London LOOP: West Wickham to Coulsdon South Part 2

Part 2 of this walk finds me refreshed, resupplied and ready to go in Hamsey Green. Heading out of the village (oh look, nudging back into Surrey again), I enter the rather cumbersomely named Sanderstead to Whtyeleafe Countryside Area. The area's split between three owners, two being the adjoining councils (Croydon and Tandridge) and the third being the Whitgift Foundation, a charitable organisation founded by Archbishop John Whitgift in 1596 and today providing care for the elderly, education and advice for carers. The bridleway that cuts through the area and that I'm following has been around since at least the 1570s, when a map of the time named it Broadwaye. Passing yet another dogwalker, the path leads into a small belt of trees (wouldn't you know it, I'm back in London again), within which lies an Ordnance Survey triangulation point; surprisingly the only one that lies on the LOOP. Soon I'm heading down into the spectacularly steep valley below, via Riddlesdown Road; this used to be the main coaching route towards Lewes and Brighton. Crossing a railway line, I reach the bottom, ending up on what's now the main route through the area, the A22. Consulting my guide book, my heart sinks when I see that I am indeed going to be climbing back up the other side of the valley; a third steep ascent of the day. Over the other railway line (one goes to Oxted, the other to Caterham), then up New Barn Lane (exhausting enough in itself) and into the woods again. A flight of stairs helps somewhat, but I'm still gasping when I finally reach an open field at the top (Google Earth tells me the average gradient of this short stretch was 1 in 7!). I've reached Kenley Common, one of four commons in the area grouped together under the Coulsdon Commons banner. Owned by the City of London Corporation, I've already walked across Riddlesdown (guess where Riddlesdown Road is?), and I'll meet the other two later on. Incidentally, the name's a bit of a misnomer, as none of the spaces are registered as commons today.

Kenley Common played a crucial role in both World Wars as a fighter plane base; along with RAF Croydon and RAF Biggin Hill, RAF Kenley was instrumental in the Battle of Britain. The airfield is still in use today, owned by the Ministry of Defence and home to 615 Volunteer Gliding Squadron; powered aircraft are currently prohibited from using the airfield. My walk takes me along the northern edge of Kenley Common, then curves southwestwards into an open field with a pair of redundant kissing gates at either end of the path. I take the opportunity to sneak a quick look at the airfield itself, then proceed up a sleepy lane and along a short stretch of pavement-less main road before diving back into the trees. Out into a field, then across a road into another field, past the Wattenden Arms pub (reputedly a favoured haunt of the airmen stationed at RAF Kenley). On the way out of this latest field, I pass a strange squat structure with a domed roof, and am quite surprised to find it's an observatory! Kenley Observatory is owned by the Croydon Astronomical Society,which celebrated its 60th anniversary last year. Construction started in 1967, and the observatory was officially opened in 1979. Unsurprisingly the observatory was closed when I went past in broad daylight, but come visit on a Saturday evening and you can take a look through their telescope. The North Downs asserts itself again as I descend down Waterhouse Lane then immediately ascend up Rydon's Lane to reach Coulsdon Common, passing the site of a former windmill on the way.

Coulsdon Common was named for the medieval manor it lay in, but unlike most of the other commons I've passed through today it was not used for agriculture, as the soil here was of too poor quality. The land was thus given over to the grazing of sheep and cattle, creating the open landscape that enabled two windmills to be erected here in the 18th century; the later of the two survived until 1924 when it was demolished. One 18th century building that's survived is The Fox pub, which was opened in 1720 and continues to quench thirsts to this day. I pass by and continue into the third of Coulsdon's Commons, Happy Valley. This area was purchased under the Green Belt Scheme of 1937, being described as "one of the most beautiful valleys in the whole neighbourhood". One of the principal reasons for its purchase was to link Coulsdon Common with Farthing Downs; after all, a belt's not much good if it doesn't join up! Initially I'm led along a broad tree-lined path, past a series of trim trail stations (I declined to make use, I though I'd done quite enough exercise already!). This path curves northwards, and brings me out to a magnificent viewpoint over the valley. Thankfully this one's not as steep as earlier, and my descent and ascent up the other side is markedly more gentle, something I'm rather grateful for at this late stage of the walk! I press on, passing a group of ramblers going in the opposite direction; rather late to be setting out into the valley I thought. I soon enter my last wood of the day, Devil's Den Wood. The name's origin is unknown; suggestions have included a pit called Devil's Den or folk legends of devil worship in the area. The wood is quite open, and I enjoy the light of the setting sun playing through the leaves as the path slopes upwards to bring me to Farthing Downs.

Farthing Downs is an area with some serious history behind it; archaeological evidence dates some of the earliest activity to the Neolithic Era, over 6000 years ago. Eventually a patchwork of fields dominated the landscape throughout the Iron Age, from around 700 BC into the 2nd century AD. The remnants of this farming system can be seen in some of the earth banks and ditches still visible today. By Saxon times, the land had been given over to barrows and burial mounds which, given the altitude of the Downs, would have been seen from miles round. In medieval times the land was used for the grazing of sheep and cattle, and this use continued through to the 19th century. In 1883 the City of London Corporation bought the land from Edmund Byron, but the use stayed the same until the Second World War, when Farthing Downs was requisitioned for military use. Anti-glider ditches were constructed across the landscape, and the space suffered many hits from enemy bombs and fallen aircraft. Thankfully these days rather more remains of the ancient activity than wartime damage, and the walk across this magnificent stretch of grassland is a fine way to near the end of this walk. Spotting the skyscraper cluster of Central London on the horizon for the 3rd time, I pause for a few moments to drink in the beauty of the place, illuminated by the fiery light of the setting sun, before setting off on the home strait, down some rather less pretty residential streets and up an alleyway to reach Coulsdon South station. I sink onto a bench, glad to rest my weary feet (15.2 miles up and down and up and down will tire you out!), and wait for the train to whisk me back home...

(except that didn't go quite to plan because Thameslink cancelled the train I was waiting for, so I had to get a bus to Croydon before I could catch any trains!)

London LOOP: West Wickham to Coulsdon South Part 1

Monday 12th June finds me at the bottom of West Wickham Common, ready to set off on section 3 of my London LOOP walk. This one is marked to take me through Addington, Whyteleafe & Hamsey Green on the way to Coulsdon. It's not the best start to a walk I have to admit, immediately directed off down an alleyway that soon brings me out to a residential street. However, it's not long before the first greenery of the day appears, in the shape of Coney Hall Recreation Ground. It's here that I stumble across an unexpected early highlight; a small stone obelisk marking the passage of the Greenwich Meridian through the park. I pause for a moment, doing what tourists from around the world queue to photograph 7 and a half miles north, then continue past a nursery and across a road into the entrance of Wickham Court School; Wickham Court itself was the ancestral home of the Boleyn family, and was where Henry VIII proposed to Anne Boleyn, mother of Elizabeth I. My route takes me past the entrance gate and into the churchyard of St John's (who have their own blog). A tantalising view through the trees tempts me to the western edge of the churchyard, but alas, there's not much to see, and the presence of a pair of curious workmen nearby prompts my departure.

The walk takes me down a hill into a field of horses, a few of which break off from their grass-munching to eye me suspiciously as I pass by. Crossing a busy road at the bottom of the field takes me into Sparrows Den, a location that holds some treasured memories for me as the location of a pitch and putt course my late grandad took me and my brother to whenever we stayed with him. I cut diagonally across several rugby pitches (owned by Old Beccehamians R.F.C.) to reach a wood, which marks my entrance into Spring Park, a City of London owned common since 1926 (although not actually registered as a common today). The path cuts upwards then banks left, to take me along the southern edge of Cheyne Wood. An information board along the way relates the story of the superb Ancient Order of Froth Blowers, a charitable organisation that helped fund a children's heart hospital in the area. The LOOP continues through the trees for some distance, crossing stream beds and at one point, the boundary between the boroughs of Bromley and Croydon, which also marks the transition into Threehalfpenny Wood. Eventually the path leads out onto an area of open grassland, Shirley Heath, where an unexpected vista to the north reveals the skyscrapers of the City and Canary Wharf in the distance. It's not the last time I'll spot them on this walk.

The route dives back into trees, taking me through Kennel Wood past groups of homebound schoolchildren, before emerging onto Shirley Church Road. I follow this road for just over half a mile, passing Shirley Road Recreation Ground (the open nature of which reveals the Crystal Palace Transmitter in the distance), before turning left past Shirley High School and up a tarmacked path to Sandpits Road. It's at the end of this road that a limitation of the LOOP asserts itself; being effectively a linked-up collection of paths, when it comes to having to cross busy roads there's not much option other than waiting for a brief gap in the traffic and dashing across. Luckily I don't have to wait too long, and am soon on the move again, heading towards Addington Hills. Having been to the viewpoint before, I was prepared for a somewhat steep climb, but still found myself heavily out of breath after a brutally vertiginous ascent. The view makes it all worth it however, with a wide panorama stretching out before me; from Croydon in the west, round past the twin transmitters and the City, to Canary Wharf and Lewisham in the east. I rest for a few minutes, having a bite to eat, before deciding it's time to carry on.


Leaving the viewpoint, I head southwards, past a signpost that tells me I'm now 21 1/2 miles from Erith, and 25 1/4 miles from Kingston Bridge. Passing a rather ominous pentagram drawn in the earth, I'm led southwest down a dip filled with fragrant pine trees, with the path becoming darker as the trees close in on the way out. Passing Coombe Lane tram stop on the right, I follow the tram tracks for a short while, before turning off to enter another small grove of trees, which slope downwards and bring me to the manor house of Heathfield. A former farm turned Georgian manor estate, replete with ornamental gardens and stable, nowadays the house is used as an ambiguously named "training centre", while the grounds are the base for the Croydon Ecology Centre. Skirting round a pond, I head up some steps and back out to a road, then stride downhill past a man performing some classic car maintenance, before plunging into the latest area of woodland, this being Bramley Bank. The woodland is managed by the London Wildlife Trust, and apparently contains the largest woodland pond in Croydon! Another view across the fields presents itself, before I have to negotiate a tricky section overgrown with stinging nettles. Luckily I escape unscathed, and continue down through the trees.

It won't surprise you to hear that almost immediately upon emerging from Bramley Bank I'm back into another wood, this one Littleheath Woods. The woods were bought by a combination of Croydon Council, Coulsdon & Purley Council and publicly raised money to save them from housing development, and they were dedicated as a public space in 1932. The LOOP cuts into Fallen Oak Field, where a lone man on a bench watches my progress along the bottom of the field, then diverts south into Foxearth Wood. I'm joined at this point by the Vanguard Way, another long-distance route that runs from Croydon down to Newhaven in East Sussex; I'll be paralleling this walk for the next couple of miles. I get a bit confused further on and end up taking the wrong path at a junction by a water tower, emerging from the woods much too early and in completely the wrong place. Retracing my steps I manage to take the right path at the second time of asking, and proceed down an increasingly narrow tongue of woodland to Addington Road (more precisely the boundary between the wards of Selsdon and Addington). Crossing the road I'm led up a bridleway that strikes out between backs of houses towards Selsdon Wood. It's here that I encounter my second steep ascent of the day, and by the time I reach the entrance to Selsdon Wood I'm panting heavily. Foolishly I don't have much water with me, so I make do with what I have as I rest for a moment, before continuing up into the wood.

Selsdon Wood is officially Ancient Woodland, but small parts were used for farming in medieval times. In the early 20th century the land was broken up and started to be sold off. Local groups were concerned about the rate of development of the formerly rural Selsdon, and rallied together to purchase a 200-acre area, which was passed to the National Trust, and opened to the public in 1936. The LOOP is signposted up a hill that slopes northeastwards, through oaks and beech. Eventually the gradient levels out somewhat, meaning I can stop feeling like my lungs are about to fall out. The reason for all the hilliness is the North Downs, the chalk ridge that runs through Surrey and Kent and the foothills of which I'm now entering. Passing a lone dogwalker, I come to a narrow track, Baker Boy Lane. It may not look much, this path between wood and field, but the boundary between London and not-London runs parallel a couple of metres to the west; indeed by walking down this path I'm now marginally in Surrey. The field is soon replaced by Puplet Wood on my left, but it's not long before both woods are left behind, as the lane emerges close to the entrance to Farleigh Golf Club. I'm then directed down the side of Elm Farm, leaving the Vanguard Way behind, as I meander downwards through Mossy Hill Shaw. A grand house sits on the horizon to the north; later research reveals it to be the De Vere Selsdon Estate, seat of the Bishop of Rochester for much of the 19th century, but converted to a luxury hotel in 1925. Emerging in a field filled with waist-high wheat stalks (now back in London again), I soon come to a tarmacked road, which becomes increasingly residential, signalling my arrival at Hamsey Green and the end of part 1 of this walk. Part 2 takes in two valleys, an airfield and an unexpected astronomical feature...