Harlow Circular - 8.1 miles

Due to various delays caused by the weather, it was only this week that we finally got out of London for a walk. We took it nice and easy with a low level walk that wasn't too long in distance. We took a train from Liverpool Street to Harlow, which is 30 minutes away. We had timed it right, it was pretty glorious weather.





Although walking around London affords its own pleasures, being out in the country was a relief and also a different source of amusement. Out in the crisp air, we encountered the oddest concrete contraption in the middle of the field. Despite GPS and other newfangled iPhone applications, we still had no idea what this was.



Fields stretched in all directions. It put me in a Yellow Earth mood, which you'll see in the way I've framed some of the photos today.



As we climbed into a field, we met the largest pony in the world. It was really cute, with a shaggy mane, oversized hooves and tail. Perhaps it's a horse, but it looks like a pony - a giant pony.

It doesn't look as big in this picture as Ali's fairly tall. But when it got excited and clomped towards me, I did start to quake. It was a whole head and mane taller than I am. Sorry, folks, all those pictures were blurry.





This field of corn made me feel quite optimistic that spring is around the corner.





We had a North By Northwest moment around this bend of the track. From a distance, Phil asked, "Is that tractor moving?" We weren't sure. But soon, it bore down and was almost on top of us.

Running in mud = splashes.



All we need is that pony to be in this next photo.





The pleasures of the countryside include clean, crisp air, pretty landscapes and the reassuring squelch of mud. Although the sun was brightly shining, as we crossed meadows and fields, we sank ankle deep into swampy, marshy sections.

I love my boots so much. It's miraculous the way water rises up to my ankles but my socks and feet remain dry.





"What is that?" asked Phil. It was a curious shape for a plane.

Round a corner, we stumbled across Hunsdon Airfield, a former Second World War RAF base, now used for light aircraft.

Those airplanes look like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.









After a nice sit-down, we started up again. By this time, we were starving. We'd wandered into Hunsdon as advised by the walking guide. Unfortunately, Hunsdon has two pubs. One did not serve food and the other did not serve us. The lady gave us a look and pretty much turned us out.



I remembered I had a small packet of mango and melon strips in my bag. Unfortunately, my hands were shaking and the wet slices were slippery - all but one strip slid through my fingers and straight into the mud. Phil started laughing.



Would have been good if there were pies indeed.











It was at least 4pm when we finally found food at the Plume of Feathers pub. The friendly service more than made up for the simple fare.

A.A. Milne Walk - 15 miles

Perhaps it's because of the universal attraction of Pooh Bear, but for some reason, we had more guest walkers today than ever before. Two scientists from Dr.J's lab and Chris, a friend of my colleague, with his most suitable last name, came along. We've been doing these walks for a while now. And while it's usually good whether we are few or many, having some fresh feet along for the jaunt injects new energy into the group.

From London Bridge, we got the train to Ashurst.



As we moved out into the countryside, I chuckled as Chris audibly reacted the change of locale by commenting, "Hey, even the graffiti is more soothing out here."



The walk was very picturesque as the weather was glorious. There was a sense of enjoying it to the fullest as this might be the end of summer and the beginning of the winter period of short days.





Our new group dynamics quickly found its stride, as various folks split into groups according to pace. This didn't last throughout the walk, as quite often, there were shifts. It was great as we got a chance to chat and get to know different people.





The tree caught my eye. It was startlingly bleached against a vibrant backdrop.





I was a little disappointed that this toadstool had lost its spots. But Chris had a marvellous shot of one that looked like something out of a fairy tale, with folk living under it. According to Chris, many animals seek out plants for their hallucinogenic qualities and are quite inebriated during certain seasons. I've never witnessed it myself, but having seen the cats at the studio get a little silly over catnip, I'm convinced.



We made our way into the famed Five Hundred Acre Wood of the Winnie-the-Pooh stories.



We stopped on the bridge of Pooh Sticks. It amused me that there were posters in English and Japanese. Japanese folk must love Pooh. Of course, a game ensued. Chris won! "It's all in the selection," he grinned.

I lagged behind to pose Edward on the bridge. Some kids were clattering back and forth. One of them spotted Edward and shouted, "Look, someone left a bear!"

"He's mine," I snarled, to my surprise. No kid is getting his grubby hands on Edward!





Whenever I think I've seen it all, something still surprises me still. We peered behind a bushel and spotted this. There were excited gasps all round. A couple of us edged nearer for a look.



Finally, we reached Pooh Corner in Hatfield. It was just closed but we managed to beg entry into the shop for a few minutes.



It was obviously a very quaint part of the world.



It was the longest walk we've ever had. We were definitely glad when it was over and we could celebrate with a few choice sips of whisky at the train station.

Couldn't agree more!

Wise words from Eastbourne!

We did it! Rawr! Seaford to Eastbourne - 14.6 miles

After a few delays due to bad weather and various walkers being away, we finally managed to get our act together for what Ali calls, THE BIG KAHUNA, the big dickens, the granddaddy of all the walks - the level 10 difficulty 14.6 mile trek from Seaford to Eastbourne.

We'd been saving this walk for ages, waiting for the right time when we felt strong enough. Finally, it was time before the days got any shorter and it'd be too dark. It was also a fitting crown for the end of the summer season.

We made a semi-early start from Victoria and headed on towards Lewes, to make a change for the Seaford train. Seaford is pretty pleasant as seaside towns go, much prettier than Folkestone and a lot less busy than Brighton. It was a bright sunny day, and all manner of walkers were out for a jaunt.

The seafront was very clean and picturesque, complete with the cutesy candy cane bathing huts. Psst, this beach is largely artificial due to sand and stone having to be imported to top up the washed away beach.





Quite quickly, we made the first steep ascent up the cliff to traverse a large green plain with sheep.



This house reminded me of that lone barn in the high yak pastures of the Himalayas. I'd love to live somewhere like that - with miles around me, undisturbed. But no sheep, thanks.



This coastal route is one of the best in England, where the path follows the rolling white cliffs of the famous Seven Sisters. Here's one of the best peeks of the dramatic chalk ridges.





Before long, we started downwards towards the shore. The waves lapped against a little cove and beach. Unfortunately, route was split by a estuary, which was a little too deep to wade across. Ali was all for wading across, but I'm a firm believer in non-soggy socks. Thankfully, Dr. J plumped down on the side of being cautious and not being swept into the current.





Thus began a 4km detour inland along the bank of the river to find a crossing. As it was such a lovely day, it really didn't matter. It felt quite good to keep striding.

This river is the River Ouse, which we'd walked along a previous time, further in near Lewes. Part of the joys of walking, is connecting the geography of the land in a way that traveling via train or vehicles do not provide.







As we curled back across a tarmac bridge, we encountered two bizarre sights. The first was a middle-aged lady who was attempting to do the walk in...heels. Mind you, they weren't stilettos but still...it seemed a little crazy.

The second - we heard before we saw it. There was a hideous loud squawking and what could only be described as a scene out of The Birds, where a large gaggle of geese flew around in concentric circles before descending in the waters. We stood and gawped for a while.





Soon we were back in view of the the coast.





As we climbed upwards again, we reached a plateau of what looked like a random smattering of loose, white chalky stones. However, on closer inspection, there were different patches of stone messages, some had been kicked over and scattered, some no longer legible as their stones were stolen and reused.

This was still pretty intact. I carefully stepped around it.



We followed the up and down curvature of the Seven Sisters, named for the seven hills of the coastline, giving our legs a good workout. These cliffs are made of chalk, and are currently receding 30-40cm every year.



As we curled around another steep point, it got a little more crowded. Walkers were playing "Look how far to the edge I am!" with each other, waving the arms with their mouths open as they posed for photos.

I like to walk pretty close to the edge too. Somehow the sight of the blue sea and the seabreeze revitalised me. Dr. J and Ali preferred to keep a more prudent distance in. But this sight of the famous Belle Tout was worth the risk. This Lighthouse was built to protect ships from the hazardous protruding cliffs of Beachy Head, recently, it's been turned into private residence.



Part of the festivities were also due to a speed-skateboarding race. The racing track had recently been laid over and bikers and skateboarders were showing off their skills.



As we reached the peaks of Beachy Head, the highest chalk sea cliff in Britain, I soon came across the various tributes laid for the suicides here. On a warm gorgeous day, it seemed a little criminal to imagine taking your life at this beautiful spot. I could imagine the urge though, if one was stood here in despair in a howling gale with the sea thundering below.





I like this shot. The shape of the path reminds me of the route to Lobuche, where the paths were far narrower and right on the edge. It was a wonder how quickly we got used to it.





We spied our final destination over the last curve, the town of Eastbourne, which grew from a stone age settlement. Known as one of the sunniest places in Great Britain, this was once a popular holidaying spot.



It wasn't so bad after all. Admittedly, once we started hitting tarmac again, the feet were definitely aching. But I could have trudged on for a bit more. 10/10 difficulty walk...easy peasy!