Sun is forecast, so it’s down with the gardening tools and on with the backpack.
Leaving Rochford, along the grassy sea wall, there are birds everywhere, rising and falling, silhouetted against the sun reflecting off Paglesham Reach. I feel warm, but my hands freeze quickly when I remove my gloves to take photos.
A bright red digger, parked against mounds of white and cream gravel, catches my eye for a picture. On closer inspection, they are millions of tiny cockle shells.
The shells are crushed and used to surface a road winding round the field.
I’m intrigued by a fenced off area of man-made ponds and ask a passing dog walker. They are old oyster farms. His mother worked in the business, and at one time they employed 100 men, serving the House of Lords.
A WWII pillbox, one of several along the walk, is strategically placed at the junction of several waterways, with a commanding view of the approach up the River Roach. I climb on top. A perfect spot for my ritual Greggs jam doughnut for elevenses. A couple of walkers comment enviously, with their dog running round frantically at the base of the pillbox, hoping, in vain, for some crumbs.
I continue along the sea wall round Clements Marsh. The ground is firm and the grass short; how wonderful to be mud free. Only a few objects break the horizon, under a vast sky.
There is a smooth log seat at the mouth of Lion Creek, with a fine view down the River Crouch. A lovely spot for lunch. I have an overwhelming feeling of space, with gorgeous views in all directions. Just the land, the water, and the sky, with the occasional man-made structure or passing boat.
Brent geese have kept me company for most of the day. Rounding Landsend Point, I’m astonished to see hundreds of them, possibly a thousand, settled in the water, stretching along the near bank. I follow the path carefully, reaching a photographer who is also engrossed. He shows me a rare red-breasted goose among the flock. After a few minutes, there is a ripple across the flock, as they stir, launch across the water, and rise up in waves. They fly right over us, filling the air; we both start laughing.
Walking the coast, there are often moments of unexpected joy, followed shortly by new challenges. I am forced inland at South Fambridge, and the euphoria from the geese is replaced by a grim, busy road stretch. It winds sharply, with speeding traffic, and no verge in places. I squeeze into bushes to wait for a gap.
Thankfully, there is a branching path marked on my OS map next to Hockley Residential Park. I take it, only to be thwarted when it vanishes into a series of muddy waterways. I reluctantly return to the road of doom.
At Hullbridge, I get the chance to leave the verge hopping and head back down to the river. I have misjudged the length of the walk today, and it’s getting dark with me still a couple of miles from my destination.
To my dismay, I am forced back onto the road for the final section into Battlesbridge. It’s now dark, and I have my head torch on. The traffic has not eased and verges are sporadic. I actually start running in gaps in the traffic, finding the next safe spot to squeeze into. Apart from my sprint training, it’s been a beautiful day!
Walk distance: 24 miles.
Total distance: 1,451 miles.
The Essex coast was a surprise to me. Lots of salt marsh and estuaries of course and a lot of very flat but it was a quite beautiful coast and I was really surprised at how remote much of it felt (and indeed was) and little visited, especially given it’s proximity to London.
Very similar to North Kent, of course, where I started my walk. You don’t need towering cliffs to be beautiful.
Hi Tony, unfortunately you’ll find it becoming more common to have to walk along dangerous roads. I did an online ‘reccy’ using Streetview, to check for roads which have no verges for sections in this area. look for an alternative route, using OS maps for queiter roads and footpaths, even if it means going further inland or a longer distance. I met many ‘nutters’ on my trek around the coast.
Stay safe
Cheers Alan
I have used Streetview in the past to check for roadside walking. I just took off at short notice for this day trip. Lesson learned.