Walkie Talkies!

Walkers:  The ALES aka Farty and TB & The POOR - Mrs Provincial

Distance: A very respectable 8.9 miles!

Time taken:  We were out for 6 1/2 hours but that included a long lunch, a visit to the Geffrye Museum, Westland Salvage yard and numerous stops to gaze longingly at yummy menus

Weather:  Cold & dry, but wrapped up warm it was great walking weather

The Uckfield Express lived up to its name today and delivered Mrs P to East Croydon almost on time where by a feat of great planning (or more like good luck), The Ales were waiting for my train at precisely the right spot on the platform.  We then journeyed on to London Bridge where we started the walk at 11am sharp.

Straight over London Bridge, past Monument and towards Leadenhall Market. For those who haven't been, it's beautifully restored and looks a great spot to stop for a coffee, bite to eat or of course a little cheeky glass of something.  TB unfortunately met a very grumpy shoe shine cleaner who didn't feel having his photo taken was part of his remit ... ah, well, we carried on and past the Lloyd's building which is almost next door.  Very modern and non-too attractive, it is known as the Inside Out building as it has all its plumbing and pipes on the outside.  Just like a few people we have come across in the past!

Next stop the 'Walkie Talkie' building - 20 Fenchurch Street.  Mon had been looking online to see about the possibility of going up to the Sky Bar and garden on the roof but it seemed to be booked up.  So we popped in to check find out for ourselves - the very helpful chaps on the reception desk told us that if we came back when it opened at 6pm it was first come first served but we should have no problem getting in.  Now we had an incentive to get back on time!

There is just so much history in the City, almost every corner there is something else of interest.  Just after the Walkie Talkie building is the ancient St Helen's Bishopgate which was bomb damaged not so much during WW2 but by the IRA when they bombed  Baltic Exchange in St Mary's Axe in 1992 and again in 1993.  So much for being Christian ...  Unfortunately we had just missed the chance to visit inside so we carried on, stopping to look at the Grade 1 listed Gibson Hall in Bishopgate www.gibsonhall.com which was the old National Provincial Bank, then Westminster and finally Nat West.  Now a very posh, upmarket venue for various occasions - not for the likes of us sadly!

We saw the Gherkin, the Cheesegrater, and ended up at Bevis Marks Synagogue in Heneage Lane www.bevismarks.org.uk .Unsurprisingly, there was a security guard on the gate who also doubled as cashier as there was a charge for visiting.  We happily paid up as very much wanted to go inside, none of us ever having been inside a synagogue.  The building is Grade 1, simple but very beautiful.  We were fascinated by their displays of numerous and stunning old mantles - couldn't quite work out whether you were meant to wear them or cover some holy items with them!  Farty has duly obliged and informs me that they are for covering your Torah when you put it in the Ark .... well, now you know!

Duly enlightened, we wrap up warm again and carried on towards Devonshire Square where we found this chap - a very imposing statue of a knight on horseback.  Devonshire Place is where the East India Co had its warehouses but it's now full of offices and restaurants and is a lovely spot.  We particularly liked the look of a Lebanese restaurant called Kenza - take away menus collected, something tells me Farty & TB will be back!

We continued up Bishopsgate and over into Spitalfields and Artillery Lane - all very Dickensian with its narrow passageway and houses.  Down Gun Lane and through Spitalfields Market, along Hanbury Street, past the Trumans Brewery and to Brick Lane.  The wonderful aromas emanating from the curry houses made us realise how hungry we were getting - but no hanging around, still more ground to be covered before stopping for lunch!

We walked through Columbia Road where there is a flower market on Sundays - apparently well worth a visit - and through very ordinary residential roads with frighteningly expensive houses, past Hackney city farm and Haggerston Park until we arrived at Broadway Market and LUNCH!  Mon's chosen venue, the Dove, was an excellent choice - not a fancy gastro pub, just an old fashioned pub with good nosh: rather bizarrely the chefs are Thai but very miserable Thais they are too - Thai charm clearly having evaporated somewhere between Bangkok and London!

Well refreshed, we ventured out again and walked down towpath of the Regents Canal, coming off it at Kingsland Road.  Sadly the canal along here is somewhat neglected:  full of rubbish and very oily looking although it hadn't deterred a few coots who were somehow finding enough to eat - yuk, poor them.  We were now in Hoxton - all these areas are mega trendy now - and headed for our next planned venue, The Geffrye www.geffrye-museum.org.uk.   Another excellent find by Mon - how does she know all these places?! Its a wonderful museum in converted almshouses, dedicated to the history of English homes over the past 400 years.  And it's free!  Poor TB probably thought at this point that he would never get Farty and me out again - but we were well behaved and didn't linger too long.  It's a fabulous place to visit, they have rooms from most eras kitted out with original furniture.  Much reminiscing over the sets from the 50s & 60s, it brought back (ghastly?!) memories of the decor of houses we lived in, and those of the ageing relatives that we used to visit.

We continued down Kingland Road and Shoreditch High Street for Mon's next find - Westlands! http://www.westlandlondon.com - Architectural Salvage, but not as we know it out in the Provinces Jim - apparently they are antique specialists.  As they would be in London.   A veritable cornucopia of architectural delights!  It is housed in a converted church and is truly an Aladdin's cave, stuffed full of magnificent fireplaces, chandeliers, furniture, wood panelling and all sorts that you didn't know you needed - until now.  Prices for fireplaces seem to start at about £8,000 ...... possibly a tad out of our range?!!  But no doubt the trendy locals come in their droves ....


Cocktail time was calling by now!  So we walked back towards Liverpool Street and the City to the Walkie Talkie where we only had about a 20 minute wait before they opened the Sky bar www.skygarden.london.  Through security and we were whizzed up to the 34th floor and to the fabulous Sky Garden. The view from up there is just stunning - as is the venue itself.  The gardens are quite wonderful and stretch all the way up two staircases either side of the bar.  We bagged a couple of sofas with a beautiful view and treated ourselves to a very well deserved cocktail - martinis and bellinis all round!  Excellent!

Could have stayed here all evening but the train back to the Provinces beckoned once more for Mrs P so we reluctantly left and walked back to London Bridge.  However, the journey made a lot more bearable after our Sky Garden visit!

I've realised that this blog seems to have gone on for ever - that's the trouble with London walking, there is just so much to see and do and of course I can never condense it into a couple of sentences!  Just be glad that I left a fair bit out ......!

Watch this space for the next ALE/POOR outing.  We would love it if some of your could join us!  There may even be another cocktail at the end .......  Cheers!

Made in Chelsea? No, Rambling in Chelsea!

Walkers:  The ALES plus The POOR - Farty, TB and Mrs P.  ALES being Aborfield London Explorers and POOR being Provincial Odd Occasional Rambler!

Distance: approx 8 1/2 miles

Time taken: as usual, with lunch stops and lots of stopping to look at things, all day!

Weather:  Perfect for walking, cold but bright and sunny, we were well wrapped up

Down in the Provinces the day dawned with a sprinkling of snow, at which point Yours Truly, Mrs P, decided that the omens weren't good as the Uckfield Express had been most definitely not been the Express since New Year - snow would no doubt grind it to a halt.  However, having decided to give it a go, I was amazed when the 09.34 not only ran, but even left on time!  Having bought a Daily Mail for the journey and also to save TB from all the girlie talk over lunch, I found The Uckfield Express splashed all over one of the inside pages!  Its fame has spread far and wide ... and not in a good way.  A little girl had written to the boss to ask if her Daddy could please get home on time to read her a bedtime story - I think most of the passengers on the train knew how she felt!

Arrived at East Croydon to be met by The Ales who had also read the same story in the Metro - Uckfield is now famous! and we set off for Chelsea, making a quick detour to the bus office so I could pick up more copies of Capt Al's new favourite reading material, the London Bus Map!  Having been ably taught by Mon and Martin, there is no stopping him, the only way now is bus.

We walked through Belgravia towards Sloane Square, admiring the beautiful and imposing houses on the way.  All very Upstairs Downstairs!  Farty got a few ideas from the very tasteful and immaculate window boxes and planters - Carshalton you have been warned! - and we marveled at how clean and freshly painted all the houses were.  Clearly the owners do not do it themselves, no doubt a whole army is employed to keep their houses up to scratch.  Not an English army either I suspect!

We arrived at Sloane Square and headed straight for the Arts and Crafts Holy Trinity Church which Farty was keen to visit - and how right she was.  It has a stunning stained glass east window and beautiful brass screenwork either side of the altar.

Back out into the cold and off we headed towards the Royal Hospital to find ourselves a few Pensioners!  We had a wander around, admiring the grounds and had a quick look at the statue of Charles II - it looked very blingy with it's bright shiny brass - has it had a recent polish we wondered? They could have saved themselves a lot of time and trouble by keeping it as it was!  As we headed through the building we spotted a long line of Pensioners headed towards the dining rooms and a nice old chap stopped to chat.  Having found out what was on the menu today (salmon for him!) he then told us about the refurbishment of the rooms.  At the moment they are being housed in Portakabins while the new rooms are being made ready.  Apparently the old rooms were, as he said, less comfortable than a prison cell with shared ablutions, but he was really pleased with the new ones as they were bright, spacious with a small study area and en suite facilities. Long overdue too, it's no less than our brave old boys deserve.

A quick peek into their Chapel and we then found our way out from the gardens and towards Chelsea Bridge.  Over the bridge with great views of the old Battersea Power Station, now in the process of being refurbished and turned into apartments.  Into Battersea Park where we stopped at the Peace Pagoda for a quick look.  Reading the information boards we thought that it was a shame the great message of peace had clearly passed a number of people in this world by - notably those murderous ISIS lot.  Grrrr!

Round the gardens and back towards Albert Bridge which, as Farty says, looks very much like a wedding cake!  Very pretty and girly with its pink paint!  Over the bridge and down the very posh Cheyne Walk for lots more gawping and a search for the house in one of Farty's property mags which is for rent at ....£12k per week!! A bargain!!

By this time our rumbly tums told us lunch was overdue so we headed for a pub Farty had been to before - The Surprise! Expecting it to be quiet as it was past 2 o'clock we were amazed to find it crammed as they were holding a wake for for what must have been a posh funeral - all braying Chelsea voices.  Plates of sandwiches and other goodies on the bar, but we resisted the temptation to funeral-crash and instead found a quiet table out of the way of the braying Chelsea-ites.  Fish and chips all round, very yummy too.

Suitably refreshed we carried on - back down Cheyne Walk and towards Chelsea Old Church where we were met with a cleaner brandishing a feather duster - ooo, scary!  The church is beautiful and we spent some time looking at various plaques of famous local residents, Henry James amongst them.  Out once more into the cold, a quick look at Thomas More's statue, all very topical with Wolfe Hall on the goggle box, and back round the lovely villagey back streets towards the Kings Road and Sloane Square.  In places it was hard to remember that we were bang in the centre of London, the roads were quiet and the houses almost reminscent of Brighton with their pastel colours.  All very pretty - and frighteningly expensive no doubt.

Down the Kings Road which we thought in places was quite tatty - even a Macdonalds, how very un-Chelsea!  Back to Sloane Square where we decided that as the legs felt fine we would carry on walking back to Victoria.  We dived on a train to East Croydon and TB finally got to read the Daily Mail while Farty and I carried on burbling!  Good news though, according to the Mail once you hit 70 salt isn't bad for you (just a few more years to go then!) and a glass of wine a day is positively to be encouraged.  We had to check to make sure they didn't say a bottle a day - sadly they didn't!  Ah well, we'll just carry on regardless.

We'll be back in London again soon for some more urban perambulations - watch this space!

Hope you are all well, see you soon!

Wimbledon, The Crooked Billet

The Crooked Billet

 Walkers: Mrs P, Farty, TB, and me.

Distance: 7.5miles

Found: Tissues and Wimbledon

Time Taken: including lunch, all day!

A streetcar named nostalgia (thank you, Mon) and wombling round Wimbledon.

 Another episode in the occasional series, the Rahras go forth. (urban section or Arborfield London Explorers (ALE))

Croydon Tramlink

It was a beautiful day with gin clear skies, our favourite, as Mrs P and I girded our loins and boarded the Uckfield "Express" to Croydon to meet up with Farty and TB.  This "service" can be unreliable to say the least, and often morphs into a bus ride, but today all went to plan and Farty and TB were waiting for us, and we set off to board a tram to Wimbledon. Mrs P and I are impressed by the tram system, we don't have such things in the provinces, it was quite like being oop north.  I do remember trolley buses around London as a kid though. (Oh god, she's off)

We arrived safely at Wimbledon Station and set off up the High Street.  My, how it had changed.  There was going to be a lot of this today, as I used to live nearby.  The only shop I recognised was Ely's where my mum went shopping on the morning of her wedding with her bridesmaid, as you do.  I think there was a sale on.  

Our first stop was at St. Mary's church, the one you see in the background at Wimbledon tennis.  Farty

had an urge to see the tomb of Sir Joseph Bazalguette, designer of the London sewer system after the "big stink" of 1858.  Farty and TB had a similar problem some years ago after a particularly hot vindaloo.  Sir Joseph was buried in a mausoleum with several relatives - all very grand.  We had a good nose round.  Inside the church was a plaque dedicated to Canon Norman Hook.  This rang a bell with Farty, and sure enough she later discovered he had christened her all those years ago.  (Sorry Mon!)  What a memory, and only 6 months old!  Leaving the church we were now on a road skirting Wimbledon golf course, very exclusive, with des reses, & full of character.  Sadly some of these houses were being bulldozed and replaced by square buildings a la Kevin Mcloud's Grand Designs.  Such a shame. 

We arrived at the entrance to Wimbledon Park itself, (nostalgia alert), where I spent many happy hours on the swings.  Proper swings, you remember, really tall, where you could swing until you were horizontal, and probably fell on to concrete beneath.  Now they're little plastic things with sand underneath.  Pah!  Onwards towards the lake where Farty remembered being brought as a child by her granny, who lived in Wimbledon.  What a coincidence.  We could have been there at the same time.  Come to think of it, I was once pushed in by a little blond girl.......We were close to Southfields where I was brought up.  (Oh oh, memory lane again).  It seemed a shame not to have a look round.  Lots of changes of course, and people of, how shall I put this, a different hue from the 50s and 60s.  There's a big South African contingent living here now, and several biltong shops which Farty, Mrs P, and TB could'nt resist.  Try as I might, I can't get my head, or gob, round biltong.  It looks like the sort of stuff Sir J. Bazulguette would have dealt with.  On into the town, and lo and behold, there was the dentist Farty used to visit.  Around the corner was Sutherland Grove where I grew up, a nice road with plane trees, on one of which Dad measured my sister and me. 

The marks long since gone, probably 20 feet up!  The house itself was transformed with extensions and 2 plastic lions either side of the front door.  OMG!  It doesn't always do to go back.

We about turned and headed for the common.  "Follow me!" I cried, confidently, "I know a short cut!"  Wrong!  Estates seemed to have popped up everywhere.  Quelle shock.  Farty got us back on track, and we stopped off at the Buddhapadipa Buddhist temple. 

In Wimbledon?  Who knew.  It's a fantastically ornate building, and the air was heavy with incense.  Monks drifted about, looking serene.  Maybe it wasn't incense.  Feeling peckish now, we hot footed it on to the Crooked Billet, where my mates and me used to indulge in a bit of underage drinking.  A schoolfriend passed her driving test at 17, and having acquired an ancient Austin 1100, 6 of us would pile in, (no probs, no seat belts), and head for the pub.  Unfortunately the friend had a withered right leg due to polio, and all the controls were around the steering wheel.  Recipe for disaster, especially after a lot of elderflower wine.  Bit sickly really, none of your tequilla slammers back then.  We lived to tell the tale.  We settled down in the warm welcoming pub, which was situated next to some cinque port houses for men over 55.  God knows where the women were.  Probably dead of exhaustion after having 10 kids.  The food was fab.  Pork belly for Farty, and good old fish and chips for the rest of us, with triple cooked chips.  Yum.  It was starting to get dark and a light drizzle was falling, so we made a move.  The Uckfield "Express" waits for no man.  We reached Wimbledon station and boarded the tram.  Ay oop, we'd had a reet champion time!

Apologies, this has turned into All Wend's Yesterdays! I can hear the yawning from here!  xxxxx

Horsted Keynes, Bluebell Railway

Thursday 31st July

Walkers: Mrs P, Sue and Minnie, Mon, TB and me

 

Length of walk: 5 miles

The Tornado whips up a storm.

A welcome return to some Rahra rambling which has been on hold for a while due to mud, elderly parents and general debility!   We met up at West Hoathly car park and set off to the Bluebell Railway crossing near Sharpthorne tunnel in time to see the magnificent Tornado steam past.  Farty had kindly sorted out a timetable of viewing points for us.  We waited expectantly.  We thought we heard a toot but it may have been TB as he had his ear nervously pressed to the track a la Tonto.  He's now sporting what he describes as his ear trumpets and doesn't miss a thing, making it tricky to talk about him.  Other enthusiastic fanatics were there.  If only it had been slightly cooler we could have worn our anoraks.  I stood poised, camera in hand.  "Wend, you're facing the wrong way" said Farty despairingly.  Actually, when the train appeared it was back to front, so that might have worked. We would have preferred full frontal though.

Time for the walk proper to begin, and we set off through glorious countryside, the sun beating down, passing lovely cottages and properties, one with a black horse with rigor mortis in the garden.  Eh?  A very convincing model.  Some road walking was required alongside the Weir Wood reservoir.  All very windy, hilly, and treacherous, with cars whizzing perilously close.  One driver shouted "get off the road!" and got a few two and one fingers.  Don't mess with us!  Luckily we caught up with a school group and followed their rather stern teacher's instructions to "KEEP IN LINE", and "CAR!" The children eyed us warily, having just witnessed our rather unseemly hand gestures.  Were we perhaps escapees from the home for the bewildered?  We thankfully left the road and stopped for refreshments by some huge limestone rocks that you often see in this part of the world.  Mrs. P kindly provided chunks of Alan's birthday cake.  He may not be best pleased when he next revisits the cake tin!  At this point TB needed a lavatree break, and was about to expose all when the school children reappearred.  This would have been the final straw for the poor mites. They were already traumatised by our earlier behaviour, and as Farty said, the last thing they needed was a Rolf Harris moment.  This reminded me that my sister had a Rolf Harris moment years ago at a book signing, when having signed his book, Rolf stood up and kissed her full on the lips!  She was mortified, turned puce and fled.  He just laughed.  Just shows you, his tentacles spread far and wide.  And other things that sound similar.

Time to move on, and we found ourselves in a shady glade where we came upon.......MUD!  NOOO!  I don't mind it as you know.  Mrs. P suffered some sock seepage, though it didn't look particularly mud coloured.  As Farty said, you often don't know you've got the squits until you take your bicycle clips off.  That Roedean education certainly paid off.  Next was quite a steep hill which took us to our next vantage point on the Bluebell to view another train.  TB positioned himself in the middle of the track and received a toot for his recklessness.  We waved at the passengers and they waved back.  We love doing this, I don't know why, it's rather sweet and British!  We were conscious that time was marching on, our table was booked for 1.30, so we cut the walk short slightly.  This is always disappointing for TB and me, but needs must.  We got to the Cat with time to spare, and sank gratefully into chairs outside under an umbrella.  The food here is always good, if a bit pricey, but you get what you pay for.  The fish and chips were excellent, as was Sue's ham egg and chips.  During conversation it transpired that Farty and TB have been invited to Mauritius by their gay neighbour who is about to become High (camp) commissioner there.  Sounds like something from Gilbert and Sullivan. How fab though.  They'll be staying at the official residence and waited on by punkah wallahs.  Those were the days. 

Just time to see the Tornado coming the other way through Sharpthorne Tunnel, this time the right way round, (and me!).  Quite a spectacle, and reminiscent of the Railway Children.  We waved our knickers and truss (I didn't know Farty wore one), and went home tired but happy.

See you all soon, Wend xxx