The guide
Hastings
East Sussex, England
The tall black net shops on the Stade — Hastings' fishing heritage on the shingle. (Photo: Shutterstock)
Getting there
London Charing Cross → Hastings — direct with Southeastern trains (calling at Waterloo East and London Bridge), fastest about 1h30, typically around 1h40. Roughly hourly on weekdays, Saturdays and Sundays.
Famous for
The town that gave its name to 1066 — though the battle was actually fought six miles away at Battle — Hastings is England's most storied seaside: a working shingle beach where the fishing fleet still launches from the shore, tall black net shops on the Stade, Norman castle ruins on West Hill, and an Old Town of crooked streets that never quite grew up.
Where to eat
Fresh from the day boats — Hastings eats off the sea. (Stock photo)
- Webbe's Rock-a-Nore — The seafront seafood flagship on Rock-a-Nore Road — fish landed yards from the door, and the town's most-reviewed restaurant.
- St Clement's — Old Town fine-dining seafood on the High Street — fresh, light cooking in a listed building, a local celebration favourite.
- Rock a Nore Kitchen — Relaxed seafront café-restaurant right on the Stade — breakfast through dinner with the fishing boats for company.
- Undercliffe House — Seafood and British classics done properly — one of the town's highest-rated kitchens, worth the short walk.
What to do
Hastings Castle — William the Conqueror's first English castle, on West Hill. (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)
The pier, rebuilt in 2016 — an open deck over the sea, made for slow walks. (Photo: Toob)
- The Stade & net shops — Walk the shingle beach past the tall black net shops and watch the fishing fleet winched up the shore — a working beach, not a museum.
- Hastings Castle — Norman ruins on West Hill — the first castle William the Conqueror built in England, with big views over the Old Town and the Channel.
- East Hill & West Hill Lifts — The Victorian cliff railways — the East Hill Lift is the steepest funicular in the UK, climbing to the country park and coastal walks.
- Hastings Pier — Stroll the rebuilt pier — open deck, sea air, and the best straight-on view of the seafront.
- Hastings Contemporary — The black-tiled gallery on the Stade (the old Jerwood) — modern British art, open Wednesday to Sunday.
- Old Town — Wander George Street's independent shops, pubs and cafés — the crooked, characterful heart of the town.
- Alexandra Park — The Victorian park behind the town — ponds, gardens and a bandstand for a green breather.
- Battle Abbey — Six miles inland at Battle, on the same rail line — the real 1066 battlefield and abbey ruins (English Heritage).
Jess's favourite Hastings Aquarium on Rock-a-Nore Road (the town's seafront aquarium, formerly Blue Reef)
an underwater walk-through tunnel with sharks and rays gliding overhead, plus seahorses, pufferfish and Baxter the giant Pacific octopus. Open daily, 10am–6pm.
Good to know: Hastings is hilly: the castle sits on West Hill and the Old Town lanes climb, so wear flat shoes and let the cliff lifts do the work. Eat and wander in the Old Town (George Street) rather than the new town centre. Best time: late spring to early autumn for long beach days — though the Stade's fishermen work year-round. In winter the cliff lifts run weekends only.
Jess plans her trips the week before, but trains have a mind of their own. Routes, times and fares in these guides were checked at the time of writing — engineering works, timetable changes and last-minute alterations can still happen. Please check your journey before you travel (National Rail Enquiries or the Trainline app) — and if a replacement bus sneaks in, we hope the day makes up for it.
Read Jess's diary of the day ↓
Jess's Day Off · Diary No. 23
Hastings: net shops, the castle, and Baxter the octopus
Hastings, East Sussex
One hour and forty minutes. That is all it took, Charing Cross to Hastings — time for a flask of tea, half a cheese sandwich, and Barnaby's latest dictation (a hedgehog, a fishing net, and a crab with strong opinions — I am not allowed to say more). The carriage smelled faintly of tar and salt before we'd even left London Bridge. That might have been my imagination. It was not, however, my imagination that I nearly left my notebook on the seat. Again.
The arrival
Hastings station, and I walked straight for the sea, because that is what you do. Down through the town, and then suddenly the shingle: the Stade, all grey pebbles and fishing boats winched up the beach like beached whales, and behind them the net shops — tall black wooden sheds, three storeys of tarred weatherboard, standing in a crooked row like a committee of giants. No lion roars. No parrot opinions. Just gulls, and the smell of diesel and salt, and the clack of shingle under my boots.
The walk
First stop: West Hill, for the castle. The climb is no joke — my zookeeper legs are built for flat enclosures and emergency sprints, not Norman hillsides — but the ruins were worth every puff: William the Conqueror's first English castle, all broken arches and wind, with the whole Old Town spread below and France somewhere out there beyond the haze.
Then my mandatory wrong turn. I meant to head for the pier and instead followed a sign down a steep twitten — one of those ancient alleyways barely wider than my shoulders — which deposited me, triumphantly and entirely by accident, at the Fishermen's Museum in the old fishermen's church on Rock-a-Nore Road. Free entry, model boats, and a whole wall of photographs of the beach-launched fleet. Which was, of course, exactly right: the wrong turn is usually the right one. The pier got its slow walk afterwards anyway — out to the end and back, sea on both sides, gulls supervising.
Animals spotted: herring gulls in furious negotiation over a chip, a cormorant drying its wings on a groyne like a tiny black dragon, shore crabs in the rock pools at the Stade's edge, and — from the clifftop — a grey seal's head bobbing in the swell off the East Hill. I waved. It did not wave back. Professional courtesy, probably.
The café
On Rock-a-Nore Road I found a little seafront café, ordered the biggest hot chocolate they had, and drank it watching the fishing boats come back in. The man at the next table was mending a net with the speed of someone who has done it ten thousand times, and I sat there thinking that zookeeping and net-mending are probably the same job: patience, knots, and things that wriggle.
The aquarium
And then the afternoon's whole reason: Hastings Aquarium, right there on the seafront. Through the underwater tunnel with sharks and rays gliding overhead — I may have gasped out loud, and I am not ashamed — past the seahorses (tiny horses! of the sea! the name never gets old) and the pufferfish, and then Baxter. Baxter the giant Pacific octopus, pressed up against the glass, watching me with one enormous thoughtful eye. I stood there for a full ten minutes while he watched me back. Keeper to keeper. It was the best conversation I had all day.
Home
Back in London by early evening, shingle-dust on my boots and salt in my hair. Tired, fish-happy, notebook full. Happy.
Story seed
The net shops did it. I'm writing a scene where Pinafor finds a row of tall black sheds on the shore of the Great Pond and is convinced they are sleeping giants — and leaves an acorn offering at each of the seven doors. Clarence, who knows a drying shed when he sniffs one, says nothing at all and lets her finish all seven. Some truths can wait until after the offerings.
Barnaby's text"An octopus at the glass, and you were the one he watched back — that is your keeper's eye getting sharper every trip, Jess. You climbed West Hill without a single grumble, you got gloriously lost in a twitten and found the Fishermen's Museum, and you stood ten full minutes in quiet conversation with Baxter. The wild things notice keepers like you. Keep going, young zookeeper — there are more shores to walk and more stories to bring home."
— Jess
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