I remember walking down the hill to the station at Stanford last October – with tired aching feet. This morning I’m walking up the hill from the station to the church and there’s a bounce in my stride.

I have the afternoon to fill a gap so I take the train to Shoeburyness, knowing that I will not be able to follow the coast due to military restrictions. One of three passengers on this grey day, I leave the train and walk northwards into town in the direction of the Wakerings.

This will be a short walk as I don’t have the whole day. It is raining in short heavy bursts as I follow the footpath that runs off Tinkers Lane on the way out of Rochford. Walking over a muddy field I get slightly lost, until a dog walker points me in the direction of Sutton Church and the incongruous sight of a single gauge railway snaking away into the distance.

I wake up in Burnham to a grey drizzle and walking gingerly down the slippery, mossy slipway I stand and wait for the ferry which will take me over the river. From the marina on the other side I can pick up the Roach Valley Way which will lead me on to Paglesham Creek.

Despite dire warnings of heavy rain I leave my B&B in Bradwell “Juxte Mare” under an overcast but dry sky. Feeling a little cowed by the lifeless nuclear power station, I walk briskly on, aware of the fact that I have a long day ahead of me.

It is a beautiful day when the bus deposits me outside the Maylandsea post office. I walk down to the sea wall and head off up the thumb of land that divides Lawling Creek on the left and Mayland Creek on the right – I walk past a silent sunken forest.

First walk of 2013 and I am excited and apprehensive, mostly as to whether my sore toe will hold up to the 12 miles I have planned.

An early morning bus takes me back to Tollesbury where I push an envelope containing £10 through the door of the closed teashop. On the other side of a gate is a board with information about Tollesbury Wick Marshes, the first part of today’s walk.

Returning to the Peldon Rose, I find myself alone in the breakfast room. Heading out into narrow lanes that take me through the Wigboroughs, dodging traffic and finding nowhere for a late morning cup of tea.

Coming out of the station a bright green flag with the words “Freshly Ground Coffee” calls to me from the bustling boot sale but I am late starting so I walk on. Twenty minutes later, after sighting a beautiful German gundog and the ruins of a castle on the hill to the right, I discover I have forgotten my camera – I will have to use the iPhone.