Gertsamtkunstwerk

A Walk in Beddington Park

It was one of those days, when you have a vague notion that you want to go out but you don't know where.

You don't even know why you want to go out, except for that vague notion. The subconscious awareness that, somehow, once you've been for a walk, you'll feel better for it, even if you can't summon up that prospect in your imagination.

We missed a train at Streatham Hill, and had to travel south to Streatham. I think perhaps it was only at this point we decided on our destination. It started to drizzle when we got on the train, but on the whole, held off for the remainder of our afternoon out.

We went to Carshalton and strolled in The Grove. Previous and subsequent visits tell me that it is a lovely park, but I felt disengaged. We passed a charity shop, well, we went in, because I spotted a dinky tiny china tea set. In some alternative universe where I have an enormous house and copious money I would probably spend a lot on china tea sets and oddments, but in the real world it's nice to buy doll's versions!

 

We wandered onwards, thinking how dull the weather was, not entirely sure where we were going, until we reached the bottom of Butter Hill, and refound the River Wandle. There are two branches that meet at Wilderness Island, but the stretch from the island to The Grange isn't publicly accessible. Stretches are visible on the road before the park, including in the tastefully-dyed-green-fountain in the pond (fortunately or unfortunately, the sheer greenness is disguised by photography)

Beddington Park is rather a jewel, and one of the great hidden secrets of South London. I guess I'm doing it a disservice by blogging about it, but I think local people know about. North Londoners won't bother, because they famously have Hampstead Heath, and if people are prepared to travel from Brixton/Streatham area, then they deserve to see a lovely park. Some information on the LB Sutton website and some previous blogposts: Rediscovering the Wandle and A Wandle ride in June

The formal garden is small but very pretty

 

I could have taken some better photos but by now it was drizzling again. It eased off as we walked along the banks of the River Wandle, little more than a chalk stream, You can easily be deceived that you are in much wilder, more remote territory.

  

I was conscious not to duplicate photos I have taken on previous visits, but the Terracotta bridge is the best of several interesting paths across the river.

 

And then, you reach the Tudor part. Manor house (now a school) and church. and a terrace of twee cottages. Again, I didn't see the point of retaking snapshots I had previously covered in better light.

Some more wildness as you approach Waddon

 

And suddenly, you're back in the urban ratrace where warehouses are jetwashed, restored and converted.

 

A stroll past the tweeest cottages in South London (and I speak as a resident of a twee South London Cottage - not one of these!)

 

So, nothing happened. The weather was okay, but not great, especially for August. We had plenty of opportunity for people watching but nothing exciting or interesting to report back. Just a pleasant couple of hours out in the open air. You feel better after it, just about 3 miles from Carshalton to Waddon station, just a gentle stroll.

Richmond Park in 3 seasons (not the by-election)

I started composing this a few days ago, since when a by-election has been declared in the Richmond Park constituency, so that's confusing my Googling and makes this blogpost seem either very well-timed or some weird irrelevance at the fringe of a byelection

Richmond Park is possibly one of the great wonders of the Modern World, the Jewel in the Crown of South London, of all London. When North Londoners attempt to assert their perceived superiority, they tend to say "Hampstead Heath". So those of us in South West London mutter "Richmond Park...Wimbledon Common...Wandsworth Common...Tooting Common...Clapham Common...Streatham Common...Battersea Park...Brockwell Park". South East London have their own contributions. Let's be honest, south London is one almost unbroken Green Space. The Capital Ring and London Loop take you on tour through this greenery, but between you and me they're a bit rubbish. By this I mean, they focus on going through parks and getting to the next one, when, frankly, you can spend a whole day in Richmond Park and not get bored.

I went to Richmond Park once as a child, and it rained. Jimmy and I went about four or five years ago, when I wasn't feeling too well, but needed to get out, and did some small strolls and longer drives.

But in the past year and a half we have been three times. Once in summer for what turned out to be a 7 mile walk circling the park, four miles in Spring, and a gentle stroll just after the autumnal equinox.

There are several vehicular entrances to Richmond Park, various car parks, and at least three cafés, and a bus goes into the Park on Wednesdays. It is possible to drive all round the park, or between entrances, and indeed many people use it for their commute or other local journeys (which is a slight pain when you're walking). It's very popular with cyclists - it was on the London2012 road race - and Paralympic Great wheelchair athlete David Weir trains there.But it's not difficult to get away from traffic.

On a glorious Spring Saturday it seemed busy in places - parents and small kids, dog walkers, hordes of students from (presumably) nearby Roehampton and Kingston Universities and assorted others. Yet even then, when we left the main drag, we could find isolation, and on a summer weekday we went for several consecutive minutes without any sign of human activity!

I want to show you lots of photos and not be distracted into telling you a story. If you hover over most of the photos the 'hypertext' will tell you which month (or season) it was taken in. At the bottom is a map of most of the 7 mile walk we did in June 2015. I had to change my phone battery just before we finished but you can pretty much guess what happened next.

Walking from Pembroke Lodge to the Ham Gate felt very much like walking in the wild. There was no audible traffic and we met very few people indeed. I developed an instant and passing fascinating with the sculpture of tree trunks

  

Off the beaten track led onto what seemed like a country lane passing through fields. This was more popular with walkers and cyclists but far from oppressive.

 

We passed a thicket where the rhododendrons were nearing the end of the season, and after a precarious crossing of the Beverley Brook by plank, we reached the Pen Ponds.

 

The Pen Ponds are popular with park visitors. Perhaps, if your visit to Richmond Park is only short, this might be the best place to head for. Perhaps it's heaving on a hot summer Sunday but it didn't feel oppressive on any of our visits. On our Autumn visit we parked near here and walked down to the ponds; on each occasion we used the café. It's only a café with outdoor seating but the coffee's good and it sells other light refreshments. some park cafés can be disappointing, complacent about their captive audience, but this is reasonably priced and of a good standard. 

 

   

When we visited in September we saw swans flocking, which I don't think I've seen often: ducks and geese yes, but rarely swans. They don't make for great photos but I also liked the contrast with the aeroplane. That is a definite downside of Richmond Park - the proximity of aircraft approaching or leaving Heathrow, and, I suppose, the reason for the Richmond Park byelection.

 

We also saw a skylark. We guessed what it was a by its strange behaviour of hovering ten feet or so above the gorse. On our march visit we had seen signs warning us to stay away from skylark nesting grounds. And this time we saw an interpretation board explaining 'skylarks'. Again, not a great picture, but worth it to say I saw it. In March we also saw another supposedly rare bird, the parakeet, but they are commonplace across South West London nowadays. Story is they were released after the filming of the African Queen at Isleworth, but Wikipedia notes this claim to be 'dubious'. Some people still don't know about the parakeets - I didn't until my Aunt's funeral less than years ago, when the wife of my father's old schoolfriend told me there were plenty on Tooting Common (several flew over my Aunt's burial).

 

On our March visit we walked up the hill to White Lodge and back down again to the Roehampton Gate car park. At first it seemed quite busy, but the other people just seemed to disappear

It was quite strange. Knowing that we weren't far from a densely populated area, also knowing that the park was fairly busy, and yet feeling isolated and remote. On the one hand there was a helicopter circling for the build up to a Six Nations match at Twickenham, and toy cars and tiny bikes travelled along distant Sawyers Hill. but on the other hand, we were alone, and couldn't see a human soul as we trudged through the woods and down the hill to Priory Lane.

In June, it was only after this point, as we walked downhill towards Robin Hood Gate that we began to see deer. Richmond Park is famous for its deer, red and fallow. It's rather nice. They are wild animals - frequent signs remind one of this, and warn us not to touch them or approach them especially in breeding season, and, of course, to keep dogs under control. However, you can get fairly close without breaching these rules, and they seem unperturbed by sensible humans. Here's a selection of photos from all three visits.

       

At Robin Hood gate is a stable. This leads to there being a Pegasus Crossing across the A3 at this point, to enable horses and riders to cross safely into Wimbledon Common, which lies just across the main London-Portsmouth road. Some riders also ride in Richmond Park.

When you walk from Robin Hood Gate to Roehampton Gate eventually you get to cross Beverley Brook. there's a walk, 6.5 miles, that takes you from New Malden to the Thames at Putney. Maybe I'll do it sometime soon!

The Roehampton Gate café is also worth a stop. It's the biggest car park (or perhaps Pembroke Lodge is), the café is very good, with lots of seating inside and out. It's also the place to hire bikes if you fancy a ride round the park, but not to it, and there are loos there, too. (Also some at Pembroke Lodge).

 From there we climbed up Sawyers Hill. To be honest, it wasn't my favourite part of the walk. In some ways, too desolate, but also a main road through the park. Sometimes you got views, sometimes you didn't. It's quite a strange place for views, in general. In some places, you feel you can see for miles. sometimes the views are very rural, and sometimes you're reminded that, basically, you're practically in Inner london. I took to a dislike to the blocks of flat despoiling the horizon. However, I later read a blogpost pointing out that these flats were council housing that gave relatively poor people an unrivalled view of Richmond Park. So I feel guilty for disliking them!

 

The final stretch of our long walk was to King Henry's Mound and the gardens around Pembroke Lodge. I admit to being hugely disappointing. There's supposed to be a great view from there, but as far as I could tell it's mainly of West London, Slough possibly, and planes taking off and landing at Heathrow.

The gardens are hugely disappointing, unkempt and neglected. This is supposedly maintained by the Royal Parks, and, frankly, they didn't seem to be doing it very well. I took the picture of Runnymede because the day we visited Richmond Park was the day that Royals and other VVIPs were in Runnymede to commemorate the Magna Carta being signed 800 years previously. In fact, it had been on my shortlist of destinations that day until I realised that it was a bad idea!

           

 

Morden Hall Park

It's now a few years since I discovered Morden Hall Park, and that was by accident. Nevertheless, I should have discovered it much earlier. I had read about The Wandle Trail; I'd acquired a bicycle. I'd built up a decent level of fitness. 

It now seems familiar, and quite difficult to recreate the sensation. I had cycled along the River Wandle from Colliers Wood, along a lightly wooded path, through an area with signs pointing to a wetland, and emerged, in mid afternoon late summer sun into what seemed a different world. A world of delicate bridges that spanned tinkling chalk brooks that criss-crossed lawns where people lounged in the shade and children played innocently, where rays of light bounced from canopied trees to paths, and everyone was cloaked in joyful mood of repose and beautification.  

  

I've lost count of how many times I have visited since, sometimes to traverse, and sometimes to explore. I've never quite recaptured that initial magic feeling, but I still keep returning. 

It's National Trust owned, and the terms of the legacy means they can't charge admission or even for parking. I've never seen it deserted, although occupancy varies as expected with the seasons and the weather, from weekdays to weekends, and depending on schooldays or school holidays. 

It covers fifty hectares, and includes a hall, but this is not open to the public. Apparently the lease is owned by Whitbread/Beefeater but doesn't operate. Beyond the formal gardens is parkland, some of it beside the Wandle. The Wandle winds through and feeds the Wetlands that are managed for nature conservancy. 

 

The photos in this post were taken on two visits, in April last year and late February this, both on weekdays outside the school holidays. On both occasions it was possible to wander, not quite alone, but without a sense of being crowded. As with almost everywhere I visit, most people stay close to the central area - especially the Rose Garden - or around the Garden centre and café. Few people venture outside the carefully delineated safe space. This is great, because it leaves the parkland and Wetlands almost deserted. Such a missed opportunity. So many parents of small children keen to get them in the open air and physically active. Not wrong in itself, but a sole focus on the body and ts achievements just encourages a self-absorbed narcissism. Whereas, kids who are encouraged to walk observantly in a place like the Wetlands can begin to see how different species are interdependent, for example how birds rely on a certain type of habitat. Or see the natural wastage of trees coupled with how humans manage the space. Obsessionally sportsing tends to lead to obsessional self-absorption and disregard for others. 

    

I have to say, I have quite strong views about how the National Trust make their managed land more attractive to children. Morden Hall isn't the worst example - more to come in future blogposts. 

In defence of the National Trust their 50  Things to do before you're 11 ¾ is inspired and doesn't need to be limited by age. But other activities seemed geared at encouraging children to charge around, using but ignoring the environment. Easter Egg hunts are a trivial but widespread example of this. I passed through the park this week, on a partial ramble of the Wandle Trail, and noticed that a few interpretation boards have been erected, to explain 'nature'. Well meant, but surely of little interest or use to anybody over the age of 7 or so. Words about toadspawn and Canada Goose Eggs, but no pictures of a Canada Goose. It seems an ideal place to put pictures of waterfowl and woodland birds, and the various trees that grow. It isn't difficult - because I've seen them elsewhere - to have boards that appeal to fairly small children and to non-expert adults. Perhaps something about the old and recent history of the River, about the waterwheel and the industry it supported. 

It's nice that there's an adventure playground - I didn't take pictures of the equipment children were playing on. It as only when I exited that I saw a sign that adults were only allowed when accompanied by children. Still, it's a bit like the signs that say 'keep dogs on leads in Wetlands to protect the birds' - no reason to pay any attention.

 

 

It's only when you venture from the manicured safe areas that you notice things. A tree uprooted, its roots standing vertical, taller than a human, as leaves (its own? anther plant's?) wind around the dying wood.

 

Sometimes it's nice to sit on the lawn for a few minutes. Sometimes, it may be a convenient place to pause when you're walking or cycling the Trail. Sometimes, it's better than nothing - a few weeks ago, in Richmond Park, I saw two parties sit down within feet of the carpark. One was a family of a tiny baby and toddler and all the equipment and panoply that accompanies them; the other was a couple including a young man who was struggling to 'walk' on his crutches. But it's amazing what you can see if you venture just a few hundred metres within the confines of an urban park. 

Brockwell Park

I have discovered several folders on my PC dating back a year and a half that I haven't yet got round to blogging.

Here is a collection of photos from Brockwell Park, taken mainly in August 2014 and a few in that November. I walk up to Brockwell Park fairly frequently, although perhaps not often enough considering how near it is. It's a wide open space in the heart of dense housing, and being on the top of a hill, on a good day it affords great views of central London. But it's not my nearest large open space, and, anyway, sometimes, when you go for a walk that's what you want to do, walk, and look and listen, not obsessively line up snapshot after snapshot.

I know that many people have a different take: if you go frequently to the same place, there is a fascination in monitoring how it changes through the seasons and over the years. But I don't have that eye for detail, and, ultimately, I don't have the curiosity or interest.

There are two main aspects to Brockwell PArk (apart from its built facilities - pitches and courts, playgrounds, greenhouses, cafés, BMX pitch, model railway - I've never been on). The panoramic views, and the walled garden.

I think that the park used to be too manicured, too municipal. But in recent years, there has been a concerted effort to diversify the terrain. For some reason I have no pictures of the wildflower slope by the lido, but I have been pleased to see great pastures of grass allowed to grow and not cut over-frequently. In the past decade more managed spaces leave dead and fallen trees, rather than carting them away.

   

The ponds have been re-done; I've always liked them for their apparent wildness, although, like much 'wildness' it benefits from being managed.

There's a weird little model village that just sits outside the walled garden. Apparently it dates from the 1940s, and I suppose it serves some momentary fascination for toddlers, but, other than providing backdrop for photoshopped signs satirising Foxton's Estate Agent, it has limited appeal.

I have an inbuilt hatred of what, years ago, I sneeringly called 'municipal borders'. It doesn't surprise me subsequently to find other people using that or similar phrases and sharing my disdain for the regimented uninspired planting. Some vestiges do remain in Brockwell Park.

The Walled Garden is legendary, especially among locals. Many people, especially flat dwellers without a garden of their own treasure its seclusion and quiet. Or, at least, people hope for this. Unfortunately, there always seem to be one set of parents who sincerely thinks it's the perfect space for their child to run around screaming. The park covers 50 hectares; apart from during events such as Lambeth Country Show and Fireworks, I have never seen it so crowded that you can't carve out a sizeable patch of grass for yourself, as many people do. But for whatever reason, a tiny minority think they trample on the rights of adults who wish to read or contemplate, or admire the flowers. Yes, I know that children benefit from exercise and use of space, but they also need to learn about how different spaces are used for different purposes and require different behaviour. I wouldn't go into a children's playground, sit down with my cider and cigarettes and start photographing the children playing. And walled gardens aren't for screeching and running. 

I used to feel that the walled garden was worthy but dull, too many roses with dead heads and so one. It was done up about 3 or 4 years ago, and it seems that it has been taken over by a Community Group. I can't say I'm comfortable with volunteers replacing paid staff. On the other hand, given the swingeing cuts councils are forced to make, that lead inevitably to job cuts in parks and gardens, volunteer labour has to be welcomed. And I presume the volunteers get something tangible out of it - exercise, wellbeing and a chance to garden they might not have in flats or short term lets. And the garden looks superb as a result.

    

Part of the pleasure of going to parks is the walk there. Always good to have a nosy around neighbouring roads, see how the area is changing. And to spot interesting features en route.

   

 And the stained glass in the local Methodist Church. Actually, not the best stained glass in the area, but in urban areas it's quite difficult to get into churches, understandably.

Brockwell Park photo album

 

Dulwich Park and Horniman Gardens

Bank Holidays - what to make of them? Sometimes I idly call for their abolition, and usually find someone points out their importance in Labour history. For workers compelled to work long hours in factories six days a week and forced to attend church on Sundays, Bank Holidays were a rare day of rest. Of course, just like Sundays traditionally, there's a downside to  being 'off' when everything is closed.

I don't think that Bank Holidays have any great use in Britain now, other than as opportunities for the marketing of conspicuous consumption. People who are paid strictly on attendance don't get paid; the salaried are obliged to take the day off whether they wish to or not. When I was working part time, my annual leave and public holiday entitlement were aggregated and pro rata'd, so whenever a Bank Holiday fell on a working day I begrudged having to use what I perceived as Annual Leave.

Anyway, many people don't get the day off, just as many people work weekends, evenings and nights. The late May bank holiday falls during the school half term, so makes little difference there. Anybody who appreciates the extra day and wants to go somewhere - the seaside or a visitor attraction - finds that enough of everybody else has had the same idea. My grandfather and step grandmother always used to go out on Bank Holidays, in order to sit in traffic queues, rather than go to the same place on any other day of their well earned retirement. This year, with neither of us working Mondays, the late May Bank Holiday ought to have felt like just another day, to be used or ignored according to the weather.

Ah, the weather. An English bank holiday without 'weather' would be as odd a roast beef without Yorkshire pudding. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't what you would call hot. Or warm. Not raining, but dull. Just miserable. 

Lacking inspiration we went off to Dulwich Park a very nice but unexceptional park not far from home. By this, I mean, it's lovely to visit but probably not worth travelling to visit, especially not from another area of London which probably has its own very nice unexceptional parks.

A surprising and impressive display of rhododendrons, just approaching the end of the line. These are in the so-called American Garden. I have searched the internet to find what is special about an American Garden but to no avail! But the internet does tell me that rhododendrons are not particularly an American plant.

There was a funfair in the park, poorly attended but disproportionately noisy for its relative importance. I understand why councils feel the need to get such events into parks, in order to benefit from the fees, but they probably drive away just as many people as they attract. I would imagine that such travelling fairs are very pricey for people with limited spare funds; the richer Dulwich types, if they were looking for fairground rides, would probably go to one of the well-known amusement parks, which might end up being cheaper. The rides didn't look exciting enough for the average teenager. Jimmy said this lorry was worth photographing.

 

Bored, we travelled on and passed the Horniman Museum. From the back of my mind, I recollected some praise of the attached gardens. We parked behind the Museum and Gardens, on a residential street high above London. In fact, it's worth visiting for the view.

In one direction I spotted this. I have no idea what got into somebody's head that this landscape would somehow be improved by placing a dull block of flats entirely disproportionate to the line.

Stand in the right place, though, and you do get a splendid panorama

It's a strange place. There's a large bandstand terrace, pavilion and Dutch barn, with facilities for serving refreshments, which were closed on the late May Bank Holiday (for many, the unofficial start of 'Summer'). We walked the Sunken Garden and Displays which were duller than you could imagine a garden to be in late May, the time when Spring moves into Summer. People were taking their small children round uncomprehendingly; for once I could hardly blame them for thinking it was yet another area specifically designed solely for running around children. I took not one photo.

We didn't go in the museum, but the conservatory is delightfully ornate.

 

Our final stop was the small animal enclosure. I'm not really sure what to think. I enjoyed seeing the various animals, most of which you have limited opportunity to see in Inner London. But I was left with an uneasy feeling that the space was quite inadequate, especially for the alpacas and the sheep. But I am not only not an expert, I am very ignorant on all matters of animal husbandry and welfare, so I might be entirely wrong. But that was my lasting impression. Along with the pong, especially of the alpacas who both peed several times during our short visit.

 In the end I wasn't sure what to think about Horniman. A lot of thought had gone into making it a place with many different attractions, but it didn't seem to be pulling it off.  Public spaces now show the effects of crippling funding cuts. We should expect more deterioration in the years to come, perhaps to the point of destruction: even if funding is restored to decent levels, the recovery period will be long.

But it wasn't until I Googled this place, back home, that I learnt there is a nature trail that starts there, and uses the old Crystal Palace and South London Junction Railway; it claims to be the oldest Nature Trail in London. 

Horniman was one of several places visited this summer that seemed more interested in contriving artificial attractions/events to spoonfeed the passive, rather than celebrating the very real stuff that doesn't have to be shoehorned into a concept. Not the worst, just one of many.

Crystal Palace Park - Dinosaurs and sport

Crystal Palace Park is one of the not-so-hidden gems of South London yet I have been there very few times. It's not quite on my doorstep yet too near to be a destination day out. A sunny Sunday afternoon in May and we headed to Crystal Palace Park. So did many other people, although it never really seemed busy and people seemed aware of those around them and understood that other park users had different needs - kids on scooters didn't career into the elderly and infirm, dogs were under control for the benefit of the nervous, people conducted conversations among themselves and not for the benefit of an audience. This is South East London, not South West that's increasingly infested with people whose main (sole?) hobby is 'showing off'.

Previously run by the Greater London Council and before that the London County Council, Crystal Palace Park is entirely within the London Borough of Bromley. LBs Lambeth, Southwark, Lewisham and Croydon have boundaries on or close to the park and some interest in the surrounding areas.

It contains many of the features you would expect in a large neighbourhood park, and several more besides. For example, a boating lake. For boating purposes it isn't as good as Battersea Park, let alone Regent's Park, none of which are a patch on Nottingham's University Park. But it's nicely landscaped, and I spotted this modern day sculpture.

If you're 'not from round here' and you hear Crystal Palace, you probably think of the football team, or maybe the Great Exhibition of 1851, or the Athletics stadium. But if you are local, you know that Crystal Palace Park is home to The Dinosaurs. The only place in the UK where you can roam among dinosaurs in their natural habitat, and there are few recorded incidents of children being attacked.

     

The lakes and ponds are pleasantly, if unexceptionally, landscaped

The park is easy to get to, as Crystal Palace station, now served by London Overground as well as Southern, is right next door. We popped into the café Brown and Green, which is exceptionally good and, given its location, decently priced. We had coffee and cake, both of which passed muster - the cake being handmade and fresh. Their website is user unfriendly, a pity, because they have an excellent menu for breakfast, brunch, light lunch and afternoon bites, and their kids' menu seems to have the right balance between tasty and not-too-unhealthy. If I lived locally I'd be in every week - or more often. Stupidly, I took no pictures of the café but I liked this mural near the station.

Crystal Palace Park is unique because not only does it has the dinosaurs but it also has other singular features.

It's called Crystal Palace, as is the station and, unofficially the local area, because Joseph Paxton's Crystal Palace was moved there from Hyde Park after the Great Exhibition, although sadly it burned down in 1936. Paxton is commemorated locally with a Primary School, a health centre and a pub. And, in the Park, a bust, somewhat neglected, on the historic but derelict Italian terraces with its vandalised sphinxes. I suspect that LB Bromley doesn't take its custodianship of the park too seriously, given that it's at the corner of their borough away from the prosperous areas, and is probably used more by people from the poorer Inner London boroughs.

Crystal Palace is like a campus for sport. It struck me that the designers of Olympic Park must have been influenced, especially by the bridge next to the Athletics stadium. I know there's a swimming pool there, and I think it's Olympic size and allows for diving.

We stood and watched some beach volleyball. There were signs saying that it is home of the Team GB beach volleyball team. I don't know if these people were Team GB, and, to be honest, I don't think that beach volleyball is any more interesting than the bog standard version.

But, hey, pictures.

 

There's an Athletic stadium, which has now being somewhat overshadowed by the Olympic stadium in East London - it used to host Diamond League fixtures until recently. There was some sort of athletics going on there, a handful of people and a man on a very loud public address system which boomed out inappropriately across the entire park, imposed on and to be endured by the hundreds if not thousands doing other things, for the sake of the few tens doing this. And the organised sporty types wonder why they're so hated by normals!

There was a triathlon partly taking place in the park, but it was low key, discrete and well stewarded, without the need for all the showing off to all-and-sundry.

We sat for a while on the grass, which happened to overlook the children's playground. Busy, and decorated in primary colours (ie not enforcing artificial gender role differentiation), with some dinosaur theming. 

 

Wandsworth and Wandle

I started writing this on a gloomy bank holiday, and felt tempted to title it Gloomy Bank Holiday. A few days later I went to edit/complete the post and accidentally deleted the original opening paragraph, as well as deleting the record of my walk on my phone app. I did actually wonder whether this blogpost is better off not published - it doesn't describe two exciting days, nor does it contain any photos I'll even consider for my 'Gert's Favourites' photo album. 

But then I thought - what's the purpose of this blog? In essence, it's therapy, for me. A sort of diary, too. And I concluded it's actually quite important to record the days that weren't red letter days, the days where the photos were mediocre at best, and to think about the value of that outing (this post covers two outings, on consecutive days last Spring).

I don't think many readers want to read generalised existential angst. Frankly, if you're writing about how awful life is, make it dramatic and exciting, like a car crash. But I don't think readers want to read either variations on a theme of 'My life is nice and lovely, look how nice and lovely it is'.

Wandsworth Common is a very pleasant space; there's a lake and woods; open fields for sport and recreation; and some nice planting, although no formal gardens as such. We sat in the café and observed the world.

 

I came to the conclusion that there are an awful lot of smug parents who probably claim that they frequently take the children to the park. "It's great, I can sit and have a coffee, and they can run around and let off steam". There was certainly a family doing that, running from café grounds to the Bowling Green and back, screaming and generally being anti-social. The Bowling Green is the one area of most parks that's set aside for (mainly) older people, so these entitled parents of spoilt children thought it okay to invade that space.

Imagine it the other way round, if pensioners decided to take their bowls to the kids playground. I think every park is infected by the types who sit in the café ignoring the children they clearly resent and ensuring that everybody else's peace is disturbed by these neglected brats. (An 'accident' is an unplanned pregnancy that becomes a much loved child; a 'mistake' is a pregnancy planned by someone because 'everyone else is starting a family').

 

The next day we started our Wandle Walk at Earlsfield, a great opportunity to see the grimy industrial aspect of the river more than the pretty pseudo-bucolic. I would show you the route we took but I've just accidentally deleted it from my phone app!

I think this allotment owner is really keen to collect as much as rainwater as possible.

If you're ever in central London during or just before parades and events you'll be familiar with the railings that are erected for crowd control. Have you ever wondered where they go in the interim? Me neither.

I know little about electricity transformer stations. I know that they transformer the very high voltage power sent down from the generating station to the much lower voltage we use domestically. And that's about it. They can make for interesting photos, but need better light and sky colour than I got that day.

You'd think when you're following a minor river you wouldn't get lost. But I did. In retrospect I think we found the place where Norbury Brook flows into the Wandle, and I took the obligatory rubbish waterfowl shots.

  

Then we sat in a field for a while. I don't know what the field was or what it was full but it was surprisingly peaceful.

 

 

Odd couple of days. This does seem like the world's most boring blogpost, with appropriately boring photos as accompaniment. Neither day felt like great examples of getting out into the wilds of South London. However, it sort of proves the importance of getting out, even if it's just for a stroll or the cycling equivalent. It boosts the serotonin, making one feel good. If the alternative is sitting at home staring at a screen, it's not a bad way to pass a couple of hours. And not all excursions need to be 'amazing' or 'glorious'. Better to develop a habit of getting out regularly than one of staying in on any flimsy pretext.

Old photos, short stories: Crystal Palace Park

Crystal Palace Park is about 4 miles from my house. I went there once with my cousin, in 1989, on the eve of a Big Job Interview (I got the job). I went again with Jimmy in 2001. The boating lake was closed.It is historically important and a 'major London park', probably the only one that features a Dinosaur Trail (not pictured).

We have attempted to return on two occasions. One coincided with the London Schools Games, an event similar to The Olympics. On the other occasion, there was a heavy rainstorm, contrary to the weather forecast.

My previous 'old photos, short stories' inspired a return trip to Jersey. Perhaps this can inspire a return trip to Crystal Palace Park.

Tooting Bec Common in Spring

Tooting Bec Common is my nearest sizeable open space. I've lived within walking distance of it since 1991 yet only actually discovered its glory in 2008. Paired with the much smaller Tooting Graveney Common in the far south and you have the technically correct "Tooting Commons".

There are people who go on the Commons daily or near daily, to walk their dogs or as part of their journey to work or school, or as their regular constitutional. It must be great to do that, to see the minute changes through the season. On the other hand, I like to see many different places, and in south London we have no shortage of great wild nature places to visit. Although densely populated, London is mainly green space or open water, with fairly little of that being private land. We might not have rolling hills visible from our windows but we have no shortage of diverse parkland in which to roam.

Anyway, even in winter I like to go down to the Common from time to time, sometimes as a scenic walk finishing with cake in Streatham. Because it's so familiar I rarely take photos, especially if I'm on the bike. But perhaps there is something about Spring that pushes the urge to photograph. These are all from mid-April.

 

It's nice down by the lake, but unfortunately a large colony of rats seem to have taken over. Mildly fascinating the first time

 

 

On a subsequent visit I had to move from the lake: too unsettling to have rats scurrying about and pigeons seeming to fly directly at me. Perhaps even more disconcerting was the parents encouraging their toddlers to throw bread into the lake. "Feeding the ducks" they think they're doing. It's bad for the water fowl and it just encourages the rats, and might also encourage e. coli. If I were a mother of a small child I would be repelled by the rats, nature's way of telling a mother to protect her young. Still, I saw a robin.

The Commons cover 92 hectares (221 acres) of wildlife areas, woods, sports pitches, playgrounds, a lido, an Athletics track. According to Wikipedia (subsequently removed) "Ribblesdale Rovers FC have been playing here since their founding in 2013 and have attracted crowds of up to 20 people on a weekly basis".

Oddly, I never think to photograph the woods. I guess because they're just trees. Down the southern end are more trees, and open space

 
Back up at our end, I tend to think of the Common as just a strip of land next to the road, where the flat-dwellers of East Balham go to read, sunbathe and picnic. But even that is quite wooded

Lurking behind the trees is the viaduct that carries the branchline of the London-Brighton railway to Streatham Hill and beyond.

 

The Wandle, after The Storm

What a miserable winter 2013/14 was. I am immensely grateful, living on a hill and inland, I was not affected by floods how many people were. Even so, the seemingly constant heavy rain and strong winds was not conducive to going out. I've blogged about a New Year walk around The City, and a fortuitous stroll along Bournemouth seafront, but other than 2 or 3 pleasant but uneventful walks on Tooting Common, and one to Brockwell Park, these are my only 'going out' since returning from holiday in September.

I took time off sick in February and March. It retrospect it might have been easier to take a full week, rather than a day here, a couple of days there. Something dawned on me in late March - how good I had felt walking through Central Croydon after a work-related meeting, and a similar work-related jaunt to leafy outer suburbs. Both days were bright sunshiny days. One was pretty cold - scarves and gloves - but that mattered less than the brightness of the sun. In short, I am fairly certain I have Seaonally Affective Disorder. I don't want to be pseudo-scientific, and I'm very aware of the power of suggestion, but I have felt so much better since the Spring Equinox.

The odd trip out, in glorious pre-Spring weather, only served to mask the reality of Seasonal Affective Disorder. I've ignored it for too long. I've treated it like hayfever or migraines, afflictions that make me lose several hours every couple of years, but not comparable to people whose lives are devastated by them. Everyone feels a bit down in winter. It's not that I'm depressred, just de-energised, lack-lustre, indifferent, apathetic. And yet, that isn't me in sunshine. I walked three miles, which is nothing really (although three miles of pootling and stopping to admire the view surely requires more energy than yomping across country). I was tired in the evening, and had to leave a birthday party early, but it felt a lot more positive than the world-weariness I had felt for months.

The Wandle never ceases to amaze. I could walk its banks for ever and always see something new. Early on, we detoured into the wheelhouse at Merton Abbey Mills and saw behind the water wheel.

Along the river were scenes of devastation:

     

The sandbags were out by the flats in Ravensbury Park - thankfully, looking unneeded. What a great place they must be to live. Whenever I go past there are always people out enjoying their amazing back gardens, and the kids obviously love living in the woods - even when a kicked football falls dead in a squelchy hidden puddle!

 

Talking of squelchy, the Wetlands were pleasingly wet. According to Wikipedia: 

A wetland is a land area that is saturated with water, either permanently or seasonally, such that it takes on the characteristics of a distinct ecosystem...wetlands consist primarily of hydric soil, which supports aquatic plants.

During the winter, some attention-seeking MP was condemning money spent by the Environment Agency on creating a wetlands in his - admittedly subaquatic - constituency. I sighed big sighs - if the water doesn't go into wetlands, it has to go somewhere else.

 

I got told off by a rather bossy dog woman for wearing the wrong shoes. I was stunned into silence until she had gone. She wore Wellingtons, which are right for her, but they give inadequate support and cushioning for me. It wasn't like I was wearing sandals or PE pumps. I was wearing proper genuine walking boots, Gore-Tex from an outdoors shop. They did me just fine. Yes, they're suede, but I can't help being innately stylish. I pass judgement about people's footwear all the time - in my head. They're adults, they'll cop onto themselves one day, and it's none of my flipping business. It's uncouth to criticise strangers whose behaviour is not affecting oneself. Rude dog woman. 

 

The walk through the Wetlands goes into Morden Hall Park;  several attempts to take iconic bridge photos.

  

Stroll across to the Snuff Mill.

 
I tried a few photoly effects. Not sure what to conclude:

  

It was great to see many people out in the park, but sad not to see those those not enjoying the welcome and overdue sunlight. Part of me thinks that everybody should spend more time in our great parks, but another part of me thinks, no, we don't want the stunningly secret Morden Hall Park to be over-run by people! If you've never been, you could do worse than follow Morden Hall Park walk. Indeed, there are things in that I've never seen.

Great, too, to see early signs of Spring. I feel guilty for writing that. Last year, Spring arrived late, and all the better for it - bumper crops and so on. But I so wanted the gloom of winter to be over.

I took many poor quality shots of wildfowl, including herons, but I have more than enough mediocre photos of wildfowl. Time to say, enough is enough.

Normally in Morden Hall Park we walk (or cycle) down the grand drive next to the Hay Meadow, but this time we took the riverside route, through the arboretum...squelch squelch! It was so quiet, we only passed one other couple. We sat on a bench to watch the world go by but nothing did.

 

except some geese, and a heron taking flight

 

Not even much traffic on Morden Road

 Into Ravensbury Park where the millstream flowed in full force.

 

Several rubbish attempts to photograph waterfowl. Maybe I should get a DSLR with a Zoom lens. One more thing to carry around, and lose. Or I'd be daunted by using it so my photography would dwindle and cease. I was quite pleased with these, anyway

Just before we saw the swan we had noticed a couple of women in their mid twenties. We both thought they were probably Irish Travellers. One was careering along the footpath on a child's scooter (although I've subsequently seen rather too many adults on such a scooter). The other was taking an enormous St Bernard for a walk. We met at the swan, there was also a Polish mother and toddler. Our attention was drawn by the swan. The St Bernard stood there, relaxing, keeping an eye on the swan, not getting excited or agitated. I have never seen a dog so disciplined and well-behaved in the presence of water fowl. Swan, St Bernard, Sunshine...can't beat that (sadly, the St Bernard was lacking brandy). If I ever had a dog it would be a St Bernard. And not for the brandy! I should have photoed the St Bernard, but I didn't, so here's a photo of the London Rd bridge

We had caught a bus and a Tube to get to the Wandle, now we were in for a new adventure - a Croydon tram. Amazingly, only my second ever ride on a Croydon tram, and Jimmy's first

 

Our journey ended on a standard train to Streatham Common, not a station we use much. And early dinner in the Railway. Not sure what to think. Very positive about their craft ales and ciders, but this is no way to serve tea.

I shouldn't have needed to ask for this. Granted, this wasn't in the tea room. Even so, it's not difficult - teabags don't go in teacups. If you're making it in the cup, the cup must be a mug. If you're serving it in a teacup, it should be brewed in a pot. The water was not boiling. Their ineptitude at making tea made me less well disposed. I was part of a mass exodus when several of us separately but together decided it's pointless being in a pub where you can't hear yourself think over a baby that wouldn't stop screaming. 

The squid for a starter was very nice.

and the Somerset brie, chargrilled courgettes & sun dried tomato chutney on brioche bun, hand cut chips, bloody Mary ketchup filled a spot. Foodwise I'd go back the next time I come off a train at Streatham Common starving hungry. But maybe the service and ambience would put me off. Too far to 'pop out' to, but not special enough to justify a special journey.

 

 

 

View Merton Abbey To Mitcham Tram in a larger map

Battersea Park boating

I created this post almost two months ago, in order to post photos and write about a trip to Battersea Park last summer. But, on reflection, there's not a great deal to say. 

It was a hot day in June and summer had barely begun. We didn't know it, but this was the start of an extended period of gloriously hot summer weather. 

We caught the bus down to Battersea Park. We intended to go boating, but worried that everybody else would have the same idea, and the queue would be a mile long. And, indeed, there was a queue. I suggested we joined it, and after ten minutes we would be able to gauge the length of the wait. After ten minutes, we were taking possession of a rowing boat - the wait was longer for pedalos, but we wanted to row.

We spent an hour rowing. We don't do it very often, and my partner cannot grasp that I am better at it than him. Even though I always explain "I used to row at University".

I know you have visions of me, in an eight, up at dawn to train on the River Trent. That's not precisely what I mean, even though my old University has a decent reputation for rowing - in fact, I don't think you can call yourself a Nottingham graduate unless you did some rowing at Uni...on the boating lake.

Battersea Park is a lot smaller than Highfields in Nottingham and a lot of it is roped off. Sharing the water with so many other users, as well as myriad water fowl, means more time is spent steering round obstacles than actually opening up and rowing straight. Perhaps inevitably there's always one party who seem to think that there's only them on the lake and everyone must make way for them.

I was rather touched to see a young woman in a hijab with two young boys in a rowing boat. She was floundering, not having grasped that you have to sit backwards in the boat.

I explained to her that you have to use the oars to push the water backwards so that the boat can move into the space - and use the small boys as lookouts. It would have been easy to mock her ineptitude but I admire her for venturing outside her comfort zone and bringing a great new experience to her sons. I hope they found the hidden treasure.

Boating in a municipal park is a nice way to spend an hour every so often, and it's not difficult once you get the hang of it.

A Wandle ride in June

We got on our bikes and rode.

Almost, anyway! Firstly we caught the train to Waddon. And braved crossing the gridlocked A23 before reaching Waddon Ponds. The road's horrible. Or perhaps it's just the drivers, some of whom have poor risk assessment, poor understanding of traffic lights and scant respect for other road users.
Such a relief to get into Waddon Ponds. So very quiet. Odd, really. It's in the middle of a densely populated area. Admittedly it was a school/work day for many, and the weather was a little overcast and there had been a brief light shower when we were on the train. But the forecast was warm and sunny for the summer solstice; it had been a long wet cold spring.

Leaving Waddon Ponds behind, you encounter signs of electricity generation - the towers of the old power station, now IKEA and a local transformer station.

 

We cycled on into Beddington Park. We'd been there just a couple of months earlier and I had taken a lot of photos - and written at some length - so there's little value in doing that all over again. It was looking lusher and greener

 

I was annoyed to see this tractor mowing the grass for no obvious reason. It's not clear what the field is used for. It's not even marked out for sport and doesn't seem to serve any useful purpose. But, as you can see, something that may be wild flowers are sprouting. This mowing, dictated no doubt by a municipal timetable, seemed like wanton destruction of a meadow that could have been allowed to prosper until the autumn, as, thankfully, is happening in many other places.

Another picture of the Terracotta Bridge

and the clarity of the river

 
At the end of the park is The Grange. This is an old mansion and is set amongst a formal garden that I made a mental note to revisit when in full bloom. Cycling is the enemy of photography! We stopped there for a coffee and while we sat outside beside a tiny tributary of the Wandle, the sun came out. Finally, summer had arrived, at about half past three

Coming out of the park we had to negotiate a difficult junction made more difficult by it being the peak of school run. And then we had to make a decision. For a short stretch it's not possible to walk or cycle alongside the River. We could have taken the cut-through to Wilderness Island, following the Wandle from its major source in Croydon. But we chose to pass along residential back streets and pass the Westcroft Leisure centre, en route for the other source at Carshalton Ponds. At five to four I passed an older - but definitely not elderly - woman who sighed and lamented at the hot weather we'd been having. For all of 25 minutes! How was she going to cope in coming weeks - hopefully by at least removing her coat.

It was good to see The Grove at Carshalton so full of children and teenagers enjoying the late afternoon sun after a day at school. I felt madly envious. I never once went to a park after school. The Primary School day finished at quarter to four but we had to sit in the school hall for another half an hour awaiting a bus to take us home. There was an excellent Primary school ten minutes walk away but my parents didn't think it was good enough, and exercised their right to religious separatism, thus ensuring I had no childhood friends living near me. The unaltering daily routine was never broken for a spontaneous trip to the park to play in long overdue solstice sunshine. Solstices weren't generally discussed in my religious separatist schools (taxpayer funded)*. 

We cycled round the ponds and ended  up in the newly refurbished and re-opened Honeywood Museum

The tea room had a sign "Due to staffing difficulties, unfortunately the tea room will remain closed today" which was a pity, but probably not a decision taken lightly. The museum was great to look round when passing, although I'm not sure it's worth visiting especially. A mixture of local history, including the natural history of The Wandle, and some 'imagine life in the olden days' with paintings and other art works.

Well, it was very enjoyable until the arrival of the archetypal show-off Dad - the one who talks in loud stilted tones to the children he barely knows in order to impress someone - either us or the museum staff - what an amazing father he is. We don't actually care, but if you want us to judge, we feel you'd be better off listening to and getting to know your children.

It had been a lovely day back but the journey was unpleasant. Carshalton Station is close by. But trains from there do not serve Streatham Hill. To use this station would require changing at Balham, either to cycle home, or catch a southbound train - at a time when bicycles aren't permitted. Instead we headed for Carshalton Beeches. To be honest, if I had been on my own, and just a pedestrian I would have ended up in tears, at the cars zooming along narrow roads, the disgusting smell from the engine exhausts and the challenge of crossing a blind bend four-way junction with no pedestrian crossing - outside a school! Looking at the map there does seem to be an obvious back-street route, which I'll remember for the future. But on the way, I wished I'd gone to Balham and endured that slight but continuous climb back home! 

* my secondary school had many flaws I could spend hours listing but taken overall it was a good and, in retrospect, an outstandingly cool school that has produced many successful professional women

Some other of my Wandle posts:

The Wandle - Colliers Wood to Hackbridge

A Wandle in May

Rediscovering the Wandle

Wandle Wanderings Part 3

Wandle Wanderings Part 2

Wandle Wanderings Part 1

Wandle Wander

Related articles

Walk 9: Mitcham Eastfields walk to Sutton

Wonderful Wandle

An oasis of wilderness

Sydenham Hill Woods

We went here almost, perhaps entirely, by accident. One of those days when you drive around a little aimlessly, so unsure where you're going that you end up having to pay the toll on College Road Dulwich. 

On Crescent Wood Road, we saw several cars parked, and various people heading to an open gate outside which was a sign for the Green Chain. Seemed silly not to explore!

Immediately we descended a long staircase which brought us into the woods and almost immediately onto the path of an old railway line. This was the Crystal Palace and South London Junction Railway which opened in 1865. The last service was in 1954 and the track was lifted in 1956. Along with neighbouring Dulwich Wood, this is the largest part of the ancient Great North Wood. It is managed by the London Wildlife Trust. The disused tunnel is now a roost for bats.

We visited in mid-April last year. The previous months had been exceptionally wet. A key feature of many of our Spring walks - and ensuing blogposts - was the considerable amount of mud and standing water. Not so much standing water here, but certainly lots of mud. I was glad I was wearing my walking boots; they needed a good scrub down later. I would guess it will be equally - if not more - muddy for the foreseeable future

I'm not sure how far we walked because although I set 'My Tracks' app on my phone, I forgot to turn it off when we got back in the car, so the stats told me we covered 8 miles. Google suggests that it's 4 miles from home, but because of traffic congestion we didn't drive the most direct route. So the walk wasn't notable for its length although really quite strenuous. We completely lost our bearings and wandered around aimlessly and in circles. It turned out we had crossed to the far side of Dulwich Wood, and ended up having to ask directions from a dog walker. Dogs are not allowed in Sydenham Hill Wood during Spring, so I should have sussed out we were in a different wood!

We have been meaning to go back several times but haven't yet. It was a strange and eerie place to visit, like a sunken wood in a secret valley. It is clearly teeming with wildlife, all sorts of trees and woodland plants, and nesting boxes. According to Wikipedia: 

it is home to over 200 species of trees and flowering plants. A multitude of fungi, rare insects, birds and elusive woodland mammals including the Wood mouse] are also present.

I increasingly find it frustrating that not only do I rarely know one species of tree or bird from another but I also rarely even see birds that are supposed to be in places. I now have apps on my phone to identify birds and trees, but, as with flowers, you need a broad idea of what they might be, or resemble, in order to narrow them down. Besides, when out walking, who wants to spend the entire time consulting phone apps. Surely the point is exercise and fresh air - the 'walk' bit - and an open almost passive awareness of the surroundings, seeing it and absorbing it, rather than actively pursuing sights of specific objects!

A couple of weeks after we visited the BBC published this narrated Slide Show, just over four minutes

 

View Larger Map

Wikipedia Page

LB Southwark page

Wildlife Trusts

Sydenham Hill Woods from Transpontine blog

Sydenham Hill Wood and Folly from thelondonphile blog

Thames Tributary Effra -Sydenham Hill from Edith's Streets

The mysteries of the night wood remain from Daniel Greenwood

Tooting Commons in March

I went for a walk on Tooting Commons in March. I often go for a stroll or a short bike spin but don't always take my camera, or take my camera but don't use it, or take indifferent photos. So here is a set of fairly indifferent photos from what is, in some ways, my local park.

The ground was sodden, and in some places, waterlogged. This was no great surprise -  I had found this in various places in precedeing weeks. In Dorset, I had fallen several times into a quagmire.

 
 

Later,a tree was to come down, possibly as a result of this. A few minutes walk away, one had already fallen.

In a soaked landscape, only the Ecology Pond was, as ever, dry.

 

I had a vague plan to find the elusive Streatham Pumping station, but instead wandered around Furzedown taking photos of random houses.

   

I have a photo album dedicated to Tooting Commons

Related articles

Morning Walks (Day 45 - Wednesday 26 December)

Streatham Common in March

I was watching an episode of the student sit-com 'Fresh Meat'. The character Kingsley claimed to have 'gone for a walk' - to cover up for his two-timing - and the amusingly odious JP said 'No one under 30 goes for a walk'. I identified so strongly with that. Recently I have had several conversations lamenting my failure to appreciate the localities where I have previously lived. As a student I never ventured to the river, only two miles away (who knew there was a river in Nottingham?). I rarely even walked around the University Lake. I lived in Westcliff on Sea for eighteen months, and only walked along the sea front when I had visitors. 

I spent four years living in the heart of Streatham. I then moved a mile and a half away, making Streatham Common slightly less accessible. But I struggle to think of the times I actually walked on the Common in all those years. Once with friend L, and once with friend H, but other than that...!

I decided years ago that I would regret nothing in life, except where I had caused harm, especialy to people's feelings. I stick by that resolution, but there is a frustration that I didn't enjoy these simple pleasures - basically cost-free - more frequently. Instead of regretting this I must look to the future and remember how many pleasant strolls there are in easy reach of home. On a grey overcast drizzly December day it's hard to feel motivated, but these photos, with grey skies and a lingering mist, remind me of the simple sensual pleasure of a leisurely walk.

I'm not a 'Walker' in any meaningful sense. Health reasons restrict my range to four or five miles, at most. There are numerous articles about the health benefits of walking, tempered with the caveat that the benefit lies only in walking with sufficient exertion to be out of breath. Recently I was in a conversation with a slight acquaintance and she was witheringly dismissive, clearly she had made up her mind that I was not capable of energetic walking - and that that made me a bad person morally. (Another conversation, not involving me) made me realise she was simply an unpleasant person. I'm keen to encourage people with health or fitness problems to try some gentle walking, not strenuous, and hope they feel some of the pleasure I feel. As they build up their confidence and stamina, they will do more. They may take time to reach the required number of minutes of brisk walking so many times a week that would satisfy the Unpleasant Woman, but a gentle stroll helps the physical and mental health of most people.

One March day I caught the bus up to the 'top' of Streatham Common and walked round The Rookery. Schools were in session, so, only tranquility; just a few strollers enjoying the trail-end of winter. It was misty, lending an ethereal quality.

The Rookery is a formal garden, with pond and well.

 

In the 18th century, Streatham's Wells were renowned for their 'health-giving properties', having three times the mineral content of Epsom's.

A gate leads into the woods and barely noticeable is a small stream, a tributary of Norbury Brook, which flows into the River Graveney, which in turn flows to the River Wandle.

 

After strolling round The Rookery I walked briskly down the Common and along the High Road to Hideaway. Not a jazz fan, I have never been in the evening, but it's a great place to catch a snack lunch. Also reputed to serve the best breakfast in Streatham. I was happy with my roast vegetable pie.

My previous bloggage:

Streatham Common

Streatham photo album

 Other blogs:

Pleasure and Payne - from London Postcode Walks

Rookery - from Diamond Geezer

Pensive Moments in The Rookery, Streatham - from The World, Myself and I 

Morning Walkies Streatham Common - from Don's Photography Blog

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Beckenham Place Park

"I don't really intend to visit every park in South London. Nevertheless, when we have occasional access to a car, it's nice to discover the larger expanses of greenery that make up South London. The Green Chain Walk is a useful reference and, in theory, the entire chain can be walked in 11 easy chunks. But, like the Capital Ring, too much walking time is wasted walking between the parks and not enough time is devoted to exploring them.

We drove to Beckenham Place Park, the long way (and returned on a much shorter route). 

It's not an unpleasant park and potentially could be extremely pleasant.

Beckenham Manor dates back to mediaeval times. According to Wikipedia:

"...Manorial rights passed to the noted Quaker and MP John Cator in 1773.
Cator, reputed to be friends with Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus, introduced many exotic tree species and a lake, which is now dry. Even today, there are reputed to be 60 species of tree on the estate."

Unfortunately, when the London County Council acquired the park in 1927, the golf course already existed, and it reamins a blot on the landscape. I have read recently that there is more land in England used for golf courses than housing. Much of the supposedly sacred greenbelt is golf courses.

This golf course is council-owned and  pay-per-play and in theory less elitist than private golf courses. And yet, while we were there, the few people actually playing golf were exclusively white males of a narrow age range. "South London imaginary gangsters," I said. "Taxi drivers" said my South London white male of that age group. Snobbily. They stood on the verandah of their clubhouse in the surprising heat of a sunny February Sunday shouting their mouths off. Intimidating and off-putting to anyone else, and not good use of municipal green space. And, more to the point, the mown lawns, bunkers and flags spoil the natural landscape for the majority who are not golfers

 

It's definitely worth visiting, especially if you do your homework first. The Friends of Beckenham Place Park say

"The first time or occasional visitor to BPP may not appreciate its true extent" and their list of attractions include:

• Sensory and Ornamental gardens 
• Ancient Woodland. 
• Picnic and Meadow areas,
• Nature Trail and Riverside Walk

They provide a PDF  for the Nature Trail or you can follow it electronically. We had a lovely stroll through the woods - once there you can barely hear the sounds of the golfers. We didn't explore the Riverside Walk, on the far side of the Railway line, but when we go again I shall be following the Nature Trail, and would recommend it to other people, notwithstanding the ghastliness of the golf course. I enjoyed my walk and was in an overall good mood but for some reason wasn't inclined to take photographs.

The Wandle - Colliers Wood to Hackbridge

It's easy enough to get to Colliers Wood. We started this walk with a row. I can't remember the genesis of it, and it had no lasting consequence. He declared that we must join the Wandle Trail at Colliers Wood. Take me there, then, I hissed. He didn't know how, by public transport.

Then we wanted coffee and a snack, and the only choice seemed to be the café at Sainsburys. (We had forgotten the existence of the William Morris pub).

We passed the Water Wheel at Merton Abbey Mills. I keep doing this, photographing water wheels to convey the motion, but this never comes across in stills photography.

Merton Abbey Mills is forever associated with William Morris, the Pre-Raphaelite textile designer, artist, writer, and socialist, and with Liberty & Co. There was a railway station there for a relatively brief period.

The day we walked was London Open Garden Squares day and Deen City Farm, which is usually open Tuesday to Sunday with free admission, had nevertheless laid on a special - not least by putting out signs inviting us in. We'd always passed by: it's a City farm, it's for kids.

We looked round their gardens, and looked at their animals, although many of my photos were not worth keeping sadly, they were mostly turkeys.

  My absolute highlight was getting to stroke this tame owl, called Edna. I've never stroked an owl before!

 We also watched some small children displaying their basic dressage skills

From the City Farm, the riverside path leads to Morden Hall Park, but first we must pass the tramline. At this point the trams go pretty fast - it's not like crossing them in central Croydon. You have to have your wits about you. I know, this photo would be better with an actual tram, but when you know another opportunity will arise another day who can be bothered to hang around!

We normally head along the path directly to the Mansion but for a change we took the path through the Wetlands. It's promoted as  haven for wildlife, but I rarely see anything of interest anywhere. Too little patience and I've not trained myself to spot things!

   
We rejoin the main path by the stone bridge.

The heart of the park is busy, many people have a picnic or are snoozing or strolling in the sun. A dog plays in the river.

We follow the Wandle Trail through the Hay Meadow, looking glorious, and nearly impossible to photograph. It's only later that I realise we have been here many times and the Wandle Trail does not go along the Wandle, which meanders through a rose garden and arboretum. We don't join it again until we cross Morden Road and enter Ravensbury Park. Ravensbury Park includes a conventional municipal open space. The children's play area was audible although not intrusive. I'm sure it is invaluable in serving the local community.

But the Wandle Trail-ist stays close to the River Bank. I envy the people whose mundane suburban semis have gardens that fall down to the river. Some appreciate it more than others.

We are rarely far from reminders of the Wandle's industrial past or how the river was diverted to serve that industry.

We continue along the path and enter the tranquility that makes me love Ravensbury Park. For a few moments you are totally alone. The passers-by are few, and seem self-absorbed. Do they see what I see and try to photograph?

The coots are irresistable, if tricky to photograph.

 
 

Crossing London Road we achieved something we hadn't previously achieved - finding how we walk alongside the Wandle without trespassing into the Watermeads Nature Reserve, which is closed to the public. (I'm not frightfully bothered about 'trespass' but desperately want to respect 'Nature Reserve'). There is a narrow path running to the left of the car park at Tooting and Mitcham Football Ground. Radio Jackie were broadcasting live from the car park to a crowd of nearly dozens, and although I retain a fondness for Radio Jackie, I did think they were unnecessarily loud - perhaps audible throughout their entire catchment area without an intermediary transmitter to help. Also I pondered that a ground like T&M's lies empty for most of their time, with an average attendance of less than 200. The local council site does note that it has 'community and mixed sport facilities', nevertheless it does seem such a waste of space to see a sports ground not available for sports even on a fine spring Sunday. Wikipedia writes about the The KNK stadium/Imperial Fields:

The former Chelsea, Crystal Palace and Brentford training ground is adjacent to the River Wandle into which many footballs were lost over time.

For people who 'do' the Wandle Trail end-to-end, the area near the Watermeads is a favourite location to post photos saying LOOK, LONDON, INNIT. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? LONDON!

I am no exception!

   

It is a stunningly lovely place to walk. The greenery provides shade, the river is tranquil. Relatively few people walk along this path and the aroma is soothing. But it's really boring to photograph. I have looked through my photos from this gorgeous day out, including the ones I'm not blogging, and they're endless unstoppable green green green. The walker (stroller? saunterer?) in me is deeply grateful that south London is so green. The snapper, not so.

And we reach Poulter Park. No doubt a perfectly pleasant park, but the habitat of The Dog Couple. The woman sat on the lawn while the dog bounded around. The dog ran up to and threw itself at me, paws all over me. "Get that thing off me!" I said. The woman just sat their on her arse and with no conviction mumbled "Flopsy, here!" Flopsy ignored her and ran back and forth, attacking me twice more. It is entirely conceivable that I may have sworn when I said "You should keep that thing under control".

We returned to the Riverbank where we encountered the husband fishing - notwithstanding signs saying it was the Close Season - and sneeringly he said that the dog had never attacked anyone before so what was I worried about. Given that neither of them looked like they had ever walked a dog - or done anything that resembled exercise - in ten years (and I'm being kind) I don't know how he could possibly assert his dog was harmless. And its history was irrelevant - it had attacked me. No actual physical harm done, but I am far from alone in being quite terrified of stupid little lapdogs launching themselves at me. Scumbags seem to think they have some absolute right, and I have no rights, whereas I think they have some rights, but those rights do not infringe on my right not to be molested.

Fortunately, we soon encountered more ducks on the river.

 
The next stretch of the trail is a bit boring, as you are separated from the river by industrial units. We paused in a strangely deserted - and thus slightly intimidating  Watercress Park - and took the Easterly fork of the divided river towards Hackbridge.  

By now, we were not far from Wilderness Island and could have continued to Carshalton, but it's best to know when to call it a day, especially when you are near a bus stop, and a bus in due in less than ten minutes.

That bus took us to The Sun Pub. Decent enough pub for travellers wanting refreshment and one I wouldn't hesitate to use again when on the Trail. Decent ale and proper attention to non-alcoholic refreshment. I also liked the poster I saw on the door of the women's loos but was disappointed it didn't have an equivalent for the men's loos. I would like to see more, similar signs in other pubs, but would also like an environment where pubs don't need to state what should be basic common sense!

  Merton Abbey Mills from Miss Immy's London

Morden Hall to Colliers Wood, Walk (part 3)Merton Abbey Mills and Colliers Wood - Urban 75

Environment Agency Report on Merton Abbey Mill 

A trip to the Lake District, South Norwood

Lake District name claim by South Norwood tourist group 'Bassenthwaite is the only lake in Cumbria actually called a lake'

The true Lake District? The day I wandered lonely as a cloud... in South Norwood

Residents of ‘beautiful’ South Norwood defend plan to claim Lake District title from Cumbria

Lake District urged to give up its title by South London wannabes: A self-styled “tourist board” in a run-down suburb of South London has demanded a Cumbrian authority stops calling itself the Lake District because it has a better claim to the title.

These startling news stories date from April of this year, but we had already begun our Lake District odyssey last summer. I had an idea that I should visit every park in South London. We had started our excursion at Beckenham Cemetery and Crematorium, admiring the roses, so much lovelier than the ones we had paid to see at a National Trust property the previous day. We proceeded onwards, pausing only to purchase petrol at Elmers End, and drove to South Norwood Country Park, which has a fascinating history. Unfortunately, despite being July, it was almost dark in early afternoon, and wet and miserable, so we went home, failing to enjoy the wildlife of SNCP's wetlands.

Undeterred, seven months later we went to South Norwood Lake

It is a lake, lying between South Norwood and Anerley National Rail/London Overground stations, and not too far from the famous Selhurst Park stadium, with the legendary Crystal Palace transmitter (one of them) clearly visible.

Trains run past, indeed just a couple of weeks ago, I was on a train from Streatham Hill to West Croydon, and glanced out of the window, and saw people in rowing boats or pedalos, enjoying the lake. 

On the day that we visited in February, there must have been engineering work on the main railway line, as I saw a Gatwick Express, which normally runs on rails somewhat to the west of here.

We walked all the way round the lake and reached the playing fields, which were startlingly waterlogged after an exceptionally wet winter.

I was able to conclude that this is a very nice green space for people who live locally, but I don't think it will warrant a second visit from travellers such as I, coming from afar. I wonder if every park in south London is actually worth travelling to see. 

The South Norwood Tourist Board will rename the lake in the Country Park after Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle, but I'd have to look through the website to see if they have naming plans for this lake. They are also planning guided walks of the area.

FIRST SEEING SOUTH NORWOOD COUNTRY PARK LAKE COMPARABLE TO BALBOA’S DISCOVERY OF THR PACIFIC

South Norwood Lake: A mini Oasis

Places I love, Issue 1: South Norwood Lake

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A Wandle in May

Train from Streatham Hill to Carshalton. A short canter down the hill, and into The Grove, the muncipal park beside Carshalton Ponds. We ignored The Ponds, and the remains of the headwaters to their south. I was soon attracted by a heron. These photos will never win a photo competition; I think to get proper wildlife pictures you need infinite patience and time, and be prepared to venture away from a popular public park.

     

This was the Sunday before May Bank Holiday, and the coldest Spring for fifty years finally seemed to be blooming.

The waterfall is always worth a photo.

We followed the Wandle Trail path out of the park. A child of 7 or 8 fell off his three-wheeled scooter at speed. Dad lectured him "Tarquin, that is exactly why you must wear your helmet on your scooter, you would have been hurt without your helmet" Tarquin (not his real name) had landed on his hands and knees, which will never be protected by a helmet. Tarquin would have been better off, more stable and less likely to fall, on a proper bicycle. Especially given that he was way past being a toddler.

We barely passed a soul as we headed to Wilderness Island. I love how the Wandle threads through densely populated residential areas.

Bluebells grow on its banks

If I had to live in a flat I'd like one beside the river. Barely a soul was about; they take for granted the river that flows below their windows feeding the mighty Thames.

The path diverts from the river to pass the railway bridge on Mill Lane, but at the far side is a beach!

 

We reach Wilderness Island. Shall we carry on and attempt to walk to London, or should we enter the island? Always enter the island.

Places have names that evoke something they are not. Wilderness Island, sandwiched between Carshalton and Croydon, a stone's throw from Hackbridge. But the name actually suits. The 'watersmeet' has been a Local Nature Reserve since 1990 with several ponds, and osier beds (osiers are willow saplings, grown for basketmaking). Throughout the history of the working river, the waters have been diverted to suit industry.

We spent nearly an hour strolling round Wilderness Island. Very little information exists about it on the web, but Bob Steel's River Wandle Companion is invaluable. Natural England has a basic listing.

It's not a place that photographs well. Nothing can quite capture the still and quiet, nor can a blog ever convey the smells and sounds of a wilderness in suburbia. We encountered very few people; those that we did were clearly enjoying the near-solitude as much as us.

       

As ever with The Wandle, alongside the nature reclaimed, is always the industry, quiet on a Sunday afternoon.

 

One moment you're practically on a residential street, the next, you're in the country

 

We walked on from Wilderness Island, over Hackbridge Road, and taking the Westerly route through to Watercress Park. We decided to call it a day and walked to the Goat pub - I don't think we'd do that again. The staff were polite and warm, and my bitter shandy tasted fine, but Jimmy's pint was iffy and some of the locals were quite scary. We finished our walk at Mitcham Junction and my tracking app measured 3.83 miles, which was just enough.

I don't know where I took these photos

 

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Rediscovering the Wandle

Battersea Park in winter

There had been a fair amount of snow in January, even to the extent of there being at least one 'Snow Day'. At the end of the month was an early - if false - hint of Spring. At the time this felt good. But March was harsh, and Spring seemed to be late. Actually, 'normal' not premature like many recent years. And this was good because it led to stronger and more plentiful produce.

We thought we would take a moderate stroll and, that, more or less was what we did. Simple bus journey to Battersea Park and a pleasant hour or so walking. I thought I knew Battersea Park fairly well, but everytime I visit I find something new. Partly because they have introduced new aspects but mainly because there is so much to explore.

We had the obligatory walk around the lake which was partly iced and partly thawed.

The rowing boats were beached for winter.

 The reflections in the lake didn't quite materialise into the photos I had hoped for

   

The Pumphouse, a Gallery and Venue-for-Hire loomed like an aristocrat's folly in the woods.

 

In the distance, a Barabara Hepworth

This is Single Form (Memorial), and is a replica or copy, by the artist of Single Form, her largest work, which stands in the United Nations Plaza in New York, in memory of Dag Hammarskjöld. See also Two Forms (Divided Circle), which I snapped in Dulwich Park, before it was stolen.

Closer at hand was Henry Moore's Three Standing Figures.

 Read more about Battersea Park Sculpture

More photos near the lake

The Sub-Tropical Gardens in Battersea date from 1863, but were abandoned in World War II when many  gardeners went to war and the land was turned over for much needed food production. They were recreated and reopened in 2004. Winter is not the best time to see them.

 It was only when I got home that I learned that a Winter Garden was opened in 2011. Perhaps this should be on my To-Do List this winter! According to this map it's tucked away by the Sun Gate, on Albert Bridge Road, at the furthest end from the river.

A Guardian article: The winter's tale: It is the season too often neglected but a newly planted Winter Garden in Battersea will be a beacon in the dark.

BBC News: Battersea Park unveils £150,000 winter garden

We walked to the river where all was desolate and frozen. I had never seen these installations before but I believe they've been there some time.

 Unfortunately, I made the mistake of not going back the way we'd come, so I ended up having a long and increasingly painful walk down Albert Bridge Road and Battersea Park, neither exciting nor salubrious, in order to catch our bus back home.

Just because they're not worth a blogpost of themselves, here's a couple of shots of my garden, taken 6 days previously.

 I have a small photo album dedictaed to Battersea Park

 

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Blogposts from others

Battersea Park from Girl With a Dog and Good Shoes

Battersea Park, London from Sapphire City

Battersea Park, without a Boris Bike from Sunny in London

Battersea Park from Alisha Magic

Saturday in Battersea Park from Sas Petherick

Balade dans Battersea Park (In French but Google translates it)

Battersea Park  from Karen Pas Grand-Chose (in English!)

A Walk Through Battersea Park from Ham Life

Brockwell Park Fireworks 2012

   I thought I'd write this because Bonfire Night 2013 is imminent.

I don't know what possessed me last year to go off to Brockwell Park and watch the fireworks. To say I on't like fireworks is an understatement - largely stemming from being hit by a firework ten years ago. 

I think I was tempted by the announcement that Brockwell Park fireworks were done by the same team that did the Olympic Fireworks. And there was to be mulled Chucklehead Cider on sale.

The funfair was cancelled because the Parks department felt that after an exceptionally wet spring and summer, and significant autumn rainfall, the fair would damage the grass too much. They are planning a children's funfair this year. 

Tens of thousands of people flocked to Brockwell Park. There were strict rules on not taking personal fireworks, including sparklers, into the park. There were plenty of stewards and a low key police presence. Kids could buy light sabres or neon tiaras. The cider was excellent, the doughnuts not so. And at 8 pm the Mayor of Lambeth announced the start of the firework display. 23 minutes of whoosh and bang with a pop music soundtrack. Some people living in flats overlooking the park complained, but I feel - it's 23 minutes of loud whoosh and bang, and somewhat dodgy pop music. 23 minutes. For 362 days of the year, you live in a flat overlooking a gorgeous park.

And I took some photos. Looking back, I see that I set my camera at its smallest aperture, and set the ISO to 200. Most of the exposure times seem to be about 1 second - I'm surprised they weren't more affected by  camera shake. Quite a few people posted their applephone pictures on Twitter. Don't use an applephone to photograph fireworks!

 

Many more photos in Brockwell Park album

Rediscovering the Wandle

We have cycled various stretches of the Wandle on several occasions but cycling is not as good for photography as walking. It was a decent day in late April when we adventured far into the distant reaches of Waddon. Eight months earlier we had discovered the source of the Wandle at Carshalton; now it was Croydon's turn. We started at Waddon because I was not sure of the state of affairs at Wandle Park, Croydon (NB Do not confuse with Wandle Park Colliers Wood - that will never do!). Waddon, frequent trains from Streatham Hill; unfortunately one has to brave the nightmare traffic that is Purley Way, to reach Waddon Ponds. These proved to be a surprise pleasure, an oasis of calm just feet from the A23.

The landscape changed as we walked along. Greenery, stretches where the banks are reinforced by concrete, and delightful artisan-style dwellings. It suddenly struck me I wouldn't necessarily rule out moving to live round here - it would be lovely to be right by the river and yet within easy commuting distance of Central London. I was quite shocked at my thoughts!

     

Over Beddington Lane and into the periphery of Beddington Park. With the sun beating down there was something delightfully bucolic about the river, at this point still little more than a stream.

 

The walk into Beddington Park was almost rural in its aspect.

 

This was slightly marred by some tattooed chav allowing his bull terrier dogs to run at me in a definitely aggressive way. A man passing by with his toddler looked at me with shock and sympathy. This was soon put behind me when we turned a corner and there was Carew Manor. Neither of us had any idea that this existed and in seemingly such an incongruous place.

Carew Manor dates back to the 1500’s and comprises of a number of buildings. Aside from the main house, the land also holds a Dovecote, Orangery Wall, church and parkland. The building itself has a Great Hall that is important being the only Grade 1 listed site in the London Borough of Sutton.The building has particular relevance during the time of the Tudors. The Carew family had direct links with Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I visited Carew Manor on a number of occasions during her reign.

From Carew Manor Project

The Dovecote is listed and the Lodge is intriguing.

 

The Church, St Mary's, seems more appropriate to a rural setting.

   
 

The Manor is also impressive, although I didn't photograph it well

Beddington Park is truly delightful. This is Canon's Bridge, given to the rector Canon Bridges. I wonder if that was a little joke! It's made of terracotta

We walked along the canalised river through parkland and woodlands still soggy from an exceptionally wet few months. Already, children were playing in the river. I envied them and approved of their parents' parenting.

   

 The directions for the Wandle Trail refer heavily to bridges as waymarkers.

   

And on a nest, the moorhens were enjoying Spring. Perhaps sitting on their eggs.

An April Shower arrived andmy feet were aching, mainly because of the walk to Streatham Hill station and wandering the streets of Waddon, rather than because of the Wandle trail. We called it a day and found a bus stop, vowing to return one day.

 Waddon Ponds by Eagleash

Chasing the Wandle - The New Nature

Walking the Wandle Trail: Part 2 - The Sutton Bit: Bod's Blog

Thames Tributaries – the River Wandle - Beddington on Edith's Streets

Wandering the Wandle - Travels with my Moleskine

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Lambeth Country Show

Lambeth Country Show happens every year in Brixton's Brockwell Park, usually in July. A two-day extravaganza of largely free entertainment, laid on by the council for the enjoyment of local residents and those from afar.

For numerous tedious reasons I hadn't been for several years until last year. The 2012 Country Show was moved from July to September, because of the Olympics. There was the inevitable public dissent and threats of riots, but the day turned out to be beautiful and almost seemed to top off the glorious London 2012 summer. I had tremendous fun, and took a lot of photos. I went again this year, had some fun and took several more photos. On both occasions, I avoided the live music areas - although, to be honest, they could be heard in my garden - because on the whole they're not really my style. And we didn't get any Chucklehead Cider, due to the eye-wateringly long queues.

People from out of town refer to it as a County Show, but, despite its location in Inner City Brixton (and leafy suburban Herne Hill) it's definitely a Country Show. The following narrative doesn't distinguish particularly between the two years, because they followed a similar pattern.

There is an arena for quirky events, such as camel racing, owls, falconry, 'Dog and Duck' (I think that's basically sheepdog trials, with ducks in place of sheep), and jousting.

     

Local Nature and Growing people have stalls, including the Beekeepers.

 

The Council's Environmental Services and contractor put on a display.

     

And sell watering cans, for Alzheimers or Foodbank, to tie in with the Mayor's Charity.

 

Next stop is the Flower Zone, which contains the world famous vegetable carving area, and displays of produce to conform with the rules of the Royal Horticultural Society.

Carrots, representing Anthony Gormley's Another Place on Sefton Beach, created by my neighbour Harriet, who this year told the Edward Snowden story in carrots - see topless Putin on his horse.

The popular favourite was Patrick Moore

RHS-ruled displays of vegetables and fruit

           

5 tomatoes; collection of 4 distinct kinds of vegetables; 4 potatoes; 3 beetroots, round, 7.5 cm tops; onions; herbs, 3 cultivars.

Displays of plants

   
   

Group of cacti; 2 succulents; foliage pot plant in a container; 3 succulents other than cacti.

And all manner of flower arrangements

           

Two with musical themes

 

London Symphony Orchestra under Valery Gergiev at The Proms, strings, brass and percussion; The Proms

   

And collections of plants in troughs

 

Vauxhall City Farm display their animals; this section seems particularly popular with small children. Still, you don't often see sheep and alpacas in Brixton!

As well as Chucklehead cider, there is plenty of food on sale. I opted for Macaroni cheese with added chipotle, and had long finished it while Jimmy queued for jerk pork. When he reached the front of the queue, they had run out of rice. 

There are also stalls selling the usual things you expect at these shows nowadays, from artisan cheeses to cupcakes. Stalls for organisations like the local FE Colleges and British Heart Foundation. Many of the voluntary groups also have stalls. I have, in the past, done my stint on the Labour Party stall. Last year, these were all down the hill, away from the main thrust.

Many people come specifically for the funfair. Nowadays, I don't generally do funfairs, because my Constant Companion gets travel sick on anything that goes round. But they're awfully good fun to photo.

     

We were escorted out of the park by these folks. They came up behind and took me by surprise. I commented that they ought to have some sort of warnign sound. Maybe one that said 'Neigh, neigh'. I thought it was blooming hilarious and was pretty proud I'd made a joke up myself. But I can't actually believe no one's thought of it before!

These and many more can be seen in the photo album Lambeth Country Show

Wandle Wanderings Part 3

Almost exactly a year ago, in the interregnum between the Olympics and the Paralympics. Inspired (perhaps) by the glorious gold medal winning triumphs of Our Cyclists, we got on our bikes. Well, we got on the train, because, you know, riding to Carshalton wouldn't be that much fun. And I had discovered a direct train between Streatham Hill and Carshalton Beeches. From there it's downhill to the source of the Wandle, Carshalton Ponds.

As an aside, there are two sources of the Wandle, the other being in Wandle Park Croydon. Sustrans start the Wandle Trail in Coulsdon, as I blogged previously. The River Wandle companion suggests that on prehistoric times it may have risen in the Weald and flowed through a gap in the North Downs near Merstham.

It was a lovely day, bright sunny and dry but not hot. We free-wheeled into Carshalton and were taken by surprise. I don't think I have ever properly been to Carshalton. Twenty-odd years ago I visited a friend on Wrythe Lane a few times, but I must have taken a bus or taxi from the station away from the Wandle.

Before we even found the Wandle we found the Greyhound, a Youngs pub. I enjoyed my coffee, and Jimmy enjoyed his ale. What more to say!

When I was a kid my aunts and cousins lived in Thornton Heath and I grew up with the belief that Carshalton is posh. I don't hold that view now, having been back in the area a few times, but it's certainly pleasant. And, frankly, given that it is firmly Greater London, you can't argue with the views. One could live the pretence of semi-rural life yet with regular trains to town and a pretty decent bus service!

Sutton Council helpfully explains the origin of Carshalton Ponds - they're not natural! There is a museum, the Honeywood, but it was closed when we visited.If you read the Wandle Companion, it gives instructions for a pleasant little walking tour around Carshalton. This book, by the way, really is a must-read for anyone interested in the history and geography of the area. Perhaps not the most elegant prose style but nothing egregious and nothing really to interrupt the flow of my reading.

It was pleasant to stroll around the pond, watch children feed the ducks and feel a step removed from the incessant traffic.

 

There are some historic buildings in the area, and a fairly large park called The Grove. Some of the buildings are now used as council offices by Sutton. Perhaps not the best use, but better than them lying derelict or arguably, being in private hands.

 

The Grove is a lovely park. It serves a dual function, a run-of-the-mill park for the local community, and host to the River Wandle.

(Run of the mill. Geddit?)

It was pleasing to see children playing in an old fashioned way - wading in the river, splashing in the waterfall. Best not to photograph these, though. Two Nursery/Infant age children, actually being played with by their parents; a group of upper junior kids unsupervised but self-contained, lively but undisruptive.

The waterfall is pretty impressive!

We cycled out of The Grove and onto Wilderness Island, barely noticing what was around us. The downside of cycling - an overview of the bigger picture but lacking in any detail. And I forgot to stop and take photographs.

We finally managed to work out how to get between Poulter Park and the Watermeads. The Watermeads is a National Trust nature reserve, not generally open to the public, which I am fine about, this isn't my normal anti-National Trust rant. It just makes access to the Wandle from the North West confusing. From the South East, it makes more sense. And it felt rather wild to be cycling along a path barely wide enough for a bike, with brambles and nettles on each side, almost losing my shoes at one point.

It was nice to get to Ravensbury Park and stop for some water and a sandwich. I've never actually been into Ravensbury Park proper, which I assume is a standard local authority multi-purpose space (and that's not a criticism, Britain's parks are vastly under-valued). The stretch beside the river is one of my favourite places in London, so peaceful. From there to Morden Hall Park, another hidden gem. We didn't linger this time, wanting a cup of tea, and not sure we wanted to pay National Trust prices whilst surrounded by out-of-control kids, perhaps an unfair judgement.

I had an incident on the path leading down to Merton Abbey Mills. It was slightly busy, and in such circumstances I am careful about how I cycle - I am stronger, faster and more powerful than pedestrians, especially small children whose parents, understandably, believe the path to be traffic free. Therefore, it is my responsibility to take care. But I draw the line at annoying small dogs that career at me, causing me almost to fall off, only to be told 'He's only a puppy'. Irresponsible dog owners!

We stopped for tea and a snack at Merton Abbey Mills. It's a frustrating place, full of potential, but not quite meeting it. But, really, other than Sainsburys and the National Trust (plus a pub called the William Morris which we had forgotten about), there isn't much in the way of refreshments round there. And then we got lost on the way to Haydon's Road station, where we had to wait 27 minutes for the train, and then cycle back through Streatham.

It was a nice day out, but in retrospect it was really quite draining, and I know I didn't take on enough liquid whilst sweating freely in temperatures that were steadily rising. We didn't return to the Wandle for several months after this.However, I have over a hundred photos taken this year in a Folder called 'To be blogged/Wandle'. So, watch this space!

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The lavender of London

Wandle Wanderings Part 2

Subtitle: The day we never saw The Wandle

I purchased Cycling Traffic Free London - other areas also exist. This includes the Wandle Way, in two parts. Part 2 is, sensibly, Mitcham Common to Wandsworth. Part 1 is Coulsdon to Hackbridge. So, we followed the book, cycling from Coulsdon South to Carshalton Beeches, with not a glimpse of the Wandle. We changed at Norwood Junction for Coulsdon South. We immediately got lost and decided to sit in a nearby park, Coulsdon Memorial Ground opened in 1921, and dedicated to the memory of the men who fell in WWI. The play areas were refurbished in 2009, funded by the National Lottery. The café and toilet block was closed - the internet suggests this is long-term. By this block lay much broken glass and abandoned cans of lager, and some evidence that someone was sleeping rough there.

We found a nice little coffee shop/art gallery, Art Rebellion, definitely worth a visit if you're in the area. But, to be honest, if you want to enjoy this ride, you might as well start at Woodmansterne Station, which we passed not having really seen anything of interest.

We paused for a sip of water and found ourselves looking at a clearly historic railway bridge. Nevertheless, we didn't think anything more of it until a chance reference on a TV programme a couple of weeks later, when we realised that this was an integral part of the Surrey Iron Railway (picture copied from Wikipedia under Creative Commons).

This was the world's first railway to be publicly subscribed by Act of Parliament as a railway throughout.

It was horse drawn. More information here. The original railway went through the heavily industrialised Wandle Valley from Croydon to Wandsworth; this extension is in what one might think of the notional Wandle Valley.

It's complicated. There's a long explanation in River Wandle Companion that shows it's not nonsensical to ride out in Coulsdon in search of the Wandle. Book review here. Basically, it's about streams that only rise in wet weather.

As instructed we took a right and came upon a surprisingly pretty village green, that of the village of Woodmansterne. Quiet and peaceful, although with little more than a church to justify it as a village. I don't know why I didn't get my camera out. It was a warm day and perhaps I was more concerned with drinking water.

At this point, the instructions offer two alternative routes. We took the less strenuous, but, nevertheless had to get off and push up Chipstead Way, much to the amusement of local residents tending their gardens. No doubt, they see this sight often enough.

The great thing about climbing, especially when you believe that you are heading for a valley, is that you get the chance to whizzzzzzzzzzzzzz down Carshalton Road at considerable speed, a journey not made less hairy by the cars also doing the same. That scary feeling when you're rounding a bend and wondering what will stop cars coming up from behind and sending you into the hedgerow. I'm not saying I'm a nervous cyclist but I do prefer off-roading.

At the bottom of the hill are Mayfield Lavender fields, which were in full bloom. 

     

There were hordes of people in attendance. A surprisingly large proportion were of Japanese or Korean appearance. The tea tent was heaving - and was over-charging for weak tea in polystyrene cups - we passed. It was also possible to buy lavender and lavender-related products in the gift tent. Again, no. We passed. Still, it was nice to spend a few minutes strolling in the sweet-scented lavender fields. 

I was quite astounded at the poor level of driving in the car park and the sheer desperation on the faces of the 4x4 drivers, desperate for a parking space. One hassling a middle aged man who was trying to manoeuvre his infirm mother into the car. Another blindly driving at me even though I tried to get out of the way.

We crossed over into Oaks Park, where we did get a decent cup of tea. Although not without me being assaulted by a dog, whose owner didn't seem to realise that not everybody enjoys being slobbered over by a dirty animal, especially not when eating. I say eating, but all I could get was a packet of crisps. This park cafe had resolutely stopped serving food by 4pm on a sunny July Saturday. And Jimmy's coffee was woeful.

Still, The Oaks Park is rather splendid. Sutton Council carries a page turgidly describing its history, and showing how it connects with various local and sub-regional walks. The history is largely about the famous Oaks race 

The original Oaks Race ran from Barrow Hedges, north of The Oaks and through Oaks Park before heading west to approximately the site of the current Epsom Downs Racecourse

We will revisit it one day, when we have more time - and energy - to explore. I thoguht the view across the road was rather nice and not what you'd normally expect within the Greater London boundary.

We found a gloriously muddy track through the woods that took us back to Woodmansterne Road. For a few minutes I felt like a proper off-road cyclist. It was fun. At this point we called it a day and caught a direct train from Carshalton Beeches to Streatham Hill, our home station. But we were only a few hundred yards from the (minor) source of the Wandle!

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Wandle Wanderings Part 1

Another short ride

I was right to take that short spin to Tooting Common last week. I went out for another ride today, same destination but a greater distance. That approach is correct in the context of Graded Exercise Therapy/pacing for someone with mild fibromyalgia. Tuesday's ride was no more - but no less- than a light warm up and stretch. Today's the equivalent of a pre-prandial stroll. With the extra twist of the obligatory final leg up the hill. It was only at that point that I broke sweat and was breathing with any effort.

I dressed pretty much as I did on Tuesday - t-shirt, jogging bottoms, and canvas sandals. Just fine for a short spin like that, but if I had been going any further, I would have gone out differently. Better shoes. And more equipment. It's all nice and fluffy to go with a little handbag slung across your body,  but it's not that efficient. You need a rucksack for the water, the toolkit//pump, cardigan, map, camera, sandwiches, Swiss Army knife, ginger beer, crampons, distress flare. I exaggerate!

So, no photos.

I was going to put in a mention of a book I bought recently, called The Girl's Guide to Life on Two Wheels.

But I'm in two minds about it. It's well thought out, well written book, with some very useful tips, and some rather nive photography. But I should have taken the 'Girl' in the title as a red flag. I'm not quite sure when posh people stop being a 'girl', but other than specific usage such as 'Girls night out' most normal people stop using it by about the time they have a 'grown up' job and 'grown up' responsibilities, like bills.

Like so much of the media, it seems to assume that women are aged 35 or under, because, obviously, past the age of 35 women are, in fact, invisible, and have nothing else to do in life but curl up and wait to die.

I couldn't reasonably expect a journalist to have any insights into specific challenges of cycling with a chronic health condition, and it would be churlish to criticise someone for not catering specifically for my niche. So, if you're young, thin and girlish, this is a good book. There might be a market for a book written about cycling (and/or general fitness) for older women with health challenges, but to write it would take quite specific research and input from someone medically qualified. But of course, if anyone has any ideas, why not leave a comment, or email me!

Review from Total Women's Cycling

Back on the bike, slowly

This is a diary/progress post.

Last year, when it was quite hot, I went for a bike ride along the Wandle. At the end of the day I was moderately tired and aching, but attributed partly to my stupidity in wandering around trying to find Haydons Road station. 

The next day we took the train to the South Coast, and cycled from Shoreham to Worthing. Not far, but, in the heat, concentrating on hydration, I ignored food. Very stupid. On the Monday I had a hair appointment, only in Streatham, but because of a fatal car accident (or rather, a driver crashed his car into a bus whilst having a heart attack), the road was shut, and I had to walk. In truth, it's not a long walk, but I was anxious not to be too late - even though the hairdresser knew what had happened and reassured me to get there in my own time.

However, after returning home I was spent. Just needed to lay down. And take the next day off work. And, in total, was signed off for three weeks. This conveniently coincided with the Paralympics, which, just as much as - if not more than - the Olympics should have inspired me to bike riding. 

Meanwhile, I had a referral to a fibro clinic at Guy's hospital, which was helpful, and included some advice - and a referral to physiotherapy - for Graded Exercise Therapy. The principle of GET is to build up a level of stamina. It goes well with 'pacing' - knowing what you're physically capable of, and not exceeding that.  I suppose I could have gone out cycling in the autumn, but I wanted to get into GET properly. My physio sessions were during the winter. Cold wet windy weather, and snow, are demotivating for bike riding, but so are short days and dark evenings. I joined the gym at work and followed my physio instructions to gradually build up my time on the exercise bike and cross-trainer.

Exercise bikes are a poor substitute for the real thing. It's fundamentally boring being in a gym. We have BBC News Channel, with the sound down and subtitles scrolling. I could plug myself into my mp3 player. But it's boring. It lacks the pleasure of scenery whizzing back. There is no real sensual stimulation - smell, breeze, the bake of the sun. No opportunities for free-wheeling down slopes, and no visual goal to aim for when plodding up 'hills'. The exercise bike is performance, or at least, output driven. Leisure cycling doesn't care how fast you go, let alone how many RPMs and Watts and your heart-rate. Not that heart rate is measured correctly - mine hit 231, albeit after having spotted the Secretary of State (not in the gym). but then, Dr LittleBrother hit 247 on his Garmin.

Also, exercise bikes in low-rent gyms are not designed for women. Or, at least not for women of my height. I have a 'female fit geometry' bike at home - oddly, it's the equivalent of Himself's bike, which doesn't proclaim that it's male fit geometry. Being a woman is seen as bit 'other' 'different' 'odd'. In practice, I have to choose between struggling to reach the handlebars on the upright, or struggling to reach the pedals on the recumbent. The seat on the upright is designed for a male physiology. Women's saddles are very different. Granted, design matters most when you're doing long rides. On the other hand, if a short spin on a fixed bike leads to disproportionate discomfort and pain in the seating area, it's probably not doing much good. 

Useful tips in Female Anatomy and Saddle Discomfort

I had my bike serviced before Easter. then the weather wasn't good. and then I got a cold and cough, and, oh, excuses, and anxiety-induced inertia -which probably warrants a blogpost in itself.

I have bought a gorgeous book called Lost Lanes. The photography alone makes it a must for any discerning coffee table. I was leafing through the words one night recently and began to feel very frustrated. I want to be that person who goes on long all day bike rides. Why shouldn't I? Well, in order to ride long miles you should be reasonably fit. So frustrating to be caught between graded exercise/pacing, and a need and desire for stamina and strength. No point in planning 68 miles around the Isle of Wight without practice!

And so, on Tuesday evening, I left work slightly earlier than normal, and spent half an hour pedalling down to Tooting Common and back. A useful mixture of roads with stupid drivers - amazing how two drivers drove straight at me, (both in 4x4s), one out of sheer aggression, and one too stupid to know you're supposed to look to your right before propelling your car out of a side road. Easy riding along the tarmac, freewheel down the resurfaced path next to the Streatham Hill branch railway, and some moderately challenging riding across hardened mud and up a slight incline alongside the mainline railway. 

That was the easy bit. The hard bit is always  going home. Uphill all the way, and tedious. When I first got the bike, I had to get off and push, so it was a relief not to do so this time. I just felt that I perspired more than I needed to, given the ambient temperature. And, later, my feet were aching too much.

 At least I have now identified I have a footwear problem. In warm weather, I have  - stupidly, it turns out - been wearing light canvas shoes. I did previously wear trainers, but they packed up, and, frankly, who needs trainers? In sterner weather I wear sturdy shoes. But having done a light spin, and yet suffering sore feet for all the next day, I have realised that I need to buy a pair of shoes, either specifically designed for leisure cycling or similar mid-price non-fashion trainers.

Wandle Wanderings Part 1

It's - frighteningly - over four years since we discovered the Wandle Trail. We rode along part of it one gorgeous autumn day back in 2008. Looking at my photo album we didn't visit again until August 2011. We have been on several different parts of the Wandle Trail since.

On those earlier bike trips I took very few photos. Cycling's that. It's nice to stop from time to time, to sip some water, and if you're clever, to take some interesting photos. But, unlike walking, you can't keep stopping and still sensibly call it a bike ride. Major downside of cycling - you miss a lot of the detail.

You may recall that last summer was pretty hideous weather-wise, except for a few days in May, right up until the Olympics, which, like the Paralympics, were endowed with nearly perfect weather. It's because of that that I don't moan about the summer of 2012, although I realise that the weather wasn't helpful - to put it mildly - for people dependent on a fair amount of reasonable weather to earn a living.

But one Sunday in July, the nation rejoiced, as the weather looked bright and dry, and not too hot. So we set out for the Wandle. Oh, what a fun day that was! We started with a row on Wandsworth Common, when Jimmy decided without consulting me that the best way from A-B is the most direct way, irrespective of the volume and stupidity of vehicles and their drivers.We had another row in Earlsfield, and I nearly went home, only slightly pacified by coffee. We never did find St George's Park, the sensible way to start the Wandle Trail if you're not a total completist (a shopping centre lies between there and the Tideway). 

It's impossible to explain the charm of the Wandle. The Northern reaches are unsurprisingly urban and still to some extent industrial. It also challenges my awareness of South London - before long, you're passing Plough Lane and the Wimbledon (greyhound) Stadium, yet 'Wimbledon', eg Wimbledon Park, tennis, and common seem so far from home. And, suddenly you feel that you're in the country! Or, at least Wandle Meadow Nature Park, through the more urban Wandle Park (Colliers Wood), and then you have to deal with the chaos that is Merton High Street.  It was the first decent weekend day for weeks, since before the Diamond Jubilee, by then a long-fading memory. There were few people out along the river, but streams of people flowing to Marks and Spencer and Sainsburys, still known to many South London as 'Savacentre'.

Merton Priory was founded in 1114 by Gilbert Norman, Sheriff of Surrey under Henry I. Former pupils include Nicholas Breakspeare (later, Pope) and Thomas Becket. According to Wikipedia 

In 1236 Henry III held a Parliament at the Priory at which the Statute of Merton was agreed allowing amongst other matters Lords of the Manor to enclose common land...As this was the first recorded statute of the first recorded parliament its real significance is as the starting point for parliamentary democracy

A sad statute. The Wikipedia author may celebrate the birth of Parliamentary Democracy, but all over England, and beyond, we see the destructive effects of the arbitrary enclosure of common land for the use of the rich and privileged - remember, back in 1236, the ordinary working man - let alone women - had no say in the land being stolen from us. This New Statesman article is illuminating about land-ownership, albeith in rather impenetrable prose. I'm sure I have read somewhere that over 70% of land in England is owned by fewere than 100,000 people, many of them inter-related. 

Merton Priory was demolished when Henry VIII dissolved the Monasteries. He used much of the masonry at Nonsuch Palace. 

We cycled on through Morden Hall Park, a rare National Trust property in Greater London. I have mixed feelings. I have an increasing dislike for the National Trust, and, to be honest, Morden Hall is a place of no great interest or historical relevance. But the grounds are expansive and calming. The Rose Garden is a bit underwhelming, and, on balance, the greatest attraction of the park is the River.

Even nicer than Morden Hall Park is Ravensbury Park, a tranquil place with the river as a feature, and plenty of places to sit and think. (Or just think). If we weren't with bikes we could have caught a bus home, or a tram from Mitcham. Slightly tedious to trawl down to Mitcham Junction, but the cricket green is rather pleasant. I've just noticed on the map that there is a Wandle Industrial Museum nearby. This is due to move into Ravensbury Mill this year.

Starting to expand the photo collection at Wandle Way; I promise there will be further - and better illustrated - posts on the Wandle!

Related articles

London: Wandle Industrial Museum

Where Hope Flows

A pre-Olympic trip to Greenwich Park

It seems a very long time ago; indicating what a backlog of blog posts and photos I have to process!

Having occasional use of a car I opened Google Maps and searched for big patches of green not too far from home. I chose Blackheath and Greenwich Park. Not far to go, but, being by car, an unnecessarily long and tedious journey. I think it took us longer just to get through Peckham than it would have done to go by train!

Blackheath was a disappointment. I'm sure I went past it years ago and it seemed huge, but on this occasion it seemed a lot smaller, and even less interesting than Clapham Common. Which is hideously unfair of me. If you had asked me five minutes ago, I'd have given you this long spiel about how it's left desolate because it's a plague pit, eternally contaminated by the countless corpses of plague victims. But Wikipedia seems somewhat dismissive of this, mentioning in passing 

Virtually every part of London has a local tradition about plague pits

More interesting is Greenwich Park. I've been to Greenwich several times by boat, and wandered the streets of the town, and skirted round the Royal Naval College.

At first we strolled around a gated garden, beautifully planted, and designed, no doubt, for tranquil relaxation. That seemed to be the aim of all but one of the parties we encountered. Needless to say, there was one party which used the garden to shout very loudly at their children, ensuring that their voices echoed round the space. (As we left we noticed a sign with the usual 'no music, no cycling, no ball games, dogs on leads' and overheard one mother tell her children, no, we're no going in there, not with your scooters).

 

 

 
 

We strolled through the park and commented on how quiet it was. Hardly a soul around, although in the far distance there were crowds around the Royal Observatory.

We found ourselves at the top of a hill that fell away steeply below. Us, one woman and a dog (on a lead) and another couple and their bicycles. And no one else. I took photos!

The new cable-car from North Greenwich to the Royal Docks was not yet opened, although it was clearly undergoing trial runs.

I was mildly intrigued by this building.

I later found out it was Vanbrugh Castle, perhaps a grander name than its history truly warrants.

The panoramic views from this surprisingly deserted spot were truly amazing.

Canary Wharf

In the foreground Greenwich Power station, a stand-by back-up source for London Underground, and my third power station of the weekend!

We saw the former Millennium Dome, currently known as O_2, although temporarily known as the North Greenwich Arena for the 2012 Games.

Views of the City of London and further afield

Closer at hand were The Old Royal Naval College

and the Greenwich Observatory, famous for being the 'home' of Greenwich Mean Time

Below us, the Boating Lake

and an arena being built in preparation for Olympic and Paralympic Equestrianism

We continued our stroll through the park and encountered Queen Elizabeth's Oak. It dates to the 12th century, and died in the 19th, but remained standing until 1991. Queen Elizabeth I was said to have often taken refreshment whilst relaxing in its shade.

 

We arrived at the Observatory. The immediate surrounds were teeming with people, most of them there just to tick this off their sight-seeing list, few of them courageous enough to venture into the wider park, and many of them desperate to get the photos from this famous viewpoint on their phone cameras.

I basically took the same pictures as before, but from a slightly different angle!

 

I had to laugh at one point, because I was stood on the stairway taking one particular view. It wasn't especially inspired on my part, just logical. Some woman, clearly a tourist, saw me, perhaps noticing that I had a camera that wasn't just a phone and stood right next to me, practically pushing me out of the way, as her face wore that expression of tourists the world over - basically, feeling information overload but scared of missing that one important photograph.

"Excuse me, personal space!" I exclaimed, in one of my more lame/pretentious moments. Nevertheless, she seemed to get the hint and moved away. Good thing, because otherwise I would have kicked her down the steps. Possibly.

It had been pleasant rambling through the park, but I found this area depressing. We walked back down to the Blackheath Gate. We had been hoping to see the Rose Gardens, but they appeared to be shut, in preparation for the Olymics and Paralympics.

I also took a photo of this, which I assumed at the time was specifically horse-related, although I now know they were at most Olympic venues, for checking the ticket-holding public.

We had an interesting journey home, missing the entrance to the A2, driving into a small bus garage, and having to do a turnaround in Homebase. But eventually we got home, although the traffic was crawling bumper-to-bumper through New Cross and Peckham. We ended up with a much-needed pint in one of local, recently refurbished & modernised pubs. We had been meaning to go for ages, and also intending to go back; in fact, just this Friday we planned to call in on the way back from our local firework display. But it was packed tight!

More photos from this trip, and many more as well are in my London photo album

Wombling the Capital Ring

I like the idea of the Capital Ring.

Wikipedia says

A strategic walking route promoted by London's 33 local councils, the Greater London Authority and Transport for London. It is called a "ring" because the route completely encircles inner and central London.

Walk London says

It’s easy to forget just how green London is — this engaging walk offers a chance to savour some of the capital’s most glorious scenery. 15 easily walked sections leave you free to enjoy it all at your own pace.

There are other similar initiatives, such as the  London Outer Orbital Path (LOOP) and the Green Chain Walk. 

We started the Capital Ring in an odd place, Crown Point, partway through Section 4: Crystal Palace to Streatham. That is a great stroll:

...then comes a level stretch through Biggin Wood, one of the few remnants of the Great North Wood. 

A final climb in Norwood Grove leads through beautiful gardens and past the former mansion. A welcome cafe serves refreshments at Rookery Gardens, then you descend Streatham Common.

Done that several times, I don't rate the café. We saw no point in continuing to Streatham Common station for its own sake, so made our own way to  Section 5 at Tooting Bec Gardens. Somehow, we missed the Pumping Station, and then took a short stroll across a tiny corner of the vast Tooting Commons. We missed a sign or took a wrong turn in Balham and ended up in a time-warped pub on the Weir Estate, which, splendidly, was showing unedited a Manchester United v Arsenal match from 1983.

I read a blog that described Streatham to Wimbledon Park as 

I'm gutted that this leg turns out to be one of the least interesting day walks on the whole Capital Ring

so I followed his advice and decided we would recommence the Capital Ring at Section 6

This stretch from Wimbledon Park to Richmond is, however, one of the greatest day walks in the whole of Greater London, and in its entire 6.9 miles it doesn't put a foot wrong. If you only do one day of the Ring, make it this one; it really is something special.

We didn't start well. As we approached Streatham station, I calculated that we would just miss a train and have to wait almost 30 minutes for the next, so we might as well as stay on the Wimbledon-bound bus. In some ways I wasn't wrong. We arrived at Wimbledon station (Underground and Overground) only five or so minutes later than if we had waited for a train. In other ways I was very wrong. A dull tedious trundle down through heavy traffic in Tooting and down to Colliers Wood in increasing stifling conditions. But on arrival at Wimbledon, it is simple enough to get on the District Line and travel one stop to Wimbledon Park.

Wimbledon Park is a delightful suburban park which is worth a half-day visit in its own right. We visited it two years ago and enjoyed a stroll around the Boating Lake and down to the village church. The Capital Ring is designed to take you through just one part of the park and march relentlessly past the the lake, barely pausing to spy the All England Tennis club in the distance.

     

The next part of the route is through suburbia. The curiosity in looking at other people's houses soon fades. There's a limit to the number of times you can say "That building looks grim but they have a lovely view" or "Heck, they must be loaded." Even counting the Ocado vans isn't that much fun. 

 

Eventually the path reaches Putney Heath, which has quite an interesting history, and is a surprisingly wild shrub land, even if it doesn't last very long. You are soon on Wimbledon Common and approaching its famous windmill. There's a nice little museum there, worth passing quarter of an hour. And they sell Wombles, although I was not allowed to buy one. I have already written about the café, which was a disgrace. After that we ploughed on along the Capital Ring route. Unfortunately, our time at Queensmere was ruined by a party of poorly supervised pre-pubescent children. I imagine on a good day that Queensmere is a lovely tranquil place. But a party of schoolboys running wild and loud, watched by schoolgirls brought up to be passive observers, echoes round the arena and makes a restful pause or stroll impossible.

 
We walked across a golf course, which seems tastefully managed. No blot on the landscape, and golfers instructed to give way to walkers. And down through dense woodland. Dense, but not dense enough to muffle the noise of young men playing rugby in the far distance and, again, dominating public spaces to the possible detriment of everyone else not in their domineering demographic. Unpleasant.

 

I am not made for walking, at all, so it was a relief to hit Kingston Vale. This is a necessary but horrible dual carriageway section of the A3 that is very unfriendly to non-motorised road users. I was intrigued by the Pegasus crossing - only recently installed - that allows mounted horse riders to cross from stables at Richmond Park to Wimbledon Common. I was less impressed by the difficulty in finding a bus stop when I was all but fit to drop.

Fortunately, we found a bus, and it took us to Putney, where we found a pub called the Spotted Horse. I was in there about twenty years ago and don't intend to leave it that long before returning again. An extremely nice pub, lovely decor, an excellent choice of drinks - Jimmy had real ale, I had a soft drink designed for discerning adults. And, most importantly, the food was of good quality and good value for money. If I lived nearby I'd be in there a lot.

 

So, the Capital Ring. It's a very good idea in theory. It's there to encourage Londoners to walk. I know many people have got pleasure from doing the entire Ring. 

I enjoy walking, but only up to a point. I can't walk far, and especially not on paving stones and other hard surfaces. If one follows the Ring precisely, you miss out on the glory of the parks it attempts to showcase. This section was supposed to continue into Richmond Park. I have subsequently done my homework and have decided that I would be better off doing the Tamsin trail. I have bought a Cycling Traffic-Free London book - this is from Sustrans, their website contains many walking and cycling books that cover the country. This book includes a cycle tour of Wimbledon common that criss-crosses it and is a day out in itself, rather than simply skimming across one corner, as Capital Ring does.

However, I will use the Capital Ring, London Loop and Green Chain Walk, as well as Walk London's other brands- Jubilee Walkway, Jubilee Greenway, even Lea Valley, and of course the Thames Path - for hints and inspiration, but rather than attempting the journey, I will focus on the featured parks and attractions.

Other people on Capital Ring Section 6

Diamond Geezer

Stephen and Lucy

Angry Beaton

Tim Bertuchi

Kate

Darryl

Wandering Genealogist

Martin Rich