Weather: Fine, warm, mainly
sunny.
Distance: 35km ( 21.7
miles) Total Distance:
2462miles
I had
a date with a photographer today so I had had my eye on the weather forecast,
my health and the clock for the weekend.
It was an early Sunday morning and not much traffic on the road for my
trip down to Walton. I was due to meet
Tony at 10 o’clock at the Naze car park and so left myself plenty of time to
drive, find somewhere to park and walk the couple of miles to our meeting
place. I was surprised that I could park
on the promenade all day so close to the pier free of charge but it definitely
said that there were no restrictions on a Sunday so off I set.
Most of the walk to the Naze was along a
promenade but there petered out and I climbed onto the cliffs – the first bit
of high ground I think I had seen since Kent!
I was early to meet Tony so went into the café and ordered a bread and
butter pudding and cup of coffee. I must say the café was top notch and it was
the best bread and butter pudding imaginable!
Tony turned up on time despite relating the story to me that he returned
from his Morris dancing session late last night to find his toilet blocked! He
was a pleasant fellow – knew Bray from taking his daughter over to see Dublin
University and recommended a café Escape in Bray which he described as an oasis
– and very correct he was too when we visited it a couple of weeks later! He took quite a lot of photos of me walking
towards him, posing with a map etc but it was all over in 10 minutes and I was
on my way on a circular walk around the Naze.
That took about an hour and I was then back where I had started from in
Walton. The path took me through a
couple of caravan parks and then a small industrial estate.
Orientation
was a bit tricky in Walton but I got onto the main road to Kirkby and followed
that till a track took me down towards the sea.
I had expected it to be deserted on the sea wall but there were a couple
of groups of people walking and fishing.
I had an encounter with a disgruntled householder a Kirkby when I was
trying to find the footpath. I had
crossed the creek as marked on the map no problem but then the path was
supposed to turn immediately seawards again, but in real life a house blocked
this. He appeared and told me the map
was incorrect and that I would have to go up the lane then through a hedge
before backtracking in effect back past his house. It was only a few yards so I
was in no mood to argue even if he had diverted the path himself.
From there to White House I hardly met a sole
– I wished this section had been more popular because it was heavy going being
overgrown in parts and uneven underfoot.
It was the first time I was wearing anti-blister socks and was impressed
how they were behaving in very bad conditions – hot weather and uneven
under-foot. I was getting very concerned at this stage that I was falling
behind my time – I had a deadline to meet – the only bus of the whole week
between Harwich and Walton left Harwich at 5.20 on a Sunday afternoon!
Fortunately,
from Beaumont Quay onwards the paths got a lot better. Instead of sea defences it was paths through
fields and along roads for about five miles.
My concern for maybe missing the bus meant that I did not stop and ate
and drank on the hoof pushing myself hard.
On the road at Great Oakley I passed a port-a-cabin acting as a
gatehouse for a company called Exchem Organics.
This company was obviously up to dangerous work as they placed
themselves literally out in the middle of nowhere – I think they specialise in
nitration reactions. The path that took
me back to the sea was past a fruit-picking farm. I wondered at the brand new Jaguar parked
there – why did someone who could afford a Jag want to go fruit picking? Once on the sea defences I soon came within
sight o Harwich and became less panicky about getting the bus but I was still
to concerned to stop walking for any length of time.
The
last couple of miles were along promenade and scrubland. I asked at the lifeboat station the way to
the quay that is the place the bus was due to start its journey from. Once at the quay which was at the very tip I
tried to find a bus stop but nobody could remember seeing a bus stop there and
advised me to go to the bus station instead.
There were great views of large freight carriers inching their way into
Felixstowe. I found the bus station
without too much trouble but there was not too much sign of life there either. Never mind I thought the timetable there definitely said there was a bus. Soon a number of elderly ladies appeared who
also planned to catch that bus and we stared chatting. There were great, relating their travels on
the buses of Essex which they got for a very knock down price. They appeared to spend much of their time
jumping on and off the local buses visiting the local seaside resorts. I told them what I was doing and they said
they had seen me earlier in the day from the bus as it passed near Little
Oakley. The bus did tun up and did go
down to near the quay but not quite, and showed no signs of stopping anywhere
near there – it looked like it was some annoying little detour that it was
forced to take. I'm glad I had walked back up to the bus station.
My car
was still at the now very busy Walton promenade and without a parking
ticket. I comforted myself with a Solaro
ice-lolly before driving home. My feet
were sore, even with my new anti-blister socks, but I was not too disheartened
– it had been a long, hot and at times difficult walk almost without stopping
so I would probably had even worse feet if I had not had the socks on.
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