The footpath passed down the side of a school and emerged onto the road. Climbing slightly the road took me south to Poynings church, sitting at a junction of roads.
Poynings church has always seemed quite big to me, at least when seen from a distance, however up close it didn’t seem quite so big, although it has to be said that the square tower is quite impressive in size.
Having never been inside the church I thought I should take advantage of the opportunity and was surprised to find myself being congratulated by the vicar/rector for finding my way to the church.
She seemed a little surprised that I wasn’t there for the meeting or the florist come to set up for the wedding, but had just wandered in off the street, but was made welcome nevertheless. After a brief spell to admire the interior I took a stroll around the exterior.
The churchyard seemed quite small, smaller than I had expected. There were a few standing headstones, but try as I might I couldn’t remember anyone in my family tree who might be buried here, in fact I couldn’t remember any family connection with Poynings.
As unlikely as it seemed this little string of villages at the foot of the Downs seem to have been largely overlooked by my relatives, but then I suppose they were always more Wealdsmen than Downsmen.