South Downs Walk – Hassocks to Cocking: 24-25 November 2024
I picked this walk for a couple of reasons:
1) It slotted neatly against the last South Downs walk I did, and means that I can probably complete the rest of the South Downs Way in another weekend, with a little gap missed between Lewes and Hassocks (my last walk in dark blue below, this one in red)
2) It meant that I could do my overnight camp at Chanctonbury Ring. Which is apparently haunted. Which I’d usually believe was bollocks, except Robert Macfarlane seems like an eminently sensible man. Enough so, that it was enough to make me a bit nervous about wild camping there on one of the longest nights of the year. And being nervous is fun (sometimes).
Due to the short days, I had to catch the 5.48am train from Victoria to get enough daylight to do the mileage. Which was a bit grim, especially since I’d been at a friend’s 40th birthday party the day before. Oh, and also Storm Bert was a thing.
But whilst the rest of the UK seemed to be battered by floods and snow, the South Downs decided to deliver a beautiful, clear day for me. I considered myself a very lucky bunny and set off with a big smile and a spring in my step…
…Until I started gaining some height. And then wind hit, made my rucksack feel like a parachute, and changed the angle of gravity from vertical to diagonal in my world.
You can see the way it catches the skin on my face in this video:
At least the windmills were happy!
I hadn’t planned any detours/sites of interest for this walk. The plan was to put my foot on the gas to cover the distance before the sun went down at 4pm. But then at Saddlescombe I saw this sign, and couldn’t help myself… Who doesn’t want to know what a donkey wheel is?
Turns out it’s one of these!
A big wheel built over a deep well, that you get your donkey (or children apparently) to walk in to lower a barrel down and then change direction to pull up the water. 55 litres at a time (so pretty damn heavy). This wheel/well would have provided the whole village with all their fresh water daily.
I liked Saddlescombe. They had good advice and cool vehicles as well as the donkey wheel.
Just a little further on, I passed the deep Devil’s Dyke valley. Local folklore says it was dug by the devil as part of a wager between the hermit Cuthman of Steyning after the Kingdom of Sussex converted to Christianity. My guidebook says it’s a glacial valley. But Wikipedia says it was caused by water run-off from the thawing of the last ice-age. Take your pick.
I stopped for lunch sheltering from the wind behind a boat next to a radio mast. Not sure why it was there, but I was very grateful for it. And I was treated to some more stunning views when I set back off again. This section of the South Downs way is all about rolling vistas and big skies, and I’m so here for it. The wind seemed to have put off other walkers too, so I had the trail to myself for most of the way.
Towards the latter part of the day I was hit by a pungent smell coming from upwind. At first I thought a farmer had been spreading slurry, but soon I was corrected. It was the biggest pig farm I’ve ever seen. The combination of the smell, the corrugated iron of rows and rows of pig tunnels repeated for over a kilometre, the mud, and the birds circling ominously overhead, waiting for what the pigs churned up gave the impression of walking through a porcine Mad Max world. An experience I’ve not had before!
I made it to Chanctonbury Ring with time to spare. It looked innocuous enough, and I set up camp round the back, sheltered from the wind and with a great view over the Weald.
As the sun went down, there was definitely a change in vibe. The trees were packed so close together that they rubbed and clanked in the wind. I was excited to see what the night would have in store and tried to keep my ears open for eery screeching.
But after a day of battling the wind I was very soon asleep, and was out like a log until sunrise. Was it haunted? I don’t think I can give a reliable answer. It’s highly possible that the spirits really tried to do a number on me and I slept right through it. I’m a more than 1 alarm at full volume in the morning person, so probably pretty annoying to try to spook once I’ve nodded off.
I woke to a morning that looked like this. The calm after the storm.
With only the occasional reminder of what had happened the previous day
The whole second day was just absolutely stunning. A proper joy to be out in it. And it felt extra special for it being like this at the end of November.
It got even better as the sun went down…
I had to cover 35km so I ended up walking the last section in the dark with a headtorch. This turned out to be magical – it lit up the eyes of all the crepuscular critters that I might have missed otherwise. Including this little fella (and some of his mates), who verified the ‘deer in the headlines’ cliché by staring at me as I slowly crept closer to her/him to get a picture.
I also got to hear and see a Barn Owl, but that was too fast for my camera skills…
And shortly after I arrived in Cocking where a bus took me to Chichester for a cheeky KFC before a train home.
That’s probably me done for multi-day hikes until the days get a bit longer again. But looking forward to covering the last section of the South Downs Way when they do…