Bognor was just good old Bognor until a certain royal personage (George the 5th) went there in 1929 to be cured by the ocean air, and it was renamed Bognor Regis.

I don't know why one needs an addendum to accentuate the apparent importance of a royal convalescence, but there it is. And probably Bognor Regis is all the better for it (pun intended).

I wonder if all the towns folk felt more regal.

My friend Valerie hails from Bognor Regis and so on my recent adventure to the United Kingdom it was only fitting that I chased her up in her hometown before she disappeared back to the Antipodes for spring and summer.

I was met with Valerie’s usual open-armed exuberance at the Bognor Regis train station and I folded myself into her flower-covered car to be taken to her house. It is always a nice feeling being met by someone in a strange place. It incites a sense of familiarity but also a weird sense of out-of-placeness. Valerie was in the right place as this was her home, but all my interactions with her have been in New Zealand, so it felt oddly strange for me to meet her here in England.

Valerie's modest home perfectly reflected her personality - full of colour and curiosities - she had a wild backyard that was home to hedgehogs, birds, bees, foxes and wildflowers. The perfect world within a world for a nature-lover; private, homely and calm. With hedgehogs rapidly disappearing from England, Valerie was committed to providing food for these small animals, reminding me of my childhood when my parents would feed “Huffy the hedgehog” in our backyard at night, and us kids would say good night before our bedtime.

I was treated to a fox viewing one night also, as the animal cautiously pawed its way towards the snacks Valerie had left for it, looking around warily, its nose going ten to the dozen.

Bognor Regis is on the south coast of England in a county called West Sussex. Being so accessible from London, it is a popular holiday destination, with the South Downs National Park also only being 20 minutes drive away. It exudes an air of once-grandness; as if it could do with a lick of paint and a bit of TLC, yet also having that archetypal British sea-side resort vibe.

I enjoyed the beach-front walking path and the promise of fresh sea air.

A walk around Valerie's neighbourhood soon revealed quaint thatch-roofed houses and I learned that each thatcher has their own ‘signature’ they leave on top of the roof in the form of a small motif (for example a thatched fox or pheasant or some other symbol).

Notice the thatchers signature on the roof of this beautiful house.

The clever signature of a roof-thatcher.

I was also excited to sample genuine English fish and chips, and was not disappointed when we ordered from her local ‘fryery’.
Valerie had told me many times over the years that Bognor Regis is fantastic for road cycling and I could see why, with small hedge-lined country roads and rolling terrain. I was keen to get out for a decent hike, so together with her friend Annie, we went for a stunning walk through Kingley Vale - stopping at a local pub on the way. We also saw a sparrow hawk which sat on a pole posing for us for several minutes.

That walk took us through a grove of ancient yew trees which are thought to be as old as 2000 years. They absolutely had an other-wordly air about them, and you could almost imagine the Druids hanging out here on a dark winter's night.

Another walk we did was alongside a canal starting in Chichester. This was a flat but pleasant walk which took us along the famous point where JW Turner painted his ‘Chichester Canal’ painting in 1828.

Valerie and her friend Annie enjoy ocean dips in the frigid waters of Bognor, and on more than one occasion I watched from the sidelines of a wind-battered shoreline, as the two of them braved the cold waters for their morning icey dip. They did this every day - and seemingly loved it! What madness is this?! I have to admit to knowing about the benefits of cold water immersion and I secretly cussed my unwillingness to join them, whilst simultaneously applauding their bravery.

I got the feeling that life here could be very stress-free. Perhaps it has something to do with living in a place that has history - that no matter who comes and goes, the historic buildings and yew trees remain. Aside from the history, reflected mainly in the architecture, I did not feel as if I was in a world vastly different from back home in New Zealand.

It felt comfortable and familiar.

My time in Bognor Regis was short but sweet, and I was delivered back to the train station by Valerie after five wonderful days visiting with her, to continue my journey even further south - to Southampton - in order to fly across to Guernsey in the Channel Islands.

The next phase of my journey was beginning and I was grateful to all the people so far who were links in the chain.

B l o g

Bognor was just good old Bognor until a certain royal personage (George the 5th) went there in 1929 to be cured by the ocean air, and it was renamed Bognor Regis.