With the Bayeux Tapestry making its long-awaited visit to the British Museum later this year, it feels like an opportune moment to visit the place where that story reached its dramatic climax — the Battle of Hastings. And what better way to get there than on a bus named after the very date itself — the 1066, which runs from Tunbridge Wells to Hastings via Battle.
The 1066 bus route is a relatively recent creation, launched in July 2023 by stitching together the old 254, 304 and 305 routes into one longer, more ambitious line. It started life as an hourly service, but has since been trimmed back, so a bit of timetable choreography is required if you don’t fancy an extended stay in a bus shelter.
Fortunately, an early Saturday train from London Bridge gets you to Tunbridge Wells in time to meet the bus, which in turn deposits you at Battle shortly after the battlefield opens. Yes, you could simply stay on the train and be there faster — but that would miss the point entirely.
Also, the £3 fare is hard to argue with.
The bus rolls in, and even at my age, I appear to be the youngest passenger on board — a title I will retain for some time on the journey. We wind our way out of Tunbridge Wells and, before long, the town gives way to narrow, tree-lined roads, dotted with cottages, the occasional manor house, and a statistically significant number of country clubs.
The route passes Wadhurst railway station — which is not in Wadhurst — and then runs headlong into the eternal problem of historic towns, in that roads are not designed for everyone wanting to drive a car and usually all at the same time. It slows the bus, but for pedestrians, it’s even worse, with pavements either absent between towns or functioning primarily as overflow parking in towns.
It’s also a bone-shaker of a bus ride, of the sort that would have given many a teenage lad some embarrassing discomfort along the way.
Talking of which, at Ticehurst, a group of teenagers boards, and I am finally dethroned as the youngest passenger. Around the same time, I notice that the digital clock at the front of the bus only updates when someone presses the stop button — a sort of Schrödinger’s timetable, existing only when observed.
Ticehurst also offers up The Bell pub, affectionately known as the “Ding Dong”, complete with a freshly repainted fingerpost pointing the way.
The route now slips briefly into Kent to pass by Flimwell Park, with a row of quite remarkable-looking houses facing the road. Because the 1066 is a stitched-together route, there’s a scheduled pause at Hawkhurst. If the bus is running on time, it will linger for a while, and on my trip, the driver got out to stretch his legs. As did I, because why not.
Despite road signs pointing “this way to Battle”, we detoured via Robertsbridge, taking us back into East Sussex, and Robertsbridge turned out to be unexpectedly picturesque, so it was immediately added to my “must return later” list. Eventually, after about an hour and twenty minutes, we arrive in Battle, and it’s time to step off and confront history.
The battle site itself is an odd combination – a large open field, a private school, the ruins of an abbey, and a rather imposing gatehouse.
The gatehouse rewards those willing to tackle its steep, narrow staircase with a small exhibition and, more pleasingly, views over the town, the surrounding countryside, and the surviving abbey buildings — now home to a school (may be open for tours in July and August, should you fancy).
From there, you can either take a gentle shortcut along the edge of the field or commit to the full circuit — about 20 minutes — which is definitely the better option. Along the way, wooden figures reminiscent of oversized Lewis Chess pieces stand guard, lending the landscape a slightly surreal air. There’s also a football pitch next door, proving that battles at Battle continue, albeit with fewer axes.
All of this unfolds under the watchful presence of the abbey ruins, traditionally said to mark the spot where King Harold fell. Although, as historians are keen to point out (because, of course, they are), the exact location of the battle is… debatable. It might have been here. It might have been over there. It might have been slightly further up that other hill instead.
Still, this is one of those places where it’s best to politely ignore the uncertainty and let your imagination do the heavy lifting. Stand on the slope, look around, and picture the battle that reshaped England.
Spoiler alert: William won.
Having conquered, he later commissioned a Benedictine abbey on the very spot that supposedly marked Harold’s death, which stood until Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries, when its subsequent owner treated it as a convenient stone quarry. What remains today is still substantial, if fragmentary, and curiously, the most impressive structure is the surviving monks’ dormitory rather than the outline of the since demolished church.
You can wander freely, armed with a paper guide or an audio tour, though realistically, unless you have children doing all the extras, you’ll struggle to fill more than a couple of hours. Aside from the (possible) battlefield itself, little of 1066 survives beyond the setting and that miasma of history-changing events echoing down the centuries.
Still, it’s one of those places that feels like it ought to be ticked off at least once, and it delivers just enough atmosphere to justify the trip.
Heading out to catch the bus to finish my trip to Hastings, and an unexpected event occurred.
The fire alarm sounded in the gatehouse, and anyone inside the buildings was mustered back into the abbey grounds. Foolishly, when I was compiling my list of options to fall back on in the event of things going wrong, being locked inside a medieval abbey waiting for a fire engine to arrive wasn’t something I had considered.
It took about 20 minutes for the firefighters to give the all clear, and even with the bus stop just outside, it looked like it would be a close thing to catch it. But the gods offered mercy in the form of roadworks, which meant the bus arrived a few minutes late.
Hurrah for roadworks!
It’s a busy pickup this time, with a small crowd waiting to continue to Hastings. As we pass Battle Station and head south, the landscape opens up into rolling hills and valleys — the kind of terrain that suddenly makes the choice of battlefield feel entirely logical.
There’s a slightly absurd moment on Battle Road just before the Queensway overpass, where a passenger alights at a tiny lay-by stop, only for the bus to halt again barely 100 yards later at a far more substantial shelter. It seems that bus stop planning, like medieval history, has its mysteries.
Through the suburbs of Hastings, the bus gradually empties until it finally pulls up to Hastings railway station, having completed its long run from Tunbridge Wells. Only a handful of passengers are left to disembark.
Waiting at the stop is a queue for the return journey, though I doubt many of them plan to do the whole thing.
The possible landing site on Hastings beach
The bus runs between Tunbridge Wells and Hastings daily, but infrequently, so it pays to time arrival at your start point carefully.
At the time of writing, there’s a £3 cap on bus fares, so yes, it’s just £3 per trip. In my case, that’s £6 for two trips, but you could do the entire trip in one ride for just one fare. Pay with a contactless card and get a paper ticket.
There is also a day-pass, but that’s only worth buying if you’re making at least four separate journeys in a single day.
I found the Stagecoach website to be incredibly unreliable, so the timetable is easier to get from here.
This is an English Heritage site, and you have to pay to go in. Cheaper if you book online in advance, but keep the email ticket to hand for the scanner to read. It’s open daily, and there’s the usual English Heritage additions of a cafe and loo, and of course, there’s a gift shop. Do look for the LEGO warrior by the entrance.
With a Railcard discount, the single train fare from London to Tunbridge Wells was £9.80.
There were two bus trips at £3 each.
And entry to Battle Abbey was booked in advance, costing £15.38.
With a Railcard discount, the single train fare from Hastings to London was £15.60.