Starting at Glynde

Just over Glynde Bridge is a little chalk car park by the side of the river. This is where Gorse Fox parked the car, then sat in the boot whilst putting on his walking gear.

Next to him a man of uncertain years (but certainly more than the Gorse Fox) sat in his car with the window open, listening to classical music. His newspaper was held open against the steering wheel. The river trickled by... all was peaceful.

At least it was until he dozed off and fell against the steering wheel. The horn blared. The peace was shattered. He sat bolt upright with the look of a startled rabbit trapped in the headlights. Then, realising he might have been seen he started to fiddle with the steering wheel and examine it as if it had been intentional.


Chuckling to himself, Gorse Fox left the car park and headed in towards the village. It nestles below a cluster of Downs that separate it from Lewes.

The architecture is a bit mixed, stemming from a long history of use, but could be characterised as "English quaint".


A small shop hides just round the corner from the main road through the village. It seems to be the only place in the village where the locals can buy anything (though, no doubt, there was a pub somewhere).


And opposite the village store was this confection of pink sugar icing render and flint

Immediately after these cottages, a stile marks the start of the footpath up into the Downs... and the next stage of the Gorse Fox's walk.