Hiking and birding the Seven Sisters
A Rook (Corvus frugilegus) framed against the English Channel. All images in this posting, unless otherwise indicated, are © John Degen, 2025.
Last month, my high school buddy Rob and I met up in London, England. I was coming from a few days of work in Paris, and Rob was on his first ever visit to the land of his ancestors. Our plan was to put in a day walking around in the capital, and then hop a short train ride south to our real destination — the South Downs Way National Trail, and a four-day hike across the Seven Sisters, one of the most stunning and photogenic stretches of coastline anywhere.
Those who know me, know I love Chelsea FC. No visit to London is complete without some Chelsea. Image courtesy Robert Barber.
We put our hiking legs beneath us in London, managing a good 20,000 or so steps on the John Degen tour, complete with endless references to the couple of months I lived as a Londoner in 1987 during my Student Work Abroad days. I don’t believe I bored Rob senseless, but he’s too kind a person to say so if I did.
Fortunately, the JD tour includes a number of very old and historic pubs, like Ye Olde Cock, and The Seven Stars, two alehouses that somehow managed to survive the Great Fire of London in 1666 and have continued to this day serving only the finest local brews. So at least Rob was well hydrated. We also managed to stumble upon a full Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, complete with an almost out-of-control horse drama on The Mall.
One must always make time for a very old pub. That’s Rob!
London was in full spring, with blossoms on trees, daffodils aplenty, and many, many birds. I learned there that my birding app wants no part of the royal birds that have been collected and kept as national pets in St. James Park; so, while I saw a White Pelican and a Red-breasted Goose, they apparently don’t count toward my life list because the King owns them. eBird did accept the Tufted Ducks we saw at Kensington Palace, so… don’t ask me.
To the south coast then, and probably the most intense and persistent altitude-changing hike of my experience. We took a short-term apartment rental in the village of Meads, close by Eastbourne – extremely comfy and highly recommended; I’m happy to send details to anyone interested — that was, literally, steps from the trailhead. Steps as well to a warm and friendly local, The Pilot, which hosted us most evenings we were there.
An RAF Spitfire in the window of The Pilot tavern & inn.
The weather was… brisk. Chilly days, cold nights. The kind of spring air that requires a good jacket over a better sweater; but the skies were clear, and the sun bountiful. The cliffs rise quickly here. Really quickly. Rob and I stood at the trailhead and looked sharply up. Descending locals laughed at us, because they knew what we were in for. Within the first hour, breathing a bit heavier, we found ourselves looking out over the English Channel from one of the highest chalk headlands in Britain.
Before you ask… no, there are no fences to keep you from the cliff edge. Common sense, the occasional sign, and some rope are your only protection.
Maps tell us we were directly across from the beaches of Normandy, but France stayed out of sight our entire trudge. The Seven Sisters themselves lay far ahead: a series of chalk cliffs that rise and fall in quick succession, each one a knee- and hip-testing ascent and descent before the next one comes along.
Beachy Head Lighthouse, and the Seven Sisters in all their glory.
Perspective is a funny thing. Half our hike on that first day had nothing actually to do with the Seven Sisters; and yet there they always were, just in front of us. We had to pass Beachy Head first, and the Belle Tout Lighthouse near Birling Gap, where we descended a staircase to the seaside shingle and got a good look at the cliffs from below.
I brought both binoculars and camera, but birding and heavy-duty hiking don’t mix well. You’ll have to take my word about the Eurasian Skylark that seemed to always be fluttering in place against the wind a hundred feet above us as we walked. I never could get it in focus, but its song was a delightful soundtrack to the trudge. Same for the Eurasian Sparrowhawk (Accipiter nisus) that zoomed in and out of my frame before the shutter clicked too many times to count. As well, a RAF Spitfire and RAF Hurricane buzzed by several times, as though we’d gone back in time 75 years, but I was too thrilled to be watching them to manage a single frame. I have lots of shots of clear blue English sky.
You’d think I’d get a clearer shot of the falcon, but it was very high above us. The egret was hunting and had no time for photo-ops.
I did manage to capture a Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus) hanging perfectly still in the crazy cliff winds, many Magpies and Ravens and a Little Egret (Egretta garzetta) hunting the Cuckmere Estuary at the tail end of the Sisters.
Rob and I walked Eastbourne, Seaford Head, and Pevensey Castle as well, all of which were lovely. But nothing compared to that first long day on the clifftops. Where sky and sea meet.
Pevensey Castle has existed in one iteration or another since the 200s. Romans, Britons, and Normans used it for defence, as did British soldiers in WWII. It was there I saw a European Robin (Erithacus rubecula) and an Egyptian Goose (Alopochen aegyptiaca).
There'll be bluebirds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see
There'll be love and laughter
And peace ever after
Tomorrow, when the world is free
— Vera Lynn
Please note: we were not in Dover, but Vera Lynn did not sing about the Seven Sisters, so you take what you can get.
