Seaford To Brighton – 4th January 2019
Today we have decided to utilise public transport for the first time, to assist us with our coastal walking. The three previous walks have required a circular route in order to return to our car.
For the next section along the coast we intend to walk from Seaford to Brighton and catch the train back at our journey’s conclusion. Travelling east-west brings some benefits as parking in Seaford is free of charge, whilst parking in Brighton attracts a substantial financial penalty.
Arguably the downside is that we will have the prevailing wind in our faces, but the pocket invariably wins out in decisions of this sort. From our car park near Bishopstone station on the western edge of Seaford, we pass the Seaford Yacht Club yet again, but resist the draw of another cup of tea.
Soon we are passing the ruins of the tide mill that once existed here, using the energy of the twice-daily tide to drive the machines. Who knows, one day technology may make the use of this environmentally friendly resource and the powering of similar factories, economically viable once again.
Beyond the tide mill, the east bank of the Sussex Ouse is home to 21st century industrial land use, including the ferry terminal which shuttles cars and passengers across to Dieppe on a daily basis. It even has its own station, although I suspect few passengers arrive by train in these days of motor car dominance. Perhaps the arrival of driverless cars will change all this soon.
The River Ouse is quickly crossed by a swing bridge, with the river soon to our left, as we head back out towards the coast along its west bank. We are pleased to find that this is a pleasant traffic free promenade, presenting views of the river, the various industries that line its bank and the decaying structures that once supported a much higher level of marine activity than today.
The view east from Castle Hill across Newhaven Harbour, towards Beachy Head
There is no official long distance trail along the coast from Newhaven to Brighton, so the walker needs to plot his own course. We opt to follow the Fort Road overlooked by the mass of Castle Hill and Fort Newhaven. This Fort was built in the 19th century to protect the port and I dare say we’ll visit it someday. However, we are keen to keep our walk as coastal as possible so stick to beach level.
As we turn the corner and head westward, we have views of the dauntingly precipitous chalk Cliffs that stand between us and Brighton. Beyond the car park which sits next to the Westside Breakwater, the tide is too high up the beach to permit us to walk below the cliffs, so we are forced to scramble up where a natural gulley makes the climb less precipitous. On reaching the top, we find ourselves at the western end of Castle Hill, with magnificent views towards Brighton in the west and Beachy Head to the east.
The first part of the walk is a little threatening with sheer Cliffs on one side and the urban fringe of Newhaven on the other. It feels like a playground for urban bikers to try out their machines, one of which I am certain I can hear in the distance.
Peacehaven, the next settlement along, is a relatively modern creation as an outlier of the city of Brighton. It started its life in 1919 as a ‘plotlands’ town of self-built houses, similar to those at Langdon Hills in South Essex. Perched on top of the cliff, with limited access to the beach, the town has little social or economic links to the sea.
Steep steps and cliffs at Peacehaven
We discover a steep concrete stairway built in the 1970s allowing us to get down to beach level here. An enormous rampart and promenade protect the base of the cliffs from the erosive power of the sea. Steps lead down to the chalk beach although a coating of green algae requires us to be careful as we descend. Chalk rock pools and ridges covered in brown seaweed is a strange combination, but fascinating nonetheless.
The Promenade comes into view to the far right
We find a quiet bit of beach, accessible due to the piling up of beach pebbles against the promenade. Out of the wind, we settle down to our lunch, only for a small pig like face to thrust its pug-nose close to mine, intent upon a share of my sandwich.
A voice, more in hope than expectation, calls out “Lucy come here.”
Unfortunately Lucy does not take the voice seriously, although she quickly appreciates that I am not prepared to share my sandwich with her. Then the owner of the unauthoritative voice appears and apologizes.
Cliffs at Peacehaven, protected by the promenade/sea wall at its base
Limpets on the chalk beach
Call us rude, but we decide silence is golden and decline to acknowledge her apology. I suppose we could say “it’s quite alright – as the British too often do – but then she would doubtless assume it is and be none-the-wiser for it. Alternatively we could voice our displeasure, or even get upon our soap boxes and rant. Disapproving pursed lips win the day (either way, Lucy doesn’t give a damn and continues to scurrying along the beach ignoring every word her owner throws at her).
After a further half hour of walking I start to feel a bit claustrophobic, hemmed in by high Cliffs on one side and the sea on the other. Fortunately a suitably placed road winds up through the cliffs and provides us with access to a lofty vantage point, where we can share the spectacular sea views, with the lucky residents of Peacehaven.
Ironically, only the residents nearest the sea really get this benefit, as all the rest just get to see the backs of the houses in front.
Perhaps in time the sea will one day take those nearest the cliff edge, thereby improving the view for those further back, until I suppose it is their turn to go over. However, the quality of the sea defences suggest that this scenario could be some way off yet.
In fact our decision to climb proves to be an inspired one. As we peer over the cliff edge, it is evident that the promenade does not continue any further.
After half a mile or so we do find a way back to sea level, via some further steep steps which wind their way down, hugging the white chalk, to a small bay below. From here we can see that it is only a short walk across the beach before we will be reunited with a further substantial promenade leading into Brighton.
Alas the brown algae-covered chalk of the beach is very slippery, so we have to stick close to the cliff where erosion by the sea keeps the rocks clear of seaweed. This is not my favourite place to be, at the bottom of a chalk cliff, prone to rock-falls. The algae-free zone narrows, forcing us still closer to the cliffs. I envisage some little Peacehaven ‘oik’ dropping something on our heads from the top of the cliffs. Fortunately pesimism gives way to reality and with a sense of relief we make the promenade around the next bend.
Unstable chalk cliffs or slippery algae-encrusted beach material? Hobson’s choice!
A little further on we find a small cafe at promenade level which serves teas in mugs, instead of those silly short wide coffee cups which allow it to go cold. Hot liquid and a slice of cake on board, we move on to Brighton Marina Village where we get to photograph the sun setting over boat masts. It is a tranquil scene, watching the setting sun and fishing cormorants diving into the clear waters of the marina, with the edifice of Roedean School on the cliffs beyond, bathed in the glow of the late evening sun.
Brighton Marina Village
One section of the harbour appears to have been earmarked for the local fishing fleet. These heavily used utilitarian vessels stand in stark contrast to the sleek clean lines of the neighbouring millionaire yachts. I suspect the agreement to permit commercial fishing vessels in the marina was a condition of being granted planning permission, rather than the developer’s deep love of old salty dogs.
Brighton East Pier as the evening sun sets
The final walk into Brighton takes us alongside the Volks electric railway, probably the oldest electric railway in the world. As the city lights supplant the fading sunlight we are treated to a spectacular sunset over the Brighton Pier and even a murmuration of starlings honour us with a brief flypast.
A short train ride back to Bishopstone station returns us to our car.