After a relatively leisurely September, and with just a week until the next Old Way expedition (watch this space) a long weekend beckoned on the eastern edge of East Sussex, down in the pretty little town of Rye, famed for cobblestones and having a Beatle living nearby (also pretty close to Hamstreet where I ended the Greensand Way). Whilst the charms of quaint tea rooms, quirky independent shops and lashings of medieval history have much to recommend them, the temptations offered by an OS map covered in footpaths and byways across an ancient landscape proved too much.
So, I sallied forth with Ma from our Rye boathouse lodgings down on Rock Channel (overlooking the River Brede as it flows into the Rother), promising her blithely of a ‘couple of hours of gentle walking’ and a ‘pub lunch’. At least one of those statements was true….
Rye is on the Kent/East Sussex border on the edge of Romney Marsh and an expanse of land that, until recently, in geological terms anyway, was entirely underwater. At the time of the Norman invasion (William and co came ashore at Rye Harbour) Rye was a hugely important sea port, that rose in importance as England continued its wars with France, and is one of the ‘Cinque Ports’ (pronounced ‘sink’ ports) along the Kent and Sussex coast. This is important for two reasons; firstly that, despite being a couple of miles inland in today’s landscape there is no doubting that Rye is a maritime town. Secondly, for walkers looking to discover Rye and its surrounding villages and landscapes, it means that the land between it and the sea is almost entirely flat, marshy and a direct result of changing weather patterns and human interference with river courses.
Armed with a degree of nerdy geology knowledge, we struck out south west from Rye towards Winchelsea, picking up the Royal Military Canal (RMC) path. This follows the course of the River Brede and the RMC, passing over farmland which is peppered with the sand and shingle that ultimately silted up the tidal basin of Rye Bay. Sheep are farmed here, keeping the grass short; we were fortunate to see a farmer with two sheep dogs driving a huge flock across the landscape near Camber Castle. A short detour from the RMC path took us to this incredible Tudor edifice, built in the shape of the Tudor rose and remarkably unchanged since its abandonment in the 17th century. It used to stand on a spit of shingle as part of the defences of Rye but is now surrounded by fields. Against a big dramatic sky it really is a sight to behold.
Picking up the RMC path again, the trail leads though farm buildings and out onto the road that leads into Winchelsea. Or, more accurately, New Winchelsea; the original lies under the waves out in the bay after a series of catastrophic weather events in the 13th century. Edward the 1st himself may have been involved in the planning of the new town, perched atop a hill (a steep climb but worth it for the view) looking down upon the RMC and the River Brede, which originally afforded access to the town as a port.
Entering the town through the Strand Gate, you are a few minutes walk from the beautiful St Thomas the Martyr church, with some of the most glorious stained glass I have ever seen. In the churchyard is the final resting place of Spike Milligan who was, in this author’s opinion, one of the finest comedic minds of the 20th century. “I told you I was ill” is written in Gaelic on the headstone, apparently a compromise with the diocese who weren’t keen on such levity being written in English.
After a pit stop for tea, and a sausage roll, Ma and I descended the hill and picked up the RMC path, heading west along the banks of the canal itself. Built as a defensive line running along the coast of East Sussex and Kent in the Napoleonic Wars the canal is now a haven for wildlife and fisherman. We saw a flight of swans coming in to land (and squabbling) and really felt the peace of the place. Striking off to the left towards the coastline took us across more fields of sheep, the occasional cow and a flock of Brent geese taking their leisure on their way to warmer winter climes. Ahead loomed the sea wall, keeping the water of Rye bay back from the land humankind has reclaimed from it
Climbing the said sea wall, we picked up a path traversing its top with amazing views across the bay; Dungeness power station, on its own shingle spit, was clear as the south Kent marshes sprawled out into the distance towards Hythe and Folkestone. We opted not to hug the coast all the way, but came inland a bit, cutting across the Rye Harbour Nature Reserve, a remarkable landscape that speaks to the everchanging nature of the area and the constant battle with water management. There are hides across the reserve to allow ornithologists a chance to capture the varied local bird life. It's home to humans too; we noticed a number of small dwellings made from old railway carriages and a local chap told us they had been gifted to WW2 veterans to renovate into holiday homes!
The nature reserve eventually (sorry Ma) gave way to the streets of Rye Harbour village, a small conurbation with a huge history. We stopped for an excellent lunch and decent pint of local origin at the William the Conqueror pub, just opposite the RNLI Inshore Lifeboat Station. There has been a lifeboat at Rye Harbour for 165 years and the boat is in the very fabric of the village. In 1928 the whole crew of 17 men of the lifeboat Mary Stanford was lost, a tragedy that must have impacted such a small place massively. The disaster is memorialised in the street names of the place, and by a big memorial in the local churchyard.
From Rye Harbour village we took a straight road back up to Rye, veering off the main road to take a footpath (interestingly not on the OS map!) that ran parallel which brought us back to the RMC path.
You really can't argue with such a glorious walk; the landscape is so varied and interesting and the history so compelling that it's hard not to be drawn in. In the 18km (11 miles) we covered we took in more sights and sounds than you might reasonably expect in a walk twice that long. Its also not massively challenging, mostly because its so flat, although there was lots of shingle underfoot which made me grateful for stiff boots.
I'll be back in Winchelsea very soon as it is the last stop on Old Way days 7-9. At least I know exactly where the pub is ;)
Map:
And if you want the paper version I can recommend the OS Explorer Map 125 for Romney Marsh, Rye and Winchelsea.
Comments