Day 139 – Tollesbury to Heybridge Basin: 14.3m: 5.1h

We’re up at 7 o’clock for breakfast which is being prepared by the hotel manager. She’s particularly happy to see us at such an early hour because she’s working on her own and says that she has to cater for a table of 16 in about an hour’s time. This comes as something of a surprise because we didn’t notice too many other people yesterday evening, and we’ve finished our full English, checked out and are back in a cab before anyone else appears.

We’ve filled our water bottles before leaving, but it’s likely to be another warm day so we call in at a supermarket on the outskirts of Maldon to acquire extras. Suitably provisioned (and attired) we are returned to Tollesbury and we set off from the Sailing Club just after 8:30 in conditions which are far more favourable than those encountered yesterday – both overhead and underfoot. The weather is again dry, but it’s also brighter and less muggy, and the coast path around Tollesbury Wick turns out to be pretty well maintained. We’re therefore able to maintain a comfortable pace and to take in our surroundings as we reach the easterly end of the Wick, turn, and continue back westward along the north bank of the River Blackwater. The route then sticks pretty much to the river bank with views along the water towards Maldon, and across it to Bradwell and St Lawrence.

After an uneventful and enjoyable couple of hours, the path turns inland on a few occasions so that we can get round or over some river inlets. One of these takes us past the Goldhanger Sailing Club which is the first occupied building we’ve seen since leaving Tollesbury, but it’s not long before we encounter many others in the Osea Leisure Park. Immediately outside the eastern end of the Park near Decoy Point is a path leading into the river, and beneath the surface of the water, it’s possible to make out the line of a causeway which, at low tide, is the route out towards Osea Island. Beyond the Leisure Park, we pass a Marine Club, a caravan park and several sailing clubs as we approach Heybridge Basin where the Chelmer and Blackwater Navigation Canal enters the river via a couple of lock gates. It’s here, shortly after 1:30, that we end today’s walk and start the process of obtaining drinks at the Old Ship. This involves finding an outside table, with somebody joining a queue at the pub door and, when at the front, placing an order, waiting for that to be taken to the bar and for a card machine to be brought out for payment to be made, and finally having the order brought to the table. It’s the palaver at the door which takes up most of the time. Once the order has been placed, it isn’t too long before the drinks arrive, swiftly followed by bacon and brie baked potatoes (baguettes not being available) for the Harkness contingent. Our table is alongside the lock, and watching the gates open and close to allow four boats to enter from the canal and exit into the Blackwater is strangely addictive. We also have the time to get a second round of drinks before our pre-ordered cab arrives on schedule to take us to Witham station. David waits there for a northbound train to reunite him with his car at Colchester, whilst the rest of us take a service to Liverpool Street from where Mike and John travel to King’s Cross and Paddington for their trains back to Newark and Kingham.            

Day 138 – West Mersea to Tollesbury: 18.6m: 7.5h

John has caught the early morning train from Kingham to Paddington. He joins Ben and Gary at Liverpool Street for the 9:30 to Colchester where Mike is waiting (having adopted a very snappy route from Newark via Peterborough and Stowmarket) along with David who is joining us for the next couple of days and has simply driven to Colchester and parked his car there. Also waiting is our cab which takes us back to West Mersea, and we set off from outside the Coast Inn shortly before 11 o’clock.

We’ve been fearing the worst weather-wise for the past week, and even today rain is forecast with sufficient certainty that flood warnings have been issued. Therefore, although it’s dry and there are no threatening clouds immediately in evidence, most of us are – somewhat pessimistically – wearing overtrousers and jackets. We make good progress during the first hour around the north-west shore of Mersea Island and over the causeway back to the mainland. We then turn right off the road having decided to take an indirect route to Peldon so as to avoid walking along the B1025 – a diversion which proves to be not only off piste but also overgrown. Our pace slows considerably because of this and also because the weather is becoming warmer and distinctly muggy. Some layers are removed, but the difficult underfoot conditions continue beyond Peldon, and in fact deteriorate when we approach Salcott 90 minutes later and have to practically hack our way along the side of a field with no discernible path in order to reach a farm on the edge of the village. Two men at the farm are able to assist in explaining why a path across the field hasn’t been maintained (“it belongs to the council”) but unfortunately can’t assist in replenishing our low to non-existent water supplies, which is becoming of particular concern to a heavily perspiring Gary who has, rather stupidly, not yet removed his overtrousers. This rather simple expedient to avoid overheating is belatedly adopted 10 minutes later outside the house of a local resident who kindly refills our water bottles. But by now the damage has been done and, whilst the green screens are not required, Gary’s condition is such that, as well as rehydration, it’s necessary for John to carry his rucksack to assist recovery. There is also a hat retrieval point, but no need to protract the story save to say that, 45 minutes later, as we start to walk around Old Hall Marshes, recovery has been achieved and the rucksack has been returned to the shoulders of its rightful carrier.

As with much of the previous 11 miles, most of the 7 miles or so around the marshes are along overgrown paths, and these have the added problem of a particularly prolific and clinging type of vegetation which an app on Mike’s phone identifies (with perhaps questionable reliability) as beet. This means not only that our pace continues to be slow – by now we’re averaging less than 2.5 mph – but also that any scenic attractions along the route aren’t readily appreciable because we’re having continually to focus on what’s a couple of yards in front of us. But eventually, around Old Hall Marsh Farm, the path becomes clearer with just a mile and a half to go which we complete in a far more creditable 30 minutes, arriving at the Tollesbury Sailing Club just after 6:20.

A slightly delayed cab gets us to our overnight stop, the Blue Boar in Maldon, around 7 o’clock and, whilst we’re having arrival beers/ciders at a table under a canopy  outside the bar, the forecast rain starts to fall. It’s not heavy, but it’s enough to prompt discussion about our eating plans. We intended to get takeaway fish and chips which the Blue Boar has told us can be brought back and eaten at our canopy covered table. We had hoped to get the takeaway from the neighbouring Friendly Frier, but that was closed when we passed it in the cab. The prospect of walking 10 minutes in the rain to the closest alternative, the Fish Inn, appeals to nobody. David provides the high-tech solution by downloading the JustEat app and ordering a delivery for arrival after we’ve been to our rooms to freshen up. And it all works very efficiently. The food arrives about 20 minutes after we’ve reconvened, almost finished another round of beers/ciders, and ordered a couple of bottles of wine having been told by the young woman at the bar that she’ll be shutting up shop at 9 o’clock. We stay at our outside table for half an hour or so after this, finishing our drinks and disposing of the considerable amount of detritus resulting from the Fish Inn’s very liberal interpretation of “small” chips. Somewhat weary and somewhat later than our usual bedtime, we then wander around the outside of the bar to reach a courtyard and the door leading to our rooms.      

Day 137 – Clacton-on-Sea to West Mersea: 16.0m: 5.4h

The first part of our walk today is to Point Clear on Brightlingsea Creek from where we’re planning to catch a ferry over the River Colne to East Mersea. Apparently, the ferry only runs every couple of hours and we’re aiming for one that leaves at 12:05. The walk to Point Clear is 9 miles or so which shouldn’t take much longer than 3 hours. However, this assumes that we’re able to use a path through a farm near St Osyth and, if this isn’t the case, a diversion will be required which will add at least a mile to the walk. We therefore want to be on our way by 8 o’clock and have booked breakfast for 6:45. Full English is duly available – with Mike incorporating beans in his order, having succumbed to their temptations over the weekend. The Premier Inn has served us well. Clean, comfortable and good value.

We get back down to the sea front and set off soon after 7:45. The weather forecast is for more favourable conditions than yesterday, but the rain is falling as we continue along the coast, past Clacton’s golf course which looks a lot more interesting than Frinton’s, and through Jaywick. We pass more beach huts, a holiday park and a Martello tower, before having to turn inland after about 90 minutes walking to avoid a network of creeks to the south of Point Clear. The rain has now stopped, and the smells as we get further around a long curving grass embankment confirm that the buildings which we can see ahead of us comprise the sewage plant on the approach to St Osyth. For some reason, our pace increases slightly as we walk alongside this, and then leave the embankment onto a narrow track which joins a road leading to the potential farm diversion. As it transpires, there is a path through the farm although, when we’ve walked along this, we see a sign stating that it’s for the use of people staying at the Lee Wick Farm Cottages and Glamping site. Not sure that we’d have been able to pass ourselves off as glampers, but too late now so we continue to the road between St Osyth and Point Clear.        

Not having been delayed by diversions, we’re going to reach Point Clear an hour before our ferry time, and a call to the ferry office confirms that there isn’t a service to East Mersea before 12:05. So on our arrival at Point Clear shortly after 11 o’clock, we while away 15 minutes of our time establishing exactly where to board the ferry (there’s no indication on the shoreline but it proves to be at the end of a narrow spit which stretches about 100 yards into the River Colne) and then finding an alternative refreshment provider to the Ferry Boat Inn which doesn’t open until noon. The only contender is a tea room run by the very friendly Tracy, which is perfectly acceptable to all – notwithstanding Ben’s aversion to the very concept of a tea room. He resolves this conundrum by eschewing toasted teacakes to accompany his pot of tea and eliciting from Tracy the offer of a sausage sandwich prepared from what remains of her earlier breakfast service. To be fair, if the rest of us had been aware of this off menu option, we probably wouldn’t have been so swift in ordering our toasted teacakes.

Duly revived, we return to the end of the spit, and the ferry comes over from Brightlingsea on schedule. It’s a small, flat bottomed vessel which doesn’t encounter the problems of the Harwich ferry in coming right up to the shingle to collect us, but the crossing to East Mersea is calm and takes not much more than 5 minutes. We now have just over 6 miles to walk along the south side of Mersea Island. We start by crossing some low lying dunes, then there’s a bit of beach action and paths through yet more beach huts, and we finish along a series of lanes (initially passing the Mersea Vineyard) to reach the Coast Inn at West Mersea at 2:15. We sit outside and, in the 45 minutes available before our cab is due to arrive, ease our way through just the one pint each and share an order of chips. And although the cab is delayed a few minutes, there’s still ample time to get to Colchester station where Mike collects his car and the rest of us await the 16:01 to Liverpool Street.                     

Day 136 – Kirby le Soken to Clacton-on-Sea: 16.1m: 5.5h

Lifting of COVID restrictions has been postponed to 19 July, but we weren’t intending to go clubbing in Clacton tonight so the effect of this on the current trip falls into the minimal to non-existent category.

John has spent the weekend with his father again, but Helen has driven back to Cheltenham this morning, leaving John at Witham where he joins Ben and Gary on a Clacton bound train from Liverpool Street. Mike has also been visiting relatives in Essex and joins at Colchester where he has parked his car for collection tomorrow afternoon. We change trains at Thorpe le Soken for the 5 minute onward journey to Kirby Cross and, having donned our wet weather gear, alight into the rain which has been forecast to be with us for the whole day. It’s a 30 minute walk to reach our finishing point on the last trip, and we set off from there just before 11:15.

The first hour is slow going. The embankment track which continues along the south side of the Nature Reserve towards the marina at Walton-on-the-Naze is overgrown and somewhat reminiscent of our initial route out of Snape Maltings last October. Today, we don’t end up on a spit of land with water on three sides of us, but we do arrive at a point where a quite fast running stream is cutting through the embankment with no apparent means of crossing it. We therefore have to spend 5 minutes retracing our steps to a lane which takes us to a B road leading into Walton to the south of the marina. We find our way along a path at the back of a row of houses onto the west side of the Naze itself where, once again, the raised path is considerably overgrown, so we descend to a track on the inside of the embankment. Not only is this reasonably well defined, but it also provides some shelter from an ever freshening wind. It takes us about 90 minutes to complete our journey around the Naze and arrive at the Naze Tower towards its south eastern end. The wind is strengthening and, although it’s now behind us and the rain is easing, we are feeling a bit weary and take the opportunity to stop at a mobile snack bar in front of the tower for some shelter, sausage rolls and coffees. Their restorative effect is pretty apparent when we leave 15 minutes or so later and pick up our pace along the Walton sea front. This leads us past Walton Pier which looks somewhat rundown but which subsequent research has established is, at over half a mile long, by far the longest pier in the UK going out into the open sea. Beyond Walton, we come across what looks like a shanty town of beach huts – not just a line of them, but several rows rising up a slope from the promenade. Beach huts in fact become a defining feature of this couple of days: we seem to go past huge clusters of them at regular intervals. We get a bit of beach action on the approach to Frinton which includes the sight of some kite surfers taking full advantage of the wind – and very impressively too. The wind seems to be causing more problems for a few hardy souls on Frinton Golf Course. From the sea front, it looks like a very flat, narrow, “out and back” course, so it comes as a surprise to discover later that it was designed by the twice Open champion, Willie Park Jnr, and that the club professional in the 50’s/60’s was another Open Champion from way back (1923), Arthur Havers. Books and covers spring to mind.

We pass by Holland-on-Sea and arrive at the pier in Clacton (a bit less dilapidated than its Frinton counterpart) shortly after 5 o’clock and with our average walking pace after our break at the Naze Tower having increased to 3.2 mph (from 2.7 before the break). We’re staying at the Premier Inn on Marine Parade overlooking the pier but, before checking in, the Moon & Starfish, a Wetherspoon establishment a mere 100 yards away from the hotel, simply cannot be ignored. And it simply cannot be criticised for being overpriced – two pints of cider and two pints of Abbot clocking in at less than £10. On leaving, we spot Charnallies, an American restaurant and bar where we have a reservation to eat later. A quick look at the menu results in a brief discussion about possible alternatives, but we decide to go with what’s already been planned and so, following hotel check-in and very welcome baths/showers, we’re back there at 7 o’clock. For once, we don’t go for the fish and chips option. It features on the menu as a special, and it seems more appropriate at an American restaurant to go for the burgers which prove to be substantial and tasty. They are preceded by a bottle of white and accompanied by two bottles of red, and views of the street which result in Clacton securing a place in the Chipperville stakes. All in all we’re pretty happy that we stuck with our (or, more accurately, John’s) choice of eatery. Back at the Premier Inn, stickies are available at Wetherspoonesque prices, and doubles all round are the precursor to a good night’s sleep for all.            

Day 135 – Harwich to Kirby le Soken: 15.0m: 5.5h

The Fryatt does not provide a cooked breakfast, and we were informed on check-in that their continental offering would be supplied in paper bags which would be left outside our doors at 7 a.m. When we reconvene shortly after 7:30 (Ben slightly late) for the drive back into Harwich, it’s not clear who has got the better out of this deal: Ben, Gary, John and Helen whose paper bags contained a not particularly fresh croissant, a mini jar of jam, and a small box of cereal with a cardboard bowl and some UHT milk, or Mike who didn’t get anything – there being no evidence of a paper bag when he opened his room door. Anyway, it’s clear that we’ll all need something more substantial during the morning, and equally clear when Helen drops us off around 7:45 that it’s unlikely to be acquired any time soon in Harwich. Helen therefore has to add this to her admin for the morning which is to drive to The Ship pub in Kirby le Soken (our destination today) to pick up John’s brother David and bring him to a pre-arranged meeting place along our route – hopefully around our ETA – so that he can join us on the remainder of our walk to The Ship. What could possibly go wrong?

There’s rain in the air again as we leave the quayside opposite the Pier Hotel. It’s only 5 or 6 miles to Kirby le Soken as the crow flies, but we can only be crows for the first couple of miles or so, along the sea front to the south of Harwich, before we have to divert inland towards Little Oakley and follow a series of paths, grass tracks and embankments, and a couple of quite busy minor roads, to get around the Hamford Water Nature Reserve. We’re somewhat relieved to leave the first stretch of road (no footpaths and heavy traffic – but at least the rain’s stopped) at a point to the south of Little Oakley which is where we’re due to meet Helen and David. Unfortunately, Helen’s still at Kirby le Soken waiting for David, so John suggests that the other three of us should carry on and hopefully he and David will be able to catch us up.

These hopes are realised, in part because Mike, Ben and Gary take a diversion to reduce the amount of time spent on the second stretch of road near a place called Beaumont, and we’re reunited just before we reach the south side of the Nature Reserve at Landermere Wharf. Hopes are also realised on the sustenance front – sausage rolls are available which Helen has managed to acquire. She is now on her way back to Kirby le Soken – a journey of around 10 minutes in the car. On foot, following the embankment which snakes alongside the Nature Reserve, it takes us just under 2 hours and we arrive at The Ship soon after 1:30. Plenty of time for a couple of drinks and sandwiches before saying farewell to David, and driving to Colchester station. John and Helen drop the rest of us there, and Mike accompanies Ben and Gary back to Liverpool Street to catch a train to Newark from King’s Cross. The date of our next trip, 21 July, is the date on which all remaining COVID related restrictions are due to be lifted. Watch this space…….

Day 134 – Butley Ferry to Harwich: 15.3m: 5.3h

COVID related restrictions have continued in force since last October. Games in the football season – along with other sporting events – have largely taken place behind closed doors. Restrictions on travel and mixing of households meant that Christmas was effectively cancelled, and a limited relaxation of rules relating to pubs, restaurants and hotels only came into effect a week ago. So resumption of the walk has only been possible (or practicable) during the last few days.

As on the final walk of last year, John has driven with Helen to see his father in Essex over the weekend. We therefore have a car available not only to carry our overnight luggage again, but also to be called upon in the event that one or both of the two ferries which we are planning to use today isn’t running. This had been a distinct possibility due to recent high winds, but the weather is now more promising. Certainly, a lot calmer – and also drier. Almost constant rain during the last couple of weeks resulted in the prediction that this would prove to be the wettest May since records began. But the forecast for the coming days is for only a few scattered showers.

It is indeed dry when Ben and Gary arrive at Ipswich station shortly after 10 o’clock (25 minutes later than scheduled due to points failure at Liverpool Street) and meet up with John and Helen, and Mike who has not encountered any delays on his journey from Newark. Helen drives us to Butley and leaves us at the end of a track which leads to a grass embankment by the ferry landing on the west side of the river from which we resume our walk around 11:15. We follow the embankment in a south easterly direction and then, at the confluence of the Butley and Ore rivers, turn south alongside the Ore. Just beyond the mouth of the Ore, with the southern tip of Orford Ness to our left, we encounter a short, sharp shower which, fortunately, proves to be the only one of the day. It is, however, sufficiently sharp that we get out our wet weather gear, albeit sufficiently short that it stops only a few minutes after we’ve struggled into the gear. We go through the hamlet of Shingle Street (very aptly named) and continue along the coast past a series of Martello Towers, constructed at a time (early 19^th century) when Britain was concerned about a possible invasion by Napoleon. Around Bawdsey, we move slightly inland to a road leading to our first ferry of the day across the River Deben to Felixstowe. We’re almost certain that it will be operating, but we don’t want to be waiting for too long in case it puts us behind schedule for our second ferry over the Orwell and Stour to Harwich, so John phones the ferry office to check departure times. It transpires that there’s no timetable and that, if the ferry is on the Felixstowe side of the Deben when we arrive, we simply wave a paddle to summon it over to Bawdsey. That, indeed, is what proves to be necessary, and the short time which elapses between paddle waving and disembarking just outside Felixstowe (just under 10 minutes) alleviates any concerns about catching the ferry to Harwich. Despite this, and the fact that we’ve arranged a “private crossing” for 5:30 (an hour later than the last scheduled crossing of the day) we phone that ferry office as well to say that we’re on our way and should arrive by 5 o’clock. We’re told that the ferry will be there at 4:30 and will return for us immediately after the last crossing or wait for us if there are no customers.

All we really know about Felixstowe is that it’s the largest container port in the UK. Therefore, to see how attractive the northern approaches to the town are, comes as something of a surprise. Felixstowe Ferry golf club looks very well tended, as do the sea front gardens overlooking a beach with a series of stone groynes which appear to be of practically uniform construction. The container terminal only comes into view as we round the headland to the south of the town to reach the point where our ferry is waiting. There is no landing stage and it takes the ferryman three attempts to get to a point sufficiently close to the shore that the gangway from the boat will reach the shingle where we’re standing. However eventually we get aboard and cross over to Essex , arriving in Harwich shortly after 5. We immediately repair to the bar of the Pier Hotel on the quayside. Helen has already checked in at our overnight stop, the Fryatt in Parkeston which is a couple of miles away. She’s kindly agreed to collect us from the ferry so we phone to let her know of our arrival – and also to take her drinks order. A couple of beers later, we set off for the Fryatt, but not before Helen has expressed one or two doubts about whether we should have our supper there. Those doubts are shared by the rest of us when we check in. The rooms are comfortable and clean, and the showers are very efficient, but the menu is limited – to put it mildly – and there’s no evidence of any staff other than a young guy behind the bar. We therefore make a reservation back in Harwich at the Samuel Pepys pub and, after freshening up, leave the Fryatt at 7:30 which gives Ben the time to squeeze in a pint of Guinness.

It's a pretty good supper (just a main course) and three things in particular bear noting. First, the surprising difficulty encountered by John, Helen, Mike and Gary in responding to Ben’s request to name the men who have captained the England RU team during the 21^st century. Secondly, the equally surprising difficulty encountered by Ben in paying for the meal (three attempts with his debit card which all fail). And finally the surprising apparent ease with which John resists drinking any wine with the meal, having decided to take over the driving duties from Helen for the return journey to the Fryatt. However, stickies in the bar when we get back provide some measure of compensation.