Around Britain

I caught the 9 o'clock train from Waterloo to Portsmouth Harbour. At Portsmouth University degrees were being presented. Students wearing gowns and mortar board hats were accompanied by family and friends on their way to the ceremony. Soon after witnessing this I reached the sea front at Southsea a popular holiday resort in Victorian times.

There were many echoes of war. The one surviving landing craft that had taken tanks and troops to Normandy was on display. There was also the Normandy Memorial Wall but most striking was the Royal Naval Memorial. This had a giant obelisk to be visible to shipping as it approached Portsmouth Harbour. It was built to commemorate over 9,600 sailors dying in the First World War and then extended for the heavier casualties (nearly 15,000) in the Second World War. Similar Memorials with obelisks exist in Chatham and Plymouth. At Chatham the numbers are 8,515 (WW1) and 10,098 (WW2). At Plymouth they are 7,251 (WW1) and 15,933 (WW2). That's about 66,397 sailors with no grave but the sea. For administrative purposes sailors were asked to select which of the three ports should be their home port. Their answer would determine, if they died at sea, where they were to be commemorated. I walked slowly round the Memorial contemplating the thousands of names.

The promenade had been built in the mid-nineteenth century to halt coastal erosion. It stretched beyond South Parade Pier and ended in Eastney from where there was a ferry service between the mainland and Hayling Island. I arrived near a jetty connected to the shore by a covered walkway. There was no sign indicating a ferry service. Someone told me that there was usually a timetable up on a notice board when the service was operating.but it wasn't up today. I sat at the waterside to eat a snack and think about the route back through Portsmouth if the ferry didn't show. Then a boat started to cross the water from Hayling Island. It became the 13.40 ferry from Eastney and I was relieved to pay £3.50 for my ticket and take my place on board. Whilst waiting on the jetty I asked someone whether he knew Hayling Island. He replied that he used to live there but it was his first visit back for sixty years. Nevertheless he confirmed that I could get off the island by using the bridge at the northern end.

One of the ferry crew recommended that I walk along the Billy Line. This was the route of a discontinued railway up the west coast of the island alongside Langstone Harbour. I walked away from the ferry terminal to West Town. Through an area of superior residential properties, I reached the Station Theatre which was at the southern end of the old railway. Havant was five miles away so I set off on the track. The tide was in so I had a view across water to Portsmouth. Others were walking or cycling on the path. Almost without exception those that I encountered averted their eyes to avoid having to exchange a greeting. It was quite a relief when the occasional passer-by returned my glance with a smile and a word. I hadn't become a pitiful or threatening creature after all.

I passed North Hayling Halt which had been a request stop in the old railway days. Farmers had used it to transport their produce, including milk churns, to the mainland. It was also used to collect the post three times a day but only once on Sundays.

I crossed the bridge to Langstone on the mainland. The railway had used a separate bridge but that had disappeared. The traffic over the bridge was heavy and it so continued along the A3023 to the A27, the major road along the coast. There was a walkway underneath the A27 and then I used Google Maps to reach my hotel. It was in the centre of Havant close to the twelfth century church. The main shopping area had banks, building societies and a giant Waitrose.

Distance today 10.94 miles; total 3901.32

A fire had destroyed Havant in 1761 apart from the Church, The Old House at Home pub and a few cottages. I was in no hurry to leave as, in an excess of caution, I'd bought a train ticket from Chichester to London Victoria on the 18.09. Nevertheless I was on my way soon after 9 o'clock. The road soon passed over a bridge on the Billy Line. I looked down on the footpath that had replaced the railway. The forecast was terrible so I'd packed my rucksack carefully with a view to protecting my papers and keeping a change of clothes dry at the finish.

Havant Borough Council should be congratulated for providing pavements for pedestrians. Initially this was only to be expected as Havant itself and Warblington were fully developed with residential housing. However, in the small patch of open country between that area and Emsworth, there was an asphalt path wide enough to accommodate both walkers and cyclists. Emsworth merged into Westbourne but, as I left the latter, it looked as if the pavement ended with the last house. Instead it swerved into a wood and held its course beside the road. It was narrow and hemmed in by vegetation but I revelled in it as I made steady progress away from the traffic.

The way now veered towards the A27, often a noisy presence hidden by a wall of thick undergrowth and trees. At a junction one branch of the road crossed the artery and headed for Southbourne. I continued to Woodmancote. The footway had ended just before that village but on a quiet, largely unfrequented rural road.

At about this time the rain that had been light and intermittent set in for a prolonged spell. I quickly became soaked but I don't find that uncomfortable unless the weather's also cold and, worse, windy. Near Hambrook an offshoot of the road crossed the A27 to reach that village but I kept to the north side. I passed to the south of West Ashling and then crossed the A27 to enter Fishbourne on the fringes of Chichester. By a Tesco Superstore I lost my bearings and took refuge in a bus shelter. Fortunately there was a map of the City but without the normal “You are here” feature. I stared at the map and worked out my position. I crossed a busy A259. There were no lights to control the traffic but, twice, motorists stopped to enable a sadly bedraggled and sodden figure to get over the road. I waved a cheerful acknowledgement of their kindness and soon found myself at the station. With little hesitation I wrote off my late ticket and bought an off peak single. After a cramped change into dry clothes in a toilet cubicle, I just had time to buy a large drinking chocolate before boarding the 1509 to London Victoria via Horsham and Gatwick Airport.

Distance today 11.25 miles; total 3912.57