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Brighton & Hove - Bullock Hill
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The Walk:We had a good giggle on the way down the B2123 as we passed a valley known by the unfortunate name of Loose Bottom. What were its parents thinking of – all the other valleys must make fun of it. We stopped laughing very soon afterwards when we got caught in a long and slow moving traffic jam heading into Woodingdean. Fortunately we didn’t need to sit through the entire traffic jam as we parked in a dubious looking car park next to an industrial estate on the outskirts of Woodingdean.
We walked a good kilometre alongside the huge field without finding a gate, or for that matter without managing to see the trig point at the top of the hill within. Despite its name, Bullock Hill seemed to be covered in sheep (some of which were putting on a very good impression of trig points! Eventually reaching the end of the field, we gave up looking for a gate, and instead looked for an easy way through the fence. The sturdy barbed wire fence was on top of a small but steep embankment which made it fairly impassable – we were nearly back to the path junction before we found a way through. Now it was simply a matter of making our way up to the top of the hill, whilst staying as far from the sheep and their lambs as possible so as not to disturb them. After several sheep-as-trig incidents, Jim was the first to see the trig point, but on arriving there we decided (and the GPS confirmed) that the trig wasn’t quite the highest point of the hill – that honour belonged to some rocks embedded in the soil about a hundred yards to the west. There were good views in all directions. It felt good to be on a county top that was actually a free standing hill in its own right, rather than just a high point along a ridge or escarpment (or worse still, halfway up a hill, like the other Brighton top at East Hill). Being on a separate hill (even such a small one as this) gives you that whole “on top of the world” feeling. We enjoyed the openness of the hill top for a while, before retreating along the same route we’d ascended by. I was glad to see that my car had not been broken into or stolen (yes, the car park did look that dodgy!). The traffic jam was still there, and worse than ever, but fortunately we were headed in the opposite direction, to our next top at Portsmouth.
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