by bike – 13th July 2019
There is a particular section of the East Sussex coast which is begging to be travelled – from Hastings to Beachy Head. We’ve done it several times before, but not as part of our new coast path challenge.
The start of our journey does not begin well, with the cycle ride up the hill to the station nearly killing us. This is not auspicious. However, the last half mile is all downhill and we make it with 3 minutes to spare. This is just as well, since we need all of these 3 minutes to lug our bikes over the footbridge to the far platform, boarding just in time.
Whilst I guard the bikes, Betty finds the train’s guard and pays our fare. Betty has a new gizmo for her bike, which uses bluetooth technology to tell her how many miles she has done and all sorts of other really useful stuff. She sits down to try to work it out on the train as we chug along to Hastings. Unsurprisingly the ride to Hastings is too short and pressurised to achieve anything. I’m happy working out mileage from the OS map – low tech, low hassle.
At Hastings we depart from the station and cycle down to the seafront. Eastbourne is west, but we head east initially, since we want to start from the Stade end of Hastings and complete the whole of the Pevensey Bay stretch. The road is alarmingly busy and we are glad to get onto the promenade cycle path. Hastings, like many seaside towns in the UK, appears to have embraced cycling along the promenade. This means we have a traffic free, leisurely journey for the first part of our ride at least.
Hastings Castle atop the steep cliffs that overlook The Stade
Hastings may have seen its heyday a century earlier, but it is making a real go of being a tourist attraction. It seems to be particularly popular with West African families. A large group of mothers and children are bustling along to the Stade amusements area ready to take their place on the beach. They could well be a Sunday school group, which is reminiscent of the early years of seaside holidays, when a whole village or church group would adopt a particular beach area for the day’s sunbathing and swimming.
The cycle path takes us past Hastings Pier, a well restored public ‘building’ for the use of the general public. It benefitted from public funding, although the Daily Mail saw fit to decry it as a waste, largely because the pier has not been restored to its original Victorian grandeur, put is largely an open decking area for the ‘pop-up’ activities so popular these days. This might be a Pirates Day, a pop concert or a mass yoga session. The initial public management has controversially been transferred to private ownership, with the owners of Eastbourne Pier now managing it. Our bike ride will take us all the way from one to the other.
The pier marks the turning point of the Hastings Park Run, which takes place along the promenade. It begins in the St Leonards area of Hastings and involves a 2.5K run to the pier and then a further 2.5K back again. I tried it a few weeks ago and really enjoyed running with 2 or 300 others along the ‘prom’. Doubtless the collective enthusiasm fired me up to a 28 minute PB.
Hastings Pier, Promenade and Beach
As we pass into the St Leonards area it is apparent that the quality of the shops has improved over the years. New bistros and cafes, many freshly painted in fashionable grey, are now appearing. Only the busy road spoils the seaside ambience. In fact the ambience of the whole of Hastings is on the up, with lots of building repair works going on. Hastings is one of the least expensive places to live in South East England, but has some excellent housing stock. Doubtless its day is coming.
Bulverhythe effectively marks the end of urban Hastings, first giving way to beach huts and then the comprehensive sea defences which lie between the sea and the railway. In the battle against the sea, this is front-line Britain.
An information board advises us as to the geological and human history of this area. One of the more interesting stories is of the wreck of the Amsterdam, which became grounded here in 1749, during its maiden voyage. Nearly 300 years later its remains are still preserved in the clay bedrock underneath the beach. I’ve yet to see the wreck, despite several visits to the area, but I suspect our best bet would be at a very low tide.
Storm beach, beach huts and beach vegetation with Little Galley Hill beyond
Little Galley Hill – Spike Milligan flanked by other local note-worthies
A little further on, the coast rises to the low cliffs of Little Galley Hill. Betty opts for the main cycle path over the hill, whilst I decide to cycle the beach, to admire the shingle loving plants that grow here. Red Valerian and Yellow-horned Poppy are in flower, whilst Sea Kale bears its grape-like fruits. This was an important coastal defensive position during the Second World War, with concrete ‘dragon’s-teeth’ anti-tank obstacles still in place. Famously Spike Milligan manned this battery. A steel likeness of the comedian sits next to the coast path, flanked by two other notable local characters.
A tunnel beneath the railway gives access to the beach here, allowing holiday-makers to combine swimming, kite-surfing and sun-bathing with the convenience of the nearby M&S cafe, Macdonalds and even Halfords – for those who need anything for their bike.
The next obstacle to our cycling progress is Galley Hill. Betty is already at the top, some 40 feet above me. I set myself to the pedals and get a good lick going, however there are pedestrians on the path and a speeding cyclist hurtling down the cycle track towards me. I decide to slow until he is past, before putting my legs into it. I make the top, but my heart rate has definitely moved up a notch.
We came to watch the sunrise from Galley Hill last December, shortly after Betty’s mum passed-away. The sun evaded us, hidden behind the clouds. It was an enjoyable, if pyrrhic moment for us. Today there is no shortage of sun and the breeze generated by our downhill momentum is most welcome.
As we reach Bexhill’s East Parade promenade, we pass one of the rather attractive public toilets that litter the sea front. Bexhill is not a noted seaside holiday resort, but it does a good job of looking after its visitors, many of whom have age-weakened bladders. We pause opposite Dorset Road South and take a walk on the beach. This is an unscheduled stop, reminiscing and dipping our toes in the sea. We married nearby and Betty remembers the beach, her in a wedding dress and me in full morning suit and top hat. We caused quite a stir amongst the holiday-makers that day.
A kiss is evidently not all Betty might expect it to be!
Same beach 6 years earlier!
Our anniversary promenade completed, Betty offers to buy me an ice-cream. At £3.99 it’s not cheap, but at least we get to chat with a Dalek who just happens to have parked himself alongside the ice-cream van. We rest our bottoms on a nearby bench as we make the most of Betty’s significant investment, enjoying the spectacle of the Dalek gliding along ahead of us. He looks friendly enough, but they are unpredictable creatures at the best of times.
Dalek – worrying company for a child of the 60’s
Aging 70’s rockband at the De La Warr
Bruce Wayne would be proud to see his flivver is still attracting attention
The Dalek is part of the festivities taking place in Bexhill. As we near the De la Warr Pavilion I can hear a live rock band playing. Large numbers of classic cars are gathering, not least a number of classic Mini’s from the 60s and 70s. I’m not sure of the exact nature of the celebration, but judging by the hippie dress, the cars and the age of the rock band, I reckon it must have a 70s theme to it.
Pride of place must go to The Batmobile, which looks like a supped-up black Ford Zodiac, embellished with tail fins and an impressive booster rocket. We dismount and walk through the crowds in the direction of the rock band. They are busy belting out “Whisky in the Jar”, sung originally by one of the few bands of the 70s I have heard live – Thin Lizzie. In fact I recall listening to them for free, because I was working the functions bar at university when they were booked to do a gig. I even went into their dressing room to collect their empty glasses. Heady stuff!
There are now so many pedestrians about on the promenade, that we opt for cycling along the West Parade in order to make better progress.
Love messages left on pebbles and lumps of driftwood
After a mile or so of cycling we try to re-join the sea front walkway, only to find ourselves faced with pushing the bikes over a pebble beach. One small benefit is finding a tree trunk on the strand line, which has been thoughtfully decorated with various stones bearing love messages. One of them has 2017 written on it, suggesting it has been here 2 years. Such a thing would probably never survive 5 minutes in most seaside towns. Bexhill is different. A better class of holiday-maker. When we first moved to East Sussex someone pointed out to me that people retire to Eastbourne, but their parents live in Bexhill.
Back on Cooden Beach Road, we descend to the salubrious Cooden Beach Hotel. This is the posh end of Bexhill, but the half-million pound houses are amongst the most architecturally dull you will find anywhere.
Beyond the Cooden Beach Hotel we turn down Herbrand Walk, where the house prices rise above £2 million. Graham Norton used to have a house here, but he sold up shortly after we moved into the area. Hmm! Never liked him that much anyway!
The far end of Herbrand Walk, beyond Mr Norton’s beach house, has no houses – with only beach huts separating the road from the beach. Even these give up, making it possible to drive your vehicle off the road and onto the pebble beach. This is an open invitation to opportunists such as beach fishermen, motor home travellers and the hippie sorts who convert buses, fire engines and ambulances into ‘homes on the road’.
There is only a thin strip of beach separating the railway line and the road from the ravages of the sea, it is not surprising that the Environment Agency are very active in the area. The pebble beach threatens to disappear into the sea each winter, making it necessary to ‘nourish’ it with a mass of new pebbles to protect road and rail links.
Bear in mind that a thousand odd years ago, when Duke William of Normandy first set foot on these islands, none of this coast existed. Instead, the Saxon coastline was several miles inland. The Pevensey Levels that we will be cycling across for the rest of the day, were a shallow bay, which has since been infilled by sea and river-bourne sediment and the draining zeal of our forefathers.
With rising sea levels, the sea is keen to claim back its lost bay, so the Environment Agency fight a relentless battle with it by building sea walls, nourishing the beaches, repairing groynes and all the while ensuring that the Pevensey Levels water is pumped out at each low tide. I wonder how long it will be before they decide to breach the sea wall and let the sea back in, such is the immense cost of their work.
The road takes us across the mainline from Hastings to Brighton and London. It is a narrow and winding route and is a popular rat-run for speeding cars. We pass the Starr Inn, doubtless a former smugglers watering hole in what was an isolated peninsula hidden from the excise men. The cheap decoration of the pub, with faded plastic flowers, speaks volumes and we choose to cycle on until we get to the private road leading to Norman’s Bay.
Pevensey Bay village – Betty prepares to ‘have a sandwich’ – but no sign of my guitar.
This quiet road takes us back across the railway line and hugs the seawall for the next few miles. Betty takes the opportunity to collect a few wild poppy seeds for our garden, but otherwise this is an uneventful and quiet cycle ride all the way to the Beachlands end of the road. Beachlands is a massive caravan park, serviced by buses, delivery vans and campers’ cars. The increasingly busy road becomes less enjoyable to ride on, so we take to the pavement for a few hundred yards until we get to Pevensey Bay village.
Pevensey Bay is one of those significant places that couples invariably celebrate. It was here, during our first caravan excursion together in East Sussex that I took out my guitar and serenaded Betty. No I can’t remember which song I sang, but Betty has a photograph of me on the wall, singing it. Perhaps there is an app that enables you to lip read what someone is saying/singing, from a still photo? It wouldn’t surprise me. Because it is a significant place for us, but more importantly because we are hungry, we decide to sit on a bench and have our lunch. I often erroneously refer to lunch by saying “have our sandwiches.” However, Betty doesn’t normally ‘have sandwiches’, preferring a salad or something with a fork (I’m so glad we put that right!).
The main road towards Eastbourne is a little busy for relaxed cycling, but fortunately it soon benefits from an adjacent cycle lane. A mile further on and we are able to turn off towards Bay View Caravan Site, with the track giving access to the pebble bank separating Sovereign Harbour from the sea. The building of Sovereign Harbour in the 1990s was a major development for Eastbourne, providing safe anchorage for resident and visiting boats, as well as 3,500 homes and a retail park.
Sovereign Harbour – inner ‘floating’ harbour
Sovereign Harbour – outer tidal harbour at low tide
Boats, water and waterside activity, always provide a fascinating distraction whilst travelling along the coast. The harbour had to be dredged out of the Pevensey Bay sediments, with the inner harbour being non-tidal. The inner harbour is accessed by lock gates from the tidal outer harbour which fluctuates from being an area of open water at high tide, to mud flats at low. The whole development is dominated by the impressive blocks of apartments, which have either views of the sea, or of the harbour itself.
Kidney Vetch growing amongst the pebbles above High Water Mark
Chicory colonises the pebbles too
Wildlife appears to benefit from the extensive area of pebble storm beach which provides an excellent habitat for a range of wild flowers such as yellow-horned poppy, sea kale, vipers bugloss, sea bindweed, lesser knapweed, red valerian and wild carrot, not to mention the attendant invertebrate life and birds.
The ubiquitous Martello towers of this coast are represented by two such buildings. Neither appears to have been converted to alternative use, but I suspect it is only a matter of time before they are occupied by someone keen to make an appearance on Grand Designs.
Progress beyond Sovereign Harbour is slowed by yet another vehicle rally and associated funfair. This time the gathered motor vehicles are VW camper vans. Our entertainment is a pop group playing Pink Floyds “We Don’t Need no Education”. As a fan, I find myself singing along as I dodge dogs, children, buggies and OAPs, but in the end we have to dismount and walk with the throng.
Eastbourne Pier – our second pier of the day
As we approach Eastbourne Pier the back wheel of my bike makes contact with the front wheel of a push chair.
The driver of the pushchair shouts “Idiot”.
I hold up my hand in acknowledgement/apology. Only later does Betty tell me that he purposely rammed my back wheel. It seems not everybody is a fan of bicycles. Perhaps he’s a London cabby?
Gatherings of large numbers of people can be exciting, but we have had quite enough by now, so we decide to join the main road for the last couple of miles to Beachy Head. This section of the coast completed, we opt to celebrate with tea and cake, with ice cream, at Bill Bryson’s favourite East Sussex watering hole – Favoloso. A good recommendation Bill. Thank you.
