Not quite déjà vu, but it was 50 years later

It felt a little strange pitching up outside the Timber Batts pub in the isolated downland settlement of Bodsham. As we parked the car outside, I didn't exactly have a sense of déjà vu, in fact I don't think I actually recognised the place, but then looking back it was around 50 years that I'd last set foot in the pub. That would have been when I was still living at home with my parents, in the relatively nearby village of Brook. I would have been a VI form student at the time, but I do distinctly remember visiting the Timber Batts; I mean with a distinctive name like that, it wasn't exactly the sort of place one would forget.

I didn't have my own car back then, and despite having a rather under-powered Honda 90 scooter, I had no real means of visiting such an isolated public house. I'm pretty certain that the last of what was only a handful of visits, was made when my sister’s friend’s boyfriend drove a group of us to the pub. The Timber Batts had become something of an in place amongst the crowd I hung around with in those days and it was quite easy to see why, given its tucked away location and its quirky,and rather unusual name.

Fast forward half a century and more or less out of the blue I spotted an opportunity off revisiting this haunt from my youth, and this came about when I was looking for a suitable place to call in at, after completing another of the rapidly diminishing incomplete sections of the North Downs Way. Naturally I consulted the What-pub app, as my original intention had been to stop at the Bowl Inn at Hastingleigh. This is another pub situated high up on the downs, amongst the maze of small backroads that criss-cross this part of east Kent. But whilst looking further photo What-pub entries, I noticed the name Timber Batts staring at me from the screen.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, as whilst I was sure that the pub had closed its doors a long time ago, What-pub was telling me otherwise.  I discovered that the Timber Batts had been closed for some time, although it had reopened, as a pub in 2016. This followed a spell as a restaurant, but six years ago, a knight, or rather a lady in shining armour, rescued this ancient country inn, and once more it is welcoming casual drinkers, as well as those in search of something more solid.

I had persuaded son Matthew to accompany me on this outing, in fact we even took his car, as he wanted to gain some more experience of motorway driving. The area of the North Downs we were heading to, was a point high on  the hills directly overlooking the Channel Tunnel terminal. I had originally walked this section back in the summer of 2019, after setting off from Wye station. My aim was to walk to the tiny settlement of Arpinge, a distance of approximately 14 miles. This was the location of the nearest available bed and breakfast establishment on this stretch of the trail, but realistically speaking, it was a couple of miles too far - as I discovered to my cost!

Two or three miles before the end of the journey, the route led me up one of the steepest climbs on that particular section, and to say I was running out of steam, was an understatement. After turning right at the top, and heading towards the sea, the map showed the path skirting the top of the escarpment. It was a further couple of miles to my overnight stop and I was left wondering whether I would make it or not. An alternative route, by road, presented itself. It looked almost the same distance, but I knew that walking along the road would be far easier on my legs than walking over rough ground.

The road it was then, and I eventually arrived at Pigeonwood House B&B two hours later than the time originally notified to the landlady. I think she had almost given up on me, but after removing my boots and checking in, she showed to my room. The first thing I needed was a shower, followed by a good night's sleep. I didn't bother with an evening meal, despite the landlady offering to drive me to the nearest pub, the strangely named Cat & Custard Pot at Paddlesworth. I declined her kind offer, took a shower, made myself a cup of tea, and then slithered into bed. I slept like the proverbial log and woke relatively refreshed the following morning.

The landlady seemed pleasantly surprised to see me, as I'm sure she half expected that I wouldn’t make it through the night. I confounded her by eating a hearty full English breakfast, preceded by cereal, and finished off with several slices of toast and marmalade. I settled my account and set off on the next stage of my journey - a slightly shorter, but still quite challenging walk that would take me to Dover. I was quite annoyed with myself for having missed that section of the official trail, despite the best of intentions, and so three and a half years later, I returned to complete this stretch of the North Downs Way.

There is a handy small car park overlooking the flat-lands below, situated directly above a chalk carving of the Kentish White Horse. You can't actually see this from the top, but what you can see is the bustling terminus of the Channel Tunnel, where cars and lorries are loaded onto transporters to take them through the tunnel. After parking the car, we set off and with the aid of a map, plus a conveniently situated signpost we found the official trail. We followed it round as it skirted the top of the escarpment, passing a couple of WWII pill boxes on the way. It was nice and flat, so perhaps I could have completed it after all, back in 2019.

We could see right out to sea from the edge of the field, and despite the slightly hazy conditions I was surprised to see the land mass of northern France silhouetted on the far horizon. So, for the second time of hiking along this particular stretch of the North Downs, I was annoyed with myself for having left my binoculars at home, although in mitigation, it had been quite foggy when we left Tonbridge.

When we reached the part of the pathway
I had diverted from, we decided to walk along the road, primarily because it was less muddy. On the way back to the car-park, we passed the start of the driveway, leading to Pigeonwood House. Back at the car, we swapped our muddy walking shoes, for the clean ones we’d brought with us, and then set off to find the tiny hamlet of Bodsham, and the Timber Batts public house. Read how we fared in the next installment.