South Downs Way revisited

It’s the Journey.. not the destination…

In May last year I set off to walk the South Downs Way. I wrote about it in my Blog “let me sit beside you” . This year i decided to do it again. I had the idea of making it an annual pilgrimage from Winchester to my home of Eastbourne, although in truth I intended to stop at the Long Man of Wilmington a few miles short of Eastbourne and sup a pint of Long Man ale at the Giants Rest pub to mark the end of my walk. Last year I did not make it all the way and had to stop near Brighton. A combination of a very badly adjusted rucksack and a terminally damaged tent and a pulled muscle prevented me from completing the full walk. Never the less It was a rich and rewarding experience.

This year I found my proper Karimor rucksack and had borrowed a very good and lightweight tent from a friend. Once packed it was still very heavy to lift but this rucksack had the proper supportive hip strap and adjustable back pads and shoulder straps. So when I hoisted it on to my back it felt comfortable and the weight was properly distributed. I was all set to go. Nothing would stop me from completing the walk this year. So early on a very hot Sunday morning I set off along the Way and encountered my first bit of good fortune. I had intended to bring a walking stick with me to help me along, but In the rush to get the train to Winchester I realised I left it propped up against the ticket machine. I looked up to the sky as I approached the official start of the South Downs Way and asked the Goddess if she could lead me to a suitable stick in the woods along the way. quite amazingly there on the ground by a tree at the start of the South Downs Way, I found a stick the right height and strength lying on the ground. It had obviously broken from the tree some time ago, but there it was waiting for me to pick it up. yes this was going to be a good walk.

As I set off it was 23 degrees and beautifully sunny. though perhaps too hot to be walking with full kit. But despite the heat and the loaded pack on my back, I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders as I walked further along the way towards those hills. It was a hard days walk, but a good days walk. Despite the heat I made very good progress. The first days walking is perhaps not the best scenery wise. The Way passes through fields and country lanes for much of this first section. But eventually it climbs up towards the hills, and so my first day ended with me camped on top of a grassy hill with fine views across the valley below. I took off my boots and my socks and felt the grass and the earth beneath my feet. There was still a few hours of daylight left, so I meditated for a while and even did my own attempt at Tai Chi before I lay on the grass to relax and take in the sky.

At this point I saw something amazing. Hosts of tiny spiders were spinning their webs in the grass and they were moving towards me. The evening sun glinted on the silken threads making them look like a laser maze from mission impossible. The webs reached me.. and then went around me.. not over me. At that point I really felt a connection with the land that I had not felt for a while. The realisation hit me that I was not doing this walk as a physical challenge to be overcome. Certainly walking 16 miles a day with full kit was going to be a physical activity, but I realised that the journey rather than the destination was the important thing. I wanted to reconnect with the Land around me, feel part of nature rather than just some bloke walking through it!

The next few days were to leave me physically exhausted but mentally and spiritually buzzing. Although I wanted to end at the Long man and have that pint in the Giants Rest Pub, I realised that it did not mater if i did not make it that far.

Sunrise over Exon

After the Storm – Graffham Downs

What was more important was spending time on my own, with none of the distractions of everyday life, a walking mediation and a chance to reconnect with this sacred land.

I walked through sites of bronze age settlements and was again reminded how ancient this trackway is. I was walking in the footsteps of my ancestors who lived on the hills over 3000 years ago. The South Downs Way was not just a walkers paradise back then, it was the main route between settlements. On two occasions I had a “timeslip” moment whilst walking on the downs. The first was at Graffham downs, the site of a bronze age settlement. Cross dykes and bell barrows are still clearly visible on the site. when I passed through the site, it was a misty morning and no one else was around, I found it easy to imagine standing amongst the original inhabitants of the site. The second moment was the following day just past Bignor hill. Bignor Hill has on a clear day some of the finest views across Sussex. But this was not a clear day, It was the day after that storm (more of that in a moment) and a thick mist hung in the air. Visibility was not much further than two arms lengths and as I followed the track, I stopped and listened. I swear I could hear the gentle tramp of feet and the murmured voices in conversation using an old language. I had a clear image of folk from a era long past walking along the way. My reverie was abruptly broken as another walker in Bright red jacket suddenly came out of the mist bringing me firmly back into my own time. I am not sure which one of us jumped the most!

On my third day , my weather app forecast a 50% chance of storms and rain. Well that’s not bad odds I thought when I woke up. Plus it was 16 degrees as opposed to 25 degrees so much more comfortable for walking than previous days. So undeterred I set off on one of the hardest pars of the route. It was one of the hardest parts due to the amount of going up and down hills involved on that section. For a land feature called the Downs, there was an awful lot of going up! (and yes I know the name comes from the Anglo Saxon word for Hill, which was Dun) About midday, just after I had passed through Graffham Down, I heard a rumble of thunder in the distance. Thinking we were in for showers, I stopped and put my waterproofs on. The next moment there was an almighty clap of thunder overhead and the heavens opened. I have stood in torrential rain before, but never have i experienced rain quite like this. It was as if someone was constantly tipping a bucket of water over me. Add to this the constant thunder and now lightning and it all got quite intense. The Rain was so heavy that the chalk path beneath my feet turned into a small but raging river, flowing up and into my boots. I had absolutely nowhere go for shelter as I was on an exposed ridge of the downs. Visibility was down to an arm’s length at one point. I had no choice other than to wade through the path and try and make my way through the storm. It was both one of the scariest things I have ever been through and one of the most exhilarating!

The storm eventually stopped as I neared the foot of the hill, but by this time my boots were full of water and the path was treacherous. This part of the path is very rocky and uneven chalk. When chalk gets wet it becomes incredibly slippery and greasy. So there was much stumbling and tripping as I walked on. The upshot as I discovered later that evening was some very fine blisters on my heel and toes. Later that day the sun came out again and so I found myself a nice spot to set up camp and try and dry the very wet contents of my rucksack. I decided that as most of my clothes were wet i would completely strip off and sit on the downs not just barefooted but totally naked. What a wonderful feeling this was. The late afternoon / early evening sun drying my clothes whilst I lay there naked in the wildflower meadow watching birds of prey hover and swoop for their tea. I did not even mind the odd bug munching on me as I lay there. After all I had plonked my body on top of their home! Another moment of absolute peace and tranquility spent on the sacred earth of my homeland.

The day after the storm was to be my last day walking. The blisters on my heel were proving painful despite plasters, and further heavy rain and thunder storms were forecast. So once again I did not make it all the way to the Long man and that beer in the Giants Rest Pub. But none of that matters. I live down the road from the Long Man and can (and do) go there anytime. But once again I have some memories and experiences to treasure. On this walk, despite the physical exhaustion, I have felt a greater connection to the land and this earth than I have for a very long time. That is not failure, that is a raging success. My body may still ache now, but my life has been enriched by the experience. Plans are already forming in my head for next years walk. I don’t think I will attempt the whole way again. I think I will start from home this time a go the other way and just walk for 2 to 3 days and explore the landscape that surrounds my home.. but then again.. The Gods may have other ideas.