The Pilgrims' Way: Halling to Aylesford

I really could have combined today with yesterday. The only saving grace in separating it out is that I don’t have to consider it alongside the amazing tree tunnel when I remember this trip. I say this only because there was so little to speak of for today’s stage. To begin with, it was short and easy, which is a terrible start to any story. The train to Halling at least had some rowdy teens playing music loudly.

I took the opportunity to visit the Old Palace just behind Halling church, but felt more interested in the cement factory’s positioning around it than the ruins. I found it hard to articulate fully why at the time, but I think it’s to do with the perception of value when it comes to historical preservation. In the 1890s, people had different priorities. Now, the cement factory is completely gone and the palace’s ruins are preserved as much as possible. But who’s to say that people in a thousand years wouldn’t prefer to find the floorplan of the factory instead? How do we decide what building has more value, and what makes it more valuable? Is it utility? Age? Aesthetic? It was an interesting question to consider as I crossed over the Medway.

The book I’m using as a guide to the Pilgrims’ Way is by Leigh Hatts, who wrote it in 2017. Coincidentally, that was the same year I started travel writing. In it, Leigh notes that there is a new building project at Peters Village. Well, it’s finished now, and so the route you are taken along is less “tranquil waterside footpath” and more “housing estate in the blaring midday sun.” It was another reminder that you should do your own research too before planning out a trip, as things may be out of date.

Fortunately, there were more interesting things on the other side of the river. First, the church at Burham. While still consecrated, it is not a working church, and so when I arrived I was surprised to see it in the middle of a conversion into an art exhibition. Aside from the pews and the altar, there was nothing else inside. That was until the team began bringing in the canvases – wide and textured and heavy with paint. The artist, Kim, informed me they were painted during a storm. She had waited for storms to occur, and then deliberately went outside to paint the pieces I could see resting against the front pews. They looked quite evocative of the circumstances of their painting, and it’s unfortunate I won’t be around to see the full show.

Around the back and towards the water is the old ferry crossing from Snodland. You have to walk beside the reeds and grasses to get to the site, which the dogs I passed by seemed to be enjoying a lot. More excitingly for me, there is also a stone marker meant to show the place where the Romans crossed over the Medway in 43AD. It’s highly unlikely to be the exact spot, but it was fun to pretend I had been at the same spot as them nearly 2000 years later. 

It would not be my last flirtation with the Romans today, either. While I was researching places of interest to visit during the pilgrimage, I discovered there was an especially impressive Roman villa just south of Burham and west of Eccles (not of Eccles cake fame, unfortunately). It would only be perhaps a hundred meters out of my way, too. In fact, it would have been irresponsible not to visit it. But when I got there...it was just a tilled field. True, there were some suspiciously shaped rocks and red tile-like stones, but it was probably confirmation bias; I saw what I wanted to see, rather than what was really there. It was one of the largest disappointments of the trip so far.

Fortunately, I didn’t have time to be too upset, as I ran (or fast-walked) into another pilgrim on his way to Aylesford. From behind, I could see he was holding the same book as I was, so maybe I could catch up to him and ask about it. He had a greying beard and somehow managed to be taller than me, though softly spoken. He had come via the London route and was reestablishing his connection with his faith after his mother died a few months ago. He had walked from Wrotham, which meant we immediately bonded over how much we both enjoyed the miles-long tree tunnel between there and Haling. He had also seen no one else there and remarked how peaceful it had been by himself. We agreed that even though we were walking alone (usually) we didn’t feel lonely doing it. I gave him some suggestions of where to eat for dinner and informed him about the breakfast offerings (both decent, but limited). Before we knew it, we were back at Aylesford Priory, and we parted ways. I then immediately forgot his name, because I am awful at remembering names.

I was incredibly pleased to share such a specific experience with someone else. Clearly, the Wrotham tree tunnel will be the standout character from these two weeks of travelling. I wish Freddie had been able to enjoy it too. Perhaps I can take him through it again one day or bring Winston for a walk. 

Tomorrow is an entirely different beast, though: Rochester. It will be the first big city since Guildford, and there’s a lot to see, so I hope I give myself enough time to do everything I can.