Ups and Downs at Castle Hill

I’ll say one thing for Brighton (not forgetting Hove) – they run plenty of events, and put out good information.  Both at Sunday’s Millwood community centre and at The Geese, there were relevant leaflet display stands.  So Mary and I decided to attach ourselves to an Active for Life Programme event involving a guided morning saunter over Castle Hill.  

UNESCO World Biosphere Region

We did some further research to see if refreshments were provided or just recommended.  I checked the Living Coast website (the livingcoast.org.uk).  It revealed that The Brighton and Hove coastline, together with the Downs behind and extending to Lewes, are a UNESCO World Biosphere Region.  That’s in addition to the South Downs being a National Park, which is just one of three elements of the area’s special interest.  The coastline includes the Marine Conservation Zone chalk reef (or, as someone put it – rolling hills under the sea).  It turns out that the chalk grasslands at Castle Hill are ‘the jewel in the crown’; a world-class site of exceptional biodiversity.  Mary had already had her nose in an encyclopedia of wild flowers, and was looking forward to seeing ‘the real thing’ for some of the specimens.

We rolled up at a small car-park on Falmer Road, to be greeted by Becky the team leader in a green tabard, and Rick the Biosphere manager with his map-case full of field guides.  We filled in a health-check questionnaire, lest we should pass on something nasty or have a seizure on the walk round.  About half of the fifteen or so walkers were first-timers, and we felt very welcome.  Becky announced that this was a regular event, but we would be taking our time: expect about two hours.

Conservation - one reason why Brighton can't expand

Mary was soon in full stride, exchanging stories with Becky about her head-gardener grandfather, skylarks and yellow flax.  Castle Hill has a fenced entrance off the main track.  Perversely, the path heads downwards.  Rich gave us a rundown on the butterflies we may expect to see ‘in flight’, and the many types of flowers in bloom at this peak season.  Then we struck off in single file up a sheep track, challenged to spot the various species.

“There’s our first marbled white,” came a cry.  Then, “That’s a wall butterfly – very rare.  You’ll probably see fritillaries, too.”  This was getting very engaging.  These chalk hills are so reminiscent of the East Yorkshire Wolds of my childhood.  Rich identified the ‘scratchy’ song of a whitethroat, and, briefly, a yellowhammer.  We paused while he pointed out many varieties of flowers in just a couple of square metres of (to my untrained eye, unremarkable-looking) meadow.  Mary was right up with him: “And isn’t that thyme, and that quaking oat, and that's goatsbeard?” she quizzed.  

Mary quizzes Rich about his knowledge of flaxes

A little further along the track, the guy just in front of me drew Rich’s attention to a cluster of small bell-shaped flowers.  “Now that’s very rare,” Rich confirmed.  “Nottingham catchfly – one of the silenes.  I haven’t seen it before, but it’s on our information leaflet,” he pronounced, pulling one from his map-case.  “It’s not an insectivore, but it’s very sticky.  And this is ragged vetch - food for the adonis blue butterfly.  They're beautiful, unforgettable.”

As we moved under some bushes, at the top of a rise, Mary heard a yellowhammer.  “Oh, yes,” she beamed, “I’ve been waiting all summer to hear one.”  Then the last part of the main footpath, back to the Bexhill Road.  We said our ‘thank yous’ and goodbyes’ in the car-park.  For reference, Becky organises the walk regularly on Tuesdays.

We drove back via Arundel Road Lidl, where first Mary had set of the alarm, and then I had dropped a four-pinter of milk.  This time, we discovered they were completely out of bottled water.  At home, the B&H Bus Company confirmed that Mary’s lost bus pass had been handed in.  There is a God in heaven, seen in the beauty of creation and care for his children.