The cat is lost but St Ethelburga's well
I had researched the route, stocked up on supplies and found out that I needed to arrive by 11:20 in order to catch the train back. However, I hadn’t charged my phone, this was an oversight that would dog my run. As John always tells me ‘Fail to plan, plan to fail.’ One day I’ll listen to him.
Just two miles into the run and I was on top of Castle Hill overlooking the town. I headed west with the sun behind me, already warm on my back. The trail follows the top of the hills and then plunges down a steep descent into the village of Peene. From here I picked up the signs for the Elham Valley Way and headed north-west along the old railway line which last ran in 1947.
The birds were in full song and I picked out Blackbirds, Skylarks, Wrens, Warblers, Dunnocks, Magpies, and Tits among the orchestra with Woodpeckers providing the percussion. Tree tops arced overhead leaving puddles of dappled light beneath my feet and a smile on my face.
The trail forked left and led me over a couple of stiles and along beside the Seabrook Stream. A small bridge followed by another stile took me into a field of sheep and up a steep slope and into the edge of a wood. Even at 7am I appreciated the shade it provided as I skipped and leapt over tree roots, nettles and brambles. Eventually I emerged by the radio mast on Tolsford Hill.
The path descended towards Lyminge and despite a short unplanned detour I soon arrived in the village. Here I discovered St Ethelburga’s Well and chatted to a lovely elderly woman and her yapping dog.
The next stage was a straight run along the Nailbourne river which also used to be a railway line but has now been ploughed over. As I approached Elham my phone was down to 15% battery and losing power fast. I needed to do something urgently as not only was this my route finder it was also my camera and the only way to record my run as I had forgotten my watch. John’s words continued to echo around my head…
There was a village store in Elham and thankfully they stocked USB cables that fitted my phone. Unfortunately, their card reader wasn’t working. I came to an agreement with the shopkeeper that I would ‘borrow’ the lead and have a coffee in Abbots Fireside, a quaint pub next door while she tried to fix it. The landlady kindly lent me a plug and use of their electricity. I sat outside in the sun and stroked the old, fat Labrador that lay beside me.
Half an hour later both my phone and I had recharged a little and the card reader had decided to play. Everyone was happy and I set off again.
This was where the sign reading ‘Area of outstanding natural beauty’ came into its own. The views across Hall Downs were glorious. The lush meadows were carpeted with buttercups and daisies. The trees were puffed up with their vivid green spring leaves and rabbits darted across my path.
Maybe I was lost in revelry at the stunning scenes before me, or perhaps I just can’t read maps, but I was soon lost. It took me half an hour, an extra 2-3 miles and 10% battery power to realise I was heading south east instead of north west! Eventually I discovered another marker pointing me in the right direction. I had lost time though and the clock was now ticking if I was going to make it to the train on time.
I continued to run past Elham Valley Vineyards and up a steep climb up Baldock downs. I soon plunged into the 455 acre Covert Wood, full of Conifers and Sweet Chestnut trees. There were a number of dog walkers and mountain bikers preparing to go into the wood and we exchanged cheery greetings.
The trail headed towards Barham and then took a dog leg left into Kingston. By now my phone was back down to less than 10% and I still had 6 miles to go. I thought about knocking on a door when I spotted some people in the village hall. They were setting up for a wedding reception but kindly allowed me to borrow their charger for 15 minutes while they finished off. Hopefully Matt and Ellie enjoyed what looked like an incredible event on a perfect day.
By now I was having to focus more on my pace than the scenery around me, but as I ran through Bourne Park I couldn’t help draw breath at the sight of Bourne House, considered the finest Queen Anne building in Kent, and the vast lake before it.
My legs were tiring now as I chomped down the last of my flapjack, emptying my breast bottles to wash it down. It was very hot, and I was using my buff to protect my neck from the sun. I could hear the motorway nearby and knew that I had to cross under it about 3 miles from Canterbury. I had 45 minutes until the train departed. It was going to be close. Who would have thought a kitten would throw everything into jeopardy?
As I entered Bridge I could feel my energy sapping. My legs were heavy, my breathing laboured, and I was out of fuel. It crossed my mind that I might not make it to Canterbury and would have to flag down a lift. I crawled under the motorway bridge and when I emerged saw two women pointing at something. It was a tiny black kitten.
They were concerned for its wellbeing as we weren’t near any houses and it couldn’t have been more than a few days old. It came over and climbed up my sock using its sharp claws. It continued up my shorts and t-shirt and sat on my shoulder miaowing softly. What should I do? I decided to take it with me and drop it off at the next house I came across.
We ran together for just under a mile when I saw two people in their driveway. I approached them - a sweaty mess with a fluffy ball of crazy. Amazingly they agreed to take the cat and contact the nearby Cats Protection home.
I had lost serious time, but the incident with the cat in the daytime had distracted me from my lethargy. Sadly, my phone was also about to die so I had to stop my Strava in case I lost it all. I ran the last three miles as hard as I could (no idea how hard though as my phone had died!).
With ten minutes until my train I still couldn’t see Canterbury but as I reached the top of a hill there it was. I sprinted into the town, barely glancing at the impressive Roman walls and arrived panting and gasping with 3 minutes to spare.
