Back on the South Downs Way

Decided to follow the South Downs Way again - in weekly (not weakly) stages. Last time we did this was about twelve years ago, even then the maps we used were outdated - but now we have google,  keineinehora, to guide us. The train to Eastbourne, and a canceled local bus means we have a long trek along the Eastbourne sea-front before we get to the start of the walk. Then the initial immediate steep climb, (we take the coastal route rather than the inland Jevington Bridle Path) with views back over the town. This leads through to a narrow shrubby path when the trekking poles come out. Google guides us through patches that the signposters forgot. 

We emerge onto the open spaces by the cliff tops, to discover ferocious winds blowing us back. Unlike some intrepid but foolish selfie-snapping young tourists, we avoid getting anywhere near the cliff edges as we are blown past Beachy Head. ('Beachy' come not from 'Beach' but a corruption of the French 'Beau chef' - beautiful headland. So Beachy Head is 'beautiful headland head').  Beyond the tautology, we climb up, with many other tourists and walkers, to Belle Tout, the lighthouse that Uncle Lionel bought in order to get away from people so that he could concentrate on his writing. He bought it in the winter, and discovered that from spring through to autumn the place was a hive of activity for ramblers and sightseers. He never wrote there, and finally sold the place to the BBC who used it to film Fay Weldon's The Life and Loves of a She-Devil. Several years ago, the cliff edge was so badly eroding that the whole structure was hoisted up and moved back 17 metres. In recent months there has been talk of moving it again. From Belle Tout we continue the gentle walk to Birling Gap.

After Birling Gap the trail rises, and starts a switchback of steep ups and downs along the magnificent cliff-top with its spectacular views. But this is a feat of endurance (not apparent in the pictures), as on the steep climbs we are blown back by ferociously strong winds, and at each crest we struggle to remain upright before tackling the subsequent knee-cracking chalky descents. But the views... oh the views. 

Finally we are at Cuckmere Haven and the Seven Sisters Country Park. We follow the path that wends along the winding riverbank, and I remember past visits here, with friends when the kids were young, with work colleagues after fraught but memorable planning days out, and walks to clear the mind and plot the grand opus.  We reach Exeat just as the Brighton bus pulls up. The battle against the gusting winds has weakened our resolve, and ageing muscles and bones wisely counsel us to board. We'll resume from here next week - or maybe go back and take the alternative inland bridle path to Alfriston.