Through Darkest Sussex

I love the winding, narrow mediaeval lanes you find up in the Sussex weald and their suggestion of adventurous travel in the olden days. You could be forgiven sometimes for thinking you were somewhere in the tropics, pedalling along some rainforest track in Borneo, say, or the Camino de la Cruces, the old Spanish gold trail across the Isthmus of Panama, for all the denseness of the leafy canopy overhead, the dampness in the air and the profusions of ferns sprouting along the sunken banks. I particularly like this old lane which meanders between the villages of Pett and Winchelsea,