North Downs Way: Day 8

Sixty-five lurks just round the corner, rubbing its hands and grinning, as I’m already losing the plot, dashing back to Wye station to retrieve my hiking pole, lying abandoned on the platform seat where I’d unfolded it from my backpack after leaving the train.

I rewalk the final two miles from Day 7, swishing through a sea of purple and white, scorpionweed and wild radish rejuvenating the soil.

The donkeys are not in the garden centre field this time, presumably sleeping somewhere cooler. An abandoned greenhouse, overrun with evil bindweed, pulses out waves of stifling heat when I peer in the open doorway.

Reaching the fork in the trail, I take the Pilgrims’ Way branch to Canterbury, passing All Saints’ Church in Boughton Aluph, where pilgrims are welcome to spend the night. Two old men rest on a bench against the wall, shaded from the sun. They wave. I’m tempted to join them à la Last of the Summer Wine.

I’m glad it’s a short walk today in the sweltering heat. The gentle miles slip past in pleasant scenery.

The Coppice Oratory sculpture, made from nearby coppiced chestnut, offers a resting place for pilgrims at the point where Canterbury Cathedral first becomes visible, albeit hazy in the distance.

There’s a long stretch of road into the attractive village of Chilham. I recognise the rather sinister carving from a previous family hike.

After an ascent to the curiously named Old Wives Lees village, another valley appears, so down and back up we go. Just as I’m dreaming of a shady bench at the top of the hill, my prayers are answered. Feel Our Voice by Kezia Cole, constructed in wood from recycled apple crates, is contoured “to mirror words spoken by local people, words that they would say to someone sitting on the bench whilst looking at the panoramic view of farmland, orchards, Farmhouses & Oast Houses, fruit crops, hop bines and the Stour Valley”. Sound waves, I assume?

I needed some lighter coloured t-shirts for the Mont Blanc Trail.

Nickle Farm is the headquarters of Mansfields, Britain’s biggest grower of apples. The orchards spread over the hills in every direction, surrounding a static caravan site for the fruit pickers. What are the working conditions like?

Someone is so keen to see me, I don’t have time to frame the shot properly.

No Man’s Orchard lies at the boundary of Chartham and Harbledown parishes, lovingly cared for by the local community, with an information board mapping out every tree, whether living, dead, or newly planted.

Danger is never far from apples and paradise.

Arriving at Canterbury, it’s heaving with visitors. It seems at odds with the peaceful journey, brash and commercial. I’m not keen to linger.

I take refuge in The Foundry, a fine craft brewery off the busy main street, before venturing back into the throng outside the Cathedral, but I’m not interested enough to pay £20 to see inside. I pick up a sandwich and bottle of orange juice for the train journey home, inevitably dozing off after the exertions, heat and beer.

Dates of walk: Friday 10 July 2026.

Walk distance: 13 miles.