Wild Camping along the North Downs Way Section 7: Cuxton to Detling
Today’s the day, we get to cross that infamous river dividing the Men of Kent from the Kentish Men, and I’ve recently learned from local sources that the feud is still on. If not sure what I’m referring to, maybe have a quick stroll along section 5 before rejoining us in Cuxton, where today’s walk will commence. Or rather Rochester Forrest, just before Cuxton, where Ian and I decided to pitch our tents and rest our bones after the multitude of ups and downs day one had in store for us.
Speaking of ‘Downs’, a word that tends to baffle me when it comes to nature, usually having to walk them up before doing their name justice as you walk down the Downs and get to admire the views they tend to offer. Anyhow, as so often, chances are high it’s just me spending one too many thoughts on this semantic and topographical phenomenon. For the ones that suffer from similar curiosity levels, here a little snippet of wisdom before starting off the day. The term ‘Downs’ describing areas of chalkland which are a typical feature of southern England, is derived from the Old English word ‘dun’ which means ‘hill’, and those, you definitely walk up.
The Morning After
Now that that’s been cleared up, time to climb a few more ‘duns’ and make our way to Detling. Before we get going, let’s do a quick assessment of the aches and pains as well as supply levels — rookie mistake number two, or not so much a mistake but an oversight due to lacking experience. Unlike the lovely Lake District, water purification tablets won’t get you very far along the North Downs as natural water sources are a rare find, wherefore shopping stops will occasionally require you to leave the trail and walk a few extra miles after all.
Not too keen on the extra miles but definitely in need of more water and possibly some Ibuprofen as sleep did not fix the back pain my heavy backpack left me with the day before. It must have been pinching a nerve somewhere, and the discomfort weirdly travelled all the way down into my left leg, not fun, but as I’m typing this right now, you can rest assured that I did survive, with all limbs still intact.
In addition to thirst and leg pain, I woke up with a weird craving for a breakfast croissant. So yes, it was definitely time for a refuel stop in Cuxton before starting our journey to Detling, where Thurnham Castle would become our second camp site of the trip. With such goal in mind, we packed up our gear under the watchful eye of a local who did not appear to mind too much, despite throwing Ian a quizzical look when seeing him appear from the bushes. No further detail required I’m sure.
On we went, swiftly finishing off the last bit of section 7. Dean Farm was the first thing we passed by, presumably home to the morning walker possibly not being as surprised as we first thought — I’m sure those woods have witnessed more scandalous scenes than two dishevelled backpackers passing through in the morning.
Dean Farm nestles among fields and woods in a dry valley above the River Medway, its two ‘oast houses’ most likely being the first thing you’ll spot as you walk by, hopefully with a knowledgeable walking companion like myself who can tell you that those rather distinctive buildings featuring pyramidal or conical roofs were introduced in the 16th century for drying hops. To throw in a bit more vocabulary trivia, ‘oast’ goes back to the Old English word ‘ast’ meaning fire, which was used to heat the hops from underneath after spreading it out on the floor, the cowl on top of the roof allowing the hot air to escape. They are a frequent sight along the North Downs Way, especially once you reach the Kentish Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB) adding some special flair to the already gorgeous countryside. To the slight disappointment for the beer lovers among us, they are no longer in use but some of them have been converted into homes allowing to have an atmospheric slumber which might offer a taste (and maybe even scent) of bygone days.
Leaving those hoppy sights and thoughts behind us, and passing by a somewhat intriguing bee hotel — cause why not — we left the trail for our little shopping stop at a Co-op in Cuxton which confronted me with a terribly hard decision… plain butter or hazelnut chocolate? Life can be hard when out on the trails! I went for both. Again, cause why not?! Full of croissant goodness, a wee bit of coffee to wash down the Ibuprofen, along with some strategic backpack readjusting, and I was as good as new. Not really, but in better spirits and hopeful that loosening my hip belt for a while might do the trick.
While waiting for it to make a difference, I do remember that first ascent when starting section 7 as you climb over Ranscombe Farm Reserve, another area known for an impressive count of orchid species, six in total according to Colin Saunders, as well as some nationally rare plants such as meadow clary and rough marshmallow, the latter an interesting find as I’m more familiar with the soft kind. Unfortunately, I did not get to fully appreciate such rarities as I was busy taking inventory of my backpack contents, mentally unpacking things with every step I took. I think my camping stove ended up on top of the elimination list at some point — who needs hot food anyways!? Silly woman! Luckily not silly enough to leave a trail of camping gear behind as I dutifully carried everything up the downs, or duns rather as we know by now. That climb was probably the hardest stretch of the day if I recall correctly, but let’s have a closer look just to make sure.
Section 7: Cuxton to Detling, 12.5 miles (20.1 km)
So, Cuxton to Detling, what can you expect to come across, besides Thurnam Castle and Bluebell Hill, two spots to keep in mind in case you ever find yourself in that neck of the woods and want to give wild camping a whirl. If you do — risking to sound like your mom for a second — make sure to camp late and leave early, and most importantly, leave no trace pretty please. Do us fellow campers proud. 🏞🥾🏕
A River, a Viaduct, and a Coty
As mentioned in the introduction, the first memorable thing you’ll do on this section is passing the infamous Medway River dividing the Kentish Men and Maidens from the Men and Maidens of Kent. A rather drastic distinction for locals which appears to be embodied by the equally impressive Medway Bridges offering a somewhat conflicting experience as you’ll be wedged between the M2 and Eurostar’s high-speed railway line to your right, and magnificent views of shimmering yachts resting in Medway Bridge Marina, aquatic birds swooping over the salt marshes, and glances of Rochester Castle and Cathedral in the distance to your left.
Not a typo for a change, this impressive river crossing is made up of a multitude of bridges indeed, three to be precise — the original six-lane bridge from 1963 which included a footpath on each side, a second one that was added in 2003 turning it into a four-lane carriageway by sacrificing one of the footpaths, before turning the remaining one into a shared use track once the high-speed railway bridge was completed in 2007 meaning that you may need to divert via Rochester if such service road gets commandeered for emergency vehicles. No emergencies for us that day, and our legs were truly happy about that as it’s a nice stretch to cover some distance quickly albeit being a bit noisy. Nothing you can’t handle though, especially if a city dweller used to continuous background noise, or if a fan of the entertaining game of ‘who can make a passing truck driver honk their horn first’?! Always embrace that inner child, and yes, I did win, naturally.
Once passed over, you’ll get an opportunity to revisit your newly gained knowledge about oast houses as you’ll walk by Nashenden Farm before reaching an opening where it’s worth looking back at the bridges, which are also known as Medway Viaducts, a truly magnificent construction to admire whilst giving yourself a little pat on the back in celebration of the distance you’ve covered by then. I did say the first ascent of the day was the hardest and I do stand by it, and so does Mr Saunders promising that it’s nearly all level or downhill once you steadily ascended Nashenden Down, …”apart from one steep ascent after passing prehistoric Kit’s Coty House”!?
I love how he just brushes over the steep ascent-bit and swiftly moves on to historical facts about the ‘ancient bus stop’, as some fellow hikers like to call it. A clever strategy that I decided to copy as I’ve moaned enough by now I’d say, and don’t want to completely scare you off from attempting a wild camping feat yourself. Truth be told, he has every reason to brush over it as the ascent was not that bad. I think I was just surprised how long it actually took us to get to Bluebell Hill, the place I initially chose for our first campsite, a great location indeed to pitch a tent once night falls I’m sure, but definitely too far if you start your adventure in Otford.
Water under the bridge, or bridges to stay topical, Rochester Forrest worked just as well and allowed us to sleep on castle grounds the night after. Not quite a castle, nor a bus stop, Kit’s Coty House is a point of interest you do not want to miss on this section, as it’s one of the best-preserved examples of a rectangular stone chamber forming the entrance to the burial mounds people constructed during the early Neolithic period. Kit’s Coty is said to belong to the Celtic leader Catigern (Kit), who was killed in a battle with the Saxons under warlord Horsa in AD 455. Catigern’s remains are resting in this cottage- or ‘coty’-like stone arrangement which, according to local legends, never leads to the same result when attempting to count the stones.
I wasn’t aware of the fact back then, so if you do happen to pass by, give it a whirl and let me know how it went. More importantly though, do keep an eye out for an opening in the trees and hedges to your right whilst make your way up to Bluebell Hill since the trail will lead you past not to Kit’s Coty House.
Sunset Views and Castle Ground Epiphanies
Leaving those stones behind, we made use of Bluebell Hill’s picnic benches for a lunch stop before quickly moving on to the ruins we chose as temporary resting grounds for our tired bones, and no offence to Catigern, but I feel like we had the better views from Thurnam with the sun slowly setting behind us colouring surrounding fields in the most spectacular hues of red and orange, something neither of us had seen before, wherefore we stopped for a little while to take it all in. Worth every second, it did cost us time we then lacked when trying to make it to the castle grounds before night- and, as so often, rainfall.
Despite the awe-inspiring spectacle we got to witness just then, the need to rush got to us. We accidentally overshot our destination, so had to reconsider our options swiftly. We decided to backtrack, after having had a little tiff, something that’s hard to avoid when fighting with yourself, the elements, and well, occasionally with each other. Patient minds, empathy, a bit of luck and speedy legs were on our side though. Tents were pitched before the last rays disappeared, bellies filled whilst discussing the day’s insights, and that little bottle of port, which Ian happily carried that day, finished off just before we zipped up our tents and then got to listen to rain drops bouncing off our humble abodes, a pleasantly calming sound lulling us to sleep.
Apparently, those watery sounds did not only send us off into dream world but also awoke other sensations which urged me to brave the outdoors once more in the middle of the night, a truly serene moment I already mentioned as another turning point when first telling you about our NDW camping adventure. In contrast to our lovely encounter with Ann and Trian the day before giving me the confidence boost I needed to keep going, this moment of pure solitude under the stars, emphasised the insignificance of the daily problems and struggles we oftentimes allow to run (some might even say ruin) our lives.
Being out there in the middle of nowhere, only the moon illuminating my surroundings as well as the few possessions that offered me shelter and comfort throughout the next few days, made me feel like I was truly living my life again, the here and now being the only thing that mattered. Instead of wondering what other people in those lovely houses down in the valley might be up to, how they might be more or less successful in navigating through these challenging times, it was nice to shed those comparative thoughts. Thoughts and worries that don’t really get you anywhere but off track your very own journey, that tiny stretch the universe has given you to live however you please, no rules or guidebooks leading the way, just your little heart that keeps you going day in and day out, and your mind, helping you to make the most of each one of them.
I remember staring at the moon, taking in the silence around me, not even crickets to be heard that night, only me and the castle ruins, reminders of times long gone when people before us where fighting their very own battles. Having stood there for quite a while, the nightly breeze sent a little shiver down my spine, wherefore I quickly crawled back into my tent and blissfully fell back to sleep with the comfort of knowing that everything would be okay, …at least until those creaky castle ground gates started swinging…
Another section, another cliffhanger — I hope you like them as much as I do, and will rejoin me when continuing our adventure along section 8, leading us from Detling to Lenham. See you there! 🙋♀️🎒
When was I there? 9 October 2020
Section 8:
9.3 miles (14.9 km)
Section 7:
12.5 miles (20.1 km)
Section 6:
15 miles (24.1 km)
Section 5:
11.8 miles (18.9 km)
Section 4:
8 miles (12.8 km)
Section 3:
10 miles (16 km)
Section 2:
13 miles (21 km)
Section 1:
11 miles (17.7 km)
