Autumn Walks

The weather has definitely turned this last week and I've put the heating on for the first time and started wearing a jacket again. Yesterday's walk in particular was one of those drizzly, windy, ones. 

I'm a summer person through and through but there is charm in the autumn, trees look magnificent as their leaves turn bronze and gold and parks are less crowded so you're more likely to see wildlife. Good boots, a raincoat or jacket, a jumper and a philosophical attitude to getting wet (which I realise is mostly because I have good health and enough disposable income to purchase a hot cup of coffee and cake whenever I feel like one) are essential. 

More spectacularly these last two weeks I've seen a lot of deer in Richmond and Bushy Park, although somehow I've completely failed to photograph any of them (and of course it's best not to get too close).  

So instead here are some snaps of low key landmarks around Wimbledon and Hampton taken in typical autumn weather. 

I think this says: 

By Special Appointment to His Majesty The King

William Whiteley 

Fruit Farmer and Manufacturer of Pure Jam, Bottled Fruit,

Marmalades, Pickles, Sauces & Sd (Sundries?)

Soups, Potted Meats, Fish Pastes

Beef Tea, Chicken Broth, Jellies

Curries and Invalid Specialities

 

To Be Read - Leap Day Eve 2020

As I’ve mentioned before there are a lot of unread books already on my shelves and given that and my long history of library fines I normally try to keep the flow of books going out as well as in and not let more stack up.

At the moment however I am the proud possessor of what can only be described as two (count ‘em) TBR piles. So I thought I’d share them while I have them.

On the bottom of that first pile is The Five by Haillie Rubenhold, which I've been keen to read ever since I knew it existed and was lucky enough to get for Christmas. I’ve already dipped in and been instantly intrigued by the two versions of history described. One of course was the glitz of the jubilee, the other a homelessness crisis that has now been largely forgotten. (As an ex history student I can tell you this happens a lot with the past, especially with visual evidence. Almost no-one photographs scaffolding, roadworks, abandoned sleeping bags where someone is clearly sleeping, piles of horse manure, old cola cans and the like. Similarly most fiction and quite a lot of non-fiction is about (and generally by) the comfortably off, so unless you read old newspaper reports, death stats and the literature written by people eager to change what was actually a very hard world you can get a horribly distorted idea of times past).

Next up is the Virago Writers as Readers, which I bought with a Waterstones voucher I got for Christmas. The extremely beautiful cover pulled me in and the first chapter kept me in those toils. It’s not a book I feel I can carry about though, because that cover will get ruined in my bag, and it’s quite heavy to hold in one hand while hanging onto a yellow tube pole with the other. So here it sits, waiting for the next really wet weekend I decide I’d rather stay in. Which I don’t imagine will be far away.  

Above that is My American – Stella Gibbons. This is one I am actually reading already, and although I have started others I will get back to it. Stella Gibbons is famous of course for her cheerfully satirical fantasy Cold Comfort Farm, but this is far more of a straight novel. The story introduces two main characters (Amy and Bob) who meet once, briefly, as children, and then follows their growing up in London and America separately.

So far (I’m 303 pages into a 460 page book) it’s the London story that is grabbing me. It feels as much a portrait of a place and time as of a person. Whereas the American town Gibbons describes feels a bit like Burnet in What Katy Did, only – for a long stretch at least - without the more realised characters and serious illness that sometimes struck the Carrs.

Most noticeable of all is the way everyone keeps mentioning the depression, but there are no symptoms of a depression. No-one who wants a job seems to be struggling to get one. No-one is hungry.  The other troubling thing that’s going on is the rise of the mob, but although his cousin Helen tries to burst Bob’s bubble when he insists his old childhood friend who has been running speakeasies in Detroit and Chicago had never killed anyone, it still feels like it’s not really happening. It's all off stage. 

It’s the same with the two main characters– Amy feels more real. We see her interior world and her worries and her school and the people she lives with. Bob is seen from the outside, and when it starts to go wrong is the first time he seemed interesting to me.

Then there are my Wimbledon library reads:

The Invoice - Jonas Karlsson. This looks like a darkly funny and quirky (I hate that word but it’s the most appropriate I can think of) read.  

Deep Water – Patricia Highsmith. I don’t think I’ve read any Highsmith, but can’t be 100% sure. I read a lot of books in in my teens - detective and science fiction mostly - and completely failed to take note of most of the titles or authors’ names, so every so often I read a plot summary or a first chapter and realise I already know it.

All Passion Spent – Vita Sackville West. Not sure this needs an introduction. I love Sackville-West’s garden writing, was a bit infuriated by her in Portrait of a Marriage (mostly because I felt horribly and inexorably sorry for poor pretty, selfish Violet Trefusis who everyone wanted to protect but nobody wanted to be honest with). I haven’t actually read any of her fiction so I'm curious to see what it's like.

Duplicate Death – Georgette Heyer. I’ve read a few of Heyer’s crime novels and they’re always witty, amusing reads. I haven’t read the regency romances for which she's more famous, although I did start some previously. Both a colleague at work and blogs I enjoy recommended them, and I seem to remember Stephen Fry is a fan, but despite my best efforts something just hasn’t clicked yet.

And on top of this pile is The Language of Cities – Dedjan Sudjic. This is a very easy one for the tube (which is why it’s on top – it was actually in my bag), and was also a voucher purchase from the new Waterstones in Kensington High Street, which I notice has moved closer to the station. I don’t know if the rent is less or they were refurbing anyway and think they’ll get more foot traffic. 

Kensington High Street does seem to be condensing down, and the council have been exploring other things to draw people there besides shops. So there are some quite nice benches with planters, some crossings with Bauhaus names (near the Design museum) and Japanese art (near Japan House), although as with most urban high streets it can never be truly pleasant given that it is, ultimately, a road from one busy place to another busy place.

The second pile is mostly comprised of all these Dark Tower Stephen Kings – I’ve had them ages, and they don’t actually belong to me. I did offer to return them last year when I started my course again and stalled on book 3, and was told it was fine - but they really do need to be read and go back to my brother, who is also meant to be reading them (and has also stalled) and then giving them back to someone at work.

And on top of SK we have Umberto Eco’s Five Moral Pieces which I picked up today from Kensington Central Library. This book of essays was an impulse borrow. I first picked up Deborah Levy’s Things I Don’t Want to Know – a book of essays in response to George Orwell’s Why I Write, and Eco was sitting back to back with it and caught my eye. 

Unfortunately I didn’t get to take the Levy because an alert popped up when I was checking it out and I had to bring it to the desk as someone in Pimlico had reserved it.

And on top of Eco is Allingham's Dancers in Mourning and Ben Aaronovitch’s The October Man, both from Paddington Library. I’m actually not sure if I’ve read the novella or not but I want to make sure before I read False Value - the next full book in the series, which has just come out. 

Arguably that means that False Value is technically on my TBR pile too, even though I don’t have a physical copy yet. And so it goes on..  

I'm not hating it.

I'm conscious that some people - even those who were enjoying it at first - are loathing the weather we're having in the UK at the moment. People are saying they can't sleep and the tube is sweltering and the buses are sweltering (which they absolutely are) and everyone's starting to look a bit frazzled around the edges from how long it's gone on for and summer dresses and sandals are being worn to work by people who probably don't normally even own summer dresses. I have also heard more late night rows at the bus stop outside my flat in the last month than I did the rest of the year.

Also - more distressingly, my cousin has had to have a melanoma removed. I'm fully aware the sun is dangerous.

However, I'm not hating it. I'm not at 'ooh, sunshine, make the most of it' anymore, and I admit that drop of rain we had was light and refreshing, but the heat did not bother me in '76 when I was a tot, and it does not bother me now.

It has been, for me, a good summer. It started with my trip to Spain in May, where the oranges and roses were already out. I then had a very civilised early morning visit to Kew and the newly opened greenhouse with my brother, who is a 'friend' of Kew and can get in the grounds early.

Shortly after that we went to Southsea - and found an interesting maritime church and walked along the sea wall, stumbling across a micro brewery and some kind of fair which was happening (with giant Belgian horses) and found a model village. We used to go to the model village every year at Ramsgate on holiday, so that was a trip down memory lane. 

Shortly after that was a walk through the Surrey hills to an attractively ruined monastery (we found another microbrewery on the way. They seem to be everywhere.)

And a walk along the river round Fulham way, the strong light picking out details I'd normally miss

I was also invited (by my aunt) to The Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, and the exhibition about the exhibition, and later that month I had a visit to the British Library (where I am a member) to see the Cook's voyages exhibition and the one on Windrush voices, and a walk through the Inns of Court

Coffee in the courtyard near St Pauls. This is a lovely space, and we even found a bit of shade. 

The Festival in Hyde Park with Dad. This was in the evening, but there was loads going on all afternoon.

More local walks on Mitcham Common and Morden Hall Park - my cousin's dog there, who is very sensible and flops down in the shade from time to time and guzzles some water. She's a cross breed - part Papillon and I can never remember the other bit. Something with a lot of energy, anyway.

I also went (sans dog) to Southwark Park and had a good wander up to Canada Water. Visited Hyde Park and the small art galleries either side of the Serpentine, queued for the arena on the first night of the Proms; and lastly saw Witness for the Prosecution in the fantastic surroundings of City Hall (with, you can see, a gin and tonic or two.)

Somewhere in all this my aunt was sworn in as a Local Councillor, I've read the next two of Stephen King's Dark Tower series, visited the new Japan cultural centre on Kensington High St, been to the Voice and Vote exhibition at Westminster Palace and resumed the London Loop today. 

So, with all sympathy to anyone suffering, I can't really pretend I'm hating it. I'm patently not. 

Pett's Wood.
The Latin roughly translates as 'I only count the summer hours'.

Estuary - Rachel Lichtenstein

I wasn't very polite about this book in my last post so I need to qualify it a bit. Once you get well in and leave London behind it's actually fascinating - all the bit through Essex, the interviews with fishermen, the facts about Tilbury and Canvey Island and sunken ships and WW2. The river really comes alive as a place in it's own right.

Only right at the end does the book drop off again, and I wondered if the author (or her editors) felt they needed to keep the London connection in to sell the book. A pity if so.

This is not a photo from the book. It's from my walk on Tuesday through Rainham Marshes.

The ones in the book are black and white and don't do the subject justice at all. 

Trees

Enfield

Chigwell

Kensington

Blue skies...

The Thames at Crossness yesterday - I walked up from Woolwich to within sight of the QEII bridge - and in fact to within 2 miles of the end of the Thames Path, but I'd been out in the sun for three hours, which was enough. There's little shade on the river.

The arch on the right in this picture is the Barking Creek Flood Barrier. The cross bar drops down and blocks the mouth of the creek at high tides. There's seaweed on this stretch of the Thames, although (as you can see) it's not really that wide yet.

I'll be returning to Erith for the last bit of the Thames Path and then winding down the rivers Darent and Cray as part of the London Loop, which my aunt and I picked up again starting today.

No good pictures though - some nice horses and lakes, and the sort of cornfields that make you feel like you're in a Cadbury's flake advert - but also lots of brambles and golf courses, and a cancelled train coming home.

Tramping Round London

My Aunt and I completed the third section - our third section - of the London Loop yesterday. As usual it was a few miles longer than the guidebook claimed, but we've learnt to factor that in.

The London Loop is the wider circular walking path around London - the Capital Ring, which we completed early this year, is the smaller - and performs the similar trick of directing you through green spaces and interesting spots where possible.

We began at Kingston, which is a relatively near and very familiar spot (Kingston was the nearest big town when I lived at home in KT11 - KT being the post office abbreviation for Kingston.) crossed the river and walked through Bushy Park and a Japanese garden I never knew existed, along a winding route next to the River Crane, to eventually end up at Hatton Cross, under the flight path of jumbo jets so close you can almost touch them.

Picking it up at Hatton Cross again we walked to Uxbridge, finishing up with a final stretch along the Grand Union Canal, which I did the length of to Birmingham a couple of years ago (It's a fantastic walk, especially Leamington Spa and Berkhamsted and Birmingham itself) and then before that a strangely well manicured IT park which looked futuristic in the 1960s sense - that is to say, more what architects thought the future would look like than what it actually does - and this after quite a lot of mud on land belonging to Heathrow Airport.

This, really, is the notable feature of the Loop. It's extremely varied. Which doesn't explain why I've chosen to illustrate it using two not at all dissimilar pictures, but they're the prettiest I've taken, and they also have the advantage of being spoiler free.

Because the best walks are those you discover for yourself. There's a nice walk I can take after work via Earls Court and Brompton Cemetery for example, which I've mentioned here before, and another which takes in Gloucester Rd, South Ken, Cheyne Walk and Battersea Park (the key to a good walk is not to go the quickest and most boring route). 

It was while walking on Thursday that I discovered for the first time that Battersea Park has a herb garden and veg patch. 

It was quite late when I took these - hence the lights - and dusk by the time I got to Clapham.

And in other news:

I wasn't at Wembley today, but I had to include this anyway. 

We won.