What is it really?
The UK's deepest dry valley, cut into the chalk by sludgy permafrost meltwater. Also the longest, depending on where you start measuring. Effectively it's a grassy notch 100m deep and about a kilometre long. It's been here for about 14,000 years. It's very pretty.
Where is it? Amid the South Downs a couple of miles beyond the edge of Brighton. About five miles northwest of Brighton station. Quite near Fulking. Not an easy walk from anywhere.
What's the Devil got to do with it?
They say the Devil planned to dig a ditch through the South Downs so the sea would drown the Weald beyond. For perverse devilish reasons he intended to dig it in just one night. But a canny local woman lit a candle which made a cock crow which made the Devil think it was morning so he stopped digging. None of this actually happened, obviously. But Devil's Dyke is a much better name than Solifluction Remnant.
Can you walk down it?
Yes, and above it and around it because the National Trust own the lot. The dyke starts quite steeply. It's a good "wheeee!" on a bike. Before long the valley sides get quite high. It's a smooth descent because there's no river because chalk is permeable. Further down are several brambles and two chalk humps. They say the two humps are where the Devil and his wife are buried. They say if you walk round the 'graves' seven times holding your breath the Devil will appear. They say a lot of things.
Do people walk down it?
Some do. Others prefer to walk round the chalk paths along the top edges. A lot more never make it to the dyke at all, they walk around the hilltop instead. Perhaps they're put off by the cows grazing within the dyke. Perhaps they're put off by the National Trust walks leaflet which only recommends walking down the dyke as part of a 2 hour 'challenging' walk. Or perhaps they prefer to stay in the pub.
Why is there a pub on a hilltop in the middle of nowhere?
This has long been a place of daytripping entertainment. The Victorians flooded in, partly for the scenery but also for the fairground set up by an enterprising entrepreneur. 30000 people visited on Whit Monday 1893. The UK's first cablecar was built here to span the dyke for sightseeing reasons. It linked nowhere to nowhere except for the sheer hell of it, which sounds familiar. The current pub dates back to 1955. It replaced an 1870s hotel which replaced an 1830s hotel which replaced a refreshment hut. I didn't pop in for a drink and a meal on this occasion, but I can confirm the venison suet pudding was very good ten years ago.
Can you get here by car?
Yes, it's at the end of a dead-end road up from Brighton. The car park isn't huge (and is inadequate on a sunny bank holiday).
Can you get here by train?
Don't be silly. But it was once possible. Between 1887 and 1939 a spurran off the South Coast mainline near Aldrington and climbed slowly towards The Dyke station. It was never profitable. The station is now the site of Devil's Dyke Farm and much of the upper railway is now an all-weather footpath. I walked up it from the edge of Brighton. The views are excellent. The blackberries are currently lush. It's popular with fit cyclists.
Can you get here by funicular?
Don't be silly. But it was once possible. Between 1879 and 1909 a 'Steep Grade Railway' ran down the escarpment towards the village of Poynings so daytrippers could go on an excursion without a knackering climb. You can still see not much of where it used to be.
Can you get here by bus?
Yes, and this is perhaps the best way. Route 77 chugs up from the pier and the station, essentially into the middle of nowhere. It operates daily in the summer (i.e. until the end of this week), but weekends and bank holidays only for the rest of the year. If the weather's good it's quite popular.
What else is there to do up here?
Mainly stare at the view, which is absolutely excellent. To the north the land drops away sharply and you can see for miles across the Sussex Weald. That's the North Downs in the distance. To the west is the adorably knobbly Fulking Escarpment. An information board by the Duke of York's commemorative bench tells you exactly what else to scan the horizon for. You can also buy an ice cream.
Hang on, why is that man in the sky?
That's paragliding, that is. This only happens when the wind's from the north. This is not a common direction so you likely won't see any paragliding, sorry. But if the north wind blows on a bank holiday the air will be teeming full of gravity-defying aerial colour and it'll look magnificent. You can watch the paragliders catching the thermals and drifting with the breeze, each trying to staying aloft for ages until they choose to land back on the hilltop and wrap up their nylon. Even more fun is watching beginners trying to get the hang of jumping forwards and continuing into mid-air, not just slumping back to earth lower down the slope. I watched them for ages.
What else is there to do locally?
A mile to the east is the agricultural hamlet of Saddlescombe. The Knights Templar once owned it. It has an interpretive barn and a sort of National Trust tea room with refreshment served out of a caravan. For an extra thrill you can cross the farmyard to see the Donkey Wheel. Come on 17th September and they're having a proper Open Day when you can see more.
How did you get home?
From Saddlescombe it's only three miles as the crow flies to Hassocks station. I hiked off over West Hill, enjoyed the undulating vista, revelled in the chalk grassland, lost count of the butterflies, dodged the herd of cows on the descent into Pyecombe, crossed the A23 dual carriageway, climbed the outer ridge of Wolstonbury Hill, scrambled over several stiles, met almost nobody and slumped into my seat on the train home. You might be better off getting the bus.
