Again, a depleted group of 3 set off toward the more equestrian sector of the village and made our way through several fields. We had, within minutes of setting of, acquired a canine accompaniment in the shape of a small black furry terrier type chap, who despite our best efforts to deter him from following us through stiles, seemed to artfully stay in tow for a couple of fields. We eventually arrived at a gate where we quickly escaped his scent.
The first horse was being put through his paces as we walked alongside the stables and bullpen. There was a scurry of a few rabbits disappearing from sight as we continued along the path. The next field's content had changed considerably from the first time we had walked through it several years ago. We had noted that well kept turf that used to be in this field had gone, and was now planted with thriving turnips. We looked back to see the Church spire disappearing in the distance.
We were soon hurdling over our sixth stile and walking down Stalkers Lane and getting through numerous fields via gates tied with pieces of nylon string. Turning left into a protected gulley footpath, where pheasants were scurrying around in rich abundance, we crossed a footbridge which took us over the small stream which flowed south and eventually join the River Cuckmere. We spied through to see the tree roots thirsty for the moisture of the stream. Little rainfall over the previous month was causing the streams to run fairly low.
Over the bridge at Stream Mill where there was once an iron foundry and we were soon heading towards the newly developed buildings around the Stream Farm.
We crossed over the road and started the second phase of the walk which led beside the woods where earlier in the year we'd seen a carpet of bluebells.
The gates had signs on them, warning dog owners about the risks of allowing their pets off lead where livestock occupy the fields. We didn't however see much livestock but during a brief pit stop to rehydrate and refuel, we heard the sound of a double barreled shotgun discharging it's cartridges in a nearby field. Strangely it was the only shot we heard.
We took a quick look into the barns where a local car maintenance company were reviving classic MGs and Jags etc., then out on the road for a 10 minute walk passing some houses and cottages that were displaying information about the Chiddingly Festival... open art studios were nearby, but we had little time spare for exploring unfortunately.
Once again, a footpath beckoned running through Gray wood, where back gardens from both sides fenced the path. In fact a section of it well furnished with an attractive arbor.
We then headed along the boundary of another field which backed onto a camp site where a selection of different caravans were nestled away in sections of Broomfield Wood. A quiet retreat for those campers who wished to get away from their usual world.
The trees on the opposite side of the field were showing signs of autumn. Nobody were going to tell these trees anything different. They were starting to show signs of tinged reds and browns with a golden glory as if to celebrate their efforts through the spring and summer months.
It wasn't too long before Chiddingly church spire was coming into view as we encountered several more tricky stiles to hurdle. The hedgerows were peppered with blackberries and sloe, as the temptation to pick them before they were shriveled away for another year, were postponed until next year with intentions to make some sloe gin.
The final field we climbed into had a forbidding looking ram that was clearly managing to keep his strength up for the accompanying sheep that were in the same field. He gave us a few menacing looks before moving off with his group of approving followers.
We were back on the lane now, and walking steadily past the Place Farmhouse outside which was a reassuring sign that the 'Friendly Village Shop' was nearby. There is a persistent tradition of a secret tunnel from Chiddingly Place to the church which is supposed to emerge either in front of the monument or at the base of the tower, but this is so far unproven. It is known, however, that part of a tunnel was found at Chiddingly Place which emerges in one of the original rooms of the present Place Farm.
Around the next corner and the local pub, The Six Bells, came into view. The sign hanging from the building showed the six bells of which the same number of bells are encased within the church belfry.
We strolled back into the Village Hall car park reviewing pros and cons of the walk. The walk had been full of scenic idiosyncrasies which made it unique however in addition to the number of stiles (20) in need of repair or redesign our concentration was frequently tested as the trail had been dappled with irresponsible dog owners who'd not moved or picked up their dog's mess from paths.
Once again, a footpath beckoned running through Gray wood, where back gardens from both sides fenced the path. In fact a section of it well furnished with an attractive arbor.
We then headed along the boundary of another field which backed onto a camp site where a selection of different caravans were nestled away in sections of Broomfield Wood. A quiet retreat for those campers who wished to get away from their usual world.
The trees on the opposite side of the field were showing signs of autumn. Nobody were going to tell these trees anything different. They were starting to show signs of tinged reds and browns with a golden glory as if to celebrate their efforts through the spring and summer months.
It wasn't too long before Chiddingly church spire was coming into view as we encountered several more tricky stiles to hurdle. The hedgerows were peppered with blackberries and sloe, as the temptation to pick them before they were shriveled away for another year, were postponed until next year with intentions to make some sloe gin.
The final field we climbed into had a forbidding looking ram that was clearly managing to keep his strength up for the accompanying sheep that were in the same field. He gave us a few menacing looks before moving off with his group of approving followers.
We were back on the lane now, and walking steadily past the Place Farmhouse outside which was a reassuring sign that the 'Friendly Village Shop' was nearby. There is a persistent tradition of a secret tunnel from Chiddingly Place to the church which is supposed to emerge either in front of the monument or at the base of the tower, but this is so far unproven. It is known, however, that part of a tunnel was found at Chiddingly Place which emerges in one of the original rooms of the present Place Farm.
Around the next corner and the local pub, The Six Bells, came into view. The sign hanging from the building showed the six bells of which the same number of bells are encased within the church belfry.
We strolled back into the Village Hall car park reviewing pros and cons of the walk. The walk had been full of scenic idiosyncrasies which made it unique however in addition to the number of stiles (20) in need of repair or redesign our concentration was frequently tested as the trail had been dappled with irresponsible dog owners who'd not moved or picked up their dog's mess from paths.
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