I leave my accommodation to explore the surrounding countryside.
As I make my way uphill, I immediately come across bamboo in a local garden.
Bamboo grows in many parts of China and I practice Chinese medicine so I have an affinity with it.
A wonderful range of trees awaits me on this walk: oak and the resounding pop of acorns under foot; they make a lower note than the beech nuts which have more of a scrunch when I walk across them.
Not far on I find a cross reminding me of my Spanish caminos.
Oh the Autumn colours please me! As this is farmland, there are sheep, and further along the way, horses too.
With a lot of space to wander and feed. They aren’t fazed by me at all.
One matching chestnut, one dappled grey and one white. I wonder again, do horses (and cows) communicate with each other? Do they vary their behaviour at different times of the day? ‘It’s getting dark guys, let’s have one more meal and then lie down for the night!’
Here are the wide open arable fields where huge spreaders are spraying (just like Kent!). There are almost no flowers or birds as a result of the chemicals. These are recently sown and ploughed fields.
I follow the sign posts and there are also familiar neon arrows at ground level to keep me right – pointers for a run or cross-country cycling no doubt.
I remember the red and white stripes of the French walks I made in Normandy, but as always the entrances and exits for walkers are unusual.
This one was a sort of turnstile of oxydised metal.
I tread quietly. Once I enter the woods, the leaves are falling randomly around me and there is a sweet autumnal leafy smell.
Saw-edged sweet chestnut leaves litter the way, bronze and tan.
Ash and sycamore, acorns in cups, chestnuts in their prickly cases.
There are no fuchsias here like in Ireland, the hedgerows are instead bountiful with clematis, their furry seed heads studded with dark brown cores.
A tweet here and there; a rustling up high; and chirp chirp as a bird darts past.
I pick my way over sandy white soil, and admire the whispy grasses.
Laden with ruddy apples, on a carpet of windfalls.
Downhill, past domestic vines, beehives and allotments with bright flowers, I discover Saint Thomas.
The mairie, town hall
Village church
Ceramic flowers on a grave
By the end of the day, the effects of the sun as she brightens the wall and path shining low now behind a telegraph pole or street light so a shadow is thrown.
I am in Champagne country, in Picardy. I took the train from Reims.
The driver waited patiently
The countryside looked amazing through the train window – flat, on into the distance, great expanses of single colours.
I visited the Artisan Baker and then left my rucksack under a tree as the Intermarché was in the opposite direction and I was tired.
I set off with the additional weight of shopping (root veg and cheese) and the first place of note I passed was the library – so surprising to see one in this small but well resourced village. The three women greeted me effusively and showed me around, asking me questions, instructing me on how to use it and proudly showing their collection of English books. Marie T was just leaving, she said, and offered me a most welcome lift, telling me her incredibly sad personal family ‘death’ story on the way. She said that volunteering at the library had been her lifeline and now she was living again.
The local church
I am staying in a old convent (where nuns are or were is always a good place for me). It was used as a prison and a hospital in the past by the Americans and the Gestapo so it has a chequered history.
The walled garden is by far the best bit
18th October 2018
In need of redecoration but charming and clean
Early the first morning, the cockerel (that’s him above, all white and fluffy) asks us why we are not outside yet. He is right, it is a gloriously sunny morning. I found a spot between four silver birch trees for t’ai Chi (below).
Later I was greeted by Johnny the gardener and able to keep practicing my French. Everyone is really friendly including Buddha the cat (below)
The peahen and her mate aren’t shy
They hoot in the courtyard and neck in public!
The hives are not producing honey, but they have a local source.
I walk up the spiral path to a pool of sunshine, sit and soak it up, and start my writing (the publishers have asked for the first chapter and other info).
Oak trees make me feel at home (above and below)
L from New Zealand crouches in a grotto – he makes art as well as shelves – the latter are his contribution to the community.
Avoiding the wasps delightedly supping
I move as the sun goes behind trees, finding new spots.
Collecting windfalls – brown, yellow and red; prising walnuts from their damp black coats; snapping hazel shells for a breakfast from the garden.
Someone has made apple cake and roasted some chestnuts which I add to my banquet.
We drink tea and eat homemade cakes during the English conversation group that evening. I learn about some of the local people, their jobs, travels and families, and we have a laugh.
One and a half hours from Paris Nation by Bla Bla Car, Reims is in champagne country. Not far from the Belgian border, it is just north of the Wildlife Parc Naturel Régional de la Montagne de Reims, west of Metz and south of Lille.
Reims train station
I visited for part of a day and there is undoubtedly more to see. Julie, my driver, deposited me at the Gare / station (there are 2 entrances) and as we bade each other goodbye she kindly invited me to stay with her in a week’s time – she is a couch surfing host.
Very smart looking trams stop here too
Opposite the front of the station is a park, Square Colbert, which was completely closed for landscaping, and beyond that, along the Boulevard du Général Leclerc, are the posh hotels. At right angles is Place Drouet d’Erlon, along which you will find eating places galore.
And the magnificent Fontaine Subé, statue and fountain
I unfortunately chose poorly (I wanted a place in the sun and a chèvre / goats cheese salad). I do not recommend Café Le Gaulois – the food was very poor quality and over priced.
However, I did enjoy my kir!
The Catholic Église Saint-Jacques (Church of the patron Saint of the caminos (walking pathways, les chemins) in Spain (the one who gave Santiago de Compostella its name).
A beautifully simple façade
I found the Musée des Beaux-Arts quite by chance.
The black figurative sculptures look like shadows along the wall, Musée des Beaux-Arts, Reims
This is the garden a the back of the Musée des Beaux-Arts
The next stop had to be the cathedral, stunning against the blue sky.
Wonderful Gothic architecture of the Notre Dame de Reims cathedral. The place where 30 Kings of France were crowned.
Outer detail – angels
And inside, two of the spectacular stained glass windows, cathedral, Reims
The Basilica Saint Rémi is well worth seeing. This plaque is on the ground of the cathedral
Round the side of the cathedral the Carnegie Library can be found.
Art Déco entrance to the Carnegie Library
Foyer light, Carnegie Library, Reims
Detail – tiles showing a patient having his back examined, Carnegie Library, Reims
Window of the Reading Room showing books, Carnegie Library, Reims
I passed the Opéra, the opera house on my way back to the station.
The Opéra is also an example of Art Déco design
The Opéra seen from the front with Tragédie and Comédie at either end, and famous French composers inbetween
Someone has put up a bunch of dried flowers in memory of the ‘Martyrs of the French Resistance’
Grass is grown between the tramways – a good idea for Edinburgh?
I saw this on the window of the Tourist Information as well as here, at the door of the station, Reims
Bla Bla Car car sharing website – more ecological and cheaper than public transport – takes a bit of getting used to, but a great way to meet people
Couch surfing a worldwide website for people who offer a bed or couch to travellers. No money changes hands, but you are expected to offer something – to cook a meal or, in my case, give a Shiatsu.
Tip: Mary of Guise, mother of Mary Queen of Scots is buried at the Convent of Saint Pierre les Dames in Reims
October 10 2018: Kent – parts of the Greensand Way and Medway Valley Walk.
A host of walks around the Garden of England, Kent
Distance: 6 miles / 9. 66 kms
Duration: 2.5 – 3 hours
Weather: glorious throughout
Green fields and the Downs in the distance, Kent
Stiles crossed: numerous
Railways crossed: 2
Boats sailing past: 3 yachts, 2 dinghies with outboard motors chugging away and 3 canoes
Churches: St Mary the Virgin, Nettlestead
Grand country houses : 2 – Roydon Hall and Nettlestead Manor
The River Medway, busy with water traffic, Kent
I started walking across the Lees in Yalding around 9.30 am after a starry night and a misty morning.
Crossing The Lees, Yalding, KentOver a tributary of the River Medway, Yalding, Kent
The Lees, a low-lying meadow, flood regularly caused by two rivers joining the Medway here – the Teise and Beult. Indeed my father once crossed the submerged road thinking he would be fine and became stranded, having to leave his car and wade back.
Hampstead Weir Bridge, Yalding, Kent
On a day like today, the water looked beautiful, producing stunning reflections on its smooth surface.
Hampstead Weir Bridge, Yalding, KentWhere Hampstead Lane crosses the River Medway, Yalding, Kent
After some confusion caused by my thinking that the locks beside Teapot Island were the ones mentioned in the leaflet (details below), I set off along the pavement towards Yalding Station from where I walked a few days before using my phone torch in the pitch dark. With the canal on my left and the incongruous new wooden houses appearing upside down under the bridge, it was only a short way to the Marina and Hampstead Lock.
River Medway, the B2162, Kent
Skirting past the new building, I took the left fork and crossed the first railway line. Then a series of fields and woods, easily found for the most part.
Camomile growing at ground level, and at the edge of a field were delicious windfall pears.
There was a path which is accessed beside a sweet cottage and that is hard to find but a kind woman noticed my confusion and pointed it out.
Walk to the left of this white cottage even though it looks as if you will go into its garden. If you are lucky, you too will enjoy the roses poking over the fence and the geese in the field beyond.Crossing the railway near Yalding Station, KentThe walk takes us over the middle of a ploughed field, dry from the lack of rain and dangerously close to farmers spraying chemicals, KentSome sort of brassica had dew drops glistening on its leaves
The low point of the walk came when the leaflet directed me to cross straight through the middle of a huge field. It looked pretty but there was no obvious path as before and I spied a large red farm vehicle in the far corner, so I decided to skirt instead, through the long, wet grass. To my utter dismay the farmer was spraying green chemicals and went as close by me as he could without actually running me over. There was no way to avoid it and the smell hung in my nostrils for the next hour. (I arrived home with a most unusual headache and had to go to sleep. On waking I searched the Internet, discovering what they were and how harmful they can be up close. I showered and am hoping for the best).
Traditional farming country, kent
The noxious fumes abated temporarily as I made my way through the welcome cool woods, away from the acrid smell I thought, to the altogether sweeter scent of chestnuts. The fences made me wonder what they were protecting and brought to mind the small trucks I came across in the Austrian mountains where single men collected wood. There was no sun except in dapples and a grey squirrel leapt across the path. I could still hear the warning parp parp of the train as it came to level crossings in the distance and the drone of far-off traffic, but also the birds squawking and crawing and tweeting.
Public Footpath, Greensand Way, KentSoft and rolling (private) countryside, divided by landowner with barbed wire fences, Kent
Sadly, despite the wonderful view, once out of the trees the very strong fumes were evident for miles.
Sweet chestnut in its prickly cases, KentBeautiful native trees allow dappled sun to light up the first fall of autumn leaves, Kent
The fences became much stronger and the gates quite serious, when I came across the deer on my left standing still, observing me. I startled a reclining stag and away he bounded, taking off and landing from all four feet at the same time which always makes me laugh.
A herd of majestic deer with developing antlers, Kent
Then the flock of curious youngsters gathered and crept closer until one of the stags stretched forward his neck and bellowed, causing them to pause. He moved into the centre, whereupon the second, smaller male departed. The others continued to stare, their ears pricked. It reminded me of the grounds of Knole House in Sevenoaks where I grew up and where I first saw deer roaming like this. Further on, three more lazed in the shade of a great oak until I disturbed them. They had fawn spots on their backs and white bottoms with black stripes down the middle!
Three stags under an oak tree, Kent
The red brick Elizabethan Manor house, Roydon Hall was on my left now, with its stepped roof edges and old-fashioned chimneys. Apparently it has an escape route below the cellars, but it appeared to be boarded up although the the lawn was newly mown.
Roydon Hall, Kent
I expect they call this prison-like fencing, ‘managed land’.
Keeping us off his land, protecting us from the deer maybe, Kent
There was a square tower with a turret and lake to my left (though later I thought perhaps it was plastic-covered crops) and satellite dish to my right.
This was the only slight incline and at the top was what I assume was a folly. Its yellow stone and Grecian columns were set amidst lush foliage in the midday sun.
A bit of a folly amongst the foliage, Kent
As I strode down the lane, two women and four walking poles approached me to ask directions.
There were beech nuts and conkers on the asphalt.Wild clematisGlorious Autumn colours
Several miles along the road took me to the St Mary the Virgin church at Nettlestead with its simple 13th century tower and possible Saxon foundations.
St Mary the Virgin, Nettlestead, KentStained glass at St Mary’s the Virgin, Nettlestead, Kent
Set in an equally charming churchyard, the building was started by the magnificently named de Pympe family. It has six notably large windows commissioned by Reginald de P.
At the top of each window stand angels with curiously feathered legs. (taken from the history leaflet)
In addition, I was shocked to read that
The original glass of this window with the rest of the 15th century glass in the church suffered damage by impious hands at a time unknown. (Taken from the plaque)
And furthermore, that the visit of the Archbishop of Canterbury in July 24th 1895
… was well nigh “a visit of surprise” so short was our prior notice… And here let me say at once how troubled I am to think that in the hurry of the moment some members of the Parish Church Committee were overlooked. (From an account in the church).
Not far away was an entrance to the Medway river path where I stood back as a cyclist whizzed past.
It was a gentle stroll back to the Hampstead Marina alongside various water crafts including one propelled by a man with a long white ponytail and no shirt, sitting behind an infant in a baby seat and a woman who talked incessantly.
Tall trees shushed a plane and helicopter and the smells were all fruity or woody, wet or damp.
Hampstead Mariner, Yalding, Kent
On arrival there were three men with two boats watching as a fourth opened the lock. I joined them as the water slowly filled the space between the gates, fascinated as they floated through and boarded for “a couple of miles down and back, and then a pint!”
Hampstead Mariner, Yalding, KentNew houses and the deep blue sky reflected in the water at Hampstead Mariner, Kent
I retraced my steps to The Boathouse for a half of Shepherd Neame’s Autumn Ale. I was admiring the hops when a couple stopped to tell me what they were and that they had been hop pickers years ago. Hundreds used to come from London to join the workforce at the picking season.
Wild hops growing on the railings, source of the beer industry and more, Kent
The sign said,
Cheers! Yalding has always had a strong connection to alcohol! At one time it was producing more hops than any other parish in England. It is also famed for its cherry orchards and the (sic) remains of the Medieval Vineyards have been found in the area. The various crops have been used to produce wine, beer and cherry brandy..
It was a ‘driving with the top down’ sort of a day.
You can download the pdf of the walk leaflet here. It is pretty good and contains useful and accurate photos of fields with superimposed arrows showing where to go. The second paragraph of number 2 is a repeat so ignore this.
Acres of caravans for the pickers, polytunnels reduced to skeletons
At 9.30am I left my air bnb with numb feet. Snow was on the ground, there was a pink sky, and almost no-one else about.
Largo Law now in the morning light
It turns out that Silverburn Park is not a secret Garden as I thought last night!
I walked briskly between ploughed fields towards the sea, across the main road and through the park. Past the sweet wee red brick cottages (not open on Sundays) I went and met the first lot of dog walkers including a woman in high heels with her breakfast hot chocolate.
By time got to the beach (10.15am) my toes were all but thawed but I was walking slower than usual on account of a dodgy left knee. Joggers went past and dogs were constantly barking and disturbing my peace.
Another of Fife’s sublime beaches
The tide was way out revealing water with a smooth metallic look about it. It was the light catching the shallows sands which was so beautiful. Wind was on my right cheek today, rather than heat, as I made my way eastwards along the coast.
Mountain bikers took the path well trodden. I went across streets which were treacherously icy with puddles deeply frozen, and the only sign of the sun was the pink rim on the eastern horizon.
I never pass up a wee swing
As I swung forwards I surveyed the changed shoreline with its diagonal black rocks familiar from stage 2. Then straight on I went, past the orange house where a white-haired saunterer in shorts returned from getting the morning paper. Readers of my blog know that I love my shorts but not in this weather!
Lower Largo
Lower Largo is a very pretty village with brightly painted doors and model yachts in windows.
Here is Alexander Selkirk, view haloo! Lower Largo
Alexander Selkirk, mariner, is the original Robinson Crusoe, who lived in solitude on the island of Juan Fernandez for 4 years and 4 months.
It has to be said that it was all a little bleak this morning with only a weak sun.
The Fife Coastal Path
Multi-coloured rocks and bright green pebbles with shiny brown seaweed and opaque glass pieces could be found along the shore. Oyster catchers were peeping and others trilling. A couple held hands and battered shells littered the ground.
It was a hard walk in a good stretch of nature. I saw a couple of thrushes and a tall, friendly man with a ruddy face. His long-legged red setter had a neon tennis ball clamped in its jaws as we crossed the Dumbarnie Links Nature Reserve. Here there were raven-esque, empty mussel caskets (I was directly opposite the town of Musselburgh!) and I felt melancholy.
It was what I call wonky walking where one of my feet is on higher ground than the other. The strand stretched out ahead and while gulls swooped, black and white waders dipped orange beaks.
Berwick Law in East Lothian to the south, was snow covered too. Here was only one other human in sight. There seemed to be miles of those lumpy sea creatures’ corpses, all rubbery, and simply trillions of shells on their way to becoming sand creating quite a different crunch underfoot compared with the ice and snow.
To follow this part of the coastal path, just keep walking along the beach before a long line of dark green trees with appear across your view. Then you will see a sign to the left heralding a change of terrain.
Shell Bay: evergreens signal a change of landscape, Fife Coastal Path
Between bleached grasses, round and over the peedie bridge
Brilliant clear air and the stillest of waters makes for magnificent reflections
A World War II look-out post – what a cold job that must have been!
Up and over the cliffs runs the way, some roughness and muddyness, steep but not very high. Sadly I missed the part where there is a chain to climb up. Apparently people have died so on second thoughts that was probably a good thing, although being me I would have liked the challenge.
Earlsferry Beach, Fife, Scotland
Around 1.30pm I arrived at Elie beach with its yellow brown sand and a headless seal. People were foraging for cockles and a feathered wren hopped by my side.
Cove after cove was made of delicately hued sands
The next urbanisation, Earlsferry, seemed to be a well-to-do area with mansion turrets and BMWs all over the place.
Earlsferry Church, dated 1872, Fife, Scotland
There is a library and care home but no shops or pubs. The sky was fair lowering (getting dark – looks like rain!) and I was getting hungry, so I took a detour until I spied a golf club and the Pavillon Cafe which was busy. What incredible luck as ever!
Inside I not only found warmth, hot victuals and a distinct lack of wind, but I unexpectedly spotted a familiar face. I ordered my food and said ‘Hi’ to a colleague from long ago. We struck up a conversation and with true kindness he and his partner announced that they lived in St Monan’s (my destination) and asked if I would like to stay the night. I gratefully accepted because I had nowhere booked and transport back to Edinburgh from small Fife villages is hard to find on a Sunday evening. I declined a lift though, and made my way back out into the slightly rainy and dull afternoon (3.15pm) with a cosy tummy and glowing heart.
From the evocatively named Ruby Bay (pink sand), Fife, Scotland
The last stretch is full of interest : a lighthouse and a palace, two castles (Newark and St Monans), divers ruins and a famous church (but it was too dark for a photo).
Lady Janet Anstruther’s Tower, Fife, Scotland
With wilder, darkening waves pounding I walked through pinkish bracken and I approached St Monans around the fields, arriving as the day the darkened at 5pm.
What a pretty village! I was really taken with it.
Here is the wellie garden, St Monans, Fife
Typical architecture with outside steps up to pink doorwars, St Monans, Fife
My camera cannot cope with the dark, but the colours and reflections were worth reproducing here. St Monans, Fife
I am told that the East Pier Smokehouse is well worth a visit, however it is shut between October and June. There is famous parish church and a Heritage Collection. The hotel I saw was also shut in the winter months so it’s a good thing there are air bnb’s nowadays and Margaret’s sounded great when I made enquiries. I was lucky and stayed with J and J whom I had fortuitously met earlier and had a lovely evening and comfy bed.
I travelled back by car with J to Kirkcaldy station across the flat lands as dawn revealed another wintry sky. Then we got the train to Waverley Station in Edinburgh. To get back to Edinburgh from St Monans by bus would cost £10 with a change at Leven and it takes ages.
Sometimes when I walk I crunch, sometimes my footsteps thud on the grass or whisper on sand. Occasionally there is a rumble of small stones or snap of stick, splinter of ice, even hollow bump into the peat or squelch because of the wetness. These things I notice as I walk the paths of Fife early in the year.
Walking without a donkey 