Hamstreet, Kent - Concise Information for Visitors

Location: 6 miles south of Ashford, Kent

Population: 1988 (2021 census)

Parishes: Orlestone and Warehorne

Introduction to Hamstreet

The village of Hamstreet used to be a mere hamlet known as ‘Ham’ with most of the population living at Orlestone, a small settlement based around the pretty 11th century church of St Mary one mile north of the village.

When the Romney Marshes were properly drained, Hamstreet became more desirable, being strategically located at the cross of the Ashford to New Romney road and the current Tenterden to Hythe road. The coming of the railway in 1851 boosted the village’s growth, which has continued steadily throughout the last hundred years. The Ashford to Hastings line is now one of only two diesel lines in the provincial Southeast.

Today, the village encompasses Orlestone parish and part of Warehorne parish. The village is twinned with Therouanne in France.

Countryside

The area around Hamstreet is relatively unspoiled, in spite of the busy bypass (built in 1994) and the southward growth of Ashford. There are many traditional Kentish weatherboard buildings at the village centre. The flat nature of the marsh means that the quiet winding lanes are very popular with cyclists. There are also three long-distance footpaths here: the Greensand Way, the Saxon Shore Way and the Royal Military Canal Path

The first two paths pass through Hamstreet Woods (SSSI), which is a large protected reserve of deciduous woodland where you will find many trails and may even hear a nightingale. A second area of public woodland can be found a mile north of Hamstreet at Faggs Wood / Orlestone Forest.

Link to walking guide here:

Link to cycling guide here:

Fame

Hamstreet had its moment of fame in 1991, appearing in map form on every postage stamp in the UK. This was to commemorate 200 years of the Ordnance Survey, because the Hamstreet area was the first to be mapped as part of a nationwide survey. The set of four stamps effectively illustrated the changes to the village over time.

Hamstreet was also featured in BBC TV's ‘Blue Peter’ as the 'base camp' for a humorous charity exercise involving climbing the 'Marsh Mountain.'

The writer, Joseph Conrad once lived near Hamstreet, and Noel Coward owned a residence at nearby Aldington, where several TV personalities have also lived. H E Bates would have been familiar with the village, and the wider area of Romney Marsh has many literary connections, including the Dr Syn books and the Ingoldsby Legends.

There is also a memorial at Johnson’s Corner (the southern bypass exit for the village). This marks where a heroic American pilot crash-landed in the Second World War after allowing his crew to parachute to safety.

Leisure

Hamstreet is a popular base for ramblers due to its variety of shops, station, Old Schoolhouse Indian restaurant, chip shop, Cosy Kettle cafe and pub.

The Duke’s Head was originally located on the High Street itself, but was rebuilt in the 1930s back from the road to accommodate coaches. The Pavilion (Pound Leas) is another popular venue.

An ale trail can be enjoyed by heading along Warehorne Road and onto the Saxon Shore Way across the fields, to the 16th century Woolpack Inn, which is linked to the church of St Matthew by an underground smugglers' tunnel. Although small, Warehorne used to have a second pub – the World's Wonder, one of five in Kent built to the same design.

Alternatively one can follow the canal path east from the garden centre (half a mile south of Hamstreet village centre) for 2½ miles and wander uphill along the lane at the second bridge to the White Horse, Bilsington. You will notice a monument dedicated to a local landowner, Sir Richard Cosway. Sadly Ruckinge (passed en route) surrendered its Blue Anchor pub to history in 2015.

Full village blog page here:

West Sussex Coast - A Cycling Perambulation

So far 2022 has been shaping up no better than 2020 or 2021, with the TV news increasing your likelihood of driving to the nearest cliff and depressing the accelerator with every bulletin. If it's not narcissistic tyrants making a last-ditch attempt to make a name for themselves using mass brutality it's a constant drip-feed of price rises pushing people into the kind of poverty that just shouldn't exist if the world's sixth biggest economy operated with a modicum of empathy.

As always, sunshine and nature are there to provide a free panacea for all this angst, and I undertook my first cycling trip away during Easter of this year. My very first public article dates from 1994 and it documents a cycling trip through Sussex to raise money for our local Venture Scout unit, of which I was a member at the time. I saw the friend that I went with on TV news discussing COVID research a while back, so he's obviously done well. As for me, I decided to retread some old ground, and it was interesting to revisit some of those places after almost 28 years have passed. - 28 years!? That's insane!

I headed for Brighton with my bike and rucksack on a train that was packed as far as the tourist Mecca of Rye. After that i could breathe freely. Upon alighting, I cruised down to the coast and followed the sea wall cycle path to Hove and the road to Shoreham-by-Sea, which is the longest road in the UK beginning with a two, specifically the A259.

My comments were quite negative about Shoreham in that 1994 article, possibly due to the abundance of industry to the east of the town, but I can confirm that the town is actually very pleasant, with a bustling riverside town centre and a quaint churchyard nestling just behind it in a way not to dissimilar to the parish church in my home town of Ashford. I rode over the footbridge across the River Adur and then followed the cycle path along the coast, which was initially separated from the 'mainland' by a lagoon.

I described Worthing as having a 'green beach' in 1994, but I can confirm that the colour scheme is quite normal in 2022. The tall building by the promenade at the centre of the town reminded me of the similar building that you can't miss around fifty miles up the coast in St Leonards. It seems that planners seem to have a compulsion to put one of these 'iconic landmarks' in every large seaside town. As I continued westward the roads took me away from the seafront for a while, and more surprising than the tall concrete finger pointing into the sky was spotting the odd thatch-roofed cottage as I rode through the suburbs of these Sussex conurbations, a remnant of days before the towns swallowed up the surrounding countryside no doubt.

I got stopped at a level crossing near Angmering and I was surprised at some of the 'big name' shops in little old Rustington. I then picked up the sea wall for some more (respectful) pedestrian-dodging, heading into Littlehampton, another pleasant town where a river meets the Sussex coast, this time the Arun. A very basic white lighthouse overlooks the sea, which I had of course visited with my father in researching our lighthouse visiting tome, 'England and Wales in a Flash.' I was surprised to find a Wetherspoons pub in Littlehampton so I popped in for the obligatory curry before heading inland to Arundel and using a gravel trail which climbed into woods, where I found a spot to set up camp. The birdsong died down and the moon was bright. It was chilly as the night went on, confirming my long-established view that an early morning low of seven degrees is the very coldest temperature that I will camp in.

It was now Easter Sunday and I saw a deer as I continued westward along the trail, which soon turned south and descended to cross the A27 dual carriageway. I headed back to the coast via pleasant villages and suburbs, eventually resuming a westward course along the sea wall. I'd never been to Bognor Regis before, and the extent of my knowledge was that it is one of around a dozen places in England with the suffix 'regis' indicating 'royal patronage' and that it has long been reputed that George the Fifth's final word was 'Bognor.' The penultimate word was a taboo verb! However, this is something of an urban myth as his final words were in fact the equally pleasant statement of 'God damn you' spoken to a nurse.

I intended to use an independent café for breakfast but Wetherpoons was just too convenient again. I was surprised to see holiday-makers drinking pints of beer at 9am, and in spite of this Bognor was surprisingly quiet. I concluded that those who do their drinking at the other end of the day were not yet out of bed. Continuing westward on lanes, I found that the scenery became flat and very rural, a bit like our local 'Romney Marsh' in Kent. After heading southward down a lengthy dead end by mistake I lost the will to ride to Selsey, so I picked up the path beside Chichester Canal at Hunston, following it all the way to the marina at the end and then all the way back into Chichester, the county town of West Sussex. At 3.8 miles long, the canal is not exactly epic, but it's very pleasant nonetheless.

Oddly, this was my fifth trip to Chichester by bike but the first time I'd properly explored the city, which reminds me of a quiet version of Canterbury. The most striking features in the cathedral (pictured) for me were the Roman mosaic which is at the height of the original ground, so you gaze down upon it through a glass window in the floor, and a 'tomb for two' depicting a ancient couple holding hands which seemed romantic in a tragic way. I also did the 'wall walk' around the city which was almost as impressive at Chester's city wall, with a view of the priory and a motte-and-bailey castle mound, both in a large playing field. I then headed for the Chichester Inn and sat in the courtyard at the back for my first outdoor pint of 2022. Well, it was a bit more than a pint to be honest.

My next plan of action was to follow the old Roman road of Stane Street up onto the South Downs. There is something satisfying about following a dead-straight ancient course which is sometimes A-road, sometimes lane, sometimes bridleway and sometimes footpath. After a long climb through woods I turned around to enjoy the view, with the hills on the Isle of Wight in the distance. I found a spot to camp behind some gorse bushes and there was a nice sunset. The night was unusually silent for wild camping and the morning was again cold, so I packed up and began my ride back to Brighton at 6am.

I had a wander around the striking Catholic cathedral on the hill at Arundel, I found Angmering to be a very quaint village in spite of its suburban location, and I enjoyed a fine English breakfast with added mushrooms in an independent café (hurrah!) in Worthing. The staff were taking the Mick out of a customer who had been on a disastrous date. I'm sure that made him feel wonderful! I followed the A270 into Brighton purely to have a nose at what journeys were like before the town was bypassed. As I passed beneath the plethora of railway lines I spotted some steps leading up to a siding that had been converted into a short walking route called the Brighton Greenway. I followed this to the station but I wasn't ready to go home yet, so I decided to ride to Lewes, the country town of East Sussex.

As you'd expect in a city with Britain's only Green Party MP, the cycle route beside the A270 out of Brighton was very good, but the pub I intended to spend lunch in at Falmer was not open on Mondays so I merely followed the route to Lewes and caught the first of three trains home. Falafel, homous and a can of Coke on Hastings Station was the somewhat modest finale to the mission. If you've enjoyed the write-up, you know where there's plenty more (Stair-Rods & Stars).