The Bewilderness

The Greensand Way

The Greensand Way was completed this weekend. This is a long distance walk registered with the LDWA and clocks in at 108 miles, stretching from Ham Street south of Ashford and finishing in a Haslemere alleyway with a 'Limpsfield plaque'. It has taken most of the year to walk across the rolling hills of Kent and Surrey. 

The final section, walked yesterday, joins the Way south of Wonersh and follows the path in its meanderings west across fields and woodland. Surrey is a deceptive county south of the largest town. One assumes that, south of the downs, that the land will flatten. Yet, the path becomes much more undulating and can become difficult to navigate, especially in the Hurt Wood. During these stretches, there are some steep climbs that can tax the walker. Despite the low gradient, they are steep. 

There is a succession of small, delightful villages with an untouched, rural charm seen less as you get nearer to London. Hambledon, Wormley, Witley and Thursley all hold themselves keenly to the eye. 

Only the final part disappoints, when the path turns south on the final descent towards Haslemere through Hindhead Common. The track runs through woodland by Gibbet Hill and passes round the Devil's Punchbowl but omits much of the view or the best walks. They took the Punchbowl away and forest operations have also scarred the landscape at the moment. A pity. 

But another walk completed. 

 

Leafmould and mud: autumn is here

The Greensand Way follows the southern ridges of the North Downs past Dorking. From that town, one would assume that the northern slopes (Box Hill) are the higher points. Yet, south-west is the second highest point in the south-east (I have already visited this controversy and it is definitely not a peak!): Leith Hill.  

My group walked from Holmwood to Shalford yesterday along well-appointed footpaths through the fields and woods of the Surrey Hills. Beautiful rolling landscape with fading greens as the year turns. Like most Surrey walks, views across the weald towards Sussex are worthwhile without the encumbrance of spectacular. Apart from the tower on Leith Hill, I found no singular note to distinguish this excursion. With the rain, the endless mist and dripping rain in the woodland, the walk connected again to the seasonal cycle and brought home how summer has gone and boots again will squelch through mud and leafmould. 

Leith Hill downgraded

There is some controversy as to whether Leith Hill is the tallest hill in the south-east (a nebulous region unless you take the European MEP constituency as your guide). Leith Hill is  974 feet tall and, through the artificial addition of a tower, can be said to rise above 1000 feet. However, Walbury Hill in Berkshire, is also 974 feet. This is either an even tie or some loose work. So, take a county top viewinstead and we find that Leith Hill is recorded as 968 feet, some six feet smaller than Walbury Hill. This may be a small and pedantic point, but even though Surrey is my county, I have to concede to the Berks on this one. And climb it too.

The Greensand Way Part the First

For a country so far north, walking in the snow is a rarity and a treat. Not that we can indulge in skiing, cross-country or otherwise, just a trudge through the usual muddy paths, now whitened and hardened by snow and frost.  My treat was, on Saturday, the commencement of the Greensand Way: a long distance walk that wends its way from south-west Kent up over the Downs and the Surrey Hills to Haslemere. 

The first section takes its course from Ham Street, a small village south of Ashford and circles Ashford to the West before striking out towards Sevenoaks. The path is level and clearly signposted. It was rare that we needed to resort to the map. The ramble involves fields and woods and villages. There is little elevation on this part of the path: even streams are a rare encounter.

Yet, the scenery was uplifting, even if the rolling white ended in the march of fields. One special moment was that vast expanse, cleared of crops, white snow mingled with the brown earth and a stark electrical tower planted in the middle of sight. One does not appreciate the countryside of the home counties for their wilderness but for their punctuated vistas of nature, suburb and pub. 

And the occasional surprise: a pet cemetery tucked away in woodland with crosses raised to Twix, Hammy and Puda Cat. Purrfect!