Lewes via Rodmell Circular - 9.6 miles

Our morning began at Victoria Station, which was large and any meeting needed to be co-ordinated military style with mobile phones instead of walkies talkies. The train journey to Lewes (pronounced Loo-wes, and not loos!) took just over an hour.

We had another glorious sunny day, it felt like proper summer had arrived. I felt a faint twinge of concern for the new baby hedgehogs born early but it felt lovely to have heat on the skin. Glorious global warming, eh?

We began our walk with a gander through the Southover Grange Gardens, where the flowers were in bloom around the fine Elizabethan house built in 1572 by William Newton, the Earl of Dorset. A stream runs through the garden and some of the oldest Mulberry trees date back around 350 years old.





We made our way out of the town, a long a trail that got gradually rougher and thiner until we began the steep climb up to the ridge. Ali and I were ahead and we didn't notice the incline as we were chatting until we both started gasping for air. It was pretty steep, which spurred Ali and Jonny to run to the top. Nutters.



The next section of the walk along the ridge afforded wonderful views over Lewes and the rolling fields of oil seed rape. Lewes is an old medieval town, so most of the buildings and houses were squat in the style of the Tudors. No skyscraper interrupted the view.





This trail was so popular someone decided to build a concrete path right across the top of the hills.



The brown mound is a mystery. According to the museum we visited later, no one knows where it came from, or why. But it's been there a long time.




Eventually, we descended to ground level and had lunch at the Abergavenny Arms, where the very kind manager re-filled our water bottles for no charge. The sun was still going strong so we sat in the gardens while we ate.

After lunch, we made our way past Monk's House, where Virginia Woolf resided. Our trail led us to the infamous river Ouse, where she drowned herself by filling her pockets with stones.

For the rest of the walk, we followed the bends of the river back to Lewes. Sights were sparse apart from the remnants of a medieval riverside settlement. But it felt wonderful to be striding away in the sun, with an unobstructed sky above us.







We made it back to Lewes in record time, so much so, we were disbelieving we had actually covered 9.6 miles. Ali checked the route on Google Earth later and it indicated we did. If Google said it, it must be true!

Since the old legs were doing fine, we climbed up to the crest of the hillside town and visited Lewes Castle. Built since 1066, Lewes Castle was one of string of castles build for fortification after the Norman conquest. The castle is unusual as it has two mottes, a fun fact we learned as we discovered the definition of "motte." The stairwell up the towers were tiny and narrow.









Usually, we just fade out on the return journey on the train and mumble a goodbye before going our separate ways. So it's a historic first that we had enough left to head to Jon's for a barbecue.

Stonegate Circular - 9.7 miles

For once, we had a totally hitch-free start to the day. Coffee-ed and muffined up, we caught the train to Stonegate which is about an hour away from Charing Cross station.

Right outside the station, we were greeted by the sights, sounds and smells of the countryside. A herd of lively brown cows pushed forward to greet us within their pen, lining up as if they were posing for a group photo. Of course, there's always one bugger with his head down. Actually, another tried to climb atop his fellow cow, but I shall protect their modesty here.



Our walk took us over some rolling fields and deep into farmland. It was picturesque. Sheep and lambs frolicked with springtime abandon. We spotted a sheep and a newly born lamb, still attached by its umbilical cord. It was already standing on its wobbly little legs.



Look at those faces. No more shepherd's pie.

The trail continued past oast houses. See those strange conical roofts? We wondered what they were. Atop the white cones, usually perched a large wind-vane. Dr Phil offered a guess that it had something to do with pigeon rearing. Was this back in the day when they still used pigeons as carriers? Being a Londoner, I've grown accustomed to the perspective that we have far too many pigeons, so the idea of breeding them deliberately was hard to fathom.

But on return, I found out that "an oast house is a freestanding kiln for drying hops, "ale" is brewed without hops, "beer" is brewed with hops added." Read more about it here.

We ventured further, past woodlands and rivers, over a rail track and the back of some posh houses.







We had to inch along the side of a country road, where cars would zoom past, some of which were gorgeous antique leisure cars like the ones you'd see in Brideshead Revisited. Oh the lords racing to their country manor!

Mr Ali turned around, with his arms spread wide and said, "I don't like this road, it's quite dangerous and we could go splat!" I winced as a car zoomed by and he withdrew his arms just in time. That would have been too literal. The safest way to proceed was to press yourself against a hedge, and when a car raced by, to almost throw yourself into a ditch.





After a yummy lunch at the Rose & Crown pub in Burwash, we were back on safer ground as we cut through more farm land. The lambs came running up and snuffling our hands with their noses. For some reason, they seemed to like Dr J.



The trail led us past horse and pony grounds, with strange structures that we identified as training gyms.





We had no sugar cubes but this chap seemed to like Lionel.



Dr Phil delighting a pony with fresh grass.



We had gorgeous weather. Spring was definitely in season, orchards were fast flowering and the bees were out at work.











Mr Ali sitting on the telephone exchange in front of a staghorn tree, or so we were told, by the owner of the house.



Oh I made a secret discovery - that's where he lives!



It got pretty icky at times today, but it was a mark of how lovely a time we were having that no one minded. Not even after being stuck ankle deep in sludge. At one point, the path was so squishy I climbed over a barbed wire fence to avoid it.

There's also a strange delight to be walking with two scientists and two mathematicians. When we walked through a field which looked like it had been scattered with stone or rock, Lionel picked up a piece and bit it. I was aghast as on closer look, it looked like a piece of bone. "Interesting," he said, thoughtfully. "It appears to be bone."

When we walked by a river and a pond, I said "Hmm, the colour's a bit odd," to which, Ali replied, "There's too much nitrogen in the water."

As a urbanite, I also found it useful to point at flora and fauna and expect Dr Phil to identify them.

"What's that?" I asked.

"A pheasant, " he replied.

"And what's that?" I pointed to another.

"Another pheasant." Ah, I'm learning.

Dover to Deal- 9.9 miles

After another tricky start on the trains - what is it with the British and trains on the weekend? - we arrived in Dover, a not too picturesque town on the southeast coastline of England. With the castle on the hill peering down upon its inhabitants and visitors, the port town is situated at the narrowest point of the channel between England and France.



As we were rather late for a pub lunch, we picked up some sandwiches and sushi and made our way to the path up past the ferries and piers towards the cliff.



Leaving behind the more industrial part of Dover, the walk quickly led us to much prettier scenery of rolling plains and glimpses of the dramatic cliffs of Dover.





It was a lovely sunny day, and walking around the paths on the edge of the cliffs, reminded me of the lovely walk from Phortse Tenga to Dole. As I was lagging behind on my own taking photos, I put on the Himalayan folk song, "Resham Firi" on my iPod.

We followed the trail down to the waterside about halfway through the walk. Like most beaches on the east coast, the beach is pebbly rather than sandy.





It took another couple of hours and a couple of beers before we reached Walmer Beach and slowly ambled our way into Deal.

It felt a bit surreal as the path gave way to long wide stretches of beach and sky.





I loved the little beach houses sitting prettily in line on the beach, alongside boats at rest from their watery wanderings.







As fitting the day, we rewarded ourselves with a large portion of fish and chips wrapped in paper.

Saunderton via West Wycombe - 10 miles

After a little kerfuffle with the tickets, we finally made our way to Saunderton to resume our weekly practice of long walks.

Saunderton is about an hour outside London, a town surrounded by rolling fields and lush green hills. We began with an easy stroll in the Chilterns through sloping meadows and woodland.







The trail through the forest was very pleasant, until the paths became rather muddy. In that situation, you could either walk through the squidge or try to edge around the side. However the sides of the path are lined with holly and gorse bushes and shrubberies; pushing past those required a little patience and a little tolerance for pain.

I had the option to protect my face or my lens. I chose my lens. And swore a lot.



Thankfully, the trail dried up and became delightful. We spotted deer, pheasants and many dogs came bounding through cheerfully. A couple of dogs were huge, as large as little ponies.





After lunch at the Black Lion, a little pub near the woods, our route led us past quaint old churches, graveyards, a mausoleum on the hill, down to the old Hellfire Caves and back. We didn't have time to enter the caves, which consisted of man-made tunnels built for aristocratic debauchery.



The walk ended with a steep climb which took my breath away, and a gentle stroll back to the station.

We learnt a few new terms today. "Kissing gates" and "bridal paths" are now part of my vocabulary. They make the countryside sound rather randy.

And oh, there was sheep.