Stepping off the train at Teynham for the first time in my life, I’m not quite sure what to expect from this corner of the county which has until now been a mystery to me.

The plan is to head north, through the charming creekside hamlet of Conyer, before following the Saxon Shore Way along the southern edge of the Swale tidal channel towards the Oare Marshes Nature Reserve at the mouth of Faversham Creek.

As ever with these occasional ambles around some of Kent’s loveliest corners, I’ve chosen a day when the weather looked set fair, and the entire four hours or so spent exploring the area played out under glorious blue skies. And, after some rather slapdash application of sunscreen, I walked away with a sunburned neck to prove it.

The walk up to Conyer from Teynham passes through quintessential Kentish orchards, their trees laden with a bounty of ripening apples and pears.

But soon enough you’ll feel the pull of the sea, spying the masts of boats on the creek at Conyer, and then emerging on the banks of the Swale with epic views across the channel to the Isle of Sheppey beyond.

Although I’ve only walked half an hour or so from the railway station, I’ve managed to find myself in a spot of pure isolation.

The only sounds are the persistent hum of insects in the undergrowth, and the occasional screeching call from the many, many birds wading in the shallow pools on the mudflats left exposed by the retreating tide.

The skies here are absolutely huge. More than once I stop in my tracks just to look up and marvel at the feeling of being in such an empty expanse of natural beauty.

To my right the low-lying marshes, with sheep and cattle grazing in the middle distance, to my left the occasional boat picking its way along the narrow navigable route left passable by the low tide.

The coastal path bisects the two, running along the crest of the earthworks built to hold back the waters of the Swale and protect the farmland below.

It takes some time before I cross paths with anyone else in this desolate but beautiful landscape, two cyclists first, then gradually more walkers and birdwatchers as I near the nature reserve on the corner where Faversham Creek meets the Swale.

I idle briefly at a spot where a group has gathered by a small pool, binoculars and cameras trained on a small patch of reeds. Whatever they were hoping to spy fails to reveal itself, so I continue on my way.

Reaching the creek, my route swings south past boatyards and slowly decaying wrecks of old vessels, before reaching the village of Oare and the promise of a well-deserved pit stop after two hours or so on my feet.

The Three Mariners has the kerb appeal to lure me in, and a cheerful chap behind the bar has soon shown me to a fine table on the raised terrace overlooking the beer garden below.

This being the heart of Shepherd Neame country, I plump for a pint of Master Brew to accompany a very decent cheeseburger and fries.

All this walking means a hearty lunch can be well justified.

Dining alone leaves plenty of opportunity for eavesdropping and people-watching, and I enjoy listening in to the group of retirees behind me who seem to be having a wonderful day out.

Their lunch is rather more expansive than mine, with oysters and the catch of the day being washed down with sauvignon blanc and more pints of frothing Sheps ale.

Food polished off, it dawns on me that perhaps a lighter lunch might have been wise, particularly as I strike out on the road up and out of Oare heading back towards Teynham.

With an hourly train to catch, I am initially in two minds about whether to pick up the pace in the hope of making an earlier departure or to slow down and enjoy the scenery of the gently rolling countryside around me. Stuffed to the gills, the latter option wins the day.

The last leg, up and down country lanes and along the occasional footpath across fields, is rather less dramatic than the earlier hours spent skirting the Swale. But the walk as a whole – about 19km or so, all told – has been an absolute delight.

I really was not sure what to expect from this part of the world, which shamefully I’ve never really considered a destination for a day out before, but it has been a revelation.

From the bucolic orchards with their perfectly spaced rows of trees, to the wilder edges of the Swale itself, the day has proved a perfect encapsulation of the best of Kent.

There are few places where the agricultural abundance of the Garden of England sits so close by the ebbing and flowing tides of our extensive coastline, and being able to explore both in the same few hours has been a treat.

It may be a bit off the beaten track, but those who make the detour will find themselves amply rewarded.