Hertfordshire has no mountains, fells, moorland, large lakes, thunderous waterfalls or upland tarns. No expanses of wetland, no major rivers, little rare heath land, no granite outcrops nor limestone pavements. Certainly nothing like the Norfolk Broads. But what it does have is a striking mosaic of fertile arable land, beautiful woodlands, isolated hamlets, hidden valleys, rolling hills, sites of ancient settlements, surprising vistas and charming historic villages.
The superbly waymarked route courtesy of The Friends of the Hertfordshire Way – with dedicated roundels and roadside signs depicting the county’s emblematic stag/hart – is rarely taxing and offers few real physical challenges. It is easy to follow, and hard to get lost. Hertfordshire County Council has been replacing stiles with kissing gates. So groin strains should be infrequent. Blisters? Well that’s another matter.
It can get muddy due to London and glacial boulder clay in the southern and eastern areas of Hertfordshire’s 634 square miles. But, largely, it is a relaxing stroll on friendly chalk paths, tree lined bridleways, woodland tracks, verdant pastures and clearly delineated routes across farmland.
But what makes the long distance footpath so enjoyable is the way its 16 achievable and intimate legs can be treated as a “pick and choose” fair weather challenge. A walk dictated by favourable forecasts. A far cry from the unremitting and often punishing daily schedule one needs to commit to if tackling non-stop long distance routes like the 192 mile Coast to Coast Path or the 70 mile Cumbria Way, both of which I have completed. When you’re committed to reaching scarce pre-booked accommodation in out of the way settlements there’s nothing more dispiriting than waking up in the morning to hear torrential rain thundering against the bedroom window, knowing that the meteorological Armageddon outside isn’t going to relent. But you have to keep going, come what may, to reach shelter and a bed.
Hertfordshire doesn’t have the topography, or isolation, to ever threaten such desolation. So you can tailor your preferred walking days to how far you want to walk, where you are going to stop and what you wish to explore. You don’t have to walk the 16 legs consecutively as laid out in the guide. You can “accumulate” legs jigsaw fashion over the weeks and months. Overlap starts and finishes. Divide a day’s walk into two. Be seduced by the delights of an unvisited village, a welcoming pub or a captivating vista, stay put and then rethink the day’s plans. It is your choice after all. Take as long as you like. I did.
Be careful when faced with sun-baked rutted paths and ploughed and cropped fields when it’s easy to turn an ankle. You’ll discover how much cultivated land there is in the county, and how much is given over to cereal crops. After harvesting you may find that some cross-fields paths have been compromised. But they are Public Rights of Way by law and should be reinstated and visible as soon as the tractors and threshing machines have left the land. If they have disappeared because the land has been churned up or crops block your way, posing a serious obstacle, email Hertfordshire County Council on [email protected]
Most landowners strive to ensure the footpaths – and there are nearly 1,900 miles of them in the county – are clearly defined. Some do so with assiduous care. But occasionally paths across or around the perimeter of fields can be impinged on by farming activity, leaving the walker only a few inches to avoid being caught in stubble or toppling into an overgrown ditch. You should not be inconvenienced or put at risk. Note the location and report it.
I often walked midweek when few other people were likely to be around after checking the weather prospects and, spoiling myself, selecting days when it would be warm, rain free and light until late. On many legs I met few, if any, people apart from the odd dog walker and surprised farm worker. The sense of isolation in some parts – particularly the northern sections – is self-evident. The fell walkers’ champion Alfred Wainwright insisted a person should walk alone to safeguard against foolish irritants ruining their peace and communion with nature. But he was a curmudgeonly, misanthropic soul who would never have embraced the gentle delights of the largely lowland Hertfordshire Way. It is a walk that should be shared. I had Jackie, John, Yvonne and Allie the beagle as delightful walking companions on some of the legs, and they were far more enjoyable for being able to argue who was following the route correctly and why the quality of a pub’s real ale demanded extensive research. Not that Allie added much to the conversation!
Equally, if not more important in ensuring the walk was achievable, was my sweet wife Tess who drove hundreds of miles dropping me off, and picking me up. Often from some isolated sat nav taxing back-of-beyond. Thank you.
By the way, calling the 195 miles a “circular” route is a cruel misnomer. Examine the OS maps you should carry to add to the enjoyment and you’ll realise that the Hertfordshire Way rarely follows a direct “as the crow flies” route from A to B. It meanders, zigzags and snakes around the county in a haphazard fashion. In a single day you could be travelling north, south, east, west and, occasionally, in completely the “wrong” direction. But only to fulfil the guiding principle that the footpaths should traverse scenic countryside and that towns, however beautiful or historically strategic, are convenient stopping-off points before – to steal from Hieronymus Bosch – the “garden of earthly delights” reveals itself again. And it will. Time and time again.
