Pett Level to Hastings – 15th July 2019
We have walked from Pett Level to Hastings, or in the reverse direction, several times over the last 7 years. This particular traverse is significant because it is the final piece of the East Sussex part of our declared England and Wales Coast perambulation.
For this auspicious leg we are to be joined by our good friend Beryl, who is a little nervous about walking with us, not having done a significant walk for some time. We drive to the rough parking space opposite the Smugglers pub at Pett Level. Sadly it is no longer in business, so we won’t be patronising it on completion of our walk.
The pub may no longer be able to pull in enough souls to keep its head above water, but the adjacent tiny church, St Nicholas, still continues to attend to the needs of local and visiting souls and has done for most of the last 80 years. However, it is Monday and we have missed yesterday’s Sea Sunday service. Opposite the church is the Pett Level Independent Rescue Boat base. Hopefully our cliff-top walk to Hastings won’t require them to save our souls either.
It has been previously documented that Betty is not well disposed towards the RNLI, through no fault of their’s. She gave religiously to their cause when her boys were young. Then a few years ago she discovered a letter, written from her great uncle to her father. In the letter her great uncle related that when her great grandfather died in 1895, her grandfather and his siblings never saw a penny of his considerable legacy. It seems his brother was the executor, who upon his death in the 1940s, left a considerable sum to the RNLI. The story may well be apocryphal, but it has clouded her generosity towards them ever-since.
Cliff End – east of here the Saxon Shore curves inland behind Romney Marsh and Dungeness
We are to follow the Saxon Shore Way from Pett Level to Hastings, which takes us along the sea wall as far as Cliff End. As its name suggests, this is where the cliffs between Hastings and Pett Level, come to an end. Further east of here is the cuspate foreland of Dungeness, which didn’t really exist in Saxon times. I suppose where the chalk cliffs at Folkestone start should be called Cliff Start. But it isn’t.
The cliffs at Cliff End are impressive, if a little unstable. Here one can view a range of Cretaceous fossils including ferns, bivalves and even dinosaur bones. Apparently the best place for bones is the Cliff End Bone Bed. However, this is exposed at the top of the crumbling cliffs, so it is advisable to search the beach for remains. We make a mental note to return at low tide. We are warned that should we choose to walk the 3 miles to the next exit point from the beach, then on our heads be it. Which is quite likely considering the unstable cliffs. We decide against this option, but may attempt it on a falling tide.
One distinctive plant found growing on the cliffs here is Hottentot Fig. This rather attractive succulent plant is a native of South Africa. I have seen it bearing pink flowers and yellow ones too. The pink colour variety can be found in flower here in July. It does particularly well at Cliff End, hanging in a vast green curtain from the cliffs. Being a plant of warmer climes it cannot normally abide the British winter. However, seaside locations offer frost free weather all year round, so it thrives.
Hotentot Fig grows in sheets on the cliff face at Cliff End
Hotentot Fig in close-up – the fleshy leaves store water in dry weather, but are susceptible to frost
The Saxon Shore Way takes us along the road towards Hastings, before leading us up the back slope of the cliffs, via a footpath. Some impressively large and picturesque houses exist here, some complete with thatched roofs. This is perhaps surprising for an area where the cliffs are eating away into the land that separates them from marine oblivion. I daresay the rich have ways of thinking they can beat the sea. So did Canute, or at least his advisors did.
I’m not clear what happens to footpaths once cliffs take them away? Do they legally move inland with the cliff edge, or just disappear over the cliffs forever? Hopefully the former, so we will be able to walk the coast even after the large houses have toppled down the slope.
The viewing stool-Beryl takes a breather
Someone has kindly left a hand-made viewing stool, which is much appreciated. Beyond the thatched mansions the land is owned by the National Trust, who have kindly arranged to clear our passage for us. Summertime walking in shorts is not a smart idea, when footpaths are choked with nettles. The path may be clear, but the long snaking shoots of brambles are threatening to dive-bomb us from over the hedge, like rope-mounted grappling-irons being thrown over a castle wall.
As we approach Fairlight Cove we are treated to classic ‘A’ Level cliff erosion. It is always a revelation to see in the flesh, what the text books tell us is going on in the natural world. A photograph in a book is no substitute for the real thing. The Environment Agency have been busy at the base of the cliffs here, depositing tons of resistant boulders to protect Fairlight. The problem is that where they have stopped their protective barrier, the sea just erodes the adjacent cliff area. You can’t stop the sea’s action, just modify it.
The coast path at Fairlight has been redirected along one of the roads, as the footpath has been closed for safety reasons. I’m not religious about following every metre of the coast, since sometimes it is interesting to look at the geography slightly further inland. There are some lovely gardens in Fairlight and Betty can’t resist congratulating one elderly couple on their efforts. It begs the question, which will go to oblivion first, the elderly couple or their garden?
The rapidly eroding cliffs at Fairlight, especially where they are not protected by rip-rap boulders at their base
I’m not a great fan of Fairlight, as it has the feel of a settlement that has no soul to it. I wonder about the social fabric of a place with no obvious village centre, lacking shops, services, post-office, church and such like. Of course we don’t need traditional central facilities to socialise, but it certainly helps a lot.
As we make our way from Fairlight up to the tea rooms near Fairlight Parish Church (some distance from modern day Fairlight), we encounter what we assume to be a couple of the locals. We get into a discussion with them about the excellent view across Romney Marsh.
The husband is obviously being Mr Grumpy and can’t resist saying, “It would be better if those things weren’t in the way”, pointing at the wind turbines 8 miles away.
I can understand why people might work hard to ensure the environment around them is to their liking. They have every right to express their dislike of wind farms in their back yard, but even 115m high wind turbines are barely visible at 8 miles distance!
The climb to the tea shop is hot and sweaty today, but we dream about how welcome a bit of lunch will be. Alas on arrival we discover it is shut on Mondays. Upon returning to the car park 400 metres away, we can find no sign advising of opening times. This is soon rectified when Betty biro’s the information in an appropriate place, for the benefit of anyone who might follow.
The new Hastings Country Park visitor centre – it should be serving teas in 2020
We then discover that a new visitor centre is being built for the country park. The builder comes over and explains all the environmentally responsible features they are putting into the building. Alas, the building and its cafe won’t be finished until 2020 – so no chance of a cuppa there today then? Still I’ll put it on my list of places to visit once it is finished.
Moving west we come to a now disused quarry. It is several acres in extent, but only about 5 or 6 metres deep. This probably corresponds with the vertical limit of the massive sandstone bed that would have been quarried for building stone. A footpath takes us downhill into Warren Glen. As we descend I confess to wondering if we are not actually lost. We encounter a concrete water tank and rusting metal machinery, whose purpose I can only guess at. I wonder if stone was brought down from the quarry to here, to be cut into suitable blocks before being loaded onto ships at the beach below.
No sooner do we reach the main east-west path, then we are climbing up the sides of Warren Glen, only to drop down into Fairlight Glen on the far side. There is an interesting beach below, but a sign warns us that it is dangerous. I suspect they are referring to rock falls, rather than the fact it is likely to be populated by middle-aged naked men! We all agree that it is not a spectacle we wish to witness, especially in this searing heat. I never much liked savaloy anyway.
Beryl beating a hasty retreat from the naturist beach beyond
Yet another climb takes us to the top of the far side of the glen, where someone has very kindly provided us with a bench to sit on. The elevation change continues as we gently drop down towards Ecclesbourne Glen, only for a sign to announce that a rockfall has closed the path. The detour takes us a couple of miles out of our way, before returning us to the coast and the East Cliff funicular railway.
Old Hastings, Hastings Castle and the pier from above the Cliff Railway at East Cliff
The steep steps down are populated by swarming Chinese school children. Most look un-phased by the climb, but I suppose if you have the Great Wall of China in your back garden you will take these steps easily in your stride.
On reaching Old Hastings we decide to finish off with fish and chips at The Codfather’s on the seafront, before taking the 101 bus back to Pett Level. Despite being a relatively short walk, the hot weather and the deeply incised glens have made this one of the tougher legs done to-date. Poor Beryl, I suspect she might have preferred one of the easier one!