Southern Rambles for Londoners by S P B Mais

Southern Rambles for Londoners by S P B Mais

Author:S P B Mais
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Southern Rambles for Londoners
ISBN: 9781783660216
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2019-11-28T00:00:00+00:00


COLLEY HILL

A heavy leaden cup is supplied for wayfarers to slake their thirst. I for one was grateful for the happy thought. After the climb I was ready for a drink, and the pure chalk water was as welcome as nectar.

There are two notices near the fountain. One is to warn cyclists off and the other instructing visitors to keep to the right. The open, close-cropped wide sward is for walkers. There were four people seated on a bench, but they looked too fat and well dressed for anything but motorists. I saw no road, but suspected its presence. There was only one walker and he was heavily overcoated and accompanied by a dog. I suspected him of living in one of the many rich-looking houses that lie embowered among trees just below the crest of the hill.

I began my walk westwards with the tower of Leith Hill and the whole rich dark green sweetness of the weald unrolled below me. On the face of it you would think it a simple matter just to keep on the crest of the escarpment as the ancient pilgrims did all the way to Dorking.

It is not, alas, simple at all. I wanted a view all the way, the sun and wind in my face and the springy downland turf under my feet.

Next time I shall keep to the southern part of the hill where, I believe, the track is well marked. On this occasion having with difficulty gained the heights, I meant to keep on them. At first the way was easy. It led past the ugly water tower, and then veered off right-handed towards Walton Heath. I didn’t want the Heath. I wanted the crest of the escarpment, so at the first opportunity I turned left down a short lane which led to the gates of a large country house. Just outside these gates is a very narrow path lying between fences. I followed this. The fence on my left was a neat affair of green camouflage net. I crossed a drive to another narrow twitten with great gardens and fine houses on either side of the track. There were two white houses, one called Mouse Hill, where the track widened and then narrowed again to lead me through a wet and very ancient wood. This felt like the Pilgrims’ Way and I’m pretty sure it was.

I came to a parting of the ways, one track leading steeply down left-handed, the other to wind round a most curious dell with a knoll in it crowned with beech trees that looked to me like a prehistoric burial ground. Unfortunately the way to the wood is barred with fences and barbed wire and the track turns north.

There is apparently no escape from Walton Heath. It is a very good heath, a wild medley of gorse and bracken, and in the distance I saw the spire of what I took to be Tadworth church, but my objective was the west, so I kept going



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