Birling gap

There is an attraction on the top of the cliffs, in the middle of the range called the Seven Sisters, called Birling Gap. A place which used to include some steps down to the beach (on which huge flints were to be found) and a rather rambling single storey building made up of café, bar, restaurant and hotel. A single storey building on the edge of a crumbling cliff. An attraction which has been mentioned from time to time in these pages, although our actual visits were long before blogging got underway. See, for example, reference 5. With the present post prompted by a piece in the Daily Mail, at reference 1, brought to me by Microsoft News. It seems that the Mail runs regular pieces on the place.

We have stayed at the hotel on a few occasions, perhaps two or three, using the opportunity to explore the beach, the Cuckmere Valley to the west and Beachy Head to the east. I remember a heritage row about whether to maintain the sand barrier across the mouth of the Cuckmere, or whether this last should be allowed to flood occasionally. And I remember a barmaid in the pub at the top of Beachy Head who explained to us that she always knew a jumper after the event. She could take her mind back to the day before and reliably pick out the person who went on to jump.

I don't remember ever swimming there, but we may well have done, having been regular sea swimmers in our day. In the UK that is, with cold water, not the tepid water that package holiday folk go for.

[hotel visible behind what were the coastguard cottages. Lifted from reference 2]

The bar was called the Thatched Room and the restaurant was called the Oak Room. Full of dried hops hanging from the rafters and full of day trippers at Sunday lunch on Sunday lunch times. A restaurant where I used to take lamb shanks before they were as popular in public houses than they are now. Better, too.

I also remember a story, presumably from the owner of the hotel, that he tried to buy or lease some land off the National Trust so that he could relocate his hotel away from the cliff, which would otherwise have to shut. The National Trust, despite owning great tracts of land in the area, refused, preferring to take over the operation themselves after a fire sale.

From where I associated to another story about the café at the Devil's Punchbowl on the A3, just by the ridiculously expensive Hindhead Tunnel. This used to be a quirky and entertaining place run by another privateer - but has now been taken over by the National Trust, who have made it bland and boring. A great shame. Why could they not leave well alone?

BH thinks that I may have conflated the two stories, making the National Trust's behaviour seem worse than it really was. Still checking.

In the meantime, a slab of genuine Birling Gap flint, used to mark a corner in the path down to the brick compost bin. I think the Gap was where I learned that flint does or can form in horizontal layers in its host chalk. In the boot before I noticed one of the notices explaining that taking material from the beach was strictly prohibited. A bit heavy to carry back down again.

With the striking bit of layered flint included above lifted from reference 6. Lightwater being a place to the north of Guildford, immediately to the south of the M3, which is presumably from where I know the name. Not the railway, as I had first thought.

References

Reference 1: Crumbling clifftop leaves popular National Trust cafe just five yards away from falling into the sea - Jaya Narain, Daily Mail - 2023.

Reference 2: https://www.birlinggapsussex.co.uk/. The web site of a Birling Gap enthusiast.

Reference 3: https://www.southdowns.gov.uk/. Management of the area.

Reference 4: https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/visit/sussex/birling-gap-and-the-seven-sisters. Management of the site.

Reference 5: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/02/gutting-fish-in-dublin.html.

Reference 6: https://lightwater.wordpress.com/.