With the possibility of the sunny weather continuing, this walk avoids the seaside train routes.
"The walk starts with a long stretch along the lower chalk slopes of the National Trust's Denbies Hillside , a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI). The Main Walk then heads south into the wooded Greensand Hills, going through the extensive Wotton Estate to the picturesque hamlet of Friday Street with its large Hammer Pond.
The return leg crosses a number of ridges on open access land managed by the Surrey Wildlife Trust and the Forestry Commission. After passing the large ponds of Bury Hill Fisheries a final climb takes you along the top of The Nower , a semi-natural woodland reserve with splendid views. There are plenty of opportunities for refreshment in Dorking before the journey back."
Trains: Get the 0941 Horsham Train from London Victoria (Clapham Jct 0948) arriving 1040. Return trains xx17 & xx43. (note, that for travel options to/from London Bridge/Waterloo/Dorking Deepdene, you need a more expensive all routes ticket)
Lunch: The Wotton Hatch (01306-887694) on the A25 at Wotton, after 4.7 miles, 7½ km. It serves food all day and has a large beer garden with views of the North Downs.
Tea: Various options in Dorking
1 comment:
First around #10 but overall I think #14 (I was not in charge of counting)
#first-cloudy-then-sunny-and-hot-and-hunid
Fine Day of Ferns, Fast Feet, and Fickle Butterflies
Ten brave souls disembarked at the designated station, slightly dazed from the slow train journey. Outside, we rendezvoused with two more wanderers, bringing our number to a mathematically satisfying dozen. A bonus hiker appeared briefly like an unexpected subplot—intent on a sunnier route but soon deterred by the forecast’s glare. Then, they opted for the metaphysical exercise of Waiting for Someone Else, who materialized from a later train.
The morning air was warm and tactfully humid and the skies hung low with a vague sense of indecision until lunch, when they cleared up as if moved by our sandwiches. The route, sensibly shaded by woods and groves, spared us the worst of the sun’s ambitions.
Butterflies flitted across our path in great numbers, performing spontaneous aerial choreography. Regrettably, our resident butterfly expert was not with us, leading to wild speculation about species, genus, and the existential motivations of moths, and AI’s ability to identify them.
Lunch offered choices: some retreated to a pub with lightning-speed service, slightly shocking prices, and food so good it almost justified the economics. Others sat outside with sandwiches and smiles, proving that happiness sometimes comes in foil (or plastic).
Post-lunch, the laws of group hiking dynamics took effect. A phenomenon emerged: The Fast Three—a breakaway formation driven by rhythm, instinct, and perhaps an unconscious longing for cake. I will admit (without humility) to being one of them. We picked up the pace, weaving through high ferns and along sandy pine paths with the enthusiasm of well fed gazelles.
Frequent phone messages confirmed what our increasing solitude already suggested: the rest of the group was a respectable distance behind.
As our circular route curved back toward familiar vistas, we glimpsed our morning’s path from afar. A steep hill led us to The Temple, where we paused to contemplate architecture, hydration, and the noble art of sitting down.
Not far on, we encountered World War Two training trenches—silent now but deeply etched with history. Soon after, a birch tree cracked and split dramatically by the main path, as if to add a moment of arboreal theater to the proceedings.
The Fast Three, having maintained our brisk trajectory, reached the town with time to spare for coffee and cakes in a delightful courtyard café, and then proceeded to the station, where we waited for the train in a blissfully cool waiting room, discussing the mysteries of track changes with an employee. We caught 17:17 to London Victoria.
In sum: a splendid day out.
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