The track beside the river from Wivenhoe to the Quays at Colchester is an old friend, from the two summers I spent working at Essex University; the track on the other side of the Colne is not. Coming off the roadbridge I walk through an area of deserted warehouses but walking out of a bend I find myself facing a clutch of soldiers in desert fatigues.
Continue readingTrying to shake off the indigestible breakfast at the guest house I walk quickly away from the dubious pleasures of Clacton Pier, past the ubiquitous acres of caravans and bouncy castles, to the neglected house fronts of Jaywick.
Continue readingThe plan is to take advantage of a new bridge bypassing Sittingbourne and its arid industrial landscapes.
Continue readingFrom Teynham station past fields of fruit trees laden with fruit and on to the sailing boats of Conyer.
Continue readingAn early start in Faversham, down to the Creek in sunshine already hot. The path is easy to find through a boat yard strung with drying washing and out on to marshes and mud.
Continue readingI have a companion today, Sharon, a friend I’ve known from primary school in Wales. Out of touch for 20 years and now together again in London. Out of the station we hit the sea front earlier than I remembered from my walk to Birchington and before us are high chalky cliffs sweeping down to the familiar concrete promenade meandering into the distance.
Continue readingThe foot ferry to Harwich fights its way across the choppy water, the dark cranes of Felixstowe silhouetted against the grey sky. Narrow alleys lead to the deserted station of Harwich Town and a convoluted journey to Kirby.
Continue readingThrough fields and lanes to a path following the meanderings of the River Deben all the way to Bawdsey and the one man ferry across to Felixtowe.
Continue readingArriving late in Whitstable I scuttle around for provisions and a hat – it is going to be a very hot day and I will be walking into the sun.
Continue readingThe road past Derek Jarman’s poetic house at Dungeness leads us to the lighthouse, the grey fortifications of the power station, the old coastguard cottages and the endless shingle trudge across the nature reserve to Lydd.
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Joining the Dots 