At last, sharp sunny days with frost. Walkers in the North Downs were rewarded at the weekend by a cobalt sky, heavy frost, colourful sunsets and perhaps the remnants of snow from the previous Wednesday night – it was hard to tell where the frost stopped and the snow started. I walked at Beckenham Place Park on Saturday morning before taking the Fackenden Down walk in the afternoon. As soon as we got a bit higher in the hills, the conditions became increasingly picturesque. Magpie Bottom, a hollow that faces north, was a picture, but unfortunately my camera battery had died and we resorted to phone camera images. The last time I saw similar conditions was in January 2022 but on that occasion the temperature must have been even lower because the frost remained glued to the trees even in mid afternoon whereas on Saturday there was some kind of thaw happening where the sun was felt. A sublime, memorable walk.
Please contact me at ammcculloch49@gmail.com with comments about the walks.
Pictured below: sunset from the top of Fackenden Down; moonshine at Fackendon Down; Adam (the author) and Bonny (Photo by S. Hart); looking east into Magpie Bottom; looking along the little valley north from Dunstall Farm; Dunstall Farm; ice on Beckenham Place Park’s lake; swimmers in the lake; looking east along the lake; the lake amid frosty reedbeds
Happy Christmas and New Year everyone! Great to see so many people use Kent Walks Near London for their end-of-year outings once again – particularly as yet again the festive season has failed to produce those ‘crisp’, ‘frosty’, ‘bracing’ walks the Sunday supplements are so fond of telling us about. But we plough on regardless… learning to enjoy the dankness and the shades of grey, the browns and blacks of the Kent countryside at this time of year. Well we would have ploughed on if it hadn’t been for horrendous bouts of cold and flu that has grounded even this most militant of militant Kent walkers. I’ve barely managed a foot-foray in the past couple of months.
Yesterday, though, I took on the mighty High Elms loop – adventure is guaranteed once you’ve got past the social dog walkers, many of whom don’t seem to get more than few hundred yards from the car park. I really enjoy the woods on this walk, one huge holm oak particularly commanding attention on the quiet side of the loop away from the High Elms centre. There are also pines, and some larches, and an unlovely but wildlife-friendly scrubby field on the opposite side of Shire Lane that always attracts kestrels (perhaps owls too, late in the dusk) hunting for mice etc. Birds were thin on the ground. I heard a thrush, but other than a solitary kestrel and the usual robins, great tits and parakeets there was nothing to report. I thought I heard an owl, but I suspect it was just some bloke putting on a silly voice while calling his dog.
Photographs: A kestrel wheels away after hovering over the scrubby field between Farnborough and High Elms; winter dusk in the woods; one of High Elms’ many paths; a sweet chestnut in late November at Lullingstone’s Beechen Woods.
The area around the Beeche centre and cafe at High Elms – the old Lubbock gardens – are great to explore, especially with kids. The walk is pretty gentle, with no steep sections and it’s easy to shorten it if you need to. I needed to as dusk and a bout of sneezing settled in. Parking in the car park at High Elms is ideal but it gets very busy, which is why my route suggests parking in Farnborough village near The Woodman or the church and starting/ending there.
An El Classico of an autumn day. And about time too. We decided that the Hosey walk on the Greensand ridge route at Westerham was the one for us, given the foliage, and views of the Weald from Mariner’s Hill. This time last year the Heaverham circular walk at Kemsing provided something very similar but the warmth of that late October 2023 day seemed freakish at the time. Today was more normal, just a lovely day – neither warm nor cool. The leaf colours, especially in the little valley of the infant River Darent, were superb as hopefully the photos below show, and the vista across the roof of Churchill’s Chartwell gaff as magnificent as ever. I was expecting to see redwings recently arrived from the Netherlands and generally more birds flocking together. But nothing much happened on that front, although mistle thrush were heard and a large buzzard lifted off close to us in one meadow. A pint at the Westerham Brewery place on the way back was an outstanding finale. However, the effect wore off as my football team lost.
Sunny weekends have been in short supply this year. Hopefully we are overdue some. It’s a great time for butterflies and wildflowers like scabious, particularly in the chalky North Downs walks. I also love the displays of rosebaywillow herb… so colourful alongside ragwort. And there’s the wild marjoram and thyme to enjoy. It’s a great time of year, though look carefully and you’ll notice the grass is yellowing, the trees looking a little tired in places as August continues. I love a hot walk, and nothing beats the Mysterious eastern valleys and Fackenden Down walks for trapped heat and big-time humidity. These walks can be combined for a 7-mile epic, as can all the Shoreham, Otford and Eynsford routes. And they are only a 40-minute train journey away from Peckham Rye/Crofton Park/Catford etc. I’ll be setting off shortly …
Great to see so many people enjoying walks this weekend, a fair few using the KWNL routes and following the GPX from the look of the WordPress dashboard. I’ve helped a few out with directions from time to time – people are always tickled pink when they realise they’re talking to the actual bloke who wrote this site.
Today I walked the ‘mysterious eastern valleys of Shoreham‘ route. The path by the field is very overgrown. I was prepared for it so brought secateurs. Despite my snipping that path will still be daunting and slow going. I advise a diversion: check out the map on the route’s web page to see it – it involves walking down to Shoreham church from the station then taking the path heading north and eventually crossing the railway line and the A225 before heading east, steeply uphill and joining at Point 3. It’s not difficult, honest.
And it’s worth it. Right now this is a brilliant route. From the hamlet at Austin Lodge up to Romney Street the wildflowers are fantastic: wild marjoram and scabious; mauves, lilacs and purples with knapweed, devil’s bit scabious, the yellows of trefoil and ragwort, the deep pink of rosebay willow creating a sheen of vibrant colour. I walked with clouds of meadow brown and gatekeeper butterfiles with the odd brimstone and chalk hill blue thrown in. As ever in summer, the Magpie Bottom valley – between Knatt’s valley and the Darent valley – was humid, still and quiet. A little owl called, buzzards soared. I decided to extend the walk past Romney Street to Magpie Bottom and over Fackenden Down, bringing me out at Shoreham station just in time for the 5:38pm Blackfriars service. Perfecto.
It was great to hear that Kent Wildlife Trust made it to their £196k target to buy an extra 26 acres to extend their Polhill Bank reserve, which features on a couple of KWNL routes – Pluto and Meenfield Woods. I headed out there earlier today, sacrificing the first set of the French Open tennis final. I had a subsidiary mission – to buy a shrub. I was actually planning to go to Coolings for this purpose, near Knockholt, but the traffic was so horrendous on the pertinent routes past Bromley and Hayes that I diverted to Polhill Nursery so I could return to SE London via the Orpington bypass road, up through Chislehurst. I had a good look at Polhill Bank. The first pyramidal orchids were showing, along with loads of milkwort, speedwell and all the June usuals. My expertise does not extend to plants beyond the common species. There were few birds around: I heard a cuckoo briefly, which is something, a whitethroat and eventually a yellowhammer. Buzzards soared, a swift swooped around; there were no swallows or martins disappointingly. However, for the first time I saw a lizard at this reserve. I’ve long wanted to see one here because KWT’s website proclaims their presence on these sunny slopes. So I was delighted. I really had to look and just caught it in the corner of my eye in a gap between vegetation. I stayed on the path and was determined not to disturb it in any way as it was sunning itself on a piece of wood. As a result my photos are rubbish. But that is less important to me than the fact I documented it and didn’t tread on anything I shouldn’t have – and left it in peace.
Common lizard at Polhill
Heavy rainfall has formed pond just beyond Polhill
My wellies came in useful on the Hever walk on Saturday. I’ve never worn them in early summer before. But my hunch was right… there are still a few quagmires out there. Watching a young couple ahead of me try to negotiate the mud in lightweight trainers made me wince. There’s not really the same problem on the North Downs chalk walks, where the drainage is much better thanks to the geology. Except where there’s clay (Andrew’s Wood hillside I’m looking at you).
Meadow, Penshurst
Common spotted orchids, Hever
Northern lake at Bough Beech
In June it’s generally a good idea to stick a pair of secateurs or tough old scissors in your rucksack if you’re doing a Kent walk. It seems odd I know. One or two of the less well used paths become entangled in brambles, nettles etc this month and next. This is particularly the case this year because rain has kept hikers away and some of the paths have been left unused. The Eastern Valleys walk east of Shoreham definitely requires a bit of snipping as you walk along the fields on the Darent Valley rim. The diversion to the Percy Pilcher memorial viewpoint is in need of a trim at the best of times. And at Chiddingstone, near the start, the path leading into the swampy woods is nearly impassable. If you prefer, you can divert to walk along the field edge – it joins the main path as you enter the woods. The same thing happens later as you near the River Eden on the return leg. There are parts of the Hever walk, in Stock Wood and Newtye Hurst Wood where you might need to divert off the main path and it‘s easier to do a little judicious snipping than try to battle your way through. Especially if you’re wearing shorts!
Overall the Weald of Kent is obviously wetter than normal for the time of year. Bough Beech reservoir is brimful for once and the mires and ponds in the woods of Hever and Chiddingstone are well topped up.
There are plenty of smartphone apps for this purpose but without knowing what you’re likely to see or hear software such as Merlin or Birdnet can mislead if used in isolation. I’m not an expert but birder and fellow Kent walker Dave most definitely is. I’ve never seen him use an app. He just stands in the middle of the path for ages building up an aural picture from the space around us. “Chaffinches somewhere in that oak 30 metres to the right; greenfinch behind us, maybe 200 metres, nuthatch flying to those conifers… look, there it is, mistle thrush down low …” I find it quite annoying to be honest. But it’s a remarkable display of skill, patience and knowledge built up over years.
What doing the odd walk with Dave has taught me is that it’s best to learn a few calls of birds you are likely to see/hear and then, once you are familiar with them, start adding other likely species. Some, robin, blue and great tits, blackbird, you can learn from the garden or park. Cuckoo is obvious and one you can hear this month and in June on the Ide Hill, Chiddingstone and Hever walks in particular. Greenfinch is very distinctive too and dead easy to pick up once you know its chatter and “wheeze” – similar but different enough to more common goldfinch. You hear it more in parks and gardens though than on the KWNL walks.
Wren – one of our smallest, but loudest birds. Photo: Wikimedia Commons
It took me ages to realise that wrens were incredibly loud and identifiable; I’ve got that one down now, along with song thrush, greenfinch, chaffinch, long tailed tits, chiff chaff, blackcap, coal tit, goldcrest, and most recently, nuthatch. I’ve no idea what dunnocks sound like, so I better give that a listen, and treecreeper too. Bullfinch is a toughie because you really have to listen out for their weird “rusty gate”-like whistle and toots. Yellowhammer is easy. To see one of these I recommend the hedgerows on the Polhill route, once down on the valley floor; Fackenden Down hedges; the Eastern Valley walk and the Chevening walk. A great one to listen for now is common whitethroat. These have arrived from Africa now and are filling our hedgerows with song; they sound a bit like their cousins the blackcap but less rich and burbling. There are loads of other, less common, summer visitors to tick off, which all may be encountered on a walk at KWNL – willow warbler has a lovely song, nightingale obviously, garden warbler… Cetti’s warbler is startlingly loud and a bird that sings disconcertingly close to you but from deep inside a thorny dense bush, so you can’t see it.
So, I’d say use a combination of memory and app to recognise birdsong. Use the RSPB site and British Birdsongs to learn two or three bird species at a time, then use one of the smartphone apps to record and analyse what you hear – having listened out for the birds you’ve tried to memorise. It doesn’t seem easy at first but pretty soon you’ll start recognising the patterns. After all, it’s just music in another form and the difference between a chiffchaff and a wren will soon be as obvious as between Dua Lipa and, say, Raye. Or Chaka Khan and Whitney Houston. Or Teena Marie and Cindy Lauper. Or George Benson and Philip Bailey; Luther Vandross and Maurice White. I could go on, and would quite like to.
We chose Lullingstone for our Christmas morning walk. Well, I didn’t actually. It was the family choice, and a surprise one because I was, for once in my life, all for staying in and wrongly assumed my partner would be. I’m glad we did though: staying in all day and not walking anywhere is hardly ever the right choice, even with a turkey to roast and fudge to finish.
There’s no denying that in the mild, grey, mizzly, boring weather the Darent Valley landscape seemed to have lost a bit of its lustre. It felt as if we’d taken it by surprise – it’s usually ready for us and induces an inward gasp of delight as we get our first view of it. On Christmas Day it looked a bit bleak, a bit ‘meh’. It seemed to be saying, “oh it’s just them again – I can’t be bothered frankly.”
Fieldfare profusion
But on closer examination there was a lot to enjoy: huge groups of fieldfare (a winter thrush visitor from north-east Europe); a few chaffinch (relatively scarce nowadays in these parts) in brilliant winter plumage; loads of berries – haws, rosehips, elderberry in the main – and long-tailed tits flitting through open woodland. The profusion of berries was the attraction for the fieldfares. My regular Lullingstone kestrel did not appear, nor did the almost tame goldcrest I’ve encountered previously in Upper Beechen Wood. (Fieldfare photo: hedera.baltica/Wikimedia Commons)
Oh, that tree!
I’m often astonished at myself for not noticing things – I’ve been known to sit on sofas at home without realising they are brand new, turn on TVs that someone has just delivered and installed, and fail to remark on a room‘s entire renovation. I exaggerate, but it amazes me that I’ve walked past the extraordinary old oak at Lullingstone pictured below at least 200 times without really clocking it; a memory of it must have been lodged in my brain somewhere since childhood, but in the subliminal part. In a similar vein there’s an elegant art deco building opposite Brixton station that’s very familiar to me but it was only last week, on returning from the Ritzy, that I actually looked at it and saw it for what it was. I’ll never ignore it again, and the same goes for this incredible oak.
To be fair, there are several of these oaks at Lullingstone, mostly up towards the golf clubhouse in the west of the park (unlike this one). With some I’m not quite sure if they’re dead or alive. There’s one that you could actually hide inside. This one, which is maybe 300 years old, has a kind of elephant’s face embedded, is indicated on the map below. I’m going to try to keep eyes and brain a bit more joined up from now on. Probably means less daydreaming – let’s see!
This time last year there was snow in the North Downs; not a lot but certainly enough for bleak midwinter atmosphere, providing one of 2022’s most memorable walks: a saunter around the whole of Lullingstone (pictured below).
By contrast, this year’s winter walks have so far been muddy wet trudges in the gathering gloom. I did really enjoy Hosey Common the other week (see previous blog post) in atrocious conditions, because it reminded me of Scotland, I was with an old friend and family, and quite frankly I needed to get out – so it was great. Walking in uninspiring weather and finding pleasure is a challenge, a task that one must learn to relish, especially if one runs a walks website, which one does.
So looking back over the year none of my most recent strolls will make it into my most memorable top three and I’m gambling that my Christmas walks won’t top those this selection. An “out of town“ sortie to Hastings country park was among the best but was disqualified on obvious grounds.
This leaves my favourite walks in 2023 as:
Chiddingstone, 15 September: scorching late summer sunshine heavy with humidity; dragonflies and damsels over the River Eden; soaring buzzards, long grasses shimmering, a great pint in the Castle Inn with family. Blissful.
Fackenden Down, 26 August: old friends visiting from abroad joined us. They were more used to the chaparral of southern climes than the moist beech woods, scabious meadows and brambly hedgerows of the North Downs. They had read my piece in the Guardian about this walk and fancied a good old saunter. Iffy weather but delightful company and a lovely sesh at the Mount Vineyard and Samuel Palmer pub afterwards.
Ide Hill, 3 February: an incredible multicoloured winter evening sky and rare close-up sightings of treecreepers in mysterious Scord Wood really made it. The ram pump pond was perfectly still and there were timeless frozen views over the wintry weald to enjoy. Again, great company – an old friend joined me. We finished in darkness with a bright moon picking out the gathering mist.
Kent walks near London 