Day 25 – Saturday 12 August 2000 - Rochford to Southend

12 miles walked today

330.5 miles walked in total (average 13.22)

Vicky Church (B.Eng, ARGE*) and myself (BOE**) left Ashford this morning at 7.30 am and were in Rochford and ready to walk just after nine o’clock.

We didn’t have a promising start as the footpath took us into an industrial estate where we proceeded to get lost.  When we finally got out onto the right road and located the next footpath (which also led nowhere), we decided to cut our losses and keep to the roads for a while.

It wasn’t long before we found a path which took us through farmland – dried peas and brussel sprouts, followed by potatoes and the odd courgette plant.  At Little Wakering, the path led into the pub garden of the Castle Inn – very handy – where a line dancing festival was in progress.  At least, the American flags were flying and Billy Jo Spears was blaring from the speakers, but there no dancers to speak of.  Apparently, the landlord was also expecting a “bucking bronco” to be there, according to the posters, but we didn’t see him either.

After a quick drink, we carried on, on paths and roads to Great Wakering to have lunch in a shady part of a graveyard.  (According to our taxi driver later in the day, the temperature reached 31 degrees at 1.30 pm today.  We can quite believe it.)

After lunch, we were back on roads to Shoeburyness, but had to keep out of the firing range.  We did trespass a little though – just to show that rebellion doesn’t necessarily exclude walkers.

Back on roads to Southend, which was (predictably) heaving with holiday makers, hen parties and numerous weddings, judging by the amount of decorated cars we saw.  We even saw an open top bus with a wedding party on.  We had great difficulty finding somewhere to stay – one place was so awful, it didn’t bear thinking about what breakfast would involve.  It was cheap, but the landlord stank of beer and BO and even procured two men from an adjoining room for us – thanks, but no thanks.

After discussion, we got a taxi back to the car and then spent ninety minutes driving whilst ‘phoning tourist offices, Talking Pages, Directory Enquiries, guest houses and pubs in the Good Pub Guide.  We finally struck lucky at the Ferry Boat Inn at North Fambridge – where Vicky and I had lunch on a previous walking weekend.  The pub has six weatherboarded apartments at the back of the pub with the most comfortable beds I’d ever seen – really high and soft – like the Princess and the Pea!  And for exactly the same price as we were asked for in the hovel in Southend – excellent!

A very good end to quite a trying day – it’s probably been too hot to walk anyway and, despite the suncream liberally applied all day, Vicky and I have some very odd stripey suntans, thanks to walking with the sun on our left for part of the day, not to mention the rucksack straps.  How very attractive!

* All Round Good Egg ** Barbecue Organiser Extraordinaire

Day 24 – Saturday 15 July 2000 - South Woodham Ferrers to Rochford

9 miles walked today

318.5 miles walked in total (average 13.27)

I knew I shouldn’t have walked today.  I had a twinge in my left knee all yesterday that cleared up by mid afternoon.  And, when I woke up this morning (at Sam’s in Epsom), Auntie June checked teletext – showers forecast.  Then I discovered that I’d left my maps in Portsmouth.  Marvellous.

I drove to South Woodham Ferrers and the tide was too high to walk across to Hullbridge.  South Woodham Marine had suggested, when I ‘phoned in the week, that someone would probably row me across if necessary.  Despite standing around looking helpless, there were no boats in sight so I decided to cut my losses and drive round to Hullbridge.  The alternative was to walk to Battlesbridge along major roads and through a very busy building site.  Thought I’d cheat instead.  Besides, the whole distance across the river couldn’t have been more than twenty yards.

I got to Hullbridge at nine thirty and tried to walk along the sea wall, which started off very well maintained but soon petered out just past Brandy Hole Yacht Club.  I ended up walking back through private lanes to get out to the road from Hullbridge to Rochford.  The road went round in a huge circle until, at half past ten, I was back at my car.  At which point I lost my sense of humour and considered driving back to Portsmouth and giving it up as a bad job.

After a quick look at the atlas in my car, I knew I’d have to stick to roads, heading for Canewdon, Rochford, Little and Great Wakering and Southend.  In the absence of my Ordnance Survey map, footpaths would have to wait for another day.  (It’s not a great loss leaving out a chunk anyway – you can’t walk around Wallasea Island, as the path goes so far and then stops, meaning an about turn and back again.  The rest of the island, together with Foulness Island, is a “danger area”.)

The heavens opened as I got into Ashingdon so I took cover in a bus shelter and ate my lunch.  It soon cleared up so I headed off to Rochford.  It’s been all road walking, which, although quick, is very dull, especially as it’s been one residential area after another.  The sun came out and I soon dried out, although it left me steaming and generally uncomfortable.  After about half an hour, the rain came down again, just as I was passing Rochford railway station and a taxi rank.  Thought I’d better give up today – nine miles isn’t too bad anyway.  Sam text messaged my mobile ‘phone to say, “No matter how little you do.  It will all help towards your goal”.  That really cheered me up – not so disastrous a day after all.

(Today is St Swithin’s Day – so, if it rains today, it will rain for forty days.  Looks like we’re in for a rubbish summer then!)

THE DIARY OF VICKY C - SATURDAY 8 AND SUNDAY 9 JULY 2000

Following weeks of dedicated training, a specially formulated diet and general abstinence from all things that are known to be unhealthy, 8 July dawned.  Not so much startling sunshine as general failure to commit on the part of the weather, meant that wet weather gear and suntan lotion as well as emergency rations were packed.  Under the leadership of Miss Long, Susan and I set off from Ashford (Middlesex) bound for Bradwell (Essex) – in a car.  We left, on schedule (almost), at 0700 hours and arrived at St Peter’s Chapel just after 0900.

We both jumped out of the car full of enthusiasm and didn’t yawn once as we prepared ourselves for a day’s strenuous walking (sorry, gentle strolling).  We had a quick look round St Peter’s Chapel, which I could quite understand being mistaken for a barn, and headed off to the sea wall, which we eventually located next to a vast expanse of mud and under about three feet of overgrowth.  Susan helpfully informed me that there are four hundred miles of sea wall in Essex, but that we didn’t have to walk them all that day as “we must leave some for tomorrow”; such a sensible girl.  We headed off towards Burnham-on-Crouch leaving Bradwell Power Station humming not so quietly behind us.  The weather was mild although the sky did look potentially threatening.  So we headed south, and then west and then south a bit more, followed by a small amount of easterly direction then a bit more southerly.  This, I hasten to add, was not due to our navigational skills (which are, by the way, outstanding), but more to do with the marshes, mudflats and general meandering of the sea wall.  No wonder there’s four hundred miles of it.

There weren’t many other walkers (apart from a group who could well have escaped from the local asylum), but we did see plenty of wildlife.  Experienced safari-goers as we both are, the adder I nearly trod on and the partridge and other birdlife (I can’t tell an oyster catcher from a whelk) we disturbed were much appreciated, although we were a little slow in taking advantage of these photo opportunities.  (Susan’s camera also makes so much noise, that each time she turned it on, another flock of probably very rare lesser spotted winged creatures were terrified into flight.)

We came across several unidentified concrete structures which we narrowed down to either being military defence or the world’s largest concrete nesting boxes; either way, they’re birdhouses now.  After seven hours’ gentle strolling with a few sit downs covering a grand total of 13.5 miles (that’s 21.6km in case she doesn’t finish the walk before Great Britain “goes metric”), we ambled into Burnham-on-Crouch.  We found our accommodation “Ye Olde White Harte Hotel” right on the quay side.  Purely by chance this also featured in the Good Pub Guide, so we did feel obliged to partake of a swift half (of vodka – don’t believe Susan when she tells you that she doesn’t have the energy or the inclination to go out drinking at the end of the day, it’s just not true!).

We collected the car from Bradwell and, after a much needed shower and a walk (yes, more walking) around Burnham, we had something to eat.  I eventually managed to drag Susan out of The Star at about 9.30 pm and we staggered back to the pub (I mean meagre accommodation).

Sunday did not look promising from a weather point of view, it was quite windy, but luckily the rain managed to wait until later in the day.   We walked west out of Burnham towards South Woodham Ferrers along the sea wall.  There were plenty of boats out and the path was much more well trodden and didn’t meander quite so much as the day before.  We made quite good time and Susan managed to control her “fear of cows”, which she assures me is a medical condition and not to be laughed at, as we strolled past some cattle which actually turned and fled as we approached.  Not that I took this personally, it’s a well known fact that two lone women wandering about on a Sunday morning can be a terrifying sight for even the most confident of livestock.

Due to precision timing that the military would be proud of, we arrived at the Ferry Boat Inn in North Fambridge at lunch time.  I managed to persuade Susan that perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea to drink the bar dry before we continued and we just had a quick drink before it started to rain.  That was the end of the sea wall walking and we walked through the village on the lanes, eventually coming out on the main road heading into South Woodham Ferrers.  By this time, it was well and truly raining, although our naturally sunny dispositions remained intact.  It was roads all the way to the end, and I must say I prefer the random approach of the sea wall as opposed to the roundabouts of South Woodham Ferrers.  Eventually we reached the end of the road (quite literally) where we tried to formulate a plan to get Susan over the river without going further upstream or using mechanical means.  I think hijacking a rowing boat is probably the way to go, perhaps under cover of darkness for added effect.

All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed the weekend and was very proud to inform my mother that we had covered a total of twenty-six miles.  She didn’t believe me of course, but that’s quite understandable as I’m not generally renowned for my activeness.  Although I cannot divulge the details of matters discussed during the stroll, I do feel that my life is now somewhat better planned, although there are some parties that really do need to be informed of their involvement.  Principally, the person who is going to donate vast sums of money to my worthy cause, my parents have considerable responsibilities and there’s a one other that really should be located at the earliest convenience.  And, no, I’m not telling you what his function is.

Day 23 – Sunday 9 July 2000 - Burnham-on-Crouch to South Woodham Ferrers

12.5 miles walked today

309.5 miles walked in total (average 13.45)

We left the B&B this morning at 9.30 am to start walking along the quay before getting onto the sea wall.  Burnham is a very well kept town and has lots of obviously new houses along the front, although they’re built in keeping with the older properties.

Heading towards Burnham Marina, there are three or four houseboats lined up.  The bottoms are made of concrete and they look like they’ve had weather boarded portacabins plonked on top of them.  One of these houses was called “Mulberry” and we decided that the bottoms were actually old Mulberry harbours used in the second world war.  The boathouses had all mod cons, including door bells and rotary dryers!

Past the marina, we were back on sea wall again – past some fantastic houses with little paths leading down to the shore and, in some cases, their own pontoons.  There were lots of boats out today, with spinnakers in all colours of the rainbow.

Some of the walking was tricky, not least because of cows.  Vicky, having grown up in a family of farmers, really couldn’t understand my unwillingness to walk past them.  Apparently, all you have to do is flap your arms about and mutter “psh, psh” at them and they’ll go away.  Luckily, I didn’t get to try this manoeuvre out.  We had quite a discussion actually about cows and the possible consequences if they caught you – as they’re vegetarian, there’s no way they’re going to eat you; they might knock you over if they run at you.  But they’re more likely to be scared than you.  Very reassuring, I don’t think.

We made it into North Fambridge just about lunch time – the Ferry Boat Inn is supposed to be haunted by an old ferryman.  There was no way a ghost was going to compete with all the noisy children there today though.

From North Fambridge, we were on roads to South Woodham Ferrers – it started to rain quite heavily, but we kept our spirits up by planning Vicky’s life for her and the financial killing she’s going to make by ripping off her parents.  I can’t really say any more than that, as she hasn’t actually told them yet!

South Woodham Ferrers is rather too perfect for my liking – everything’s laid out properly and the place doesn’t really have any character.  We zipped through it fairly quickly – or as quickly as our achey legs could carry us – to the Marsh Farm Country Park, down by the quay.  There was a tricky little marking on the Ordnance Survey map which made us think we could get across the Crouch to Hullbridge.  However, when we got there, it was very obvious we weren’t going to get across – bugger!  This major disappointment called for a sit down in the rain and a huge bar of chocolate for consolation.

(On getting home and checking the John Merrill Bible of Walking the British Coast, he mentions that there is a place where you can ford the river – so I haven’t given up all hope yet.)

It’s been a fantastic weekend – it’s great to have someone to share it with and it makes the day go quicker too! 

Day 22 – Saturday 8 July 2000 - Bradwell to Burnham-on-Crouch

13.5 miles walked today

297 miles walked in total (average 13.5)

Vicky and I left Ashford just after seven o’clock this morning and were parked and booted, ready to walk at nine fifteen.

The first stretch took us past St Peter’s Chapel, or St Peter’s-on-the-Wall, to give it its correct name.  According to the guide book, it was built in about AD 654 by St Cedd, a missionary from Northumbria.  It’s built on the site of the main gateway of Othona, which was abandoned by the Romans in 410.  It’s still used by the Othona Community, a group of people living nearby who live and work for themselves, but are not necessarily religious.  On the first Saturday every July, a pilgrimage is made to the chapel – attracting up to two thousand people on the one and a half mile walk from Bradwell on Sea.

From the chapel, we should have turned right along the wall, but had a slight detour back towards the power station before realising the mistake and heading back the right way.

Past the Bradwell observatory, a birdwatching reserve, the path became very overgrown and, fairly soon, Vicky spotted either a short snake or a long slug!  We spent a lot of time tacking up and down the sea wall to find the least overgrown path.  Usually, the field at the bottom won!

We had lots of sit downs today, which I always enjoy.  And we had lunch at the Grange outfall, although we weren’t sure it was the most hygienic place to sit and eat!

We had a stretch along the wall proper – concrete at last! – and looked out over Dengie Flats where the tide goes out for two miles.  Vicky was on a mission to find out how squidgy the mud was – it looked hard baked from the wall, so Vicky went to explore.  Apparently, it’s very like clay – grey and sticky, possibly consisting of some element of tar.  And also full of snails.

We’ve seen a lot of wildlife today – seagulls, partridge, geese, oyster catchers, llamas (!) and an adder.  The snakes like to lay on the sea wall, sunning themselves and will only attack if surprised.  If they hear you coming, they’ll ignore you.  It couldn’t possibly not hear Vicky and I marching through the undergrowth though!  We watched it for a few seconds before it uncurled itself and slid off into the grass.  I decided at this point that it was probably not a good idea to be wearing my shorts!

There were lots of odd structures as part of the wall – they looked like short squat Martello towers – possibly for military defences.  Vicky, being an engineer type, decided to lower herself head first into one of these – to see what was going on.  They appear to be full of nesting birds.  One of the structures we saw, which we took to be a bird hide, looked very like a space rocket!

The rain started to come down as we walked into Burnham-on-Crouch – our B&B was on the quay and we had already ascertained that it was in Vicky’s Good Pub Guide.  The Olde White Harte was obviously a good choice.

Day 21 – Saturday 24 June 2000 - Maldon to Bradwell

16 miles walked today

283.5 miles walked in total (average 13.5)

I was up and out of the house by quarter to six this morning, trying not to wake Shiriin and Vicky in the process – I failed.  As I got to the front door, I found a parcel on the floor addressed to me – a couple of slices of home made cake for my packed lunch – thanks Vicky!

I made good time driving to Maldon, although my plans were thrown in to disarray when I got there.  I’d planned to stay at Burnham on Crouch tonight as there is a lack of B&Bs on today’s route.  However, Maldon was holding a historical street fair today and the high street would be closed to traffic between three this afternoon and ten tonight.  I’d have to find somewhere to park, from where I could easily retrieve the car.  When this proved impossible, I found a B&B (with parking) in Maldon – I’ll just have to go to the fair!

It’s been very cold and grey – fleece and long trousers weather.  I couldn’t have worn my shorts much today anyway – some of the paths have been so overgrown that my legs would have been shredded to bits.

As soon as I got out of Maldon, I saw a National Trust sign for Northey Island, which is joined by a causeway to the mainland.  To visit the island, you have to give twenty-four hours’ notice to the Warden so a time can be arranged when the causeway wouldn’t be flooded and a tour can be organised with minimum disruption to the wildlife.

The path hugged the creeks all morning and I seemed to have been walking a long time without really making much progress.  Maylandsea was a very frustrating place to reach – I saw it for an hour and a half before I could get there.  I stopped at the Mayland Mill pub at lunchtime for a drink and to plan the rest of the day’s walk.  Back to road walking again!

The roads have, again, been very windy and I’ve had to tack back and forth across the road to face/ avoid being hit by oncoming traffic.  I was very relieved to see Bradwell Waterside – it’s been quite hard work again.  Not least because I’m so sleepy and have had to do without the obligatory sit downs – for fear of falling asleep for a few hours!

My taxi driver – who could talk for England – waxed lyrical about Tony Benn (who lives here), the Labour party in general, the cost of petrol, badgers, walking and Bradwell Power Station.  The power station is due to be decommissioned in two years and, apparently, Essex is overrun with engineers who are deliberating how to concrete it all over! 

He also gave me his card and told me that, if I have trouble getting a B&B in Burnham, I should give him a call as his friends have accommodation to let.  What a prince!

Day 20 – Sunday 11 June 2000 - West Mersea to Maldon

13 miles walked today

267.5 miles walked in total (average 13.37)

I slept very well last night and nearly slept through the alarm.  After breakfast with Margaret and Jack from Yorkshire – Margaret a non walker, Jack a champion of the Three Peaks – I set off walking at nine thirty.  The water on The Strood was quite high, but, luckily, not high enough that I couldn’t cross.  Apparently, so Margaret told me, the island is cut off at high tide about four times a month.

Again, all road walking today – not because of the red flags flying, but because I couldn’t find any footpaths going in the direction I needed.

I walked through some pretty little villages – Little Wigborough, Great Wigborough and Salcott-cum-Virley where I stopped at a tea room in the middle of nowhere for a drink.

After a short rest, I carried on towards Maldon – I made very good time and was in another village – Tolleshunt D’Arcy – by midday.  I cracked onto Goldhanger and had a quick sit down before the last stretch.

Road walking is much quicker than footpath walking, but it’s harder going on the knees.  On footpaths, provided they’re on grass and not on sun baked mud, there’s a bit more bounce and less jolting on the knees and balls of the feet.

I always forget how sleepy I get when I’m walking – all this fresh air and exercise!  I could quite easily have laid down and had a nap.

It’s been very warm again and the roads have been very winding.  Consequently, I’ve had to keep stop/ starting as traffic has been quite heavy.

I stopped at Heybridge at the Mill Beach pub for a quick drink – Maldon seemed so near, yet so far!  From the pub, I was on sea wall and tow path along the Heybridge Basin to Maldon.  I got chatting to a couple who met John Merrill when he did the coastal walk twenty years ago.  He stayed at their camp site at Bradwell.  I’ve read his book a number of times for inspiration.  Unfortunately, I still haven’t found it as he didn’t actually look at anything – he just walked.  The chap I talked to is a cyclist and is just about to embark on the Thames cycle route.  Good luck to him!

I was looking forward to Maldon – I’d heard lots of good things about it.  Unfortunately, no-one had told me I had to walk up a bloody great hill to get there!  Still, it was worth it just to see all the Thames barges or “stackies” moored up on the Hythe Quay.  The boat “Reminder” is sailing from Maldon to London in July – it will take four days and costs £195 per crew member.  It looks like a real adventure – if a bit slow!

I can’t believe Maldon doesn’t sell postcards on a Sunday!

  

Day 19 – Saturday 10 June 2000 - Colchester to West Mersea

14 miles walked today

254.5 miles walked in total (average 13.39)

I left from Sam’s in Epsom this morning at seven thirty and was walking at ten o’clock.  It started off cloudy, but very warm and with no wind.  Once the cloud cleared away, it was glorious.

I had a promising start at Rowhedge – walking through a park and a cemetery.  However, after that, it was all road walking as the red flags have been flying and the sound of gun fire accompanied me all morning.  No footpaths until East Mersea.

The village of Fingringhoe has lots of small cottages nestling in amongst some huge mansions.  The smells have been wonderful – honeysuckle in the hedgerows and roses at the doors.  It seems that everyone has been busy in their gardens.

I was very disappointed at Langenhoe to find the pub shut so, instead, I pushed on to Peldon and had a drink at the Rose.  This is in the running for best pub of the walk so far – there’s a pond in the garden which accommodates water voles, there’s bits of shady seating outside, the front is covered in roses – obviously – and there’s lots of little nooks and crannies, low ceilings and uneven floors inside.  I wonder how I go about getting a job for the Good Pub Guide?

Mersea Island reminds me a lot of Hayling Island – lots of greenery, lots of horses and some of the biggest houses I’ve ever seen!  There’s obviously some money knocking about up here.  Instead of a bridge though, you cross to the island over a causeway which cuts the island off occasionally at high tide.  

Some workmen were laying tarmac on the main road of the island – in fact, the only road to East Mersea.  They turned out to be comedians too – they stopped the traffic for me and told me to get a move on as I was passing, but warned me not to walk in their workmanship as they’d be very offended!

The Dog and Pheasant were holding a tug of war competition today, but I was there half an hour early.  I wanted to push on – I didn’t especially want to spend my Saturday afternoon in the pub.  I could do that at home – and frequently do!

I had a sit down at Cudmore Grove Country Park overlooking Brightlingsea.  The weather was gorgeous – lots of people about.  Sadly, my swimsuit and towel were in my big rucksack in the car at Colchester and all I had in my small pack on my back were waterproofs, gloves and hat.  Gggrrr!

After an unplanned snooze in the country park, I walked back on the road until I could get to the public footpath along the shore to West Mersea.  At a distance, I watched maybe a dozen Thames barges racing – it’s at times like this that I wish I had a better camera.

It didn’t take me long to find my B&B, which I’d already booked.  It was great and I was very envious of the garden!  Sadly, the rest of West Mersea didn’t really measure up.  The pub was rubbish and the fish and chip shop served up the food on paper plates with plastic knives and forks.

I’ve really enjoyed walking today – I’m back in my old faithful boots.  They’re over eight years old, but feel like slippers.  After the Easter disasters, Dad said I moan far too much in my diary and people wouldn’t want to read that.

Well, Dad … today I love walking! 

Day 18 – Tuesday 25 April 2000 - Brightlingsea to Colchester

8.5 miles walked today

240.5 miles walked in total (average 13.36)

I was walking at nine o’clock today, after spending breakfast time chatting to a Scottish couple, Victor and Sheila, about walking, computers and Pokemon!  They are visiting grandchildren in Clacton and have been introduced big time to the new children’s craze while staying down here.  Victor is a very keen walker, but Sheila isn’t – so Victor and I exchanged notes for a while.  He’s quite like me in that he doesn’t believe in being pressurised to walk, but that it should be easy and enjoyable.

It’s very difficult to remember this though when your feet are killing you and you have to dash to the toilet regularly with little or no notice.

An American couple staying at the B&B didn’t understand the concept of walking at all and offered me a lift!  This I politely declined.

It’s been very breezy and cloudy today – it rained during the night, although I didn’t hear it.  I had all my clothes on again today, including the fleece.  The boots, however, are still in my bag.  Soon after I started walking, Pitty, the old boy from yesterday, passed me in his car and stopped to check that everything had been OK.  What a star!

I was fairly soon on footpaths out of Brightlingsea and followed Alresford Creek past an old mill and a conservation area (Site of Special Scientific Interest).  There weren’t too many people out today – I guess they’re all back at work after the Easter break.

I followed a dismantled railway to Wivenhoe – it seemed to be a very popular path, judging by the footprints, cycle tracks and amount of litter.

Wivenhoe’s a pretty little place with the houses along the front having their own moorings.  Just past Wivenhoe station, the path becomes part of the National Cycle Network from Hull to Harwich and there’s a very odd looking totem pole which the Royal Bank of Scotland have erected as one of a thousand mileposts.  It informed me I was four miles from Colchester.

Unfortunately, I had to very quickly backtrack to the loos at the station as my stomach was calling again.  I’m not enjoying the constant calls of nature, but I am enjoying the fact that my trousers now feel quite loose!

I was feeling seriously fed up as I walked into Colchester – possibly the only person to enter the town crying – I really wasn’t enjoying it any more and wanted a rest.  Colchester was to be my destination for the day.  I followed the signs for the Tourist Information Office, but found a B&B before I got there.

I’m going to stay in Colchester a couple of nights so that I can have a chance to explore and rest my feet.  And, because of the state of my heels, I even plan to buy some flipflops!

(In four days, I’ve walked fifty miles around the edge, but ended up only nine miles from where I started at Manningtree!  Unfortunately, my foot is still bleeding after three days, so I’ve given up for a while to try and let it recover.  At least I won’t have to go and get the lumps cut out now – my walking boots seem to have done for them already!) 

Day 17 – Monday 24 April 2000 – Easter Monday - Walton on the Naze to Brightlingsea

16.5 miles walked today

232 miles walked in total (average 13.64)

I started walking at 9.30 am after a huge breakfast, most of which I left.  I still have a dodgy stomach unfortunately.  Because of the state of my feet, I’ve carried my boots and walked in trainers all day. I also left the trousers and long johns off and walked in my shorts instead.  It just means my bag is heavier, but I’m more comfortable.

The first stretch was along the sea wall to Frinton, which I wasn’t prepared to like – it’s the only town in England with no pub!  However, I took an instant liking to the place – it looks like a very well cared for town.  The beaches were incredibly sandy and there were even horses having a paddle.  I followed the greensward back to the sea wall, which I followed all the way to Clacton.

It’s been easier walking as it’s been so breezy.  That hasn’t deterred anyone from swimming though.  The wall went along the back of a golf course and country park and there were lots of people about.

I got quite excited as soon as I spotted Clacton pier!  There were lots of yachts out and I had a rest sitting by Gunfleet Sailing Club on the front, watching the boats being winched up the beach.  (I should perhaps mention Pippa from work, our resident yachtswoman.  Pippa very kindly made me ten flapjacks – one for every day of the walk – simply so she’d get a namecheck every day.  However, my rucksack was so full, that I offloaded the flapjacks in Coulsdon at Sheila and Alan’s before I even started.  Sorry Pippa!)

I had a very quick flit around Clacton – to find a cashpoint and to get some lunch – a sensible walker’s diet of strawberry milkshake and caramel sundae from McDonalds!  Clacton was quite scary – I’m used to peace and quiet while walking and found the hustle and bustle quite difficult to cope with.  I must say that Clacton does have some lovely gardens though!

I continued on the sea wall to Jaywick – another scary place.  We came here on holiday when I was very small – all I can really remember is Mum having to go and buy some disinfectant when we arrived as our holiday home was so filthy.  I couldn’t remember if Rat had been born – sorry Rat! – but Mum confirmed that he sat on the front in his pushchair, alongside Nan in her wheelchair, while Amanda and I played on the beach.

It’s very like a shanty town – there was a big market going on and there were some very enterprising home owners who had all their old tat out on show in the gardens for sale.

I walked along the wall to Seawick – another nightmare place.  There were hundreds of caravans and a karaoke machine set up on the green – not my idea of a fun holiday, I’m afraid.

The sea wall finished at Seawick, so I was back on roads until St Osyth – I got to the Red Lion pub to find the priory is in new ownership and closed to the public.  Gggrrr!

I followed the road to Hollybush Hill and took a public footpath to Brightlingsea.  This entailed a sharpish march through a field of cows – uh oh!  I’m quite scared of cows actually and when I walked the Cornish coast path with Sam a few years ago, the only time I was in the lead was when I was sprinting through the cow fields ahead of her!

I get a second wind usually when I get near to my destination for the day and, as I leaped over my final stile, I called out to an old boy in his garden.  He demanded to know what I was doing and, when I explained I’d walked from Walton and was looking for accommodation, he found me a chair from his garage, made me sit in the sun in his garden and went to ring a friend who owns a B&B.  I’m always astounded when people are so kind.

The B&B was excellent and I had a scalding hot shower before attending to my feet – which are now blistered on the bottom too!  I also had a shivery five minutes – sunstroke perhaps?  Maybe I should start wearing the hat, instead of carrying it!

I had a mooch around Brightlingsea tonight – there’s an absolutely beautiful Thames barge on the quay.  What a fantastic end to a good day.  Or so I thought …

In the Yachtsman’s Arms, I got talking to a couple and the landlord about what I’ve been up to this week.  I asked the landlord for the number of a taxi firm as I didn’t fancy walking uphill in the dark – the B&B was over a mile away.  The couple said they’d give me a lift – apparently they lived two doors away from where I was staying.  People are so generous.

They all had a good laugh about the way I’d got the B&B in the first place.  Apparently Pitty, the old boy who got me the accommodation, can be a right old b*st*rd when he wants to be according to the landlord.  I think I’ve seen a side of him that his neighbours never have! 

Day 16 – Sunday 23 April 2000 – Easter Day - Harwich to Walton on the Naze

13.5 miles walked today

215.5 miles walked in total (average 13.46)

I had an earlyish start – I left the hotel just before nine, but had only gone a couple of hundred yards before nine thirty.  I stopped to chat to an elderly lady and her dog, Tess, who were having an early morning stroll.  She’d lived in Harwich all her life and gave me a brief history of the town.  I met her as I was taking photos of the two disused lighthouses built on stilts in 1863, but replaced by buoys in 1917. 

As we talked, we saw lots of ships in and out and heard their sirens of greeting.  A Stena catamaran came in to dock and my informant pointed out that, as it’s so huge, its wash once knocked some people off the sea wall into the sea.  Stena have since had to pay a rather large fine.

Also visible at sea is Sealand Fort – an eccentric old boy had bought this and started printing his own passports, money and stamps.  When rogue yachtsmen got too near the fort, he’d let rip with a rifle – charming!  However, some very unscrupulous types were using his address on letterheads to form companies who were laundering dodgy money.  I think, at this point, his dream fell apart.

I began on footpaths to Little Oakley where I stopped to write some cards and soak up some sun.  A chap who lived near the post office informed me that it had taken him six hours to walk to Walton on the Naze – on roads, with no pack.  I started to panic again.

While writing my cards, a dotty old woman came up and demanded to know what I was doing.  She and her husband have just walked the South West Coast Path and are off to do the Cleveland Way in a fortnight.

From Little Oakley, I followed a bridlepath and discovered at the end that I’d trespassed and that I could have been prosecuted under the Explosives Act.  I’d certainly have exploded if they’d sent me back the way I’d come.  I hate walking.

I didn’t have to stay on roads for long before I was back on footpaths to Beaumont Quay which is now derelict.  It’s built of stone taken from the Old London Bridge in 1200, but was demolished in 1831.

A little way on from the quay, I found another bench with views to Harwich – another sit down which, I have to say, is the best bit about walking.

I was back on roads to Kirby-le-Soken and the Red Lion pub.  It started to get quite cool at this point, but not cold enough for the fleece.

I came into Walton on the Naze and found a brilliant B&B opposite the pier – a double room for the cost of a single.

After a shower, I checked my feet – unfortunately both the bunions (or whatever they were) have burst into my socks – nice!  I tried my trainers on and they didn’t come up as high as the blistery things, so I managed to walk another couple of miles out to the Naze.  It’s amazing how much more I enjoy walking without a rucksack!

As I walked along the seafront, I joined a crowd watching two fencers in all their gear on the beach.  No-one seemed very surprised at this display.

I had a walk around town to find a cashpoint – I seemed to be a victim of Barclays Bank who have just shut the only bank in the village.  Luckily, I just about had enough money for my B&B and a lasagne in the Victory pub.  Oh, and a beer of course!

It would appear that Walton on the Naze are having a firework display tonight off the pier, the second longest pier in England.  I’d like to think it’s in my honour, but who am I kidding?!  Actually, I really like Walton – it reminds me a lot of Hastings.  There are some really pretty little lanes and the beach is fantastic – miles of sand.  I feel quite virtuous that I’ve taken the time to explore.

(Sam ‘phoned to say that she had watched Jack Dee on television and he’d said the only people who celebrate St George’s Day – today – are people in Essex.  I know it’s a joke, but the fireworks confirmed it!)