The Weald is not spectacular, but it is attractive. When the Kent/Sussex/Surrey peninsula was worn down, leaving the remains of the top layer as the North and South Downs, the Weald was left in the middle as a gently-ragged dome. The soil is rich and the crops appear to prosper.
This year has been especially good for plant growth – the right proportions of warmth and moisture resulted in very green greens in the Spring and Summer; now in Autumn, the reds and browns are equally impressive.
That lyrical interlude is just a cover-up for the fact that nothing much happened during this day’s walk across farmland and through sleek villages, the oast houses and cottages as likely to be occupied by bankers and businessmen as by farmers and growers.
I passed a man out walking with his dog. The dog appeared to be looking for something - nothing strange in that, dogs are always looking for something, but the man explained. "He's looking for your dog. He's so used to everyone having a dog round here that you've got him puzzled." I was obviously sorry to disappoint the dog.
It may have been largely uneventful, but it was a thoroughly pleasant saunter. The village (or small town) of Yalding is attractively bustling. Here I crossed the River Medway on an old bridge which finds it hard to cope with modern traffic. Vehicles are controlled by lights, and pedestrians take their chances beween the traffic flows.
Seeing a large board across a field, I was expecting another f*** off sign, but no! it was an interpretation board. Rather like the boards which have become ubiquitous in tourist areas (not a complaint - I read them), this one had explanations of what the farm was producing and how. A small brass plate on one leg had "Amy" engraved on it. If that means that it was Amy who put the board up, I thank her.
I picked up the Wealdway (I had previously been following the Greensand Way since Rye) to head North.
The church at East Peckham is cared for by the Churches Conservation Trust, which “looks after Church of England churches which are of architectural significance and are no longer used for regular worship” (Wikipedia). The benefit to walkers is that as you (unusually for this area) climb a rather steep hill, the church provides a splended sight.
The church at West Peckham is, as far as I know, a fully-functioning CofE church. I paid more attention to the village pub, just next to the church and the village green. Soup and ciabatta bread made a delicious lunch, after which I managed to get lost again, following a confusing woodland path which led to a more confusing orchard path. Some more GPS work and an unscheduled hack through a small thicket got me safely back on track near Basted. A bonus was two more candidates for my series of abandoned football photos.
Me: Hello.
Man: Hello.
Me: Beautiful day.
Man: A treat!
Quite right, it was.
From Basted, it was a simple and familiar walk uphill to Borough Green, a busy place on a main road, with a vital ingredient – a railway station. Having purchased some drinks and a chocolate bar, I walked straight on to a train, and 45 minutes later I was back in London, and looking forward to the next trip, from Borough Green to Swanley
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