The convergence of sea and river habitats offers rich pickings, even with a motorway overhead. Our writer joins an expert forager
There’s something alluring, even slightly mystifying, about estuaries. The end of a river’s journey, it’s a collision of habitats where freshwater meets saltwater, and wooded riverbanks suddenly give way to cliffs, rocky shores, then mudflats, ridged and grooved like the surface of a brain. Wind whips up in all directions, stinging your cheeks with salt.
“When I’ve been down on the estuary for a few hours, I always feel invigorated, like I’ve had a good lungful of fresh air,” says Chloé Newcomb-Hodgetts, foraging guide and founder of Gourmet Gatherings, who offers private and group foraging tours. “It definitely helps me sleep better.”
Chloé has come to meet me at Beachley, a peninsula village on the banks of the Severn, and under the original Severn Bridge, on the England-Wales border. This particular foraging trip focuses on edible plants you can find along the estuary, a habitat often overlooked by those heading to the woods for nettles and wild garlic in spring.