52 Walks with Grace

St Martha’s Hill, Surrey

Some places ask for your attention. Others simply wait.

St Martha’s Church stands quietly on top of St Martha’s Hill, watching over the Surrey Hills as it has done for centuries. It doesn’t shout for visitors or compete for attention. It simply sits there, overlooking the countryside, allowing people to find it in their own time.

We never did find the Gunpowder Mills today, despite trying, but sometimes the wrong turning leads to exactly where you’re meant to be.

Grace thought the hill was one enormous playground. Her favourite game was carrying her ball all the way to the top, only for it to roll back down the steep hillside, meaning we both had to race after it. She thought this was hilarious. Unfortunately, somewhere amongst the long grass and the slopes, the ball disappeared forever. I don’t think Grace quite agreed with that ending.

As we reached the church, I stopped for a moment and looked across the landscape. The views stretch for miles across the Surrey Downs. Standing there, I couldn’t help but wonder what this little church has witnessed.

How many weddings have begun here?

How many funerals have climbed this same hill in quiet reflection?

How many christenings, celebrations and ordinary Sunday mornings have passed beneath its roof?

It feels like a place that has simply watched life unfold, generation after generation.

The church itself is dedicated to St Martha, one of the sisters of Mary and Lazarus from the Bible. Although a place of worship has stood on this hill for many centuries, much of the church we see today dates from the Victorian restoration of 1848. Even earlier than that, this hill was an important landmark, with evidence suggesting people gathered here long before Christianity reached Surrey. Its position high above the surrounding countryside made it a natural place for people to meet, worship and look out across the land.

Perhaps that’s what fascinates me most.

A tiny church in the middle of nowhere, yet for hundreds of years people have willingly made the climb. There are no shops, no cafés, no attractions drawing them in. Just the desire to gather together.

I sometimes wonder whether we’re losing sight of that today. I hope not.

On the walk we met two beautiful horses. Grace, convinced she was at least ten times bigger than she actually is, barked enthusiastically in the hope they might join her adventure. Thankfully, they remained far calmer than she did.

On the way home we stopped at Noel Park for one last burst of energy before heading to Moo’s for a well-earned milkshake. One of my favourite parts of the day wasn’t actually the milkshake, but the conversation with the lovely lady behind the counter. She told me how her life changed after COVID and how that journey eventually led to opening the ice cream parlour. It’s exactly the sort of story I love discovering. Perhaps one day I’ll sit down properly and interview her.

Because every place has a story.

Every building has a history.

Every person has a journey worth listening to.

Today, though, wasn’t about writing someone else’s story.

It was about Grace.

About watching her race through the grass, chase impossible balls, bark at horses and remind me that happiness really can be as simple as a walk together.

Now we’re both home, tired after another adventure along the winding Surrey lanes, with aching legs, muddy paws and that lovely feeling that only comes after a day spent outdoors.

I think this afternoon calls for a little sleep.

A little history

St Martha’s Church is one of Surrey’s most distinctive hilltop churches, standing around 175 metres (574 feet) above sea level between Guildford and Chilworth. Dedicated to St Martha of Bethany, it has welcomed pilgrims, walkers and local families for centuries. Its elevated position has long made it a landmark across the Surrey Hills, and archaeologists believe the hill itself was an important gathering place long before the medieval church was built. Today it remains one of the county’s most peaceful places, reached only by footpaths that encourage visitors to slow down long before they reach the church door.