Between the Chalk and the Sea: A journey on foot into the past

by Gail Simmons

'I loved this memoir' - Raynor Winn, author of The Salt Path

'A whole new way of looking at a familiar landscape' - Neil Ansell, author of The Last Wilderness

'Simmons observes the natural world with precision and affection' - Times Literary Supplement

An old map. A lost pilgrimage route. A journey in search of our walking heritage.

On an antique map in Oxford's Bodleian Library, a faint red line threading through towns and villages between Southampton and Canterbury suggests a significant, though long-forgotten, road. Renamed the Old Way, medieval pilgrims are thought to have travelled this route to reach the celebrated shrine of Thomas Becket.

Over four seasons, travel writer Gail Simmons walks the Old Way, winding 240 miles between the chalk hills and shifting seascapes of the south coast, to rediscover what a long journey on foot offers us today. What it means to embrace 'slow travel' in the age of the car? Why does being a woman walking alone still feel like a radical act? Can we now reclaim pilgrimage as a secular act?

Blending history, anthropology, etymology and geology, Gail's walk reveals the rich natural and cultural heritage found on our own doorstep.

Genres: Travel, Nonfiction, Nature, Walking, History

330 pages, Kindle Edition

Published February 16, 2023

About the author

After a peripatetic army childhood, Gail Simmons settled with her family in a Chiltern village. Like most eighteen year-olds, she couldn’t wait to leave home and spread her wings. Decades later – having worked in a Cumbrian castle, listed historic buildings in Warwickshire, led walking groups in Italy and the Middle East, and written for national newspapers – she returned to rediscover the landscape of her youth. Now that the Chilterns are threatened by HS2, she realises how important these modest hills are to her.

Gail holds an MA in medieval history and a PhD in creative writing, and teaches travel writing at Bath Spa and Cambridge universities.

Reviews

[Wendy Waters · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Just you?”

“Just me.”

A lone woman walks the “Old Way”, the pilgrims' path from Southampton to Canterbury Cathedral, over four seasons. She is looking for connection – to the earth, to the lineage of ancient questing ghosts, to the bloody and holy footprints held in that pristine, timeless chalk and ultimately, to herself.

Stopping at churches and wells and cafes along the way she is greeted by waitstaff puzzled by her lone/lonely status, “Just you?”. Holding her talismanic calm close she answers in the affirmative and is briefly reminded about the dangers a lone woman faces – a woman jogger has recently been murdered and her murderer is still at large, a chilling prospect and one that might almost prompt Simmons to abandon the quest, but, she reminds herself that danger has always been the lone woman’s lot and rather than be hobbled by fear she perseveres, balancing the danger against the treasures of connection she is shoring up in her soul.

Simmons, a self-confessed peripatetic needs the open sky, the raw seasons, the song of the skylark, the solitary journey, the timeless chalk, the sea and the ancient path illuminated in her lucid prose like a Kell’s codex to feel at “home”. There is a home, there is a husband and there are cats, but her restless soul needs movement, new sights, chalk and sea and questing.

As Simmons weaves the story of Thomas a Becket throughout the narrative she cleverly juxtaposes his saintly reach against the raging despotic greed and ambition of the lesser men who occupied the throne, this scarlet thread culminating with that maddest of Henrys, the VIII, who systematically destroyed the priories, Cathedrals and Catholicism, eradicating the comfort and empathy offered by these sanctuaries to the desperate poor, the lost and the pilgrims seeking the sanity of connection. That Henry also outlawed pilgrimage smacks of spiritual poverty and envy. His unquiet, febrile soul could not achieve the sanctity and moment the pilgrims walked so hard for so he banned the practice and abandoned the Old Ways to the weeds and the ravages of time and disuse. But more fool Henry, souls brighter than his found ways to shine and share the light. The practice of pilgrimage simply went underground to emerge centuries later. It never really went away and as Simmons so brilliantly demonstrates there is a recall of the journey at a DNA soul level.

Her delightful companion for the last part of the pilgrimage is the effervescent sprite, Will Parsons, whose passion for the Old Ways has helped foment a re-emergence and vivification of this most edifying of practices.

Thank you for writing this book and allowing me to take this journey vicariously. I may not have felt the rain on my face or the wind in my hair or stumbled upon a startling vision of a purpling orchid in a sea of anemones but my soul quietened long enough to imbibe the prescience of this truly beautiful book.

Highly recommended.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

The act of pilgrimage was stopped in 1538 when Henry VIII banned it as he crushed the Catholic church just so he could marry someone he fancied. The act of walking as part of people’s faith was gone in this country. It still happens in Europe, there are many well-known routes that are still walked, even to this day.

The discovery of a map in the Bodleian Library showed a faint red line linking together the towns and villages of a route from Southampton to Canterbury. It had been long forgotten but was thought to be the recommended route people walked to visit the shrine of Thomas Becket. Given the almost complete lack of knowledge, the decision was taken to rename it the Old Way.

Having learnt about this pilgrim route, it was something that Gail Simmonds really wanted to do. It was walking over her favourite landscape, chalk downland and it was something that she felt that she wanted to undertake alone.

This is the story of her journey.

I really liked this travelogue of Simmonds’s modern pilgrimage from Southampton to Canterbury. It is split into four parts due to the various restrictions and lockdowns that took place at the time (remember those days?). This was more than a five-hundred-year-old route through, the landscape she is walking through is thousands of years old and if you know how and where to look, its secrets can be revealed. With her background in medieval history research into a locale is something that she is an expert at and in my opinion, Simmonds manages to get the right balance between the travel and history. Her writing feels that you are accompanying her on this walk rather than being given a list of things that happen on her journey. Can highly recommend this.

[Keith Davies · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gail Simmons Between the Chalk and the Sea.

‘Between the Chalk and the Sea’ is a delight as the reader follows Gail Simmons as she walks the Old Way, a lost pilgrimage route from Southampton to Canterbury Cathedral rediscovered through close examination of the Gough Map of circa 1360.
The author is a medievalist as well as a nature and travel writer and the medieval world comes vividly to life she visits hill forts, churches and holy wells along the path. In particular, the richness of monastic life and its complex contribution to communities is evoked and its loss in the reign of Henry VIII is grieved.
The landscape is also delightfully realised in all its variations. The chalk downs, the sea shore, marshy lowlands and woodland are evoked in a variety of seasonal moods.
The book resounds to the rhythm and echoes of footfall, striding joyfully or trudging wearily. The author reflects on the effects of sustained walking in clarifying the core self unencumbered by professional and domestic preoccupations. The nature of pilgrimage is also explored; both what it meant for medieval travellers and what the act of pilgrimage might mean today.
This is an intimate, human book. The reader feels addressed as they accompany the author. The emotional toll of labouring through adverse weather over muddy and bleak terrain is as immediately felt as the elevation of spirits arising from striding out in fine weather and glorious landscapes. The pain of being away from home is as present as the excitement of liberation from it and there is thoughtful consideration of what it means to walk alone as a woman in the contemporary social context.

[Heather · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gail Simmons is a wonderful writer and carries you with her effortlessly on every step of her walk on the Old Way from Southampton to Canterbury. ‘Between the Chalk and the Sea’ is a heady mix of personal emotions, architectural detail, beautifully evoked landscapes, pagan and Christian history, chance encounters and even a fictional pilgrim, Alice of Southwick. Like the author, I used an OS map as my guide, following it as I was reading to gain a greater sense of the many twists, turns and features that make up the route. I learnt so much on every page, not least how destructive Henry VIII had been, willfully destroying the monasteries and their beneficial role in society, and even outlawing pilgrimage. I would recommend this book to anyone who loves the British countryside and its history, and who savours a slower pace of life. It’s a book that I will revisit and happily draw on for inspiration as I plan my own future journey on the Old Way.

[Jenny Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

Many travel books are situated in exotic places, places characterised by different habitats, cultures, or food. Between the Chalk and the Sea is set in southern England and, with its hook of a modern day pilgrimage, it brings a different dimension to travel writing. In these times of climate change, perhaps we will see an increase in travel writing in which the author uses sustainable travel to beguile the reader.
I read this book slowly. Perhaps this was an unconscious need to walk through the book as if I were the pilgrim. Gail Simmons already has a well-deserved reputation as a travel writer so I anticipated a quality journey and that is what I found.
The book is an account of Gail’s pilgrimage, a 240 mile journey, from Southampton to Canterbury, the Old Way. She completed her journey in four stages, all as a lone walker. Gail has a strong affinity with chalk. She sees herself as someone ‘shaped, sculpted and smoothed by chalk’ and that it has ‘defined by history too, and has made me who I am’. Living now in North Yorkshire no longer grounded on chalk it is no surprise that she chose to embark on a journey underlain largely by chalk.
Given Gail’s background in Medieval History, there is an authenticity to her accounts of the historical provenance of the places she visits. She has a zest to learn much about the places that she visits and she articulates this well.
Much of the book gives the impression of ‘aloneness’, but not ‘loneliness’. Gail seems to meet few people on her journey, giving credence to the nature of chalk landscapes where it is possible to travel for miles and not meet anyone. When she does encounter someone she writes about them with interest and warmth. The book conveys an overwhelming sense of confidence and conviction. Yes, Gail does encounter wrong turns, cul-de-sacs, but her preparation was clearly intensive and meticulous, so these are minimal.
Any hint of discontent appears in the chapter ‘Imbolc Revisited’. In contrast to the positive tone of much of the book, the section on her walk towards Ashburnham Forge hints at despondency: ‘This was the lowest point in my journey so far’; in contrast to the crystalline light of her walk over the Downs, this section found her ‘drenched and disheartened’; and, saddest of all, ‘Here on the Weald, trudging through waterlogged fields and leafless woods, I felt bleak, I missed home, I missed Richard [her husband], and I missed my cats’. Gail reflects on this and recognises that ‘You set off with high hopes, but there comes a point when you wonder why you’re putting yourself through this ordeal’. I am sure that many pilgrims, past or present, could relate to this. I was assured by Gail’s account of negative emotions. At times, the lack of self-centredness or accounts of fatigue or pain, left me wondering was this some wonder woman who could stride off on this journey and encounter few problems.
Between the Chalk and the Sea is an excellent, well-written book. Somehow, Gail writes in a rhythm that makes the reader feel as if they too are walking beside her. As she nears Canterbury she decides to take the final ‘twenty seductive miles’ slowly. I too felt that as I approached the final pages of the book. I didn’t want to end this foray into chalk, walking and pilgrimage. This is not only an account of a lone female walker embracing several seasons of the year, but it is also filled with the fascinating ecology and geography of chalk environments, and absorbing accounts of the history of sites that she visits. I recommend it highly.

[Sophy H · Rating 5 out of 5]

* Reviewing the paperback version not hardcover

This was a brilliant read. I've had a rough week or so for various reasons and this book has been like a beautiful salve for the soul; a slowly digested and nourishing experience.

Gail Simmons has an easy conversational style of writing, all the while subtly imparting facts and tidbits of information. Though I'm not religious, I, like Simmons find churches and graveyards fascinating and the idea of pilgrimage walks are captivating.

I was truly spellbound by the writing here and learned a lot about Thomas Becket, the destruction of the church by Henry 8th, chalk landscapes and the act of pilgrimage.

A 5 star fabulous read that gave me a lot of comfort through a difficult time.

[Judith Jung · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book and learnt a lot about medieval pilgrimages after Thomas a Becket was killed in Canterbury, and the churches and monastic buildings the pilgrims visited along the way - hadn't realised there were so many- often just ruins and remnants now, tucked away in the Hampshire/Sussex/Kent countryside.

Unlike some travel writers the author didn't digress into flights of fancy or impose her opinions on us (apart from Brexit!).

She described the vulnerability of being a woman walking alone through the countryside. It was OK on the Downs because there were people around and you could see a long way,but she didn't like walking through woods so much. This wasn't done in a heavy handed way . I liked the way that she trod lightly on the landscape. it wasn't all about her.

[Giles Watson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Heeding the Ancient Call to Pilgrimage
Review of Gail Simmons, Between the Chalk and the Sea, Headline Publishing, 2022.
Giles Watson

At the beginning of Between the Chalk and the Sea, Gail Simmons is at home in Yorkshire, poring over a poster of the Gough Map, one of Britain’s most accomplished works of medieval cartography. There is a red line on the map, wending its way from Southampton to Canterbury, via Chichester, Battle and Winchelsea – a line to which historians have paid scant attention, but which has sown in Simmons the seeds of a beautiful idea: she will walk this ancient pilgrim’s route in stages, reconnecting with the chalk landscapes of her own past, following in the footsteps of other women who have walked great distances alone, squeezing her journey in between Covid lockdowns and modern responsibilities. She rolls up the map and opens her laptop - the first of many telling juxtapositions of medieval and modern – and sets about preparing to “put [her] everyday life into aeroplane mode”.

Her journey is not without risk, but it is also a way of liberation. “Nature is not constrained by human timetables,” she observes, “and when you move unhurriedly through, and deeply into, the landscape, you are released from timetables. You are autonomous, unfettered. You are free. And freedom, especially for a woman, is a threat.” There have always been those who frown on women walking freely, or who victim-blame them when their exercise of the fundamental freedom to walk is met with violence. Some cultures have forbidden women to walk alone, but “Is it for their own protection, as is claimed, or because it demonstrates that women do not need men as much as they’d like to think?” Simmons reminds us how the medieval Norfolk mystic, Margery Kempe, alone on a pilgrimage, was abused by men on the way to Aachen, who “spoke many lewd words to her, giving her indecent looks… she had great fear for her chastity and was very anxious”. “Just you? Are you staying here alone? Oh, that’s sad,” says a well-meaning waitress to Simmons at a hotel where she spends the night. It’s a passage which resonates all too well in a world where violence against women is still an epidemic, and where that violence curtails freedom, even if it is just the freedom to enjoy a walk without thinking of the dangers.

And there are very real dangers. Simmons walks at a time of national trauma, against the background of the Sarah Everard killing in the spring of 2021. “I was vulnerable, and nervous,” she admits, but “Even more than this, I was angry. Angry that a woman could not go out alone without her life being violently cut short.” There is anger, too, that these dangers are always at the back of her mind, even as she visits churches, abbeys, medieval battlegrounds, and ought to feel free to surrender totally to appreciating the beauty and ancientness of her surroundings.

Yet the landscape through which she walks has always borne the burden of violence. Under Henry VIII, the monasteries, which “were the lifeblood of the towns that grew around them”, were ripped out of the fabric of society in a paroxysm of greed, brutality and cultural vandalism. Lead was ripped from the roofs, leaving ruins yawning at the sky, gradually eroding into the picturesque. Before that, Thomas Becket’s head was cleaved for standing up to a king, and before that, the Battle of Hastings stained the soil - on which Simmons walks - with Saxon and with Norman blood. And now, “Nearly 1,000 years on from the battle, after a millennium of uneasy peace punctuated by periods of intense hostility, we were again separating from our continental neighbours.” Borders grow harder. New walls are erected. Fresh forms of tribalism split communities apart.

In such a context, nothing could be more needed than a pilgrim’s route: a far-from-straight line through the landscape which connects rather than dividing, which slows us down rather than goading us to ever faster velocities, which wends its way from fork to fork rather than dictating the one and only route, which embeds us in the particularity of place and puts us in touch with our universal humanity, and which encourages us to look sideways and down as well as across vast vistas. Again and again, Simmons reminds us of the hidden serendipities which come with long-distance walking: wayside chapels, wart-biter bush crickets, the glorious, sun-spilled wartime Bloomsbury Group wall-paintings inside the church at Berwick, the holiness of the spaces inside both cathedrals and woodlands. Earlier pilgrims walked the trail inspired by a faith rooted in religious dogma; Simmons’s faith is “in the act of walking itself… an affirmation of my love for the landscape, and my rootedness within it”. The act of committing oneself to a pilgrimage unites us with a route hallowed by multitudes of feet, and connects us both to a hallowed landscape and to the common humanity which has always held it sacred. Triumphantly, Simmons reminds us that for all the politics of fear, hatred and division, “Henry [VIII] could not extinguish pilgrimage from our collective memory.” Reading Simmons’s book is a timely reminder that a return to collective memory is precisely what we need.

Pilgrimage has always been a unifying and healing activity in time of conflict and adversity. At the climax of Powell and Pressburger’s wartime film, A Canterbury Tale, three accidental pilgrims to the cathedral city receive blessings without asking for them. Bob, a U.S. Army Sergeant, still suffering culture-shock as he adapts to the bizarre ways of the English in the countryside, receives a bundle of delayed letters from his sweetheart, who has not abandoned him after all. Peter, a cinema organist by profession, now uniformed personnel, finds himself in the organ loft, playing J.S. Bach’s Toccata and Fugue. Alison, a member of the Women’s Land Army who believes her fiancée has been killed in the war, is inside a dilapidated caravan surrounded by the bombed-out town, when she discovers that he is alive after all. This combination of circumstances never fails to make me suddenly emotional, no matter how many times I watch it.

There is a parallel moment in Gail Simmons’s book, also at the end of her pilgrimage to Canterbury, which leaves me similarly moved. Arriving in Canterbury at last, she is carrying a staff, made and given to her by a friend. It has accompanied her on her pilgrimage, and at its end, now that she is “emotionally attached” to it, she dips it in holy water. Former pilgrims used to throw their staffs into water in order to give them back to the land; Simmons must find her own way to make a similar gesture of gratefulness for the thing that held her upright on the way. Like Alison’s experience, it is a moment of sudden, unbidden illumination, cast against the darker context of Brexit, the pandemic, and the long history of violence and division which has left behind beautiful ruins like Roche Abbey, a glorious cathedral housing a shrine to a viciously martyred saint, and our modern manifestations of iconoclasm: violence against women, the wanton destruction of the natural world, polarisation, fragmentation of attention, threats to democracy. Against this background, Simmons has walked a path which connects not only a string of places, but more than a millennium of footfalls, and no matter how secular our mindset, the blessing bestowed by the journey will be palpable for every reader. Thanks to her writerly craft, the threads which Simmons has woven together along the way create a rich and delightful tapestry, as complex, textured, weathered and beautiful as the landscape itself. Wherever we may live, and whatever paths may beckon us, this is a book which will encourage many to heal themselves by switching everyday life to “aeroplane mode” for just a while.

[Patrick Ballin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A bit of a mixed bag.

I loved the ambition and intent of the book, recapturing an ancient pilgrimage route from Southampton to Canterbury and weaving in the history and natural history around it.

Also the idea of constructing it around sections of walking in the old English seasons.

I am thankful that I know and love parts of the route already, to walk or in some cases cycle; and was inspired to investigate others not yet known to me.

I am above all thankful for the friends who kindly gifted the book to me as an aid to my recovery from recent surgery, and encouragement to get walking again on the hills of the South Downs (and beyond).

There were times though when I muttered into my beard as I read. About repetitions that could have been better edited: repeats of fact, theme or even exact phrase. Following the route of an old map and infelicitously, inaccurately, describing it as “uncharted”. Literally, maybe pedantically, not so. A few slips of fact that could have been checked, like the reference to the hill on the high street of Lewes as Cliffe High Street. It isn’t, it’s School Hill. Cliffe High Street is its continuation across the River Ouse in what used to be the sister settlement of Cliffe.

It’s a shame that small and correctable things like these detracted from what could and should have been an excellent read, and made it just an interesting read. Albeit one that will encourage me to walk some of the Old Way, passing as it does near where I have made my home, between the chalk and the sea.

[Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this account of walking an old pilgrimage route from Southampton to Canterbury. I have walked the South Downs Way and the North Downs Way myself and it was lovely to see these routes and the landscape described from a different perspective. There were loads of interesting historical details about the area and pilgrimage in general and lots about the landscape, wildflowers along the way. The walk was undertaken in 6 different seasons linked to ancient Celtic festivals, so we saw the landscape at different times of year and in different weathers.

I liked how we lived with Gail through the ups-and-downs, both physically climbing the downs and also with her moods, as that is exactly how walking like this is.

[Sarah Goodman · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read in two spurts ....never read a walking memoir before which was interesting. Couldnt help but admire the dogged determination of this gritty Lady who walks 240 miles on her own at the age of 60 . It's less about the distance more about the sense of freedom she inspires i.e why shouldn't women on their own be able to walk ...with the then current murder of Sarah Everard. She also intersperses history of what is known of the Old Way and the Early Pilgrims who walked it, and as a long distance walker myself can appreciate the beauty and tranquility of a churchyard to rest in. What let it down was an element of repetitiveness and more description of landscapes than I'm used to ...much as I love skylarks and chalk !

[John Isles · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author walks an ancient pilgrim trail from Southampton to Canterbury, visiting some places familiar to me from younger days, and many others that were new to me. Along the way she regales us with snippets of history, reminiscences of other places, and identification of the birds, flowers, and landscape features she encounters. She never misses a church, but some are closed, and those that she is able to enter are not described in detail. I enjoyed following her route all the way on my Ordnance Survey maps.

[Joseph Kearney · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is an absolute joy to read. I felt I was walking right along with the author on the pilgrimage to Canterbury from Southampton. All the history of that marvelous trail is included. And what a history! Reading about all the sights, sounds and everyday experiences on the journey was uplifting and invigorating. I want to get out there, see the sights, breathe in that sea air, and enjoy it all myself now! Highly recommended.

[Missy · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book was very detailed and interesting in some parts but I found it a bit waffling in others. It would have been nice to have a few more pictures of the churches and a map to show the progress of the walk in each chapter.

[Christine Best · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tha author describes her walk, which she does over four seasons, on the old Pilgrims Way from Southampton to Canterbury. She focuses on the historical aspects of the route, churches and the idea of pilgrimage. Also some nice description of the South Downs. Quite a relaxing read.

[Keith Oliver · Rating 5 out of 5]

An exceptional book. Althoughi live in Canterbury and had met Gail at a book event I'd still have givennit 5+ if I hadn't. I don't think the blurb here does it justice as it cleverly links the past very much to the present day. Totally recommend it

[SophieJaneK · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautifully and sensitively written. One can feel the places and the timeless landscape through her words. Interwoven with interesting history and observations, this book takes you on a journey.

[Emma Hughes · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not very good I'm afraid. Didn't waste time finishing it...just not my cup of tea. Was so excited to read when i saw the subject, but unfortunately did not meet up to expectations. Shame 5/10

[Jo Banks · Rating 2 out of 5]

Lacked a strong narrative.

[Tandy Davies · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating journey from Southampton to Canterbury using mostly the Old Way but also pilgrim paths along the route. I was engaged by the amount of relics/ ruins and buildings still left to tell the tales of the historical upheaval of the murder of Thomas a Becket . Certainly have me a list of places I want to see.

[Penelope · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gail Simmons sets off alone to walk from Southampton to Canterbury Cathedral, following the Old Way as outlined on the mediaeval Gough Map. She does the journey a week at a time, interspersed with lockdowns and work, and in different seasons, each of which is described in its celtic or pagan roots - Imbolc, Ostara, Lughnasa, Samhain, Beltane. Along the way, the author imagines how the pilgrimage might have been undertaken by 'Alice of Southwick' an imaginary woman whose husband Richard was indeed a real person. As the author walks from old church to old church, her feet on her beloved chalk lands, and as she encounters Weather, history and language, she describes her journey, her feelings and her encounters, interspersed with historical, geographical, linguistic and naturalist knowledge.

The book is part memoir, part travelogue, part sharing of knowledge. The story of St Thomas Beckett is woven through the book, as is that of those he knew such as Henry VIII. I felt occasionally that some of the information was a little patronising, coming over as 'see what I know.' But that is a minor irritation, as most of the book is beautifully written and takes the reader on the journey too. I would have liked a map with the towns and villages visited marked on it, as I had to keep stopping to look online to see exactly where she'd arrived! The small black and white photos were sometimes a little too small, but it was nice to have them included. Although this journey follows a long-lost pilgrimage route to Canterbury Cathedral, and involves visiting many wonderful old religious and spiritual sites, it is written from a non-faith point of view and is a little dispiriting in that way. However, the book is delightfully well-written and easy to read.

Having walked the more northern route of The Pilgrim Way from Winchester to Canterbury (all in one go, not a week at a time!) it was wonderful to re-live a long walk, told in such a beautiful way, and it has renewed my love for long-distance walking - am about to walk from Coventry Cathedral to Bath Abbey, some 220 miles, all in one go!