Bognor to Selsey 13th July 2020
It is a day to celebrate. It is our first post-lockdown coastal adventure. We have spent much of the lockdown re-exploring East Sussex, but at long last we can get out and discover new gems along the English coast.
Billy and Betty on Bognor Seafront
Today we will be using our bikes to go from Bognor, where we finished our South East England coastal adventure last summer, to Selsey. In fact we are due to start our journey at Pagham, cycle into Bognor as far as the pier and pick-up where we left off last time. We will then continue west along the coast as far as we can before Pagham Harbour stops us. The second part of the day will take us from Pagham to Selsey (Manhood Nature Reserve) before returning to the car at Pagham. All very carefully planned.
In hindsight the Pagham Harbour section lends itself to travel on foot, but we don’t fancy walking along Bognor Seafront, or Selsey sea front as urban sections are generally less interesting. So the bike it is – which also gives us the benefit of much greater mileage.
We arrive at Pagham and park at the parish church dedicated to Saint Thomas a Beckett. We can’t really take advantage of public transport to return to the car since we are avoiding it post-Covid19–Lockdown – too many germs! So it’s biking all the way.
From the Parish church we pootle up road to Rose Green. It is a lovely sunny day, perhaps little overcast – but pleasant for bikes. True to form, Betty has a bike problem – an issue with her cyclometer. She loves her technology but it does seem to throw up a few problems. Apparently something “pinged-off”.
You can tell we are out of practice because I next commit the cardinal sin of cycling off, just as a bus pulls in front of Betty. Takes me a while to realise I’m travelling alone, talking to myself, before I realise my error and return to atone for my sins.
The road is a little busy for my liking, taking us through the western suburbs of Bognor. The town is noticeably full of old people (ourselves included I suppose)– literally a dead-end town. Thanks to the Covid-19 pandemic I suspect few if any of the retired of Bognor have left town during the last 4 months. I’m surprised that there isn’t a ‘ring of steel’ around the town to keep the plague at bay.
As we near the sea-front a tourist Range-Rover veers into a rare commodity – free parking space and cuts up a retired cyclist as he does so. A hail of invective is hurled at the driver, who locked inside his hermetically-sealed, air-conditioned box, is oblivious to it. Evidently Covid has changed nothing. I suspect OAP cycling is far more likely to get you killed in Bognor than even a corona virus.
Betty (the youngest person in Bognor) admires the town’s rather ordinary pier
The sea is south-coast blue and yet another offshore windfarm has sprouted up – an increasingly common feature on UK coastline and set to continue for the next 10-20 years at least. We arrive at Bognor Pier, where our last bike jaunt finished and pause for lunch – sitting on a bench overlooking the beach. In front of us is a sea wall covered in concrete sea creatures and one of those typically British seafront information boards, telling the visitor all they could possibly need to know about the area.
All you need to know about Bognor
Lunch finished, we go in search of a ‘covid ice cream’ only to find a long queue of socially distanced people waiting outside the local chippy and ice cream palace. Sod it – I’m sure we’ll get one somewhere else. Now that we have linked up with our previous leg, we about-face and cycle back along the prom until a sign tells us to use the road.
Being the law-abiding souls that we are we duly take it. Not wishing to retrace our steps, we go looking for roads to beach but most of the likely contenders are private roads, with tourist constantly advised that there is “no access to the beach” or put another way “kindly bugger off”. Eventually we find a suitable turning, at the end of which is a narrow gap (probably to bar access to bikes) and we escape onto the shingle beach. Here yet another lovely sign makes it clear that outsiders are not really welcome in Bognor.
This sign is probably the “Bugger Bognor” original
Fortunately the beach belongs to The Crown and we push our way over the pebbles admiring the Queen’s collection of sea kale, ragwort, teasel, red valerian, common mallow, sea bindweed, wild carrot and knapweed.
Thank you for allowing us access – Your Majesty
To celebrate the Millennium, the residents of the neighbouring estate had a whip-round and erected a sundial and some nice recycled plastic benches and board walk. They probably realised that there was no stopping visitors using them their benches, but since tourists only operate between 10am and 4pm, they probably figured they would have exclusive use of them early and late in day, and out of season.
Millennium Beach Furniture
To be on safe side they have warned visitors not to put barbecues on the plastic boardwalks. I am amazed that 20 years on the plastic decking is as yet unscathed. The sundial has no vertical indicator – probably because some ‘oik’ is bound to break it off, or even worse, sit on it and prosecute for damages. Instead anyone wishing to know the time is advised to hold a finger vertically in the middle (alternatively have you tried using your watch?)
It is hard work pushing bikes along the top of the pebble bank, but we feel it better than going through a private estate and getting shouted at by a raging Bognor resident. As we push along I notice that a number of the residences here are impressively opulent, but I’m surprised how many are really quite basic. I suspect Bognor has pretensions of grandeur, but not the means.
A little further on we discover that the beach has its own beach club – strictly members only of course. Sitting on top is a lifeguard lookout post. I wonder if they save non-members, or is that members only too?
“Sorry Sir, I can’t rescue you unless you have a current member’s card.”
The modest beach houses and beach club, with lifeguard look-out cabin on top
After pushing along the beach for ½ mile we are glad to get back onto roads and decide to head back to Pagham Church. That is until we spot an open public toilet, a God-send, since Betty has needed one for the last 30 mins. Mindful of the appropriate Covid protocols we take a chance. Fortunately most of the visitors are as wary as ourselves, with only one other chap in the gents. Nonetheless, going into a cubicle and squatting (to no avail) brings various challenges. Fortunately there is a sterile bog roll dispenser and I have a bottle of hand gel.
Relieved, in more ways than one, we cycle past the car and through a bike-friendly kissing gate onto the Pagham Wall to the north of Pagham Harbour. We quickly realise we could spend a whole day exploring this site. Birds are everywhere, with a notice telling us we can expect to hear cettis, sedge and reed warbler; whilst lapwing, golden plover and widgeon are commonly seen wheeling across the sky – put up by birds of prey.
A large flock of curlew are feeding – wading in a brackish reed bed to our right. To our left the tide is out, exposing mud and vast expanses of saltmarsh.
Pagham Harbour at low tide (left) and several hours later at high tide
Sea Purslane (left) and Sea lavender (right) occupy the upper shore area
It appears there is no problem cycling the North (or Pagham) Wall, although a temporary sign asks cyclists to take care. Many of the south coast councils could take a similar attitude towards cyclists!
We pass a few walkers/bird watchers at the Bognor end of the reserve, but it gets quieter as we cycle towards Sidlesham. Here we are able to enjoy the solitude and numerous saltmarsh plants such as sea spurrey, sea purslane and sea lavender.
As we approach Sidlesham, I am cycling ahead and negotiate a tricky hump in the path over a land drain. 10 seconds later there is a cry from behind me. When I return Betty is lying in the hedge with the bike on top of her. She failed to get adequate momentum over the hump. Now she might reasonably get the proverbial hump herself, but no camel she and we quickly return to cycling. We eventually come out at Sidelsham and the Crab and Lobster pub. It is tempting to go in, but social distancing and a desire to complete our cycling drives us on.
Betty discovers momentum is everything if you want to stay on your bike
Sidlesham is at the western end of Pagham Harbour, being one of three ports within its bounds. The other two were at Pagham, to the east and in the area near Norton Priory, further south. At one time, Selsey would have been an island, not unlike the Isle of Thanet, with silting of the Ferry Channel eventually allowing the mainland to incorporate it.
In days-gone-by, smugglers operated in the harbour, able to float large quantities of contraband in on rafts, whilst movement across the harbour by boat was actually quicker than the horses used by the excise men.
In 1876 the harbour was reclaimed to provide 700 acres of farmland. However, in 1910 a huge storm breached the sea wall, returning the harbour to its twice-daily tidal regime and its current domination by mud flats and saltmarsh.
Throughout the Middle-Ages, tide mills existed at Sidlesham, using tidal power to power flour mills. The last of these was made defunct by the 1876 land reclamation.
Just beyond Sidlesham Quay a trackway, designated as part of the National Cycle Network, enables us to avoid the busy B2145 and cycle to the RSPB visitor centre overlooking Ferry Channel. Alas the centre is shut due to the Covid lockdown – so no cuppa for us.
Instead we settle for a swig of water and examination of a glacial erratic found nearby, probably deposit here by a melting iceberg several thousand years ago.
Glacial erratic at the RSPB Pagham visitor centre
We are now forced to join the speeding traffic going along the only road into Selsey. It is not a pleasant experience, so we take the first opportunity to turn off left and re-join the sea wall path. Once again we have superb views across Pagham Harbour until arriving at the cemetery at Church Norton. The car park here is provided free of charge by the RSPB and is packed out. We wonder why, but quickly realise it probably has little to do with bird spotting, but rather it is the most convenient point for access to the beach.
Church Norton Cemetery and RAF Selsey
Not being of a beach-loafing nature, we follow the minor road south west, which takes us past the location of the former RAF Selsey, which was home to Spitfires and Typhoons supporting the D-Day invasions. The road eventually returns us to the B2145, where not wishing to re-join the traffic, we cycle along the footpath/cycle lane on the opposite side of the road until we get to the Four Ways roundabout. Here we can make our way through back streets to the Promenade at East Beach.
The Promenade is actually little more than a sea wall with a metre-wide footway along its top. On its seaward side is a pebble beach stabilised with groynes. Judging by the difference in height between one side of a groyne and the other, this is a beach whose material is exceptionally mobile. We decide to cycle north-east for a few hundred yards, where this area’s mix of beach shacks and grand designs dominates the landward side of the promenade. Many of these are well below sea level, an ever-present danger along the English Channel coast.
A large blue commemorative plaque advises us that Eric Coates was inspired by Selsey and Pagham Harbour to write “By the Sleepy Lagoon” in 1930. Some years later it was used by Roy Plomley as the signature tune for Desert Island Discs. Returning along the promenade we pass a smart looking residence, whose interior catches my eye. A railway carriage has been incorporated into its structure, suggesting it was once a ‘plotlands’ style residence prior to its present incarnation.
This heavily disguised railway carriage must have exciting views of the sea during winter storms
The promenade brings us out at East Beach Car Park occupying a low area which was probably once a tidal inlet. A boating lake still occupies its inland section. Most importantly, Betty finds an ice-cream vendor who provides us with what we hope is a covid-free Magnum. The immediate area is full of teenage boys and girls strutting their stuff in the hope of attracting the attentions of the opposite sex. Under normal circumstances this would be taking place in the school playground, with the protagonists dressed in school uniform. The warm weather and informality of the environs enables the girls to wear their best eye-catching apparel and the boys to bare their chests. We decide not to follow their example.
The adjacent area of Selsey is dominated by the fishing industry. Most of the boats are either launched from the beach, or lie at anchor in the lee of Selsey Bill, the southernmost headland of Sussex. The numerous wooden huts within this area offer winkles and other fruits of the sea, to take-away or to consume on-site at picnic tables surrounded by the authentic sight of nets, ropes and pots, accompanied by the reassuring whiff of recently landed fish.
A fishery offering on-site consumption, amidst all the trappings of the local fishing industry
After eating our Magnum’s sitting on a bend perched on the seawall we cycle south west along the promenade where quite a few people are out enjoying the sun on the narrow shingle beach. Three sea kayaks are being given tuition in a quiet area between 2 protective groynes. It is sunny, but not unpleasantly hot.
Messing about in boats – at Selsey Bill
We turn inland onto an area of greenspace where a few people are walking dogs. We are at Selsey Bill and can now see westward across towards Isle of Wight and even the tall buildings of Portsmouth in the distance. The Isle of Wight looks a bit surreal as it comes as an unexpected sight. It seems so close but is probably 20 or more miles away.
The Isle of Wight from Selsey Bill
Until now Selsey Bill was just a line from Madness’ “I’ve been driving in my car”. Now it is a real place, such is the joy of travelling under your own leg power.
We try to see if there is a way along the sea front, but no clear access is visible, other than along the steep pebble shoreline. We therefore turn inland along the road and come across an amazing tower structure perched on top of a care home. I suspect the clients won’t be able to get to this viewing tower and suspect the staff use it to get away from them for a fag or a coffee.
Care-home with tower
Turning into Clayton Lane, Betty complains that her front tyre is going flat. We always carry a puncture repair kit and pump but have never used them – until now. It is a learning curve, but I quickly remove wheel, tyre and inner tube. The cause is obvious – an inch-long blackthorn spine through the tyre. Amazingly it is fixed within 30 mins, I even check the inner tyre surface for any other thorns and remove a small spine. We continue into West Street where we can get to the sea. Here a concrete sea wall and slipway is being lashed by bigger seas on this side of the Bill. Despite the seas being gentle, the impact of waves can be considerable here.
Betty puts the finishing touches to our repair job
We find a footpath along the low cliffs towards the large caravan site at the extreme west of this part of Selsey. Beyond it our way is blocked by the coastal realignment at Medmerry Nature Reserve.
The coast has regressed significantly here as we get beyond the groynes of Selsey. This is what is known as the ‘last groyne syndrome’. Where groynes no longer exist, the sea is free to carry away pebbles westward via longshore drift. These pebbles once removed can no-longer protect the cliff line from wave action. Not only has this led to rapid regression of the cliff-line but further along a few years earlier, the sea was been able to breach defences and flood the caravan site. Since then various defences have been installed including massive amounts of Larvikite rock from Norway.
Last groyne syndrome has led to rapid coastal erosion west of Selsey
The Medmerry Nature Reserve coastal alignment scheme was part of this activity. This is one of the biggest coastal realignment projects in Europe, with the sea being allowed to flood 3-4 km2 of coastal lowland. A sea wall embankment was put in at its boundaries. The whole new tidal basin is now an RSPB nature reserve as well as providing a buffer against the sea, allowing storm flooding to occur here rather than over the caravan site. Without it, Selsey could return to being an island once again, since the land between here and Pagham Harbour is only just above sea level.
Larvikite groynes stabilise the beach pebbles
This is all very interesting, but more pressing problems suddenly present themselves when Betty discovers her tyre has deflated again. After much checking we discover the second thorn must have punctured the inner tube after-all. On repairing it we are unable to re-inflate and suspect I may have damaged the inner-tube during repair/getting the tyre back on. Things are now getting a little fraught. It is also getting late in the day. There is only one thing to be done – I have to cycle back to the car and return to collect Betty and her dead bike.
1.5 hours later, after cycling furiously back to Pagham Harbour and driving the circuitous road back to Selsey, I pick up the despondent Betty. Visits to the Coop for food and Asda for the toilet, fail to lift her spirits.
We eventually arrive home about 10pm. This part of the coast is right on the limit for day visiting. Hopefully our next jaunt here will not involve bicycle repair work.
