Mud Glorious Mud this walk certainly turns into!

Our adventure commences in Hastings early in the morning where we park in the Old Town and meet Heather for a lift to Rye Harbour.

Having wrapped up with lots of warm layers we set off on the long straight hard path alongside the beach through Rye Harbour Nature Reserve. The sun is trying very hard to break through the clouds and even brings us a slight rainbow. The first half of today’s meander along the coast is flat flat flat…

The groins at Winchelsea Beach and Pett Level have always been a source of intrigue to me – why do they run horizontal along the beach? Oh well, the clouds have now parted a little lending a wonderful light over the beach at low tide – perfect for some atmospheric photos.

We have heard about an intriguing food stop en-route which we discover on the other side of the sea wall at Winchelsea. The Red Pig is a converted old railway carriage pulled into position each day. We venture inside and find a cosy corner just as the rain comes down. My bagel is served toasted with fried prosciutto ham, cream cheese, black pepper and a squeeze of lime juice mmm

As the rain stops we leave the warmth and shelter of The Red Pig to wander along Pett Level beach admiring an intriguing array of dramatic dwellings facing the seafront. As we climb the pathway leading up on to the cliffs we meet a couple who warn us of the mud!! Oh my we had no idea what was in store!

Selecting a fallen cone from one of the stunning pine trees along the way we stop to enjoy the view from the cliff top looking back towards Dungeness before setting off towards Fairlight. We detour through the edge of the village along residential streets before popping out onto the Fire Hills.

We hadn’t walked these hills for many many years – since flying kites was the thing to do on a lazy Sunday afternoon! Although somewhat smaller than I remembered The Fire Hills still have a heath like unkempt raggedness to them which is very endearing. As we follow the path along the edge of the cliff towards Hastings it gets muddier and muddier – I guess the wet winter hasn’t had a chance to dry out yet as it’s only February. It is sticky, un-relentless and precarious as we we go up and down the many hills.

Although disappointed to have to wander away from the Cliffside due to landslides at Ecclestone Glen it is somewhat of a relief to be walking on solid ground again. At the beacon on Hastings East Hill we stop to admire the familiar yet always breath-taking view of Nigel’s home town of Hastings.

Sadly the funicular railway isn’t in use today, although maybe that would have been cheating – not sure about the rules of my coastal ramble? So we descend the many steps into The Old Town of Hastings, popping out beside Ye Olde Pumphouse, George Street – yet another place we have whiled away a lazy Sunday afternoon!