When I woke up, I still hadn’t really finalised my new plan. When I developed my original plan, it was to walk around The Naze (a headland), come back into Walton on the Naze maybe for breakfast and finish in Clacton for the train home. It was only about 22 km, but there was obvious transport further on, and it gave the oppertunity to see if I  could meet up with a friend. Unfortunately, meeting my friend didn’t pan out, and if I forgot about walking around The Naze (what is it anyway), I could reach the Brightlingsea ferry. I needed to book the ferry (£5 pay on-line), and thought if i jumped out of bed at that moment I could catch the 12:05 ferry (after a 25 km walk). Look at futher connections, there appeared to be a local bus into Colchester from Mersea Island, to complete the plan. I decided on a slower approach and planned for the 2:05 ferry. This meant I left Walton in a fine morning at 7:30 am, rather than at 6:30 in the dark.

I’d been staying at the Royal Albion, a rather run down pub, but the rooms were really nice and well equipped. It struck me that its a business hanging on by its shoes laces, which is a bit of a shame. The pub shut at 7pm, hence the deadline yesterday.

It was a nice walk along the promenade, it was very chilled and relaxed. A few people walking dogs on the beach, the occasional swimmer and thousands of beach huts. I don’t think I’ve seen so many, there must be one for every person in Essex!

I stayed on the seafront and passed through Frinton without really realising it. There is a nice gap between Frinton and Clacton. That said, as I approached Clacton, literally everyone wished me “good morning” or other pleasantries. This was a stark contrast to the western side of Clacton, where literally nobody did, and looked back strangely if I uttered a greeting. It is a town of two halfs as I would find out later.

It had been 11 km into Clacton and I felt it was the right time for breakfast. I rather assumed it would be the centre of the universe in terms of a Full English Breakfast. I didn’t see a single suitable establishment and ended up in McDonalds. The main benefit is that it was quick and comfortable.

From the town centre heading west things really changed. There was more on street (rather on promenade) drinking and things started to look more run down. One surprising observation was a dedicated cycleway, lit by street lights powered by both wind and solar. That didn’t seem very “Reform” to me, much more of a Green Party type initiative.

On the subject of Reform, I was heading towards Jaywick which is always cited as one of the most deprived areas in the country and one of the reasons Reform has thrived here. I was flabbergasted when I reached Jaywick. It is the closest to a shanty town as I have seen in Britain. Derelict huts next to inhabited ones, felted roofs and just an air of despondency. There seemed to be people living in the sand dunes, or at least hanging around in them, and people with apparently nothing to do. It’s pretty bad.

When I thought it couldn’t get worse I came across, what is called Bel-air Chalet Village and looks like a holiday camp but with the chalets now individual homes. It didn’t look like very satisfactory accomodation and you can just imagine how much insulation was put into these when they were built.

All this was a bit of an eye-opener, but from here the route returned to nice quiet walking along the bund of the sea defence. Very much like the Isle of Portland, another deprived area I’ve walked through, they are both located in a rather beautiful part of the world and I hope the residents can enjoy that. I headed towards Lee-over-sands, which had (to me) a rather nordic feel and reminded me a little of cycling into Grindavik in Iceland.

On the map there didn’t seem to be a direct public footpath into Point Clear, where the ferry leaves from. I had done some research, and while the Ordnance Survey App routed me directly, I was a bit suspicious. I find a good guide is the Strava Heat Maps, which show where people have been exercising, and sure enough there were some nice thick lines. This saved a long detour and in actual fact there is a well developed path and fence. I have no idea why it is not marked as a right of way.

I had a little time to wait for the ferry, and was hoping for a beer in the Ferry Boat Inn. Unfortunately it was closed, and had been for two years as the roof needs repairing. I bought a couple of cold drinks (yes, these were genuinely “cold drinks”) from a strange shop called Aladdins Cave and found the ferry “port”.

This turned out to be at the end of a remote spit of land, right out in the estuary. I had about 45 minutes to wait, so sat in the sand, drank one of my drinks, ate some crisps and biscuits (its all I had), and watched the boats go by. I tried to spot the ferry in Brightlingsea, where it would come from, and when there was no activity 10 minutes after it’s due time I had to ring the harbour master. The ferry was dispatched immediately. It turns out I was the only booking all day, but I’m not sure why they forgot about me. As usual, I was a bit time constrained as I was hoping to catch a 15:35 bus, which was a 7 km walk from the ferry, so the 14:05 ferry being 10 – 15 minutes late was a pain.

It was a great crossing, across a really wide stretch of the river. The ferryman said the tide was really running out fast, and resulted in a impromptu 360° turn as we left Point Clear, and aiming far upstream as we crossed. The landing point was on another isolated spit, only marked with a flag. From here there was a fair bit of walking on shingle and beaches. It was quite nice, but not what I needed with the time constraints of the bus.

Initially, Mersea Island had an isolated nature reserve feel. In fact, I was greeted by a flock of little birds (I wish I knew what they were) flying across my path, banking and wheeling right in front of me. However, it soon reverted to caravan parks, initially small ones away from the sea but eventually it was back to walking in front of a big site butting straight up to the sea. The coast path turned inland right by the caravan site club house. It seemed that there was a wake being held, mainly because of a lot of somber suits, but the path took me up to a small church, which was surrounded by the caravan site, where definitely a wedding was taking place.

Finally, the coast path headed across fields, inland but parallel to the coast. I ignored when the path pointed back to the shore, and instead got to an isolated bus stop with about 10 minutes to spare. It would have been a three hour wait if I missed this bus.

My walking wasn’t over as the 55 bus terminated on the south side of Colchester, and it was at least a 20 minute walk to the main station. By the end of the day, after transiting through London, I’d walked 44,000 steps! It had been two hard days starting the Essex Coast, but it has been worthwhile. Especially clearing the Brightlingsea Ferry with out the need to come back next week before the ferry finishes for the season. I’m quite busy for the next few weeks (including some international walking that I may blog about), so I’m unlikely to get back to Essex until late October. I’ll be travelling up through London, so if anyone fancies a walk – let me know.