A very British beach experience less than two hours from London

We were visiting family in London and thought we’d take a little road trip somewhere for a few days with my dad and stepmum.

When asked where she wanted to go, our two-year-old said she wanted to build sandcastles at the beach. The irony of looking for a beach when you live in New Zealand didn’t go amiss but we’d just had a 40-degree day, we could do with a swim, and a London swimming pool surrounded by people wasn’t going to cut it.

After a little research, I found what we were looking for: a historic hilltop town called Rye, with a big sandy beach nearby, less than two hours out of London. Perfect.

At first I worried we’d accidentally booked an Airbnb with one bedroom. On closer inspection we found a tiny slanted stairway off the living room, leading up to a secret attic room. This turns out to be typical of Rye, a labyrinth of cobbled streets leading to unexpected pubs, tearooms and knick-knack shops.

One of these hidden pubs is situated down a stone alley, under Rye Castle, The Ypres Castle Inn. It’s a cosy pub where you can get decent grub, a selection of craft pints and a particularly excellent bag of crisps. There’s a large grassy beer garden overlooking the cliff where cannons used to defend England from French invaders.

Situated on the south coast, where the English Channel is at its narrowest, Rye was regularly attacked or raided by the French. This history resonates through the town today. One time they apparently set the whole town on fire and stole the church bells. Then a group of heroic Englishmen from Rye and nearby town Winchelsea sailed to France and brought them back, along with a bunch of other stuff that they nicked once before.

Rye’s historical association with the sea has included providing ships for the service of the Crown in times of war, and the odd bout of smuggling. The Mermaid Inn, apparently once used by the notorious Hawkhurst Gang, is on a quaint cobbled lane named Mermaid Street.

It’s one of the oldest pubs in England – “re-built” in 1420 – it’s one of those places you step inside and comment on how short people used to be. Rye Waterworks Micropub is a super little spot if you can get a seat. The Standard Inn is a bigger pub, with decent fish and chips, and a number of incredibly posh teenage waiters on their summer jobs.

With high expectations we set off on our beach trip to Camber Sands. The beach is an expanse of sand and dunes. You’re greeted by a complicated pay carpark, an enormous shop of plastic floaty junk, a few fenced-off swings and a caged trampoline manned by a particularly grumpy old codger. A reminder that England has been around long enough to ruin some pretty idyllic scenery in order to monetise from tourists.

Not sure if the tide was out but the sea was a long walk away, and despite it being a warm day, it was anti-socially windy. This is often the case apparently, as the clay-like, cold English Channel creates some kind of wind tunnel. A swim wasn’t at all tempting.

Our daughter didn’t care, she got what she came for: ice cream, a five-minute bounce on a trampoline and building more than 20 sand castles. She was even treated to an inflatable ball from her doting grandparents, that blew about a mile across the beach in the wind to be retrieved by a kind teenage boy, just in time for us to not have to pay for even more parking.

Back in town later that day, we did something that isn’t superior in New Zealand: cream teas. Rye’s Cobbles Tea Room does a great loose leafed tea, and even stretches to gluten-free scones and chocolate cake for the two gluten intolerant men in our family. To be consumed in a little historic room or stone-walled garden. Can’t go wrong.

The National Trust’s Lamb House was never open at a time we could go, but generally recommend visiting the historic sites the National Trust looks after if you’re into learning English history. Rye is also known for its funky-looking oast houses. Many have been converted into private residences, however a few, like the Playden Oasts Inn, are open to the public. Rye also has long history with writers. As you idle to the pub, you might come by the house of Henry James or the grave of Spike Milligan.

Another enjoyable activity for kids is Rye Harbour Nature Reserve. Avoiding a few holiday parks that look like they belong in a British murder-mystery, you come across a walkway to the recently erected Discovery Centre, which describes the nature reserves many species of wildlife.

We saw a number of different types of birds en route to the pebbled, Winchelsea Beach. Again it was windy and unwelcoming a swim – who knows what lies in the depths of that slate-like water. Instead, we enjoyed collecting pebbles.

Camber Castle is on a long, un-signposted, but flat, immaculate walk through fields of sheep, and swans on small channels of water. The ruin is an unusually unaltered artillery fort designed to guard the port of Rye. They do guided tours, a lot can be seen from the outside. It’s a cool looking building from afar and a nice walk for kids, especially when a farmer boy starts performing rescue missions on sheep trapped in mud.

We wouldn’t be Kiwi if we didn’t seek out somewhere with a tasty breakfast and decent coffee. Thanks to Google reviews, we found The Fig. It’s also close to some steep steps down to a children’s playground, a locally made chocolate shop and a German ice cream parlour.

I wouldn’t visit Rye expecting a NZ-level beach experience like we naively did, but I would for a little break from London, to feel the weight of English history; for unspoiled cobbled streets, smuggler’s pubs, and excellent cream teas. Just be aware of the frequent flash cars racing down streets narrow enough for carts and horses.

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