Stour Valley Walk - 4th Leg

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Had Emma with me to keep me company this time. We bought proper walking boots over christmas and matched these with Bench hooded coats and tracksuit bottoms to create a whole new look: the chav rambler.

Took Em a while to get used to her first bus ride in a decade, on the way over to Upstreet. The first part of the walk we knew already, through Stodmarsh nature reserve. We passed quite a few birdwatchers being followed around by their patient wives. At Stodmarsh village there's a pub (can't remember its name) that Em thinks is scary because it's decorated with stuffed animals, some past owner's or punter's hunting prizes. There's a big Flemish-style farm house on the right coming out of the village called Stodmarsh Ct Farm that looks like it's seen better days (see photo).

Up the hill, across a field with some cows. Em took the opportunity to show-off her farming knowledge (she has a dairy farmer in the family) informing me once half way across the field that a small group of cows like that were likely to be 'trouble' cows, kept away from the main herd. Thankfully, we made it safely past without being mugged.

Next we walked through woods where the trees had been coppiced. Eerie due to the lack of birdsong. Along the side of a tree nursery and then into the historical village of Fordwich. Lots of medieval buildings, but all a bit too picture postcard for me, too well-preserved. Lots of huge German family saloons and 4x4s. I preferred the rough and ready, isolated villages of Stourmouth and Westmarsh. Had an overpriced lunch in a tarted-up gastropub then moved on.

Across Old Park, a royal hunting ground centuries ago. Through woods, out onto a golf course where the golfers politely waved us across. Feeling less and less like the countryside, with houses and the constant noise of traffic beyond them on one side, an MOD firing range on the other. Came to the edge of the barracks of the Princess of Wales' Royal Regiment and skirted round the edge. The gate sentry, a teenager with an automatic weapon, made us sufficiently nervous that we misread the map and went the wrong way, missing out some almshouses and a church.

Despite being knackered, we made a small detour to look round St. Martin's church, possibly the oldest church in the country still in use. Queen Bertha, whose husband King Ethelbert was converted by St Augustine in the 6th century, worshipped here. Parts of the walls are pre-Anglo-Saxon. A very friendly ginger cat greeted us just inside the lychgate. After a brief circuit of the building, it was on through Canterbury, ignoring numerous ancient buildings on the way, to get to the railway station before our legs fell off.

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