Sometimes you just want to go for a nice walk, nothing too taxing, a bit of a stroll, much to see, 100% waymarked, no roads, thick woodland, ancient earthworks, buzzing wildlife, timber sculptures, potential quagmire, convenient bus stops, barely in Kent, won't take long. So here's a pleasant hour round Joyden's Wood, nowhere near enough to make a day of it but a nice walk all the same.
Joyden's Wood is a massive chunk of mixed woodland some 300 acres in extent which straddles the border between Bexleyand Kent. A lot of it is ancient woodland and a lot more of it used to be before the Forestry Commission gained control in the 1950s and planted a lot of pine trees. The Woodland Trust then took over in 1987 and set about thinning out the conifers (work in progress) and eradicating the rhododendrons (job done), and also allowed the general public to roam inside for the first time.
The wood's chief treasure is a mile-long Anglo Saxon earthwork called the Fæsten Dic, a defensive structure believed to have been built by Kentish Saxons in the 5th century. In its day it was a V-shaped ditch up to 8m wide, and still is in places although elsewhere it's become degraded or infilled. Intriguingly Joyden's Wood is still the dividing line between London and Kent, the boundary zigzagging seemingly at random through the trees. The Fæsten Dic Trail is a long-established rambling circuit designed to showcase the best bits of the dyke, and marginally manages to spend all its time on the Kent side of the line. It's also extremely well waymarked with red arrows so you don't need a map, just the faith to follow the posts into deepest woodland and safely back out again.
The best way to get here is by B12 bus, hitching a ride in Erith, Bexleyheath or Bexley. The B12 terminates in the adjacent suburb, also called Joyden's Wood, and is unique for a London bus because it loops round clockwise in the morning and anti-clockwise in the afternoon. Alight at Squires Way and the main entrance to the wood is immediately alongside, but I got out one stop later/earlier at the Post Office and snuck in via Ferndell Avenue instead. It doesn't really matter because the Fæsten Dic Trail is a continuous loop, but for narrative purposes I'm going to assume you did the latter.
Wear something substantial on your feet, if only to get through the gate at the entrance to the wood which is somehow muddier than every path which lies beyond. Have a good read of the information board with its excellent map, and don't worry that nobody's thought to mark the Fæsten Dic Trail because you genuinely don't need to know where you're going. Follow the dogwalkers up to the first junction because this is absolutely prime canine exercise territory. Rest assured you'll soon spot the first red disc pointing off into the trees, ideally following anti-clockwise else you'll need to read today's post backwards. The initial descent is scattered with premature sycamore seeds but not yet with acorns and sweet chestnuts. Greater London is just 30 metres away at this point, but we're not going there.
The next bit is the best bit as the trail swings left parallel to the finest earthwork remnant. It is possible to walk along the ditch or even along the top of the dyke, so I did veer off and enjoy the latter, but the main path tracks alongside for erosional reasons. The earth bank is particularly pronounced at this point, almost enough to imagine a horde of warriors trying to storm upwards while being attacked by angry Saxons, so long as you also imagine a lot of the soil at the bottom wasn't originally there. This is also where a retro wooden information board has been sited, the profile of the Fæsten Dic simply but effectively picked out as a white curve.
But enough of history. The designated path abruptly veers off the alignment of the earthwork into densely packed pine forest and descends through bracken, which currently smells great. The track at the foot of the valley is straight and broad, and also has blue waymarkers for the shorter Woodland Trail (which is perhaps best followed in bluebell season). At present the mud is mostly under control, or at least easily avoided, but I imagine wellies or stout boots are more of an essential in winter. It all feels quite remote down here, although in fact there's a chip shop less than half a mile away and Greater London is even closer. All of the sidepaths look tempting but the red discs eventually pick out one that climbs into the beeches, narrowing towards the foot of two dozen wooden steps. And here it is again.
This is actually the third time we've crossed the Fæsten Dic, not that you'd have noticed the second, and it's not a patch on the first. The banks here are protected by bracken barriers, confining you to a brief up-and-down cross-section, but make the most of the third because it's better than the fourth and final. Up top is a nexus of paths, a picnic area and a deliberately-introduced patch of heathland. A plaque confirms that the wood was opened by Secretary of State Colin Moynihan in April 1988, who very sensibly waited until after the storm of the century had blown through. And yes that is an unusual wooden sculpture, a broken plane, which represents the Hurricane which Ian Muirhead bailed out of after a Battle of Britain dogfight. He survived but, as the plaque sadly confirms, died in action a fortnight later.
The trail then enters a proper pine landscape, crossing a carpet of needles, before squeezing through a small gap in the fence to cross a churned-up bridleway. You can't just turn up and ride your horse here, however, because a permit is required. The subsequent woodland is mostly silver birch and again barely 200m from the capital because the boundary has doglegged round. Keep following the red arrows because you don't want to end up in Chalk Wood by mistake, then make your way across what's been christened the Wildlife Walk. This is a slatted boardwalk lined by eight beautifully carved stumps depicting, for example, a woodpecker, a crested newt or a silver-washed fritillary. And it's no luxury - these raised planks are essential for keeping out of the mud between the Dartford warbler and the badger.
A set of mild undulations ahead turns out to be the fourth crossing of the Fæsten Dic, not that I realised at the time. I also completely missed the WW2 bomb craters, wherever they are, because the map of the wood said they existed but completely failed to show whereabouts they were. Birchwood Golf Course comes as a bit of a jolt, but thankfully it's only a brief glimpse of men with trolleys before the trail retreats to follow a leafy fringe to a V-shaped stile. And we're nearly done, or at least we've reached the Old Oak where the direct link to the wood's main entrance is. I suggest bailing here, partly because there's a very convenient bus stop just beyond the gate but mainly because the half mile that closes the loop is quite dull, mainly tracking the backs of gardens and the occasional scout hut.
Joyden's Wood must be a fantastic resource to have on your doorstep, which the population of Joyden's Wood joyfully do. And the Fæsten Dic Trail is a cracking circuit, a chance to experience an earthwork dug to keep Londoners out and which, administratively at least, continues to keep the capital marginally at bay.
