The Pilgrims' Way: Wrotham to Halling

Rut-ham to Hall-ing. That’s how they’re pronounced. Who says the English language needs consistent pronunciations? It adds character (pronounced char–actor).

Parts of today’s walk were some of my favourite of the entire trip so far. With the wonderful late-summer sun, chirping birds, and gentle breeze, the miles-long tree tunnel was enough for me to feel enchanted. Were I in a fairytale, I would have laid down to fall asleep and never woken up again. It was that exceptional.

The breakfast at The Bull Inn was also exceptional, in that I was the only person there. I could eat as much yoghurt and cereal and I wanted, though only a limited amount of cheese and ham. They cooked me some scrambled eggs and brewed some tea too. I had so much to eat that I would have gone back to bed under different circumstances. As it was, I needed to go as I was already late before I had even started.

I felt quite smug watching the North Downs Way turn left up into the hills as The Pilgrims’ Way continued forward, skirting the base and hidden among the trees. For most of the four hour walk I was masked from direct sunlight, so I was spared from its glaring heat. Instead, I enjoyed the cool shade of the canopy and a slight breeze that leaves occasionally found themselves caught in. There was noone else to disturb me, either. I was totally alone on the tree tunnel from start to finish, hours of time to myself along a gentle hidden Pilgrims’ Way. I really could have spent the whole day there, lying on the bank and listening to the hidden birds. 

There were two cases where I left the path, however. The first was to see Coldrum Long Barrow, the best preserved of the megalithic monuments of Kent. It’s more than 6,000 years old, and the first neolithic site I’ve seen on this trip. While the history of the walk so far has generally only reached back as far as Saxon England, save for very few “sites” of Roman buildings, the Long Barrow is a whole different category of English heritage. It is prehistoric, naturally, and the contrast is so stark as to be alien. Of course, it would be anachronistic to refer to any neolithic inhabitant of England as “English”, and the same for Romans, and even most of the Anglo- Saxons. But in terms of visible chronology of a place’s history, being able to touch the same stones that were moved into place all those millennia ago, and see a church soon after, really puts into perspective the passage of time and the distance between us and our ancestors in thought and practices.

Around the barrow were offerings of vegetables and flowers, and tied to the trees were brightly coloured ribbons to celebrate the harvest. This too felt like looking into an alternate stream of cultural consciousness. A fertility festival celebrated at a barrow, while the church in Trottiscliffe – sorry, Trolsey – is selling homemade preserves to raise money to preserve the church in turn (the garden has beautiful flowers at the moment). Two distinct spiritual traditions living side by side. England can be really amazing at times.

Afterwards, it was back to the trees, and on to Halling. As much as I enjoyed the walk, there really were very few events aside from what I went out of my way to see. There were plenty of wildflowers and bees hopping in and out of the bushes. Different red and blue berries looked ripe, but suspicious. It was a nice jaunt through nature, which doesn’t need to be exciting.

Once it emptied out into the road leading to Halling, there was only a short distance left. Waiting for me in St. John’s Church was Sarah, who was expecting Freddie and I thanks to the surprisingly good communication of the Halling church admin team. She made me a cup of tea, and we had a long chat that reminded me deeply of conversations I would have had with my nan. I think the accent helped a lot to encourage the comparison, but even so, it was very pleasant, kind company. She even showed me around the sights of interest, including the bees in the cemetery that bury their pollen underground, so the larvae have something to eat. There is also a wall mural that is reminiscent of the one found in Chaldon. I think, together with the walk through the tree tunnel, it made today one of the best days for me. Good nature and good human nature at once.

Having said that, there is a cultural shift here compared with the other parts I’ve walked through which is more noticeable than it was between Hampshire and Surrey. I am curious how much more pronounced it will be the closer I get to Canterbury. I hadn’t heard any swearing until now, but suddenly people have been using coarse language everywhere. Cannabis too, I noticed the smell of in places. Combined with the newly appearing seagulls, it reminds me of Hastings and long-gone family members. Lots of reminders of family on this trip, for the better, I think.

I also took a train to Aylesford despite it being the destination for my walk tomorrow as its where my accommodation is. I can give a full breakdown of the area then. For now, I’m excited to only carry a small bag for tomorrow’s hike back to where I started.