We (well, my dog and I to be specific) spent the day in Eastbourne three weeks ago. I thought I'd share a few thoughts I had while we were there.
It was a fine, clear day, a little blustery, but perfect for walking, so that's what we did - along the seafront and up to Beachy Head via Whitbread Hollow; then northwards along the ridge to Willingdon. We then came down and headed back on lower ground to where we started, via Hampden Park and King's Drive. On the way, we paid our usual homage to the site of the childhood home of artist Tirzah Garwood, on Arundel Road on the Upperton rise.
I had two things on my mind as I walked: one, the town's coastal geography and sea defences, and how the latter are going to need to be rebuilt as the sea level rises in the decades ahead; and then two, the state of the downland escarpment, as all the ash trees die and are removed, and the replanting which will follow.
Both developments will change the way the town looks in years to come.
I guess it's easy to overlook that the layout of Eastbourne's seafront is anything but natural. As you walk along the lower promenade from the Wish Tower towards Holywell, as we did, you are walking along a concrete sea wall. And its primary purpose is to protect the now landscaped higher ground from erosion by the sea. The shingle on the beach is placed there to absorb the power of the waves. The timber groynes were built to limit the effect of long shore drift, the process by which the tides drag shingle and sediment further east up the coast.
The old maps show a huge tidal lagoon covering what we now call Pevensey Levels, but the water extended also to the lower lying eastern parts of Eastbourne. The long-shore drift then created the Crumbles, the huge shingle bank on which the roads of Seaside and Sovereign Harbour now stand. Its formation cut off the lagoon and allowed the land to be reclaimed. With the seas now rising, there is a risk that this area, in whole or part, will be subsumed once again unless the sea defences are raised. And the problem is that thousands of houses and infrastructure have now been built on the land where this will happen.
The Environment Agency and the local council are currently sharing information with the public on what lies ahead if we do nothing. They are less specific at this stage on what must be done to prevent this, seeking first public opinion on all the relevant considerations. I assume what we're looking at, although it's not yet said in clear terms, is a raising of the sea wall. The present one is already a major piece of engineering, but it's less visible from the pier to the east, and at Pevensey Bay it doesn't exist at all as such.
Further engineering - so-called "hard" engineering - will need to happen in the years ahead. Its result will no doubt dominate the coastal view for many miles either way.
From the cliffs, we walked inland along the ridge of the scarp, with views of rolling downland to the west, and floodplain levels to the east. But for me the striking sight was the spreading devastation caused by ash dieback disease on the scarp beneath. The dead trees are now falling and the woods look like the aftermath of a battle.
If you look at old photographs of the scarp, you see that at one stage they were almost bare of trees, except for the odd plantation, like the one on the Marquess of Willingon's former Ratton estate. The hills were still quite bare up to the 1970s, when I was growing up. I had thought ithis was the result of grazing sheep, but apparently it was rabbits keeping scrub growth down. Once Myxomatosis begun to kill the latter off, bushes and blackthorn began to spread, with larger ash and sycamore trees following. Soon gaps reduced, then disappeared altogether, and the slopes became wholly wooded.
Half of me wouldn't mind a return to those old days of open downland. Indeed, the most exhilarating part of the walk was the clear part above Chalk Farm from which we descended. But equally we need more trees. There are various plans to create a virtual forest along the slopes with more diverse trees than the sycamores which would otherwise replace the ash if nothing were done. So I will go along with that.
The final stage of our walk was our pilgrimage to Elmwood, 5 Arundel Road. Once the family home of artist Tirzah Garwood, it was a large semi-detached Edwardian villa, big enough to accommodate a large family with housekeeper and gardener, with a wood of elms at the back (hence the name), a tennis court and kitchen garden. Now it is a five-floor 1970s block of flats, with outbuildings housing garages. The only evidence of its former life is a couple of old elms at the back.
It was time to go home.
Further reading/viewing on the subjects above
Eastbourne's coastal defences
An FAQ document on the Environment Agency's plans for the coastal defences.
https://consult.environment-agency.gov.uk/solent-and-south-downs/pevensey-bay-to-eastbourne/user_uploads/202112-peveb-faq.pdf
The Downland scarp
A talk by Eastbourne-based environmentally-minded Tory peer on plans for replanting the scarp - with some fawning deference to Her Majesty the Queen at the beginning
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8CY1c4E3cSs
A site with an aerial video of the effects of ash dieback on the scarp.
https://actionashdieback.co.uk/action-on-ash-dieback/
Tirzah Garwood
Long Live Great Bardfield - Tirzah's autobiography, with a superb evocation of 1920s Eastbourne life.
