Looking for an adventure? An intoxicating mix of rolling downland, sleepy hamlets and wave-hewn cliffs makes the South Downs Way one of Britain’s loveliest walks. Dixe Wills reveals the highlights of six days on the trail
Photos: Oliver Edwards
My GPS tells me that the last bit is flat. Is that right?” I was sheltering under trees while a heavy shower passed over when this question was asked me by a fellow dampened hiker. The ‘last bit’ he was referring to was the Seven Sisters, the South Downs Way’s final spectacular thigh-crunching hurrah before it drops at last into Eastbourne. As a coastal roller-coaster it has no equal in Britain. I thus explained to my questioner that his GPS might be labouring under an illusion.
The South Downs Way is not a route for the hill-phobic. Opened in 1972 and extended westward 15 years later, it spends the vast majority of its 100-mile journey across Hampshire and Sussex either climbing a hill, descending a hill, or surfing the grassy waves of exposed high ridges, which can make it rather bracing in winter. The path runs the length of the sumptuous South Downs National Park and, after leaving Winchester, avoids civilisation as much as possible. However, from time to time, it will deign to pass through a small village or dozing hamlet in the Weald below, whenever the mighty chalk ridge is interrupted by one of the rivers that have patiently carved a path across it over the millennia.
In all, there’s a challenging 4,150m of ascents – the equivalent of climbing Scafell Pike four and a half times. However, since the highest point is the relatively modest peak of Butser Hill (270m), the route is accessible to any walker with a reasonable level of fitness, and takes between six and eight days to complete. I walked end-to-end eastwards in two three-day trips, with the prevailing wind at my back. However, the following itinerary could also work as six separate walks, three weekenders or a single 100-mile hike.
DAY 1 WINCHESTER TO LEYDENE PARK, 19 MILES
The South Downs Way starts its journey east in the hubba-bubba of central Winchester, almost in the shadow of the cathedral. Yet after a brief sojourn beside the fast-flowing Itchen, I was soon crossing a footbridge over the M3 and heading across a huge field, accompanied by birdsong and dragonflies, and eyeing the ridge of the Downs, distinctive despite the blurr
