Small steps along the North Downs Way

So, in England at least, some of the so-called "lock-down" restrictions have been eased and citizens are once again allowed to do what they have done for centuries, which is leave their own homes and enjoy the great outdoors.

It’s only for exercise mind, and there’s no point in travelling too far, as hotels and guest houses remain firmly shut, but it’s still a small step in the right direction. “Small steps” is what I believe our glorious leader Mr Bumble described these changes as, so determined to take full advantage of them, I sat down to plan out the next, eagerly anticipated stages of my walk along the North Down’s Way (NDW).

Regular followers of this blog will know I’ve been attempting to complete this long-distance trail, which runs right across southern England, from Farnham in Surrey to Canterbury in Kent, for some time. It’s been quite a journey, beset by various setbacks not least of which is Covid-19.

With overnight accommodation out of the equation, until July at the earliest, there will be no three-day stints of glorious back to back walking for the time being.  Instead, and of necessity, all stretches contemplated will need to start and finish from home. This unfortunately means journey times to both the starting and end points must be taken into consideration.

Letting the train take the strain seemed the obvious answer, but I’d reckoned without the tenacity of Mrs PBT’s to keep me and, by extension, the whole family safe. “I’m not having you travelling on a virus-laden train,” was her stern warning, and despite assurances that I’d wear a facemask and would only be travelling at off peak times, the answer was still a very firm “no.”

Our hapless government haven’t exactly helped here, as by sending out mixed signals as to what is and what isn’t permitted, they have totally confused the situation. “Go back to work,” they say, but “avoid public transport, wherever possible.” Small wonder I’ve been prohibited from travelling by train!
 

As luck would have it, a chance for a spot of NDW walking showed itself on Sunday. Son Matthew is at home at the moment, furloughed by his company and unable to meet up with his friends. The terms of his firm's furlough arrangment also prevent him from taking any alternative employment. In short, he’s bored out of his brain and in serious danger of risking the ire of Mrs PBT’s by getting under her feet.

He mentioned going out for a drive, followed by a walk, so I suggested taking a short drive to Otford, a large village just the other side of Sevenoaks. The NDW happens to pass through this picturesque settlement, which nestles in the Darenth Valley, so where better than to combine a drive plus a walk, whilst at the same time knocking off another small section of this long-distance trail.

Otford also represents the most westerly point I have reached on the NDW, so a walk a short distance west from there ticked several boxes.  Matthew drove us, and I’m pleased to report his driving is much improved since I last sat in a car with him. On the way, and for curiosity’s sake, we took a drive through the really upmarket part of Sevenoaks; an area known as Kippington. It was Matthew’s idea, and showed the town in a different light, especially if you want to see how the other half live.

Although it does have areas of more affordable social housing. Otford is chiefly a rather upmarket particularly in the village centre. It’s rail links north towards London Victoria, and south-east towards Maidstone and Ashford International, make the village a popular residence for commuters; a factor which again has an upwards influence on house prices.

The village is centred on a large duck pond, which also acts as the intersection of three roads. We left the car in the large municipal carpark, just off the village centre, and headed off in a westerly direction, before turning off towards the south. At first the route led through a housing estate, before eventually becoming open countryside.  

This section of the NDW is shared with the Darenth Valley Way. Shortly after we crossed the main Sevenoaks-Charing Cross rail-line before heading through a field planted with broad beans. There were quite a few other walkers out enjoying the sunshine, but not as many as there were milling around in Otford.

We walked as far as the road leading down to Dunton Green, and this will form a convenient joining point from the local station, once Mrs PBT’s sanctions that travelling by train is once again safe. The path came out adjacent to the large and quite impressive Donnington Manor Hotel, closed at present to visitors and looking rather sad and forlorn.

We then had to turn around and retrace our steps back to Otford. There was a road alternative, but it was unclear from the map whether the road had a pavement, so we stuck to the path and enjoyed the views of the surrounding downland from a different perspective.

This is the maddening thing about linear walking, as unless there is either a transport option at the end, or somewhere to stay for the night, there is no alternative but to return the way one came.

We’d walked just under two miles in each direction, and if that homeward walk could have been added to the outbound section, we would have reached the downland settlement of Knockholt Pound. 

Never mind, we both enjoyed the walk and it afforded a good opportunity for a father and son talk. Kept away from his job and his friends, Matthew has been feeling rather isolated during this lock-down period, so it was good to see him enjoying just being out in the open countryside, taking in the scenery and the fresh air.

We had a quick stroll around Otford, once we arrived back the village centre.  A few years ago, the village could boast four pubs, but now only two remain. The Bull is a Chef & Brewer establishment, which I've never returned to, after we received extremely poor service one Mother’s Day, around 10 years ago. The Woodman, on the other side of the duckpond, is a much more down to earth village local, but it's many a year since I last set foot inside there.

Both pubs were closed, of course, but sandwiched in between is the former Crown, an attractive 17^th Century building, overlooking the duckpond. In my view it was easily the best pub in Otford, and I really don’t know why it closed. The Crown has now been turned into a fitness centre for all those yummy mummies aspiring to be gym bunnies; a sad fate for a once thriving village pub.


The fourth pub in Otford. was the Horns; a place that was always much more of restaurant. It had a good reputation for food, so it was a surprise when it closed in 2014, and was turned into another private house. Whether the village's remaining two pubs emerge unscathed from this current, government-enforced closure, remains to be seen.