There’s a real pleasure to walking in very cold conditions and not only because you’ve bought some hot chocolate with you with a shot of rum in it. The light, the clouds, the wonder of winter and the sudden dusk all bring an edge of adventure. It’s a great time for a walk. Often the mud is hardened by frost too so you can stride without getting bogged down. We don’t often get snow in these parts but remember that if there’s a hint of the white stuff in south east London there’s a good chance there’s a lot more of it on the North Downs. So if you have children pining for snow larks, there’s always a chance that by heading to say Fackenden Down, Polhill or Knockholt you might have a bit of luck. It’s worked for me over the years. I particularly love the atmosphere of Knole in winter – the frosty hollows and rich (ish) bird life coupled with that huge medieval home that is lit so beautifully by the setting sun and from within as twilight comes on, are an essential part of my mid-winter wanders. This little cold snap will be over by tomorrow evening but there’ll be more to come.
The hot sunny weather – this September has been pronounced already as one of the hottest on record in the UK – has been good news for butterflies. The Fackenden walk is particularly good for viewing them; the first few sections after the right turn on White Hill were awash with chalkhill blues, red admirals, large whites, meadow browns and gatekeepers this week. I was particularly intrigued by the numbers of brimstones flying during my sultry stroll there last Monday. These beauties are the offspring of the butterflies that emerged from hibernation in April and May. With so many scabious and devil’s-bit scabious still flowering along with the likes of fading marjoram, valerian, wild carrot and trefoil, there is plenty of foodstuff still around. That wonderful ‘garden’ running halfway up between White Hill and Fackenden Down is great for other creatures too: it’s clearly good habitat for reptiles and birds, though I’ve never personally seen much there, not even a whitethroat, blackcap or yellowhammer this summer – just a few goldfinches (a beautiful but common bird), red kite, buzzards and green woodpeckers after the many ants on these slopes. I did spot a rapidly disappearing common lizard though, after hearing a rustle in the leaf litter. Earlier in the walk, at Austin Spring I was delighted by a view of a hobby (a smallish, fast-flying falcon) hurtling straight towards me, presumably chasing dragonflies.
I’ve taken to doing the Fackenden route the ‘wrong’ way round these days: so I take the path on the left up White Hill that culminates in the steps, then across the Dunstall Farm fields to Austin Spring and Romney Street, Magpie Bottom (also great for flowers and insects) and eventually to Fackenden Down. Either way is great, I suppose I just want to save that ‘garden’ with its kaleidoscopic haze of grasses, scabious and insects until last. (Pictured: red admiral, brimstone, red admiral, the path linking White Hill and Fackenden Down looking north, a scabious flower and, below, a male chalkhill blue.)
Walking on the path through the scabious, ragwort, marjoram, yew trees and grasses on the chalky west-facing slopes of White Hill/Fackenden Down last Saturday I spotted a wasp spider – a creature I’d never seen personally. It’s a spectacular arachnid, one that has been increasing its numbers in the south-east over the past 15 years. I guess a powerful orb weaver like this will be snaffling up drowsy late summer insects in the coming weeks. The walk itself was as beautiful as ever but quite bereft of bird life, which isn’t unusual for late August just prior to the large migrations. Only a solitary buzzard and a charm of goldfinches being of note, though we weren’t being particularly observant. Oddly, not a single swallow was noted – unlike during the walk at Cudham the following day, where a red kite was also seen. My friend Teri took the spider photos.
Late July, early August: it’s a slightly torporous time, and in most summers the countryside becomes gradually a bit tired and frazzled looking – rather like the Australian cricket team currently trying to play out the Ashes (now there’s a hostage to fortune). But this year, thanks to recent regular rain, there’s still a freshness about things. I particularly love the long grasses this year, so full of wildflowers – and such a contrast to last summer’s scorched earth. We’ve been lucky in 2023 in that respect, as other parts of Europe have literally burned. Nearly all the walks on this site feature beautiful grassy meadows at one point or another, the best being on the chalk North Downs at Downe, Shoreham (Eastern Valleys, Pluto, and Fackenden in particular, Knockholt and Cudham. Wild marjoram, wild carrot, ragwort, trefoil, knapweed, pyramidal orchids (still flowering) are among the common wildflowers all flourishing amid the grasses, creating a fetching spangle of purples, yellows, pinks, reds and creams among the greens. Anecdotally, butterflies have shown well this summer despite the mixed weather. At the moment it seems to me species such as comma, red admiral, marbled white and large white are the most commonly seen. In April and May, brimstones were a common sight, then peacock butterflies. I haven’t seen any silver fritillaries this year and hardly any orange tips or small tortoisehells, I’ve just been unlucky – others have seen them. Pictured below: red admiral butterfly, scarp view, knapweed in Chevening churchyard, a cleft in the North Downs scarp, a comma butterfly, the escarpment, a lonely path, all from Knockholt/Chevening short walk on a near-cloudless late July early evening.
The longer days give us the opportunity to walk as the shadows lengthen and temperature dips – although in the warm spell that recently ended it hardly felt as though the evenings were cooler than the afternoons. Recently, a very tranquil saunter on the path between Shoreham and Eynsford – a route we’ve neglected a bit of late (pictured) – proved a real tonic, made even more fun by keeping with the tennis and cricket on the phone. Amid a limpid sky a solo Spitfire growled over a timeless pastoral scene of river, hedgerows and fields. As we neared the hops and spectacular lavender of Castle Farm we turned round and headed back to Shoreham where a pint of Larkins awaited us at the Samuel Palmer. We felt lucky. And so close to south-east London and even more relaxing when you use the train, direct between SE London and Shoreham in just 30 mins.
It seems that financial pressures brought on by the Covid lockdown and reduced footfall in winter has led to the closure of this beautiful, historic, and challenging public course and its owner Sencio’s other leisure facilities in Sevenoaks and Edenbridge. It’s very sad news not just because I’ve enjoyed the odd round at Lullingstone for many years, but because the course is a key component of the country park; the wild grasses, woods and scrub in between fairways is highly biodiverse and is home to a decent array of flora and fauna. I should know, I’ve tentatively had to search for my ball in these wild fringes often enough. Without the course you wonder what might happen to the rest of it what with the pressure for new housing. Let’s not worry about it too much for now; Sevenoaks District Council says it is confident that a new operator can be found for the course and the other Sencio facilities so let’s hope for the best. My main Lullingstone walk starts from Eynsford station but, if you’re driving, you can park just outside the golf course entrance (presumably shut now) and do a complete 5-mile orbit of the country park.
In the meantime it’d be good if people enjoying the new freedom in the park stay off the greens; I’m sure it’s fine to cross the fairways if you want but please leave the wildlife-rich rough well alone.
River Darent
Bench, Lullingstone
Lullingstone horse chestnut in flower
Skylarks nesting and wildflowers: put dogs on the lead
Skylarks provide us with the soundtrack of the countryside in southern England as they mark out their territories from around 100ft in the air. There are quite a few of them at Lullingstone, whereas birds that used to be seen in the park such as lapwings and yellowhammers have largely disappeared. I’m a bit worried that without the golf, people and their dogs will range all over the grassy slopes and will inadvertently destroy skylark nests. The birds nest in hollow scrapes in reasonably grass between 20 and 50cm high. I noticed last Sunday that quite a few dogs were bounding around in areas they wouldn’t normally be because of the golf closure. It’d be a shame to lose the skylarks and other flora and fauna that was protected by being in “islands” of grasses and meadow in between fairways.
To mark the year’s passing I’ve picked one photo from each month looking back over the year so will hope to show the passage of the seasons. In some months I took few photos … which is why September’s picture is a bit “meh”. One photo is a complete cheat because it’s not from the walks here, but from north-west Scotland! I think my favourites are the final two of the year: Underriver view and Lullingstone in the snow, although the sharpness of that Cudham shot in remarkably clear July air does a lot for me.
I don’t rate myself as any kind of photographer, and I’m sure a true pro could do a lot better, but I do enjoy capturing an atmosphere or certain aesthetic. If others like them too, even better!
Happy Christmas to all who visit and use this website and best wishes for 2023.
A cloud layer produces a false sunset at Ide Hill, January
Downe walk, February
Flooded woods, Bough Beech, March
Bluebells in Emmetts Garden/Scord’s Wood, April 2022
View over Summer Isles from Ben Mor Coigach, near Ullapool, May.
Pyramidal orchid in the Andrews Wood-Meenfield Wood gap, June
Cudham walk, July, between point 2 and 3, the field short cut
View from Romney Street, August, Fackenden Down walk
Lullingstone park is a great place to feel the winter vibes in the North Downs, with sweeping views of the Darent valley, big skies, mists swirling down by the river and a variety of terrain: from grassy expanses to rich beech and oak woods. Some walkers in Kent on Saturday saw a double sun – a trick of the light in which the sun seems to appear twice. It’s also called a sun dog, and is a type of halo. We weren’t so lucky, but the atmosphere was superb – wispy cloud, patches of cobalt sky, a low sun and a light mist. Small flocks of linnets were feeding in scrubby fields at the start of our route, up by the golf course entrance. It was the last day of this week of snow and freezing temperatures so we wanted to make the most of it, taking a 4-mile route around the park. A very deep frost had formed on top of the snow, producing some incredible branch-like crystal structures. It was a truly memorable stroll.
What a superb walk on the Polhill route recently. Superb weather and the trees in their best autumn finery. The views across the Darent valley were at their very best with every little detail sharply visible: the church tower, the oasts, the route of the river … It was a view that would have inspired Samuel Palmer, the brilliant mystical romantic artist inspired by William Blake and Turner who roamed this locale with his equally arty mates ‘The Ancients’ in the late 1820s and early 30s. He was mainly based in a rundown cottage nicknamed Rat Abbey before joining his dad at the lovely Water House – still standing of course. Repros of his beautiful art can be seen in the Samuel Palmer pub. He fell in love with and married 19-year-old Hannah Linnell when in his early thirties while in Shoreham and went on a two-year honeymoon in Italy where his art developed further. But it’s his Shoreham works that seem to attract the most attention. Strangely, his surviving son Alfred (another son had tragically died at 19) in 1909 burned loads of his pieces after his death saying that they were a humiliation because no one could understand them, or something. Odd that.
View across Darent Valley toward Fackenden Downon Shoreham circular and Polhill walks. iphone pic
It’s interesting to reflect when gazing across these lovely pastoral valley, and at Palmer’s beautiful paintings, that all was not well in the countryside in the 1830s. Mechanisation was putting farmhands out of work leading to disturbances and the destruction of agricultural equipment, incidents collectively known as the Swing Riots. In 1830 more than a thousand protesters were transported to Australia or imprisoned while 19 people in Kent were hung for their part in the fire-setting and destruction.
Incidentally, the Samuel Palmer pub, formerly Ye Olde George, received unexpected visitors on 15 September 1940 when two very shaken pilots from a shot down German bomber were taken there for a stiff drink by the Home Guard. For some reason I had thought the pub they were taken to was the now defunct Fox and Hounds in Romney St, but the very friendly Shoreham Aircraft Museum custodian, Geoff Nutkins, tells me it was almost certainly the George. Geoff himself is an excellent artist; although what the mystic Palmer would have made of his depictions of Spitfires and Hurricanes boggles the mind.
Scenery changes rapidly at this time of year as greens meld into yellows, browns, reds and golds. So many species of tree seem to go their own way, diverging increasingly in colour until they lose their leaves. Ash turns red, birch gold, chestnuts almost yellow.
Weald view from Mariners Hill on the Hosey walk, in early autumn
Other recent walks have included Hosey Hill, Petts Wood and Cudham. Autumn colours are really becoming apparent now – it really is a great time to get out into our local countryside. Petts Wood was wonderful on Monday 17 October; what a gem that area is for a walk within suburbia.
Hawkwood Estate, Petts Wood in mid autumn. Birches along the Kyd Brook. iphone pic
The Westerham and Hosey walks are brilliant in autumn too, with huge views of the Kent Weald from Mariners Hill (near Chartwell) and a wealth of woodland, at times tangled and impenetrable and others spaced and stately.
Tower Hill, behind the infant River Darent, in early autumn 2022, on the Hosey and Westerham walks
Conditions underfoot remain pretty dry considering we’re past October’s mid-point, as rain remains an unusual event. It also continues to be very mild, thankfully, considering the energy crisis and on several walks lately I’ve felt overdressed. My next sorties will hopefully be further south, to Hever – well overdue – and then the Ashdown Forest.
A beautiful dusk walk around Chartwell and Mariners Hill on the Hosey route, accompanied by a stunning full moon and the mew of a buzzard, hit the spot last Sunday afternoon. It’s not always the early bird that catches the worm, you know. The mud just before point 8, the ‘dramatic’ crossing of the infant River Darent, is hilariously sloshy and treacherous enough to defeat any footwear bar stilts fitted with spikes but can be avoided by walking parallel in the grassy field alongside and rejoining just before the log bridge. A satisfying hose down of boots after returning home was called for.
Kent walks near London 