Seaford to Eastbourne – (East Sussex) – 24/07/09 – 13 Miles – Helen

Despite the best efforts of the twits who read the weather to put us off going, me and Helen decided to take our chances anyway and head for the Coast. This being my fourth outing over the Seven Sisters in the space of the year, and Helen’s first. So needless to say the predicted rain never materialised with the Sun shining all day. That said it was blowing something of a gale for most of our time there, forcing me to keep on my fleece to avoid the wind chill, whilst hard as nails Helen mostly got by in just a t-shirt.

Anyway the train pulled into Seaford at 1216, and the first order of the day (alright then second after a pit stop) was to sit on a bench facing the pebble beach and sea, and then devour our sandwiches. To our left was an impressive airborne kite which was to be our first flying display that hour. So with grub down, a brief snoop at the outside of the multicoloured beach huts, and a walk around the Martello Tower, we were soon up onto the top of Seaford Head. Here the full power of the wind became immediately apparent, with my hasty decision to go into t-shirt mode myself, quickly being reversed. Once up there of course, the deceptivly close Seven Sisters come into view, with only our second flying display of the day, three helicopters, momentarily diverting our attention.

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Past Hope Gap, where Helen thought better of taking a paddle in the Sea, and we were soon at the estuary at Cuckmere Haven. As you approach the watery inland diversion you come across the (former) Coastguard Cottages, which apparently survived the best attentions of the Luftwaffe during the War. That however was a mere local difficulty compared to the joint attack they now face from a combined attack of coastal erosion, and Environmental Agency apathy. Anyway the information board gives all the relevant phone numbers of people to badger, if passers-by want to support the current residents fight to have their seawalls maintained. So pretending to be anything but apathetic ourselves, we left the cottages behind as we had our second stop off of the day to attend to at the pub. Having not been overly impressed by the food the last time I visited the Golden Galleon, this time it was a case of drinks only, all the while sinking and snoozing into some comfy armchairs for the best part of three quarters of an hour. However we had to move sometime if we were to avoid having to get the bus onto Eastbourne, so it was the usual case of crossing back and forth over Exceat Bridge, returning along the other bank of the Estuary, and back onto the cliffs to get stuck into the Seven Sisters themselves.

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Up and down, up and down, up and down we go, which is pretty much what the Seven Sisters are all about. One short sharp ascent, followed by a short sharp descent, and do the whole thing again six more times, all the while accompanied by the constant motor of the waves far below. As such the multi layers of blue on the Sea, makes for an idylic contrast with the light green of the grass, all the while separated by the brilliant white of the cliffs inbetween. They are brilliant white of course because more and more of it is falling into the Sea, one particular chunk (which you can see in the photo) looked as if it was about to go anyday now. Mind you all those badger holes everywhere you look, can’t be helping matters either.

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Anyway having polished off all seven we found ourselves at Birling Gap looking for some afternoon Tea. There wasn’t much more than the most basic of fare at the café, however my coffee and Cadburys mini roll went down nicely, as did Helen’s coffee and rock cake. So by the time we were moving off again on the way to Beachy Head we were now into late afternoon. The wind had begun to drop slightly, but was still not enough to persuade me to take off my extra layer. Along the way we admired the Belle Tout lighthouse, which is now surrounded by scaffolding since my last visit (obviously moving house again), and Helen was able to spot some microscopic flowers, which oafs like me are more likely to just tread on. What I also hadn’t seen before at the top of Beachy Head, was a notice board by a telephone box giving the phone number of The Samaritans (some sad stories here of course, but are not worth dwellling on).

From that point we were finally in full descent mode as we headed towards the town of Eastbourne, and the pier which moved further away from us the more we walked towards it. After the briefest of peeps into ‘Helen Gardens’ (for no other reason than …… well you work it out ?) we were down onto the promenade in the beautiful light of the early Summer’s evening. I can’t say the beaches at Eastbourne look much to me, but with the fading sunlight on them, they took on a golden brown glow, as we were able to make out small figures walking dogs, and partaking of other activities upon them. Anyway fish and chips was our next mission, and after some debate as to whether there would be a shop on the pier itself, we instead found a more than acceptable Harry Ramsdens, on the other side of the road that led to our approach into town. Thus fully stuffed with cod and chips, we did the final grim mile through Eastbourne town centre, dodging the local feral kids, to make the 2031 train back to London. In the Time out Country Walks Book 2 (where this walk comes from) it suggests that you allocate 12 hours to the day including travelling (which I have scoffed at on my previous visits). On this day however that proved spot on, so by the time we finally got home, it was basically time for bed.

Walks since last blog entry: (1 x seven and a half miler – Grand Union Canal / Osterley Park).