A Damp Walk

Thames path, London Falling, eavesdropping and an anniversary

On Wednesday I went for a walk along the Thames. In April I signed up to do a sponsored walk for Medical Aid for Palestine. The walk started in the middle of May but as I was on holiday I only started my walking this week. The aim is to walk 186K in six weeks; only 146 kms to go.

I wasn’t really in the mood to walk and the rain didn’t help but I forced myself to go out.

I started my walk in Westminster. As always in that part of London it was heaving with tourists and I had to battle my way through groups of people draped in ponchos as well as wrangling my umbrella which was being blown inside out by the wind.

I decided to walk on the south side of the river so was immediately passing St Thomas’ hospital and the wall covered in red hearts which commemorates the people who died during Covid. When I was in Sydney I walked through Hyde Park which is where the Anzac war memorial is located. There are signs everywhere telling people to respect the area and to refrain from skateboarding around the site. One morning I watched a girl of about 11 cartwheeling in front of the memorial while a woman, who looked like her grandmother, was filming her with a phone. The child was breathless but the grandmother encouraged her to keep going until she got the perfect shot. Sometimes people pose in front of the hearts on the Covid wall while their boyfriends or girlfriends take their photos. I sometimes wonder how people can be so obtuse.

I had only been walking for about 25 minutes when I decided it was time to stop for a coffee and something to eat. I went into the Garden Museum cafe and ordered a flat white and a Fat Rascal*. There were two women sitting close by who had met for an early lunch. They were quite old, small and bird-like and both wearing tailored jackets and speaking in that clipped English accent that only posh elderly people have. Every so often I was able to tune into what they were saying but I only heard snippets:

“...Country House really is very informative…”

“…all this political correctness is ridiculous. One can’t say anything…”

“…it would be dreadful if Andy Burnham became the Prime Minister…”

Much as I enjoyed eavesdropping I had to leave before they had been served lunch. I carried on down the Albert Embankment. On the other side of the river was Tate Britain and just a few metres further along opposite the MI5 building is the block of flats where the boy who features in London Falling fell to his death.

I really like the way Patrick Radden Keefe writes. He has a very spare style and manages to evoke emotion without ever overdoing it. I read this book really quickly but will re-read it.

Between 30 and 50 people die in the Thames every year some accidentally but most by intent. I stood for a little while and looked at the building and the foreshore where the body was found. I know what the view from that building is like, or rather what the view used to be. Prior to the flats being built there was an office block on that site where civil servants from the Department of Environment were based and where I occasionally went to meetings. Today there are hundreds of blocks of luxury flats to be found in areas like Wandsworth and Putney, facing the river and owned and sometimes occupied by very wealthy people. I would highly recommend London Falling if you want to get a sense of how wealth and criminality so closely overlap.

I trudged on towards Battersea. When I was about 15 minutes away I noticed a sign for the Thames path pointing to the left. I assumed it was pointing the wrong way and carried on walking. I did feel a tiny bit anxious that I was going the wrong way even though I was walking right beside the river. I was berating myself for being so silly and law-abiding when suddenly I came to a large hoarding blocking the path. I then had to do a really convoluted trek through a number of streets while trying not to get knocked down by construction traffic.

I finally reached the power station which is a wonderful building but I really dislike everything else about the redevelopment of that site. I have no idea what kind of Londoner would choose to spend time there.

I began to enjoy the walk more as the surroundings became a bit greener. I walked through Battersea Park in the rain and passed through the churchyard of St Mary’s church where a tiny red car was parked. It continued to drizzle. My plan was to walk all the way to Hammersmith but I was getting very tired and when I got to Putney I decided to cross the bridge and walk on the north side of the river as it was a more direct route. Just as I was crossing the bridge a bus turned up and it was going to Hammersmith so I jumped on.

I didn’t know why I felt so gloomy on that walk but then I received a message from one of my sisters on the family WhatsApp reminding us all that it was the anniversary of our father’s death. Memory can play all kinds of tricks on us but at some deeper level it is very difficult to forget dates like these.

*A Fat Rascal is a Yorkshire treat and is like a cross between a scone and a rock cake. When I ordered it I had it in my head that it was something like an Aberdeen buttery which is more like bread than cake but I was wrong.

This is the link to the donor page. Medical Aid for Palestine is a really good charity and any donation, however small, is really welcome.