Day 03 Gumber Bothy to Havant 38km

Got up nice and early, porridge, coffee and out walking by 8:00. It was raining so it was back on with the poncho, and my gaiters. This just left my knees to get wet, but seems a comfortable combination and is easy to regulate my temperature. It was just 100 metres to get back onto the Monarchs Way (and Stane Street) and good to look back at how remote Gumber Bothy is. It’s 1.5 miles from the nearest parking, and is clearly a deterrent for group bookings of groups and families – its nice, it’s what the YHA was many years ago.

Heading off into the rain (a heavy drizzle really) on an amazing path. Dead straight (being roman) but varying from big wide forest tracks to narrow paths. Most striking was the beech trees with their roots showing and walking on a carpet of beech nut shells.

The rain eased up so I stopped halfway up a big hill to take my poncho off and have a drink. I have found a failing with my new rucsac and water bottle holder compatability. The bottle is a tight fit, and easy to grab while walking but impossible to get back into place without taking the rucsac off, or at least a bit off one shoulder. It’s a bit of a pain. As I headed off I spotted another walker behind, and thought I’d soon be overtaken, but I managed to keep ahead to upto the highpoint of the day – The Trundle an Iron age hill fort overlooking Goodwood Racecourse. It was far from Glorious, very windy and a damp mist. Had a chat to the guy who had been following, who was scoping out D of E routes and I was pleased to share Gumber Bothy which would be ideal for camping.

Dropping down towards East Dean the area became more civilised, with dog walkers and even a coffee van, which I shunned. I was heading to West Dean, where the map professed there was a “convenience store”. The civilised feel continued, the shop had the best array of pasties and pies, as well a lots of marmalade and tea towels. Actually it was a really nice shop with many essentials as well, and card only, no cash!

I ate the pasty, and put a sausage roll in my pocket for later. The mud had been exhausting me, especially down around the chalk streams. The water was running really clear, but at very high levels. I passed a Southern Water tanker Pumping out the sewers as fast as they could. Its been a big problem for years, where the high water levels infiltrate into the sewers, which then overflow back into the rivers lower down. They have been sealing and replacing sewers for decades, but the water just gets in at the next weak spot, often the customers pipes who don’t like to be told to spend £’000s by their water company! There seemed to be a mini treatment plant in a container which looked like a cool solution.

I’d still not decided where I was going to stay tonight. My initial option was camping, but I had a nagging feeling it would be closed… the website was un-responsive and calls went unanswered. My second option, about 5km further, was to see about sleeping in a church (being a “pilgrim” has many benefits). A chance Google hit found me britishpilgrimage.org and a map of places that might give refuge. There is a saying “the Camino will provide” and that chance “Google” gave me the feeling it might be true. In the end I booked in a pub another 10km further to give me less to do tomorrow. 

I made this decision sat in a pub, the mobile data is shocking around these parts, and I only stopped for the WiFi (and a shandy). With my target set, I headed off for my last few kms on the Monarchs Way – I can’t rave enough about this trail. Once I left the main trail I was faced with lots of stiles. It had been gates all the way for two days and it was really hard to get my heavy rucsac and tired legs over so many stiles.

I got to Westbourne (where the church offering refuge was) and ate my sausage roll ready for a rather urban walk into Havant. Its really interesting, people seem to really want to chat when they see a tired, muddy backpacker appear. It’s really nice. A bit like being a touring cyclist, but all the time not just when you are stopped. I got to The Bear in Havant, a big creaky old pub. Its really nice these places still exist and haven’t been put out of business by the faceless Travel Inn type hotels. That said, trying to get my rucsac up three flights of narrow winding stairs, maybe there is something to be said about modern… no not really. I even managed to get a stamp in my passport, so all good!