A Ramble in East Sussex

ON THE SOUTH DOWNS WAY

In mid-September 2018, I spent a pleasant Saturday with my two grandsons walking the south coast of England. We took the train from London Victoria, then two buses to arrive at our starting-off point, the attractive ancient village of Alfriston (St Andrews Church has Saxon origins). The first part of our journey took us through pleasant pastoral scenes — beside the banks of the River Cuckmere, tiny villages and through attractive, shady forest — to arrive at the estuary of the River Cuckmere, near the Seven Sisters Visitors Centre.

For the second part of the journey we walked above the clifftops of The Seven Sisters (seven cliffs). These soaring chalk cliffs, the highest in Britain, rise up spectacularly from the English Channel and are breathtaking, as are the views out to sea. This must surely be one of the finest sections of coastline anywhere. At Birling Gap we refuelled with cups of hot chocolate, then set off on the last leg of our journey, passing two lighthouses at Belle Tout and Beachy Head to arrive at last light at Eastbourne. 

A wonderful journey, highly recommended.

 

To Frenchmans Cap — October 2018

FOUR TO THE FRENCHMAN 
This was my ninth trip to Frenchmans Cap in the Western Tasmania World Heritage Area. I never tire of this amazing tract of mountain wilderness which attracts people from all over the world. For the first time in many years we had perfect weather — mild, calm conditions and clear blue skies. Our party of four included my younger son Richard. The rocky climb over weathered lateral ridges to the shattered quartzite summit was straightforward. On top hardly a breeze was stirring, an unusual occurrence on any 5,000ft peak, but especially on this one which regularly receives the full brunt of the Roaring Forties.

I've visited this mountain in all sorts of weather — enduring in turn mizzling, steady and driving rain, bone-chilling cold, sleet and hail and heavy snow. I've even seen Frenchmans Cap when the entire dome is shrouded in ice, and cascading rivulets are frozen in time into long, pendulous icicles — an unforgettable sight. But for me the ultimate experience is still to be had in fine, calm and sunny weather, when visibility stretches away endlessly in all directions to a hazy blue horizon and half of Tasmania opens up before you. 

"If one could spend a night on the knees of the monarch, beside those quiet lakes, and watch the moon gradually light up the regal symmetry of the marble heights, the scene would form a vision of sublimity to remain in the mind for evermore." — Charles Whitham, 1914.