‘All of Sussex is laid out before us’: walking a new trail in the South Downs national park | Walking holidays
There are many ways to make an entrance, but lurching into a pub full of smartly dressed diners while windswept, muddy and more than a little frayed wouldn’t be my first choice. At 7.30pm on a sunny Sunday evening, the Welldiggers Arms – a country pub just outside Petworth in West Sussex – is full of people tucking into hearty roasts, the glass-walled restaurant overlooking glorious downland scenery, the sun all but disappeared behind the hills. For my husband, Mark, and I, it’s more than a stop for supper; the pub marks the halfway point on our two-day walking adventure along a brand new trail, the 25-mile Petworth Way.
Twenty-five miles may not sound like much (I have keen walker friends who would do it in a day) but, for us, it’s the perfect length, with plenty of pubs along the way. The first leg, from Haslemere to Petworth, covers countryside we’re both entirely unfamiliar with; the second, Petworth to Arundel runs through landscapes I’ve known since childhood. Happily, the start and finish points can be reached by rail – meaning we can leave the car at home and set off with nothing but small rucksacks, water bottles and detailed printed instructions.
Things start easily enough; a brief weave through Haslemere’s residential streets before the first serious ascent, through fields and shady, fern-rippled woodland that opens out on to Black Down, the highest point in the South Downs national park. After the dim light of the wood, the heathland blazes with colours; bursts of butter-yellow gorse, purple heather and bottle-green pine trees, all set beneath an intensely blue sky.
It reminds me of Ashdown Forest, which inspired Winnie-the-Pooh, and Mark and I bicker happily about who would be Christopher Robin and who Pooh, before arriving at the Temple of the Winds viewpoint, where we sink gratefully on to the seat and soak up the view. It is spectacular; green velvet hills and blueish-tinged valleys, church spires and the odd country estate dotted between the trees, all of Sussex laid out before us, half drenched in sunlight, half darkened by ominous clouds throwing down grey mists of rain on the horizon.
Keen not to miss lunch at the Noah’s Ark pub in Lurgashall, we set off again, at which point the bickering becomes slightly less good-humoured as we realise we’re going the wrong way. Ten minutes’ later, we’re properly lost, with an OS app on a phone that has unhelpfully lost all signal and directions that make no sense. Thankfully, a pair of local walkers point us in the right direction, and we make it down the hill, past vineyards and on to the pub, where we settle in with a couple of cold halves, some local salami and warm bread, eaten while watching a cricket match on the village green.
Fortunately, the next few miles are more straightforward, until a final ascent that leads into Petworth House’s great park; a glorious end to the day that makes us feel as if we’ve got this walking thing licked. That is, until we realise there are very few taxis in Petworth and we’ll have to walk the extra mile and a half to the Welldiggers, which, fortunately, proves to be a cocoon of loveliness; all soft clean linens, piping-hot showers, and staff who politely pretend not to notice our slightly catatonic state over dinner.
Next morning, fuelled by delicious shakshuka (poached eggs in a hot tomato sauce) and several buckets of tea, we hop in a taxi back to Petworth park to continue the walk across the Sussex Weald. The route drops in on a short section of the Serpent Trail – a 65-mile route from Haslemere to Petersfield that we pencil in for next year – before veering away past Burton Park, a grandiose, privately owned Greek revival mansion, all Doric columns and vanilla-hued walls. From here, the path heads downhill, which, we agree, is not a good thing, as it means going uphill is not far off.
Uphill is something of an understatement, and the pull up through the villages of Barlavington and Sutton was made even more challenging as the White Horse Inn, earmarked for a restorative half, turns out to be closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Fuelled instead by lukewarm water and half a Twix each, we carry on towards Bignor, the gradient steepening with every step. By the time we’re walking east along the South Downs Way, the 360-degree views – across a patchwork of faded cornfields and khaki grassland – are quite some reward. Even so, it’s a welcome change to begin the descent into Houghton village, where I know (because I’ve checked) lunch awaits.
after newsletter promotion
It’s this leg that really reaffirms the joy of walking for me. As the Arun valley unfolds beside the wooded hills of the Arundel estate, I think of how many decades I’ve driven the road that runs alongside and how different the countryside looks when taken at a slow pace, with the chance to stop and look, rather than snatched glances through the windscreen. Thirty years ago, I’d sit over lunch with my mum and dad in the George & Dragon’s garden, watching hikers amble down the very hillside we’re walking on. I’ve not been back to the pub for many years and it’s lovely – if slightly lump in throat – to return and have my parents suddenly conjured up so vividly.
It’s tempting to stay all afternoon, but after a classic ploughman’s (what else?), we lace up our boots for the final stretch, past Houghton’s thatched, flint-walled cottages and along the River Arun, before one final ascent into the Arundel estate. Clouds glower, but we’re lucky; the rain holds off as we skirt the edge of Swanbourne Lake and pass the Hiorne Tower, built by architect Francis Hiorne in 1797, as part of his (failed) bid to rebuild Arundel Castle. When we pop out on to London Road and amble towards the familiar outline of the castle, we’re almost too focused on finding large slabs of cake to properly celebrate the fact we’ve arrived at our destination.
Later, once the train has taken us back to our corner of the East Sussex countryside, I think about how little I know, really, of the landscapes I’ve visited since childhood. We’ll probably never be long-distance walkers, but weekend trails like this prove you don’t have to be; a couple of days is enough to see a familiar landscape in a whole new light.
Accommodation was provided by the Welldiggers Arms, which has double rooms from £115 B&B
