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Retreating from the City: The Seven Sisters Cliffs

By: Jake Keller

After a few weeks of getting lost in the bustling metropolis of London, I was ready to take a break from the city. The Seven Sisters offered me an idyllic escape along the southern coast of England. It only took around two hours to get there, and the sights were truly breathtaking.

I departed from Victoria Station around 12:30 p.m. with my travel companion, Simran, and we embarked on a train ride to Eastbourne. It was a charming town with a few shops and restaurants, but I only saw a small part of it as we rushed to catch our bus. There’s an option to take a 13-mile hike beginning at Eastbourne, but we opted for the 7–8 mile route from Birling Gap. The trip to Birling Gap requires a bus from Eastbourne. We accidentally got on a hop-on-hop-off bus, and although it was a little more expensive (£12), the upper deck’s open top offered us fantastic views.

Birling Gap has a visitor center and a café, which offers your last chance to purchase food; however, we had decided to pack our own. It was a little unclear where to go next, but we eventually found a gravel road that led us to the cliffs. A heavy shroud of fog made visibility limited; it felt as if we were in the clouds. I slowly walked toward the edge and peered down at the ocean as waves crashed onto the shore. It was stunning. 

The first half of the hike took us over the Seven Sisters themselves. As the name suggests, there are seven peaks. The trek is a pattern of walking uphill and then treading down a steep decline. The haze was thick, but we could still see the sisters’ faces protruding over the infinite sea below. An hour or so passed before we reached the halfway point: Cuckmere Haven.

The path dipped down and led us toward a rocky beach. The sky was gray, almost like a storm was near, but a few people still swam in the water. We were in a valley between the Seven Sisters and their neighboring cliffs, with a river dividing them. We explored the beach for a moment but decided to make our way forward in pursuit of a picnic spot. As we approached the river, we realized there was no bridge. I checked my map and saw that the nearest bridge was a mile down the Cuckmere River.

At first, I was annoyed by this unexpected detour, my stomach grumbling, but as we ventured into the countryside, my spirits shifted. There were pastures full of cows and sheep, backdropped by the distant cliffs. The rolling green hills seemed never-ending, and the sun began to peek through the clouds. On our way back toward the sea, after crossing the bridge, I stopped to photograph bunnies snacking on the grass.

When we finally made it back to the cliffs, the weather had turned. We continued our hike and looked back at a clear view of the peaks we had traversed. We found a spot above the cottages at Cuckmere Haven and settled in for our picnic. It was perfectly serene, and we had a stunning view of the Seven Sisters. We were in no rush as we tried to take it all in.

Onward we went to the town of Seaford, where our train home was set to depart. The conclusion of the hike was much flatter. I felt euphoric and continued to look back at the gorgeous cliffs now behind us. On the horizon, the sky was painted with shades of tangerine and cerulean, and we walked toward it. Our hike came to an end, and we took the train back to the city. The day was complete, and my heart was full.

A Weekend in Iceland

From the UK, Iceland was only a three-hour flight away but it felt like another planet. The muddy, mossy tundra ran all the way to the base of the mountains, some blanketed by snow and some barren, with tiny waterfalls splitting the rugged cliff-faces like pale veins and venules. Herds of Icelandic horses tossed their heads against the rain and the occasional dusting of sheep huddled near the white-and-red barns. There was so much open space and open sky, and I wished so badly for the clouds to clear and for the Northern Lights to dance across the stars, but I could not have been so lucky just for a weekend.

That was not to say that the rest of the trip was not good, as it was beautiful and a landscape photographer’s dream location regardless. The first place that I went to when I flew in was Reykjavík, the capital city whose name translated to “Smoky Bay” in Icelandic due to the geothermal hot springs in the area. I only spent a brief time in my host city, long enough to check out the waterfront and taste a comforting traditional dish of lamb soup at Kaffi Loki. Visitors must bear in mind that meals in Iceland are expensive especially because grains and produce must be imported since the farms don’t grow anything except grass.

The next stop was a dusk to night visit to Sky Lagoon, the newest geothermal spa only ten minutes outside of the city center. It was relaxing and an overall interesting experience to be submerged in the warm water while still feeling the droplets of cold rain. I did the spa’s seven steps which ranged from a cold plunge to a sauna and steam room. Into the night, bright red bloomed at the horizon line and the visitors to the Sky Lagoon watched the live eruption of Fagradalsfjall with awe. It had been the fourth eruption in the last few months but was handled well by Iceland’s emergency services, and I learned afterward that the Blue Lagoon tourists and population of the town Grindavík were safely evacuated.

The day after, I took an all-day tour of Iceland’s South Coast through the company Reykjavík Sightseeing. My tour guide was named Kat and she provided insightful bits of information as we drove through the shifting landscape. Early on, we passed through the snowy Hengill volcanic area as well as a town nestled in a valley that was warmed by geothermal activity. Following that, our first official stop was the waterfall Skógafoss. There, the difference in scale between the size of the cliff face and the tourists was incredible.

Our second stop was the black sand beach Reynisfjara. It was eerily beautiful with slick basalt columns of Reynisdrangar yawning toward the sky, the same geological structures that made Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland such a draw. However, it was the epitome of nature unharnessed, and Kat warned us about sneaker waves which would pull unsuspecting visitors into the strong, freezing ocean.

After our lunch stop in the coastal town Vík, we made our way to the glacier Sólheimajökull which was a ten minute trail off of the parking lot to a viewing platform. From there, I could make out the incredibly small silhouettes of people hiking across its surface. It was immense–blue in some areas, white in most, and streaked with the dark volcanic sediment everywhere in Iceland. Ice floes trailed off from the glacier into a lake, and Kat informed us tragically that Sólheimajökull lost ten meters of water a year due to global warming.

Our last stop was the waterfall Seljalandsfoss which had a path stretching behind the water. It was a little scary to venture across without hiking boots, as some of the ground was slippery with ice and snow, and I had no traction on my sneakers when changing elevation. It was rewarding, however, to have made it to the other end and to get the photos of it from there.

Due to poor weather, the Northern Lights portion of our tour was canceled. It was always a risk with planning such a short trip to the polar regions–buy it when it was cheap and keep an eye on weather forecasts and moon phases for illumination, but it will always be like throwing a dart at a shrouded target. Maybe in a long while, I will return to the country in search of them or I’ll end up scouring the dark skies of Canada or Alaska that are closer to where I live long-term.

My overall weekend in Iceland was an experience that I am not likely to forget, and it was an absolute goldmine for a photographer. I loved focusing on minimalist landscape shots as well as emphasizing what I referenced earlier–comparing the size of the people to the sheer scale of nature. The whole country was brimming with photography opportunities and there were so many moments on the tour bus where I wished to pull over to the side of the road for a shot. A specific missed one that comes to mind was a portrait of the Icelandic horses who I’d only seen from a distance.

If I were to return again for a longer time period–and for anyone else planning a similar visit–I would look into renting a car for weather-experienced drivers as the roads are often empty. This way, you would be able to build your own itinerary, stop whenever you wanted, and chase the Northern Lights yourself. However, for a one-day itinerary with not a lot of ideas for what to see, the guided tour was well worth it.

All photographs by Carissa Leong (@carissalphoto.cr2)