First things first, you’ll have to get yourself down to Brighton. In summer, feel free to take your sweet time. Sip a coffee on the balcony, browse the FT Weekend. If we’re talking daylight savings, good for you! Still, you’ve got to be quick. It may only be an hour on the train from London Bridge, but the sun is already thinking about turning in for the night.
As you get off the train, head to the Marks & Spencer just inside the station. You’ll need sustenance, of course, but the key variable is water. On a balmy day, you’re looking at a minimum of four litres. There are few shops to restock where you’re headed. But there’s a problem. It’s the long haul flight conundrum, where the further you fly, the more fuel you require. But fuel is heavy, so you need to load additional fuel just to carry that fuel. See, there’s always an aviation angle.
Start by walking pretty much due south along Queen’s Road until you hit the beach. And for goodness sake whatever you do, don’t look right — you’ll see the Brighton Centre, home to many a political party conference where you have done, drunk and kissed many ill-advised things. Instead, turn left and gaze straight ahead: only 28 miles to go…
The first section is mercifully flat, though if it rained anytime in the previous quarter, you’ll have to engage in a little hopscotch to keep your socks dry. I never invested in proper walking shoes — don’t tell my mother. Keep walking for an hour or so and go for a strategic toilet break when the moment presents itself — given the open stretches ahead, you may not get another chance for a while.
What are you listening to, by the way? I suppose you could always hike with a companion, but all my friends are still asleep. I’ve curated a podcast playlist, starting with the mid-tier stuff, saving my favourites for later in the walk. You’ll need their support on the Seven Sisters. Trust me.
Alright, you’ve been going for a couple of hours and are really cooking with gas. The sun is peeking through the clouds, you’ve just made love to an M&S hoisin duck wrap, you’re going to do it — look at the map to bask in your progress. In the words of Julia Roberts’ Vivian Ward in Pretty Woman, “Big mistake. Big. Huge.”
It gets worse. As you hit Newhaven harbour, there’s a curious absence of bridge. That means a two-mile detour away from the coast and back again. This will not be the last time you’ll need to do this. In better news, you’re about to traverse Seaford Beach, a stunning stretch of shingle that extends almost four miles between the harbour and Seaford Head.
The path is flat and paved, ice cream vendors abound, while to your right, the windsurfers are putting on a show. You’ll want to sit down and take it all in. Maybe even stop for a drink. But you can’t. Once you sit down, you might never get back up. You’ve made your bed and already booked your train ticket back from Eastbourne. Own it.
Some more bad news, I’m afraid. That flat, paved section I was raving about? It’s the last one you’ll see, and there’s still north (or in this case, east) of 15 miles to go. In its stead, there will be many, many hills. Have you ever noticed how ‘uphill’, ‘downhill’ and ‘flat’ all have negative connotations? If you do this walk, you’ll understand why. Every time you take a step down, it is in full knowledge that you will be paying for it — and probably double.
Finally, you can see them. The beginnings of the Seven Sisters cliff walk. They are still impossibly far away. Not least because geography, in its infinite wisdom, has decided you cannot cross Cuckmere River at its source. Instead, say goodbye to the next hour of your life, as you once again head inland and back again. How are we for time?
I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Things are about to become in equal parts spectacular and excruciating. There will be times when you wish Seven Sisters still meant you were two stops from Highbury & Islington and not whatever new muscles are screaming bloody murder in the vicinity of your quads. Even so. Phwoar.
And the opposite view isn’t bad either.
I probably should have mentioned this earlier and apologies if you’ve already set off. But if I could only choose between bright sunshine or a westerly wind, I’d opt for the latter in a heartbeat. Feeling the sun on your back is all well and good, but not at the expense of the wind in your face. An easterly will provide that gentle nudge in the direction of home.
They’re called the Seven Sisters but I’m pretty sure there are at least a dozen of them. And then, all of a sudden, before you can say ‘pensions triple lock’, you’ve reached Eastbourne.
And the giant-like shadows you only get at the height of British Summer Time.
Only an hour and a half back on the train to London Victoria. But first:
If you want the wind behind your back and you’re walking in an easterly direction (Brighton to Eastbourne), surely it’s a westerly wind you’re seeking?
Coastlines to take