I wake before my alarm to the sound of Skylarks which trill happily in the aurora light. Despite the early wake up call, it has not been unwelcome. IT dropped down to 6° last night and I felt the chill. I swiftly pack up and head on to the trail in a bid to warm up.
Mist rises up off the artificial estuary and I spot a lone green tent of a bike packer who is still sleeping. Up I hike and pass through fields of horses with a Don't feed the horses sign left by a very disgruntled farmer. Down into a still-sleeping village with a lovely cottage called the forge. I ascend and disappear into wood where I stop to remove my thermals and have breakfast. The porridge I had carefully pre-packed for each breakfast is not appealing to my hiker hunger right now. I manage a few mouthfuls and switch to angel cake instead. The trail follows a meandering river and enters another village before I ascend up into the hills, passing huge houses. The hills follow on, from one another and the sun come out !!
The wind is minimal but present and I follow cows and sheep alternating in each passing field. Pausing for a break, I devour several snacks and admire the view. A man in his 60s jogs by.
"Morning"
"Morning"
"Lovely day to in the Downs" he calls sailing by.
"Definitely" I agree.
"Enjoy it!" he shouts back.
Descending the hill, I disappear into the convenient cafe of the South Downs youth hostel and buy a much appreciated cup of tea. I sit out in the cafe area and enjoy it. Since I hike without a stove, I do appreciate a hot beverage when the opportunity arises.
On I hike and I can't believe the weather! Sunny skies with those perfect fluffy white clouds. Up into the hills I go, passing through a farm and by other hiker and bikers. Fields of wheat and rapeseed flowers bend in the breeze. sk
I stop to rest my feet, my pinky toes are suffering and I end up dropping my guide book so double back for it. The trail becomes busy with other walkers, hikers, paragliders, dogs, cars and a van dwellers. I hike along and come the evening I am ready for bed. According to my fitbit I've trekked 34miles and done 81,0000 steps.
I dither about, wondering where I can discretely pitch my tent. There isn't much in the way of flat places to pitch with decent cover. A valley is the only area with trees so I hoist myself over the stile and slink unto the cover of trees. I pitch my tent on the most level piece of ground I can find - a sheep's path. My evening meal is a Moroccan flavoured couscous mix which I dig into happily, do my pre-bed chores and fall asleep with ease.
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