Walking his age - 65 miles from Bognor Regis pier to Hastings pier!

Just before the pandemic struck, I reached my 60th birthday and by way of celebration decided to attempt to walk my age in miles (thus 60 miles) in 24 hours. I duly completed the task, but told myself I’d never be so crazy as to attempt anything like that again.

Fast forward five years, and despite what I’d promised myself back in 2019, and indeed again four years after that, I couldn’t resist the temptation to at least try and walk my age again, meaning therefore a walk of 65 miles, during the late spring or early summer of 2025. So out came the maps again, and I conceived a route linking the piers of Bognor Regis and Hastings. As the crow flies there’s not quite as much as 65 miles between these two piers, but I knew I would need to take a more roundabout route anyway, in order to stay safe. I spent some time during the late winter and early spring on reconnaissance, checking out safe routes and ensuring that I would never be vulnerable to fast traffic. From my research I was able to devise a route that linked the two piers safely and naturally, without any obviously contrived detours. To “find” the extra half mile or so by which I reckoned I was still short of 65 miles, my official start point was Bognor Regis High Street from which I would walk to the pier, then having reached Hastings pier I would then need to walk up the hill to the station. I could then say I’d truly walked my age.

It was only a short bus ride on the good old 700 from my home in Yapton to Bognor Regis, and off I set at 10.30pm. I proceeded via High Street and Lennox Street to the pier, walked onto the structure as far as just above the point where the waves were lapping the shore, then returned to the prom and, encouraged by a keen south-westerly breeze, headed resolutely eastwards into the night.

I was very familiar with the walk to Littlehampton via the A259 through Felpham and past Flansham, Middleton and Clymping. It was surreal to be walking beside this normally busy highway which now was so quiet and for a moment I was conscious of how in centuries past these surroundings would always have been this peaceful. I left the A259 to cross the Arun via Rope Walk, then proceeded through Littlehampton; it was now after midnight and the station was locked. No chance of calling it off and getting a train home then: I’d just have to carry on on foot! After just over 8 miles I stopped by the Littlehampton cemetery for my first break, downing some chocolate and thermos coffee.

It was on then to Worthing via Rustington, East Preston, Angmering, Ferring, Goring and Durrington, sticking to firstly the old Worthing road and then the A259. It was good to have a cycleway available beside this road, a luxury I’d not enjoyed during my first 60-mile walk that had incorporated this stretch of road. I knew that the walk into and through the western suburbs of Worthing would be a slog, but the journey was enlivened by the sight of several urban foxes and Highdown Hill silhouetted against the night sky. It was a cloudy night but not raining, and the wind was really helping me. I was delighted to reach the Egremont on Brighton Road, just east of the centre of Worthing, now roughly 16.25 miles to the good. I was exactly a quarter of the way there.

Having enjoyed a 2.45am feast (M & S ham sandwiches and banana) sitting at one of the fixed tables outside the Egremont, I set off for the walk into Brighton, following the A259 all the way to the bandstand at Hove. The first part was very enjoyable, the footpath beside the A259 right beside the seashore, and there was something very special about looking out to sea in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the waves. I passed Lancing and continued through a suburban landscape to the crossing of the Adur and then Shoreham-by-Sea. I permitted myself a couple of minutes’ rest at Shoreham then ploughed on, following the endless industrial estates adjoining the western and eastern arms of Shoreham Harbour. It was now getting light and I could hear a dawn chorus as I passed Portslade and entered Hove, the buildings around me becoming more opulent and impressive. Even though it was only 5.30am there were now a considerable number of people about: Brighton & Hove was truly awake. I left the A259 and walked up to Western Road, now having completed some 26.33 miles.

Having refuelled with a McDonald’s breakfast I headed through Brighton’s main shopping area, past Churchill Square and on down North Street and along Old Steine to reach the coast road. It was great to have made it through Brighton and I felt in excellent shape as I left the city and followed the path beside the coast road onto the cliffs and above Brighton Marina, then past Roedean and the windmill to descend to Rottingdean. I decided to follow the undercliff path to Saltdean, a path very popular with early morning runners, then hauled myself up steps to rejoin the A259 and follow it all the way past Telscombe Cliffs and Peacehaven, before descending to Newhaven and crossing the Ouse, breaking for another coffee shortly beyond the railway crossing. I was now comfortably over halfway, 36.43 miles up, and it was only just gone 8.45am. It was now a very pleasant sunny morning and was to stay dry and fine with variable cloud – 19 or 20 degrees max, perfect for walking – throughout the rest of the day.

I was looking forward to the next section as far as East Dean, with some “off-road” walking. I set off by following an excellent cycle path more or less parallel with the A259 as far as Bishopstone, but I was aware that something wasn’t right with my insides. It was, I was quite sure, a legacy of drinking too much fluid. It was starting to affect my performance and I began to get worried about my ability to complete the walk. I stopped for a brief sit-down at Seaford station hoping the rest would help, but it didn’t. Somehow I hauled myself out of Seaford then to avoid the dangerous unpaved descent from Chyngton Lane to the crossing of the Cuckmere at Exceat, followed footpaths just to the south of the A259, returning to the main road at the river crossing, then striking out along the South Downs Way into Friston Forest, again to avoid a very dangerous unpaved section of road. It was a mammoth climb to the edge of the forest and I had to stop and take stock. It was the worst moment of the walk. Still feeling far from ok inside I descended to Westdean, loving the spring colours of the trees in the forest, then followed the bridleway out of the village and through the forest, hauling myself up the hillside from Friston Place and then dropping down to East Dean. I’d visited this lovely village twice already in 2025 but was not really in the right mood to enjoy it today. I sat down and went online to try to identify a remedy for my discomfort. The suggestion was to gently massage my abdomen. I lay down on the grass on the village green and did just that. It seemed to work! After a few minutes’ rest I got up and suddenly felt much better. I’d covered 45.2 miles and was just four away from Eastbourne where I told myself I’d have a good rest.

It was then a steady uphill slog along a footpath on East Dean Down – the A259 unpaved again – but then I was able to get up some speed as I descended to Eastbourne via the old town. I told myself I thought I could make it to the end. It was immensely satisfying to arrive in the town centre and, not feeling in the right mood for a stodgy carb-rich lunch, went for an apple, two oranges and a gorgeous iced raspberry and vanilla drink from one of the town’s many cafes. I was now 49.2 miles up, with still nearly 16 to go, but I told myself I needed a proper rest and indeed remained ensconced in the café for nearly an hour before setting off again at 2.50pm.

The next eight miles or so were a real test of my resilience as it included a very dull stretch of the A259 out of Eastbourne with several roundabouts to negotiate, and then, beyond Pevensey Bay, an almost-as-dull walk past endless rows of houses along Coast Road to Normans Bay. Beyond the railway crossing at Normans Bay the road, marked as only a minor road on the map, got very busy and for the only time I felt vulnerable to passing traffic. I re-crossed the railway, then stuck to the narrow pavement all the way to Cooden Beach, the walkway often submerged by shingle. I’d hoped for refreshment at Cooden Beach but could find none, so after a pause here continued eastwards, shortly joining a promenade which took me all the way to Bexhill. I felt in good shape physically and was now buoyed by the knowledge that it was promenade or shoreside path all the way to the end. I reached Bexhill and despite the fact that it was well after 6pm I was delighted to find a café open, selling ice cream. I’ve never enjoyed a choc ice so much! I was now 60 miles up and I knew that I had sufficient strength to complete the remaining five.

I might have expected to really suffer through tiredness and stiffness during the closing miles – in fact I felt in very good physical shape indeed. With my well-broken-in Converse trainers and my anti-chafe socks (plus another thin layer of sock) I had no blisters or even tenderness underfoot. As I followed the excellent Bexhill-Hastings footpath/cycleway the surroundings were so interesting, with glorious views to the sea and to Hastings ahead. The pier was now in sight, beckoning to me to make it to the end. It was also a lovely late spring evening. I knew that only an unforeseen accident or mishap could stop me, so I was doubly careful as I proceeded onto the prom at St Leonards, passing the Marine Court complex and Warrior Square. Finally, at just gone half past seven, I reached Hastings Pier. Again I decided to walk as far as where the sea lapped the shore, and as it was low tide I had quite a distance to walk before getting level with that point. I had made it from Bognor Pier to Hastings Pier.

I could not, however, satisfy myself I had walked 65 miles until I had walked back to the prom and then through the town and up to the station. In reality I probably had already comfortably covered 65 miles in total through the little detours I’d made in search of rest and refreshment, and indeed Google measurements (I had used a trusty old-school ruler!) suggested I’d under-estimated how far I’d actually walked. But at least I could be sure, on reaching the station at just gone 8pm, that I truly had walked my age (to be precise, 65.15 miles) and I am pleased to say that Sussex Snowdrop Trust have benefited from my efforts.

Would I, could I do it again? I suspect this really is it now. But even if that’s the case, it’s great to know that as a 65-year-old I had it in me to walk that distance at that age – it’s amazing what the human body can achieve. So if you’re thinking about walking your age in miles, then providing you prepare yourself well and stay safe, you really should give it a try!