The cobbles of the Buttermarket are slick with rain when I arrive outside Canterbury Cathedral, ready to begin my walk to Whitstable on the wonderfully-named Crab and Winkle Way.

Apparently it has been the warmest February on record, but it has also felt like one of the wettest, and the downpours show no signs of stopping as we move into spring.

I chose this hike from the city to the sea after realising that, despite taking a number of these occasional wanders around the county, I’d not yet traversed the Canterbury district.

The Cathedral seemed a natural starting point, especially having read one online guide to this route which wonderfully described it as leading ‘from cloisters to oysters’. Bravo, that’s a turn of phrase I am unashamed to pilfer for the purposes of summing up this excellent excursion.

The first leg of the walk runs through the centre of the city. I give a nod to the statue of Geoffrey Chaucer, dressed appropriately enough as a Canterbury pilgrim, on the corner of Best Lane and the High Street, dodging the shoppers and groups of teens on school trips as I head down towards the Westgate Towers.

After passing St Dunstan's Church at the junction of Whitstable Road the incline grows and the rain starts falling again. It’s a pretty miserable moment, and I do start to wonder if I have misjudged the forecast. I’m expecting to be walking for more than two hours, and will not be all that impressed if I arrive on the beach in Whitstable soaked to the skin and looking like I’ve just emerged from the sea.

After a bit of a slog I reach the top of St Thomas Hill, and turn back towards the city hoping for a view of the skyline and the sight of the cathedral. Unfortunately, the angle isn’t quite right, and anyway the city is blanketed in low cloud and drizzle.

I turn my attention back to the way ahead, looking for the point where the Crab and Winkle Way diverges from the main road and points towards open countryside.

The route takes its name from the pioneering railway line connecting Canterbury and Whitstable, which opened in 1830. Whether it deserves to be recognised as the first proper passenger railway, as some claim, we’ll leave to the railway historians. But it was certainly at the very cutting edge of technology during the Industrial Revolution, with trains hauled by the locomotive ‘Invicta’, which was based on engineer Robert Stephenson’s more famous ‘Rocket’.

After passing behind the campus of the University of Kent, the countryside opens up and the path follows the gently undulating lie of the land, passing through working farms and soon reaching the charming 13th century church of St Cosmus and St Damian at Blean.

According to an information board at the entrance to the churchyard, the Crab and Winkle here follows a section of what was once known locally as the Salt Way, an important trading route used to bring this valued commodity from salt pans at Seasalter to Canterbury.

Onwards from here the path leads into Clowes Wood. Despite the odd tricky section where the rain has left the way submerged, most of the route is really well paved and maintained, making it a favourite with cyclists. In fact, the Crab and Winkle forms part of National Cycle Route 1.

But apart from a couple of riders crossing paths near the church earlier, cyclists are few and far between. A handful of dog walkers aside, I have most of this stretch between Blean and the Thanet Way to myself.

It does make me reflect on the oft-heard complaint that our county is being relentlessly over-developed. Concreted over, some say. Well, I think those who believe this would do well to get out a bit more. There are still plenty of corners of Kent where, even just a few miles from the city centre, you can have the countryside all to yourself, just your thoughts and the birdsong for company.

Before long though, the chirruping of the birds begins to mingle with the low thrum of traffic, meaning I am nearing the point where the footpath crosses the Thanet Way and begins to carry me much closer to my destination.

After crossing the dual carriageway the landscape begins to become more and more built up, and soon I am walking down towards the town and my intended lunch stop at the harbour.

I cross over the modern-day railway line at Whitstable station and follow the back streets towards the sea. As this route has been described as leading ‘from cloisters to oysters’ it seems only right to reward eight miles or so on foot with some form of seafood. After a few wrong turns and dead ends (this is still a working harbour after all) I find myself at the beachside Lobster Shack on East Quay.

The sun has come out now, although there remain a few ominous-looking clouds out towards Sheppey, and I am determined to enjoy my fish and chips as close to the water as possible. The other lunchtime diners at the Lobster Shack have, perhaps wisely, decided to take their meals inside. But I plonk myself down at a table overlooking the sea and brave the chill as I tuck into battered cod and fat, fluffy chips.

Fish and chips outside in the salty air? It’s almost as though I’m wishing the summer to get a move on.

Dodging downpours is probably not the best way to experience this walk, but come the warmer months I’d say the Crab and Winkle Way is definitely worth following for a fine slice of Kent, from the city to the sea.