Monday 10 November 2008

Sun, Sand and Sea in Sheppey

Well two out of three ain't bad.....

If Kent is the ‘Garden of England’ then the Isle of Sheppey is the bit behind the shed where you dump the rubbish. My first ever holiday was at Leysdown and this was my first visit since. My mother was so deeply traumatised by the event that she has never been back and shudders when I mention caravanning as a holiday option. Sheppey still has plenty of unattractive caravan parks but I was surprised to find that large parts were nature reserves, Swale (English Nature) and Elmley (RSPB). Leysdown is also very important historically as the first powered flight took place at Muswell Manor in 1909.

I had arranged to meet my friend Frankie in the Coastal Country Park for an eight mile hike around the Isle of Harty, the most easterly part of Sheppey. Using the miracle of modern technology, I had the kettle boiled and the bacon crisped as she pulled up. We revised our plans as we munched as the weather was cold, wet and windy. It was very pleasant watching the oyster catchers and redshanks from the comfort of the van. I prevailed upon Frankie to drive us a mile up the bumpy coast road, past the Nudist beach, strangely empty, to Shellness. Shellness hamlet is a collection of coastguard cottages that now appear to be bijou holiday homes.

Our destination was the Swale National Nature Reserve, a mass of saltmarsh grazed by cattle and home to a variety of water fowl, foreign and domestic. I would have enjoyed the wide views and big skies, but my vision was blurred by the raindrops on my glasses. We took refuge in one of the hides and Frankie introduced me to the fine art of birdwatching. She identified about twenty different species, from small brown jobs like greenfinches to much larger birds like greylag geese, curlew and heron. I enjoyed the peacefulness of the hide and appreciated the great variety of birdlife that can exist in one place, but I’ll never have the patience required for this hobby. It all got quite exciting when Frankie thought a beautiful bird with black wing tips might be a Montague's harrier, a rare visitor to these shores. Phone calls were exchanged between experts and texts dispatched before the bird was identified as a male Marsh Harrier, later confirmed by the bird book.

We returned to the car and thence to the van and went in convoy to the Harty Ferry Inn for a well deserved lunch and a stroll to the local church. With the caravans hidden from view, you could really enjoy the views of the Swale Estuary and salt marshes, imagining yourself back in the days of smuggling and convict hulks, such is the isolated nature of the place. Or just lose yourself in nature for a couple of hours in the company a good mate.

Tuesday 4 November 2008

Fingringhoe Wick

I had arranged to meet up with friends Frances and Trevor for lunch, afternoon walk and tea. I live in south west Essex, my friends live in north west Essex, so naturally we agreed to meet up at Tipree, which is on the other side of the county. Our rendezvous was the Tiptree Jam Factory which I'm sure is a tourist attraction unique to Essex; you can buy jam, eat jam and look around the little museum. Despite some rather dire weather warnings, it was a very pleasant mild autumn day with plenty of blue sky and the occasional ray of sun.



Our ultimate objective was Fingringhoe Wick, a nature reserve on the Colne Estuary not far from Colchester. This reserve, owned by the Essex Wildlife Trust was created from old gravel pits and has a variety of habitats; ponds, heathland, woodland and best of all the saltmashes. The views over the Colne Estuary from the tower on the Visitor Centre were terrific.



We meandered around the reserve, pretending to be bird watchers. Not difficult really as there were loads of them practising formation flying over the river. I guess the trick is to be able to identify them. Frances spotted a kingfisher and we think that the flying formations were geese, possibly Brent. There were hides dotted about all over the reserve and many, many seats, a testament to how many people really loved the place.



We were enjoying a post-walk cuppa in Archie (my van) when we were approached by a man carrying an axe. He turned out to be the very friendly and informative warden making sure we had enjoyed our visit. We had found yet another quiet, beautiful, relaxing place in Essex. Who knows, the lesser spotted librarian might become yet another frequent winter visitor!




Alternative Essex Tops - Part two

The Essex unitaries

What a difference a week makes! Unlike the previous Saturday, the weather was damp, gloomy and distinctly chilly, which made it difficult for photography, if not for walking.

This week’s objective was the two Essex unitary authorities of Thurrock and Southend along the Thames Estuary. They gained (or in Southend’s case regained) their independence from Essex in 1998. Most people are probably aware of the dubious charms of Southend and only associate Thurrock with Lakeside with shopping. However both places have played an important part in British history. Tilbury Fort (in Thurrock) is the place where Queen Elizabeth fired up her troops to defend England against the Armada and Southend was one of the first places to be bombed by Zeppelins in WW1. Both are quite hilly places for Essex, Southend has its Cliff Railway and Thurrock has Langdon Hills which rise out of the Thames flood plain.


Heath Mount (Southend-on-Sea) 197ft

Southend has twin peaks about a mile apart so I had hoped to join them up in a circular walk but total GPS failure, poor map reading and disinclination but paid to that. Heath Mount is a small part of Belfairs Park and Nature Reserve (also confusing known as Hadleigh Great Wood). It was a mixture of broadleaf woodland and golf course, well populated with walkers, runners, dogs, cyclists, horse riders and golfers. I had a pleasant stroll of about half a mile through the trees to the bit of wood identified as the highest point and marked with dog poo bin.



London Road A13 (Southend-on-Sea) 200ft

I meandered on through the woods and over the golf course but found myself back at the car park and not in the nature reserve, so I gave up, hopped in the car and relocated myself about a quarter mile from the Southend border. All you can say about the stroll to the top was that it was uphill. The top is marked by the Welcome to Southend sign. Southend is twinned with Sopot in Poland, which is a seaside town with a long pier, more like identical twinning. Normally there is quite a good view over the Thames estuary from this bit of the A13 but about the only thing visible in the gloom was the gas flame at the oil refinery.


Langdon Hills (Thurrock) 377ft

Essex, particularly the south-west bit, is well served by country parks, which probably explains why I haven’t visited Langdon Hills more often. It straddles the border between Essex and Thurrock and spread over several different sites linked by footpaths and bridleways. I opted to park at One Tree Hill as this was nearer the top and the gradient less steep but the Langdon Visitors Centre (on the Essex side) is well worth visiting, particularly the Haven Plotland Museum. This tells the story of the Essex plotlands, little chunks of land bought up by Eastenders who spent their weekends in the country.


From the car park there was a fine view east towards Southend and the woods I had just visited. The walk took me through woodlands up to Langdon Hill. The actually top of the hill is on the Essex side as are the grand views west towards London, obscured on this day by the murky weather. The top of Thurrock was along the boundary fence of a very posh house with no view whatsoever. Using map and compass I managed successfully to join up the waymarks that took me past a fine old oak and onto a bridleway back to One Tree Hill. I had to avoid Essex Girl Racers galloping along listening to their Ipods, getting back to Archie as the rain started to fall in earnest.

Despite the murky weather and unpromising topping material, I had two very enjoyable walks and discovered somewhere new in my own backyard.



The Old Oak