I return to the Dirty Habit, where mischievous monks and naughty nuns have marked their passing on the Pilgrims’ Way.
The trail is flat today, so there’s no need for hiking poles, although other paths branch off frequently into the surrounding hills.
Brother Percival takes a breather at Harrietsham, where “young pilgrims would marry and honeymoon in the old tower of the church, not being released until the bill was paid in full.” Sound business practice.
The Lenham Cross, a First World War memorial, is carved into the chalk and had to be filled in temporarily during the Second World War to prevent it from being used as a navigation aid by the German Luftwaffe. It remains under aerial threat from two men flying a drone, using the base of the cross as a makeshift airstrip.
A curious alpaca monitors my progress and wins the staring contest.
What’s this? Barbed wire coils across a road barrier and along the top of a perimeter fence. I scramble up the bank for a closer look through the fence, watched warily by a passing jogger. It looks like a dormant chalk quarry. A tree trunk has fallen, creating a bridge over the fence. Why not? After a couple of steps, the trunk bounces up, and my right foot slips off, luckily landing between the barbed wire strands. Time for a strategic withdrawal.
We are in the middle of a heatwave, so I’m tempted to cool down in the outdoor infinity pool.
Two miles short of Wye, the trail divides, offering two different routes to Dover. I’ve not decided whether I will walk them both, but I’ll begin with the cathedral route via Canterbury rather than the coastal route via Folkestone, which of course I’ve hiked before.
The final stretch into Wye passes through a garden centre with visitor attractions.
Today seems like endless crossing of scorched wheat fields.
Next to Wye train station is a pretty bridge over the River Stour.
The riverbank on the far side of the bridge is busy with drinkers at the Tickled Trout. There are some fantastic pub names on this walk. A pint of golden Trout Pout, relaxing in the shade, as infants paddle in the cool water and a band sets up on stage to play. What better way to finish a sweltering day’s hike?
Dates of walk: Sunday 5 July 2026.
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Fortunate to have paths cut through crop fields. When they aren’t one has a dilemma: whether to plough through justified by your rights on a pub;ic footpath, or find an alternative. If you do the former it is wise to make sure you are exactly on the public right of way (GPS a godsend) before trashing the crops.
I normally keep to the edge of the fields if there’s no path, even if one is marked on the OS map, although I have been known to assert walkers’ rights to keep paths open. It probably depends on my frame of mind.