Chevening, the picturesque small
village north-east of Sevenoaks, is an ideal starting
point for an autumn yomp along the North Downs Way and the wonderful surrounding
countryside of the Kent - Surrey borders. There is of course the
added bonus of the possibility of catching a fleeting glimpse of our hard
working Foreign Secretary, who may be residing, at our expense, at his
magnificent 17th-century grace and favour mansion reputedly designed by Inigo
Jones and set in a rolling 3500 acre estate. If there is an official reception
in full swing be sure to stick to the designated footpaths to avoid the risk of being
wrestled to the ground by an over eager diplomatic protection officer,
lurking in nearby bushes.
The early days of a
heavy autumn when the temperatures are still mild and the grass verges are
heavy with dew long into the afternoon are ideal for walking. Parking up at the
back of the pretty St Botolph's church, a path leads north from the church before
rising up about 100 meters to the top of the chalk downs. These days
are the last for the blackberries and the first of the chestnuts though the
full riotous colours of autumn are yet to reach their full glory. After an
ascent through woods, the path intersects the North Downs Way and by turning
left and heading west, Romney and I, both panting a little from the exertion,
set off towards Surrey. The well signposted path is littered with copper
coloured beech leaves and thousands of acorns crunch under my boots as Romney
pursues pheasants in every field.
After almost 2km, the
path crosses the road at Sunbridge Hill and if you are only looking for an hour
or two of exercise you can turn left here, after the kissing gate and proceed
downhill past Knockholt Lodge and then turn left past the pheasant hatchery
into Park Wood. This will lead you back down through the Chevening Estate but
you will need to keep dogs on leads near the hatchery as there are game birds
everywhere.
For a dog with very
limited cerebral capacity Romney is most studious when it comes to negotiating
kissing gates. His first preference is to try and find a gap big enough to
squeeze through but he gradually grows more confident at following me through
the simple manoeuvre of opening the gate, sliding past and closing the gate
behind us. In one field a gate was left standing isolated
serving no purpose but Romney insisted on approaching it carefully and waiting
patiently for me to open it for him even though there was a 20 meter gap either
side of it for him to proceed through.
This beautiful
countryside must be unchanged for a thousand years except for the height of the
ancient oak trees and the distant hum of the M25 sounding the encroachment of
modern humanity. Dense hedgerows are bursting with blackberries, rosehip,
beech, ferns, holly and gorse. This wilderness is so close to London
and if you glance up to the left as you approach Kent by car just after the Clacket's
Lane services station on the M25, that is where we are.
Just west of Joelands
Wood there is a conveniently placed seat fashioned from rough logs and after
sharing a cheese sandwich with Romney he enjoys a sudden spontaneous ecstatic
moment, writhing in the wet grass like a love sick puppy rather than a
corpulent eleven year-old dog with chronic flatulence.
We leave the trackway
after our sandwich and ecstatic moment and head north to try and make a circuit
and follow a new sign that says Berry Green Circular Walk. This has been
created by Bromley Council as a 7.5 mile walk starting at Cudham
recreation ground. Tempted by the smart newsign, I realise we have left
the North Downs Way a little too early and we pass an ostentatious newly built
manor house and proceed over Grays Road into the curiously named Bombers Lane.
The lane peters put into an attractive public footpath that proceeds through
rolling woodland and fields to the Tally Ho pub.
Pubs always form part
of the walking itinerary these days because they allow the old dog
to have a well earned rest and the old walker to enjoy a decent
Kentish ale which in this case was a superb Larkins Tradtional ale from the
local brewery located at Chiddingstone. Only 3.4% ABV so no risk of a
serious navigational failure on the homeward leg but it's a lovely smooth tawny
treat all the same, nicely augmented by a bag of cheese and onion crisps. We
are close to Chevening but there is probably little chance of meeting the
Foreign Secretary holding court at the bar of the Tally
Ho despite their good reputation for seafood. Instead a retired lady reads out
extracts from this week's Sevenoaks Chronicle to her husband and discusses
property prices in Cornwall with the landlord.
" A man tried a
lure a schoolgirl into his car near Borough Green." she tells her husband
and "Blimey, that Martin Clunes is looking his age."
Romney sleeps
peacefully on the faded floral carpet, which given its age, could also have
been designed by Inigo Jones, while I enjoy the ale and the unpretentious
ambience before we head off down the Knockholt Road and back towards Chevening.