Day 2
A little later than planned back in August I sallied forth to Gravesend to scoop up the MIL to kick off a two day SSW extravaganza running all the way from Strood to Faversham. I had been quite ambitious, planning two days of 30km each (20 miles a day) but had arranged to spend the night in between at my Aunt’s very lovely gaff in Faversham so knew that rest and recuperation was only ever a short train ride away!
The MIL and I set off from Strood station, just across the water from the imposing Rochester castle. The first 10km or so we wended our way through the Medway towns, taking in castle, cathedral, historic dockyard and beautiful views out across the Medway to the shore I travelled in Day 1. The way was largely pavement and a few playing fields so not especially enervating, although plenty of options for a quick tea stop which we took advantage of.
We emerged onto the Medway Riverside at the Strand leisure park to meet cold steel waters and an stiff wind coming up the estuary, but as we wended our way through the Riverside Country Park, looking out over the Copperhouse Marshes, the sun poked its head out and the beauty and bleakness of the the area came to the fore. The whole stretch of path between the Strand and Bloors Wharf (at Lower Rainham) is part of a protected area which includes nature reserves and glorious views out over the salt marshes and mud flats that serve as habitats to wintering birds. It's rich in industrial as well as natural history, including the fabulously named 'Horrid Hill'. To be honest, its not much of a hill, but a promotory that juts out into the estuary; the name is thought to be a nod to the prisoners who, on escaping to the 'hill' from the nearby anchored prison hulks in the 19th century, met a wretched end on the gallows and were buried in the marshes. Or it may be, less ghoulishly, named due to the cramped and unpleasant conditions of a former cement works on the site in the 1900s. Rather excitingly, one of the last ships to moor up at Horrid Hill ran aground in 1913, apparently with a cargo. amongst other things, of Dundee marmalade, jars of which can still be discovered in the mud.
In the sunshine this is a glorious place with colours and contrasts thrown into sharp relief, but in the grey the life teeming all around you cannot hide its bleakness. Huge skies, abandoned industry and rotting hulks of fishing and transport vessels give it an exposed but slightly spooky feel that, despite being only a stones throw from civilisation, provides real sense of isolation and solitude. I love it.
(I'm not alone, here's a great blog on the area from Luke McKernan)
After a stop for lunch in Lower Rainham (Three Mariners pub) we pushed on to towards Upchurch and Lower Halstow, which was largely country lanes, passing orchards and cottages. At Lower Halstow we paused to admire the beautiful village church, St Margaret of Antioch (did she have a holy hand grenade?), an 11th century church on the banks of the Medway, right next to a navigable creek weaving its way inland. The church includes salvaged Roman tiles in its Saxon masonry work and the remains of 14th centruy wall paintings.
The MIL grabbed a lift back to Gravesend at this point and I soldiered on the final 10km along more rural paths, cutting through fields of soon-to-be-harvested wheat in, by now, fabulous sunshine. The landscape rises up a little more at this point, to the heady heights of 25m above sea-level, a good, errr, 25m above previous levels! It gave rise to lovely views across the marshes to my left, including Barksore Marshes and Bedlams Bottom. By now I was in sight of the Isle of Sheppey crossing, the road bridge that links the island to the mainland and under which the train station to which I was headed. Before reaching that (but after a run in with the biggest dog I have ever encountered, who chased me me down a byway until the long chain they were tied up with brought them up short!) I turned to the north west and headed up towards Deadmans Island. I didn't go that far but went up as far as Chetney Hill (site of a planned lazaret, a place to quarantine incoming ships in times of epidemic disease) before crossing the peninsula and heading south east on the banks of the Long Reach with Sheppey directly opposite the bridge ahead.
The train station was far less accessible to people on foot than I had realised and after a following a false trail, I was forced to scramble up a brambled slope to get to the right road, just in time to board the train to Faversham and a rest for the evening.
Day 3
Back to Swale I went and this time found the path without recourse to scrambling! This section of the SSW is not what I would call especially salubrious, having to pick your way around and occasionally between factories and car parks that serve an Energy from Waste plant, a plasterboard manufactuary and a paper mill. However, there was still lovely views off to the left as The Swale really opens up, and the local industry has made an effort to make a virtue of the areas industrial, and therefore social, history, displaying old grindstones used to grind logs down in the paper mill (they been on recycled fibre since 1992) and information boards to mark historic jetties and pumphouses. All credit, it was interesting stuff and added significantly to an otherwise uneventful path.
Crossing Milton Creek at Kemsley (which sports a light railway using the original engines and rolling stock from the1905 line built for paper mill purposes) you get onto the shoreway proper, following the glittering ribbon of creek back towards the Swale and around Little Murston Nature Reserve. A chap who had set up shop for the day with a set of binoculars shared exciting news of a Grey Pharalope (a wading bird I think)- we were back in the wild!
Following a straight run of some 4km, hugging the shoreline, I headed inland, following Conyers Creek to the former smuggling haven of Conyer, now home to tidy little marina and a very nice pub indeed. And happily my halfway point!
Upon leaving Conyer it was a short walk though scrubland back to the shoreline, before once again taking the easterly path boardering the Luddenham Marshes. At this stage its incredible to think that after 3 days of walking, and despite all this water and maritime history I still haven't seen the sea proper. Thames and Medway estuaries, The Swale and loads of little creeks and inlets but not the North Sea or the English Channel. My point is that this north Kent coast is not an area we think of as being 'the sea-side' in the way we think of, say, Margate, or Folkestone. And to some extent that is true, but the whole place is still redolent with the smell of the sea and the traces of the maritime industries that made a nation. It's a place I think is somewhat neglected, which adds to the experience of walking it because it is 'untamed', but at the same time I can't help feeling that we're collectively missing out on beautiful parts of the world.
My final turn inland took me down Oares Creeek in sight of Faversham and my final resting place for this excursion. The winding in and out of all these tiny creeks and inlets adds serious miles to what, on a zoomed out map, looks like a simple stroll; its takes about 30 minutes to drive from Gravesend to Faversham. Turns out it takes three days to walk there (OK, OK, I didn't walk along the M2, its not a fair comparison!).
Faversham is home to the Shepherd Neame brewery (just saying) and an eclectic and very pretty range of shops and cultural sights, including the national shrine of St Jude (patron saint of hope and impossible causes). For day 4 I'll be starting from here again and taking a shorter jaunt to Whitstable, where I will finally see the sea.
Here's the map for days 2 (blue) & 3 (red)
Guest cat this time, the force of nature that is Perseus, my aunt's Burmese.
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