Looking
across the Swale to Sheppey
Male
lizard
Oare
Creek
Hog's
fennel
|
The
start of the walk from the centre of Sittingbourne was dreary, busy roads
passing through industrial estates, although we did see both London rocket and coriander
by the roadsides. Where the footpath was supposed to link with the Milton Creek embankment we found it had been
closed for building work and we had to follow an alternative inland route by
the Stadium and through a rubbish dump with smoking refuse and a caravan
park, whose sewage seemed to be going straight into a pond. Past here we walked through Little Murston
Nature Reserve, which had only a few water birds, and finally along the
embankment beside The Swale. A couple
and their dog were walking beside the reserve’s lakes, so no wonder there
were few birds in evidence. The
embankment was very straight eastwards, with tall grass each side, from which
newly emerged crane-flies continually emerged to blunder into our faces and
bodies. After a couple of kilometres
we reached a major inlet to Conyer. Across
the water we could see a pub and looked forward to a cooling drink. A marshy area just before the village had
edible frogs. We also heard, and then
saw, more turtle doves. Around the
marina we finally gained the short village road and the pub, but the latter
was closed. We continued north to
rejoin the embankment by The Swale. We
immediately went down to the foreshore of saltmarsh turf to sit on a platform
mainly of thrift to eat lunch. We were looking directly across to Fowley Island that had flocks of nesting
black-headed gulls. Beyond rose the
Isle of Sheppey. After lunch we had
another long stretch of embankments directly eastwards with a sight of a pair
of shoveler in The Swale. We also saw some grass vetchling, masses of
salsify, many clown bugs, and a mallard nest with two eggs in long grass
right beside the path. We passed
demolished army camps on our way to Oare Marshes bird reserve. The visitor centre was closed and we could
see few birds of interest apart from a couple of redshanks. We did, however, see a male lizard crossing
the grass turf at the point where Oare Creek enters the Swale. We now continued up this creek towards Oare
and Davington, which merge into Faversham. The muddy creek was full of boats. A pond had more green frogs that may have
been hybrids between marsh and edible. At Oare there was a road across the head of
the creek and the footpath left north up the other side of the creek, away
from Faversham, to carry on round Ham Marshes, bounded on the north and east
sides by Faversham Creek. When we reached
the meeting-point of Oare and Faversham Creeks there was a welcome pub – but again
it was closed! This path was
unremarkable (apart from lots of little egrets) until we encountered small-flowered
buttercup and hundreds of hog’s fennel plants along the embankment at the
point where the path began to go south and for half a kilometre on from
there. Finally we reached Faversham,
after passing downwind of sewage works across the creek. A new highly secure housing development had
been built right up to the water and eliminated the footpath. This meant a long detour round the housing and
a factory behind it. Just before
returning to the creek bank we encountered a slow-worm crossing the path, disturbed
by a dog. We watched it safely into
the rough vegetation out of sight. We
walked along a grass embankment under planted trees called Front Brents, with
Albion Taverna on our right. A bridge
crossed Faversham Creek and led to the town centre and the pedestrianised West Street where
we are lodging for the night at The Sun. We walked back to Albion Taverna for a very
hot and impossibly large Mexican meal and pints of Shepherd Neame Master
Brew, whose brewery we had just passed.
|
Day by day account of our walk around the coast of England, and the Welsh and Scottish borders, with notes on natural history.
Introduction
When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.
We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.
You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.
We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.
Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.
In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.
In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!
A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
Kent: Sittingbourne to Faversham 24/5/2010***
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