DAY 6: WASHINGTON TO UPPER BEEDING
I broke my fast early and with the exception of a few timid pheasants cut a solitary figure making my now familiar daily climb up to the top of the escarpment. I was drawing ever closer to the outskirts of Brighton and my thoughts were constantly pulled towards a past time when as a woman in a profound state of despair I had found myself on the beach there. My reverie was broken when I met a couple of young farm lads herding their sheep into a nearby field. What a quintessentially English downland scene.
It was a short but very steep climb up to Chanctonbury Ring – but worth every hard-won step. I passed a dewpond surrounded by grazing sheep and then caught sight of the Iron Age hill-fort. It is famous nowadays for the copse of beech trees that were planted on top…
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