Enjoy a walk at Wat Tyler Country Park all year round

A short walk from Pitsea Station is the entrance to Wat Tyler Country Park, a large green space resting on the banks of the River Thames. Named after the leader of the Peasants’ Revolt, the country park holds a rich history, and is now a fascinating space to visit at any time of the year.

Related: How to enjoy a Thames Estuary walk like a local

September

At just 10:30am on one September Saturday, the sun beat down on me and Ted as we exited the car. It was early but the car park was almost entirely full. A distant echo of squeals and laughs carried on the warm breeze.

Our walk lasted all of a few minutes before a splash of orange caught my eye. Across the village green, leaving the safety of its den, a fox posed for a photographer. For a moment, my heart jumped – I had Ted on the lead, and thought it surely wouldn’t be long before he spotted it and leapt to attack, or play. What an unusual sight. Ted was oblivious to its existence, and apparently so was the fox, as there were at least four dogs within the vicinity.

We crossed the Village Green as I debated which walking path to take: the WW2 trail, the sculpture trail or the explosives trail. At one time, the park was the site of the Pitsea Explosives Factory, which produced nitroglycerin and guncotton, directly contributing to the efforts of the First World War. No matter what trail we took, we were starting mid-way through.

I felt it unfair on Ted to stay any longer – the poor boy had come out for a walk after all – so we took a wooden pathway through tall reeds and grasses towards the Marina. There we crossed paths with a few four-legged friends, and stumbled across one of the sculptures: After the uprising, by Robert Koenig. These seven, quite intimidating figures symbolise the history of the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381. Wat Tyler, who was executed for his role, stands at the head of the group, as if leading them from the woodland.

As September approaches, so does the migration of geese. As Ted and I approached another clearing, I caught the unmistakable chorus of honks in the air. Yes, a skein of the buggers almost slapped me on the back of the head as they flapped so low, and Ted lost his mind. He lunged at them with such vigour, his lead was yanked from my hand and bounced across the ground.

TED! I screamed in panic – the boy’s recall is so poor, I thought I’d lose him forever. Perhaps he could sense the fear in my voice for he stopped dead and turned to look me straight in the eye. I scrambled to snatch up his lead, and tried to steady my heartbeat for a few moments before making it to the marina.

And isn’t the Marina fascinating? Although it’s kept from the general public by a ghastly wire fence, it’s dotted with a number of interesting objects – benches, relics from the park’s history, and a decorative flower boat. In the late summer heat, the marina is a little oasis. The views from the spot are particularly impressive, so Ted and I took a short rest stop.

Only a few metres away, up a hill and stationed beside a pillbox, were the Thames Amateur Radio Group, taking part in a military monument themed event. I almost walked past, but curiosity got the better of me, and I went back to strike up a conversation with the team. HAM radio was something I’d heard of through hours of playing Fallout games on Xbox, but I’d never actually seen one being used in real life. Their aim for the day was to see how far they could reach, attempting to contact other amateur radio enthusiasts, and had already communicated with people in Kent.

The TARG members were by far some of the most pleasant people I had ever met. I was even invited to have a go on the radio, and of course I jumped at the chance!

Despite the fun I was having on the HAM radio, Ted was becoming restless, so we continued our walk through the park, cutting through the centre to reach the garden. There, we found a small spot, filled with bright flowers, bees and butterflies, and offering a little shade from the increasingly oppressive sun. Ted was starting to overheat, and perked up when we found a cooler climate before leaving to enjoy the rest of our day.

November

Ted and I returned to Wat Tyler Park in the autumn with Dan. Gone were the deep blue skies and warm breeze, replaced with mist, grey clouds, and drizzle. We parked our car next to the marina and started to wander along the gravel path. The tide must have been in, or the rain had had a significant effect, as the river was higher than it had been when we’d visited before; we’d even had to dodge someone bringing their boat out from the shipyard.

It wasn’t until we retraced my steps up towards the pillbox where the TARG were stationed, that we realised the mud was incredibly thick. Ted trotted happily alongside us while we slipped and slid all over the place. Even though the weather was miserable, we could see for miles from the roof of the pillbox; it was arguably a much better sight in the dark and cool autumn clouds than in the hot haze of summer.

Instead of cutting through the middle this time, we walked, or trudged, to the edge of the park, towards the bird hide areas. There, we discovered a couple locations on the park’s explosive trails: the magazines and the liquids recycling & acid egg house – whatever that means!

Our loop led us back to the garden, now splattered with damp yellows and golds. Dan, Ted and I took a moment to enjoy the space, especially the well (don’t worry, it’s blocked) before making our way home.

Though the seasons change at Wat Tyler Country Park, the beauty and breadth of activities remains the same. Certainly, the park is a fantastic Essex location for a walk with the dog, or an afternoon with the kids. I’ll be back in the spring.

Did you like this post? Why not let me know what you thought by leaving me a comment below? Or, if you want to keep up to date with new posts and any other travel ideas or thoughts I might have, you could follow me on Twitter or Instagram instead.