Public and Private
Itchenor to East Wittering
I’m walking down a public footpath that cuts across some private gardens. Thick, wooden slabs make walls each side of the path, I can’t see out. It feels like a wartime trench, poke my head over the top and I risk sniper fire. The owners of the gardens can’t see me and, I suspect more important to them, I can’t see them.
The public (footpath) intersects with the private (home). People want to live on this beautiful shorefront with views to the harbour, but they want their privacy too. The money to buy these sought-after properties comes for some the Witterings’ residents from public lives. Keith Richard can gather some moss here, Kate Winslet can make a little chaos in her garden. And, although their lives are about being seen, they don’t want me (or you) to see them here.
The Witterings are glorious: country lanes, oak woods and fields, a protected harbour sparkling with sails and a huge sandy beach that people drive and queue for hours in the summer to secure a parking space and a place in the sun. I understand why the rich and famous want a slice of this. But their public lives make them vulnerable, and being close to the edge makes escape possible. Slip away on a night boat across the channel. At the top of the harbour, Fishbourne Roman Palace built as a huge Roman statement of wealth and command but also positioned for a quick exit if things go pear-shaped. Queen Victoria retreated to Osborne House on the Isle of Wight when things got hot with the Chartists in London. Being by the water makes it easier to leave.
I walk from the Harbour Master’s office at Itchenor where the house martins’ heads peep from their fancy nest boxes. Like pampered residents, they have some great summer real estate here, although they will leave for Africa when winter comes. The path follows the shoreline for a while. Low tide and mud flats and salty plants trim the harbour edge. Then through a spinney of shady trees with water glimpses between their limbs. Through the trench and an equivalent in hedging that feels like a maze. I emerge at Ella Nore Spit with views to the sand hills of East Head with the Isle of Wight beyond.
Across the car park and on to the open beach at West Wittering. I’ve chosen to walk on a Monday during school term time, knowing that the space will be quieter. A few families, dog walkers and even a cyclist are on the beach that stretches away to the sea, light on the water caught in the ridges reflects the sky. It feels so open, so huge. I take off my shoes and walk barefoot on the sand.
The beach is a public arena, a place of transformation. Remove your clothes and who can tell who’s rich and famous. Transform yourself from a land animal to an aquatic mammal. Even the land transforms, sea-land-sea-land every day. On the horizon water and sky mix too.
Public space.
Chichester Harbour Walks https://www.conservancy.co.uk/exploring/walking/
House martin. Biro drawing by Sue Webber
