Luxury Weekend in the South Downs

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There was a pink sunset as we checked in at Findon Manor Hotel, on the sheltered side of the South Downs, followed by a clear starry sky with a sliver of moon.  So we were delighted when Saturday dawned cloudless.
       After a good breakfast we set off and were soon tackling the climb up  Cissbury Ring, a huge Iron Age hillfort.  Steep but worth it, as the views of Worthing, Brighton, the Downs and the sparkling silver sea were wonderful.

Left: setting a cracking pace up the gallops

 

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We followed the ridge of the South Downs north and west, now enjoying views north as well, and lunched at a convenient memorial to a couple who loved the Downs, with seats all around.  Our second historic spot was at Chanctonbury Ring, another hillfort, this time small enough that we could all walk round it.

Left: learning about Cissbury Ring before the climb, with the South Downs Ridge behind


 

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Left: Sarah and Dave take a breather

 

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Approaching Chanctonbury hill fort in sunlight but with dark clouds gathering we feel apprehensive about tomorrow!
      Descending from the ridge we passed the village pest house (now a rather pleasant, if remote, cottage, and reached the hotel in good time for tea and a rest before our delicious black tie dinner.  Mike kindly recorded everyone in their finery – so watch out for the pictures!

 

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But then came Sunday!  We woke to torrential rain and discretion won the day for a few, who headed off to the fleshpots of Brighton or a warm sofa at home.  The rest of us fought our way up past Findon’s 11th century church in full winter gear, in the teeth of driving wind and rain.  

 

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Sheltering in a barn and admiring its inhabitant, a rather chilly newborn calf, we decided to cut short.  Lunch was taken in the minimal shelter of some impressively gnarled trees.

 

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Soon we joined the Monarch’s Way, which traces the escape route of Charles I.  Hopefully he did it on a horse because the going underfoot was appalling and I’m now winning again in the mud queen stakes!  Just mention ‘the turnip field’ and wait for the looks of horror: chalky mud deep enough to overtop our boots.  The last two miles took an hour and a half.  Even the dog looked depressed, not surprising when the mud often came up to his tummy!

How pleased we were to be back at the hotel where we could strip off our wet layers and luxuriate in a warm bar with tea and cakes before heading off home.  Dee