Today I had intended to travel during the more expensive peak time so that I had an early start. This was because I had to catch a bus from Chichetster to Selsey, and I had planned my longest day yet, at 36km, back to Fishbourne railway station. However, the night before I didn’t get home until past midnight due to delayed trains, and the ominous “person hit by train” message. I’d hung around on Reigate, Redhill, and Gatwick Stations trying to get home, and as such, I didn’t feel in any rush to get back on the railway. In my head, I thought, the days are getting longer (it is now pretty light at 5pm), and I would be fine catching the 9:09 the first off-peak train. Which is what I did. It should be said that my time in stations last night wasn’t wasted, as I found a huge mural of the North Downs Way (or Pilgrims Way) in Redhill Station. The picture showed how the railway links into the 153 mile walk. This sounds like a future project.

It was a beautiful morning as I walked to the station, the sky was blue and such a contrast to the grey days that have overcast my most recent walks. It was most refreshing and as this was the second to last day of january, it seemed to mark the end of those January Blues. I’m sure the weather will get bad again, but this was a really nice morning. Even my camera started taking brighter photos. I arrived in Chichester at 10:30, and a 51 bus passed just as I left the Railway Station, which was annoying. I went and sat at the Bus Station, awaiting the next bus (advertised as “every 15 minutes”), watching the comings and goings of the various buses. The information I collected here would prove to be very useful later today! Anyway, the next bus didn’t go until 11:05 (the sign should be changed to “every 35 mins or so”), and I didn’t get to Selsey Lifeboat Station to start my walk until well past 11:30. I didn’t give the late start too much thought but did suspect I would be finishing in the dark. I still felt confident as I had a head torch. The walk down the eastern side of Selsey Bill was invigorating, with a modest breeze, a high(ish) tide, and waves breaking over the sea wall. It was great.

The route took me towards the headland, and then through a few houses until I was on the western side of the Bill. There was a completely new view, which feels like my first new view since rounding Beachy Head. I could see Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight on the horizon. Portsmouth looks very close, but I know there are a few days of wiggly coast path to get there.

From here on the path skirts a large caravan park. As a child we did go on holiday here in on a caravan at West Sands. I don’t remember too much of the location (like I don’t remember the huge windmill at the entrance), but plenty about the holidays. The most vivid memory is being caught in the great ladybird storm (the internet suggests this was 1976, and this video shows how terrible it was!!!), which was quite spectacular with huge swarms and nowhere to hide in a caravan. It was also when Cauliflower Cheese (from the Womens Institute) became my most disliked food, and my brother learnt how to pronounce “Panache” (pain-ache). I also remember seeing Selsey’s most famous resident, the astronomer Patrick Moore in the fish and chip shop. There is a most unusual statue commemorating him on the sea front.

While the caravan site is called West Sands, the beach is pure shingle, of a large grade which is very tiring walking. The tide was high, so there was no alternative route except to trudge along the difficult shingle in front of the caravans. They are very swanky, some with roof terraces and hot tubs, these are a long way from gas lighting, bringing water from a tap and walking to the toilets when we stayed here. There was no electricity. It didn’t really matter back then, as the lighting, cooking (and presumably fridge) were all gas. We didn’t really have anything electric (I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a TV) – I find it hard to imaging that world, where you don’t become faint at the thought of being away from an electrical socket for a few hours, never mind a week!

I was making good time and got to Medmerry Nature Reserve, which I hoped meant the end of the shingle by 12:30. This is where the path diverts inland around a large wetland, and according to the maps, a bombing range. It is nice how nature and bombing ranges get on so well – I guess it keeps the pesky humans out. Initially, the path followed behind a big bund, so there was no view of the marshland, but it was very wet, and I was glad that I had re-waterproofed my boots before this leg. Eventually the path got on top of the bund with good views of the marshes and farmland.

After grumbling about cameras last week, I did get my DSLR camera working. I’ve not used it for a few years (the phone camera is too easy), and it woudn’t switch on with freshly recharged batteries or new duracells. A bit of googling suggested that it might that the battery on the motherboard (CMOS) had failed, which would be difficult and expensive to resolve, but another suggested using lithium batteries. They worked a treat, and the camera is back working for less than £10. It is heavy to lug around with a telescopic lense, but I did get some reasonable shots, and I looked the part walking around the Nature Reserve.

It was almost 10 km around the Medmerry Nature Reserve, which was on good paths, and I had made good time. I had only brought three oat bars with me and was hoping to get to a cafe at the end of Wittering Beach for some lunch. It was open until 4, and I thought I could get there by around 3:00. However, it was begining to dawn on me that it would be around a total of 20km to the cafe, which left me 15km to finish at Fishbourne station. My plan was still just about workable, with 15km taking 3 hours I should finish by about 6:00 and wouldn’t need to walk too much in the dark. This plan was fine until I got back to the beach. The walking was on shingle banks made up large boulders, the tide was in, and there was no avoiding my slow drunken stumbling along the beach. It soon became clear that any timescales I had in my head were going to pot.

The first respite was Bracklesham Bay, where the route went through quiet streets for a while. I decided to stop at the first and only cafe (which I think had grander aspirations), just to find, at 2:30, that the kitchens had closed. This was a major disappointment, but I pushed on, fueled by an oat bar, towards The Witterings. This reminded me that I had seen buses this morning, heading to The Witterings, and I think I had found an escape route. I headed back to the shingle feeling renewed, and before long, the ebbing tide started to reveal nice easy sand. The final blast along the ever expanding beach was great.

The Witterings are really popular, there are huge expanses of car parking and I can only imagine what this must be like in the summer. I got to the (what was going to be my lunchtime) cafe at 3:30. The person in front of me ordered the last hot food before the kitchen closed. I had to settle with an americano and a slice of fruit cake. This is not perfect hiking food, but should at least get me the final few kms to the bus stop.

The coast path turned back inland, and I could see the islands and tribuatries that the path would skirt in and out of on the way to Portsmouth. With my early stop today, it is still two more days to get to Portsmouth.

I found the bus stop, which had a digital departure board, saying I had a 50 minute wait. This was a disspaointment, as it should have been earlier, but looking online one bus had been cancelled. I was waiting for a 52 bus, in the most likely direction to travel to Chichester, but the timetables showed a 53 bus slightly earlier, but not on the board. It was most confusing, especially when a 53 came in the opposite direction, and stopped 100 metres further down the road. I was too tired to run across, but I think there are two circular routes running in opposite directions – but I don’t really know. I’ll need to come back here next week, perhaps I can work it out by then!

Eventually I got to Chichester, to be greeted with more rail delays, and I should have changed trains at Hove, which wasn’t possible as the station lights had failed – unbelieveable! But who cares as this has been one of the nicest legs so far (right up there with the Seven Sisters), and there has been plenty of evidence that spring is coming.