Brighton's West Pier

                                                                 Brighton's West Pier  

                                                                                By M.J. London

Skeletal Skeleton of steel a rusted frame 

Which of many years ago you were not the same 

Then thousands of bright coloured bulbs in dark that gaily shone 

And now of these there are but none, not even one

Weather pounded sea licked and wave kicked you stood 

Wooden slatted boards between which rushing surf was watched 

Laughter, fun, slapping bare children’s feet did swiftly run 

For merriment hands held and palms read we would come

Or to dance the waltz on polished floor 

Casting rod and line into Neptune’s door his deep for us to explore 

Bumper cars crunch and crash voices squeal in delight 

The fizz and smell of electric arching left and right

Slot machines with coins rattle and gush 

Then put them all back in, none to take home, no fuss

Candy floss and toffee apple to bite the tooth 

Laughing sailor in his crazy scary booth 

Ice-cream cornets drip in the sun 

Wind to blow you inside out everyone 

Rain lashed huddled under cover not in deckchair

Her blond hair streaked stuck to her face without a care

Lovers never felt the weather, those cold lips 

Would soon warm with passion or hot chips 

But then two fateful nights put paid to such delights 

Fire raged fire licked fire kicked fire leapt and ran along wooden boards

Blaze took hold burnished the sea in gold 

A thousand gallons and more of sea 

Could not douse that fire once set free

None of that water 

Could stop the slaughter 

Leaving bones of steel to rust and moan 

No more starlings to flock and feather rustle in their zone

The air with its oxygen to do its worst

Sea salt with rust the girders did slowly burst 

Grey leaden sky above crushes down

On the skeleton pier of Brighton Sound

Lapping sea 

Say’s “Come to me.”

As in deed we all shall succumb 

Be you humane, mineral or animal dumb 

Rust or dust its all the same

Until then live your life fully and be not tame

Part 7 at last I restart the Thames Path Walk

                           The Thames Source and Back the final Journey

It has been a most loverly summer in-fact often too hot for walking comfortably, so its not until the late Autumn that I set off again to see how far I can get before the bad weather sets in. I took the trains to Oxford, booked into the Youth Hostel, next to the station then went off to explore the city, yet again and while doing also sorted out bus my routes for the following days walk along the Thames path.                                       

                                         

          

Oxford is a grand University City great buildings, pubs, walks and people.                                                                 

J

Around every corner are architectural beauties to be marveled at. 

I enquired about buses for my next days travel, to get me to the place where I left off on my last walk Autumn 2012, as well as planning my way to bus it back to Oxford at the end of the day, I then headed back to the hostel. I had decided I would cook my own meal for this evening [ okay microwave ] I purchased a macaroni cheese and  tin of beans only to find on opening the beans it had sausages in them now being a vegetarian that was a big no, no. I offered them to some German students [of which the hostel was full of who were on a coach trip around U.K. ] none fancied them, so in the bin they went. After I had eaten I thought I would have some chocolate to fill the baked beans hole, so attempted to get some Maltesers out of a vending machine, the machine is the type that pushes the item to the edge where it tips over and falls down into the tray below for retrieval or not, as in this case. 

  

The two Polish girls on the reception very friendly and helpful said,

 "Yes this often happens we have to get very strong men to shake the machine sorry."

adding, "You could do this if you wish," So to get my paid for and well deserved goods I returned to this 6ft 6inch tall by 3ft wide monster and began bashing its sides, then rocking it back and forth, thus disturbing a once peaceful lobby and reading area, into a battle zone between man and machine, but not disturbing or shifting one iota the chocolates. Never mind waiting for armageddon with "the rise of the machine" it had began here and now, trouble was the machine won and kept my maltesers, but I did get my money back from the girl on reception, out of fear I think of getting a damaged machine while on her watch.

All of this had been witnessed by a group of open mouthed Teachers who were in charge of the students, I explained I was allowed to do this to the vending machine, but fear that much was lost in translation, as my German is not quite as good a my French, which is sound perfect as my family will vouch.

Just maybe if Arnie had been with me I may have got my maltesers back.

Next to bed, luckily only four of us in my room, unluckily two of them were snorers. One in Japanese the other in Hindu, the Japanese was a low snore that eventually stopped. The Hindu man came in late bringing me out of my sleep as he prepared for bed, his head hit the pillow and he was off sleeping in no time, while his nose did an impersonation of the trains that were roaring past the station next door. All this and I was getting up at 6.30 to get an early hostel breakfast and to catch the 8am bus!

 No matter of me coughing out-loud or whistling interrupted his sleep pattern. I just had to stuff my ears with tissues to enable some sleep.

I eventually found sleep only to be found by, what seemed moments later, by my alarm from my phone, and I promise you I did not know my phone would repeat the alarm once I was in the shower, thus possibly disturbing my fellow hostel'ers I rushed out once I recognised the ring to shut it off, but I fear a little late as the others were grumbling and  disturbing now.

Anyway well washed, fed and wide awake I caught the bus to a place called Clanfield which took two bus rides, but still some four miles or so from the Thames, even though the driver dropped me as near as he could. I set off in search of the river, sticking my thumb up if I heard any of the few cars that traveled this road, approaching and low and behold after about a mile of walking a car stopped. Within ten minutes he let me out at the Thames, I was back on route starting at a place called Radcot.

I had planned to head past the last place I finished, at a place called New Bridge, via bus and therefore would head down river towards Oxford again, as this seemed best incase I was late finishing. So I headed for New Bridge going East along the path, where I could catch connecting buses eventually back to Oxford and another  heady night of snores! 

A friend I passed at Rushey lock

Every lock I have passed on my walks have been a delight to sit at, some times to say hallo to boat and barge users. Occasionally there may be lock keepers in residence, while at others they are are quite deserted, most being operated by users themselves on their arrival. The paid staff may have to attend to a number of locks under their care and therefore not at anyone Lock for a great deal of time.

The path way was also bereft of any other persons, not a soul, no fisherman or walker or barge did I see for a good couple of hours walking. I tried, as I normally do that is to work through plots of my novels and short stories, but for some unexplained reason I returned time and again to thoughts of my own demise! i.e what if I had a heart attack in the middle of nowhere how would I tell them, that is if my phone had a signal, where I was?

 This is all bearing in mind that I am of perfectly good health for an ageing old git, with a strong heart and perfect blood pressure. After laughing at myself and knowing full well my girl friend and my daughters knew where I was heading so they could soon collect my body, then collect any remaining monies and debts I have. Such cheerful thoughts soon returned to contemplating the Universe, or what was that I just trod in ? or when shall I eat?

Took this of self to prove I am still alive and kicking 

Came across another man eventually he was also walking the Thames path, only for him to tell me he had been walking for four days to get to here, he admitted he started this side of London, but I thought he was doing incredibly well for all that. He could afford to stay in bed and breakfast establishments, which therefore increased his walking times, as he did not have to allow for getting home or at best to distant towns, for his sleep and rest, as did I. Which is why it had taken me almost four years what it had taken him a week !! to get to the same place. Mind you I had been East as far as Gravesend so he had missed out thirty or forty miles of pathway in his attempt.

reflections from a bridge 

Autumn has not yet got on its coat of many colours, yet it was still a loverly day to be out striding along. The sun even came out a few times, the wind was cool but the air warm when it dropped. I was invigorated not like a bag of chips but with pleasure of being out in the peace of nature, with birds chirping or giving song, wind rushed tree tops, swishing grass, running waters, crowing crows. 

I had made good time, considering this was my first long walk for this year, 2013, it was approximately fifteen miles in all, with detours. Feeling pretty tired I made it to New Bridge just gone to 2.10pm in time to catch the 2.20 bus to Abingdon pretty pleased with myself as the next bus would have been two hours on from then, not a well bused route! From abingdon I could get a bus to Oxford both rides about 45minutes long, around and through some loverly villages and countryside. 

Back in Oxford 

 After a short nap and extremely hot shower to ease the muscles, I went off to investigate more of Oxford. After wondering around I found two pubs opposite each other one The Eagle and Child and the other The Lamb and Flag both pubs were frequented in their days by numerous infamous folk, among them J.R.R.Tolkien who would read out extracts of his, then new novel, Lord of the Rings. Graham Green also drank there as did C. S. Lewis of Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe and more. 

I went in for a couple of pints and to savour, not only the ales, but also the ambience of the renowned pub, I imagined them talking and laughing just like Hobbits and indeed the new intake of university students that now filled the bars and were enjoying warmth friendship and bloody good beer. 

A man sat opposite me in an alcove under the stairs drinking and reading a thick studious book, he snuggled his some what lumpy body into his seat, then with one hand turning pages, he solemnly read. While a finger on his other hand stroked his lower lip, as he seemed in deep thought, at the words that were amassed on the pages and now filtered into his mind. 

The following day, after a night of snoring which I tried to offset by playing my Ipod for a couple of hours was enjoyable for the music but only exhaustion sent me to sleep ignoring all trains sounds from both in and out side my room. Anyway the following day I decided to take a guided tour around some of the beautiful buildings. First a free exhibition on magical books from H.Potter to old tales of warlocks and witches and King Arthur along with Merlin plus many others.

I visited the Bodleian Library one of the oldest in the land dating before 1543 when the reformation began the change of books, when they were not only in Latin but in English. A new extra wing was built on in 1610 to house the added collections of books and so the library grew and is still growing with all publications printed.

But that is not the most important bit about these fine halls of high learning no indeed not what is important is that some of Harry Potters film locations were in these buildings. In the above photo Harry wore his cloak of invisibility to do research as do the students of Oxford Uni.

Below is where the hospital scenes were filmed in H. P.

Beautiful rooms creative art work on walls and ceilings let alone the windows.

I could wonder around these buildings all day but need to head back home so returns to pick up my backpack from the Y.H. then head for the station jumping on a waiting train for London, good timing. Part of my journey I start talking to an American couple who inform me are on their honeymoon on a wonderful rip around Europe on mini cruses around many coastlines I wish them all the happiness for a great future and a most enjoyable trip. They are from Alaska USA so will be quite familiar with any bad weather they may encounter, but for the meantime the sun shines fine. 

My girl friend Anne has found in her mum's loft a pamphlet from the Ramblers Association priced 75p dated Jan 1981 it guides you from Putney to the source 156 miles. It is great little booklet with details about the walk, many of which I have missed yet been so near to! It tells me that beyond Lechlade the towpath ends !! this I am sure is now incorrect since the making of the Thames Path but I shall find out soon enough, I hope, so until then keep trekking or walking and reading, all the best M. J. London 

16th October 2012 

The weather is still holding although today is grey and cloudy, but having made my sandwiches the night before and packed for a nights stop over I headed out into the wet looking weather day. It stayed dry until I boarded the Paddington to Oxford train when it started pouring down, but I was warm and dry inside, for now. I was entertained on my journey by Nigel Slater the Chef and food writer, he did not mean to entertain me, but did so. This was due to the fact the he and a colleague spent the journey, until I left them, opposite me in our carriage, talking Christmas food menu's and inventing new mixtures of foods to put before guests at this coming yule time. Shame I did not jot down some of their ideas but I thought it was rude enough earwigging in on their conversation without nicking their ideas for christmas meals.

When I left the train at Oxford the skies had opened up and was emptying itself upon me and anyone else foolish enough to be out walking. My cagoule just could not hold back the deluge my trousers where also taking a soaking I decide to purchase an umbrella as it seemed to be in for the day. Of course within fifteen minutes of walking the rain ceased and did so for the next four days, not complaining but £36.00 not needed spending, ha ho I now possess a nice brolly, which if I don't loose will last a for a life time. Of course I did loose it once and had to walk back about half a mile to find it laying on the path grrrrr. 

"Oh yes," a great bit thank you to the kind young man, a squaddy, from Brize Norton, who passed me, as I was heading towards the Thames away from Clanfield, with my thumb up, hoping for a lift. He turned around further up the road then returned to me to ask "Was I after a lift?" which I gladly accepted, it was only a short drive, but saved about three miles or more on tarmac, "Thank you good sir."  

As you can see be-time I reached Grafton Lock the sky was blue and sun toasty warm along with a southerly breeze.

 The path was muddy and slippery, the Thames was in good flow, it was great to be back beside Old Father Thames. Apart from the occasional canal boat my only companions were the water foul on the river or birds twittering in the trees and shrubs, that were all still fully clothed with leaves in this mild Autumn.

Sunshine reflecting off the Thames 

 William Morris was a man of many parts, that of an Artist, a Socialist, designer, writer, libertarian, wallpaper and textile designer. I have read his novel "News From Nowhere," a strange impression of a utopia England, but still a fun read.

I came across Kelmscott Manor where William Morris once lived, it was few hundred metres away from the Thames. There is also another home he had and is now a museum at Waltham Forest, that I have visited.

Below this is was built because we did not heed to his outlook of life, it was a pillbox built to face the enemy of the second world war who may have, but never did, invade Blighty thankfully, nature is invading and taking over instead.

Back to the Thames Path saving a visit to Kelmscott house for another day, as  it will require many hours to do it and W. M. justice.

 Two Swans fly in, I meet them closer a little way down the path, one shows his disapproval of me so I move on pretty swiftly.

I find reflection in the River Thames irresistible to photograph. 

 Colours abounds the day is beautiful 

The Thames snakes twisting and turning ever more as I get ever nearer to the source. 

St. Johns Lock is the highest or the first Lock on the Thames [ for me the last as I am walking up stream ]  St. Johns Priory once stood nearby the first bridge being built 1229, lately rebuilt in Victorian times, how time flies.

This stone figure or Father Thames started life living at Crystal Palace, he was purchased by the Conservancy Agency and placed at the Thames Head or source, but was constantly being chipped at for souvenirs, so was moved here for safe keeping at St. Johns Lock.

Slightly boss-eyed and looking grumpy, he gazes on at the flow of his great river that stretches of into the distance.

I can see the spire of St. Lawrence Church on the sky line, I know I am beginning to get nearer to Lechlade my stop over for the night.

Grasses and river contrast delightfully 

My long shadow laying on the grass and almost touching the Thames, the sun begins to dip evening is moving in. 

Bridge into Lechlade at last, for my feet are wet and sore, as my trusty boots have been leaking, for although no more rain the ground is saturated. I am so looking forward to hot shower. 

Below the view from my room at the New Inn pub/ hotel 

After showering for twenty plus minutes, "great" I try to catch the sun set but get a better moon-rise. Wish my lens were better one day I will treat myself to a better one.

Birds flying across the moon as it rises. I finish my walk and return to the New Inn for an adequate meal of omelet  chips and salad at a good price. Beer made up for everything else that fell short of expectations, a great pint. Apart from my room that left quite a lot to be improved upon, but bed clean comfortable and warm. I suffered the room as it was an still improvement on some Hostels I have stayed in, mind you £50.00 for one night with breakfast it should have been half descent. The breakfast for a vegetarian was disappointing, but filling.

Mind you this photo shows my room in a good light I did avoid showing ceiling damp patches and broken tiles, chipped paint and bits of peeling wallpaper. The major enjoyment was pure lack of fellow sleepers who snore as found in shared Hostel rooms! 

Having showered, breakfasted and  packed I stepped once more onto the path.

The gatehouse that lends its name to the bridge once called Halfpenny Bridge as that was the toll to cross over.

Below the church of Inglesham village.

The Roundhouse Farm below is where the Thames flows from one direction while Severn Canal approaches and flows into the Thames. The canal completed  in 1789 from Bristol to London and is part of the Stroudwater Navigation.

It is very sad that from here you have to leave the Thames for at least three miles with a mile and a half you have to walk beside an extremely fast flowing A361 Road, the sound of whizzing cars is both disturbing and noisy. With a steady tread I get this part out of the way as soon as possible. 

Now I understand privacy, but so much of the Thames passes or encroaches upon private properties but does so in a way as not to cause intrusion. Therefore I am much peeved at the way we are forced away from "OUR" Thames and are not allowed to walk the whole path beside it wonderful flowing waters. There that said and out of the way, now back to enjoyment.

Great to see the above surviving, in these days our own personal instant communication! I wonder for how much longer though ?

crops feel the Autumn warmth growing strong.

After getting away from the roads I still have to cross many farm fields, via footpaths, before I find the Thames again. It is however a very pleasant walk, also to give a big "thank you" to the farmers who allow old pathways to be kept and maintained on their land, plus adding a "grateful thank you" to all the volunteers who give time to keeping pathways clear and walkable, two of whom I met today doing a grand job.

Once I reach the Thames it is much depleted in size, it will narrow down as I ever get nearer to the source, it is also often more clogged or overgrown with reeds and overhanging trees and shrubs.

a charming coppice where I had lunch, good old cheese sandwiches 

restful and reflective moment

here the water is shallow enough to wade across

Not far from here I see the distinct flash of blue and gold of a Kingfisher I carry my camera in readiness but it does not re-appear. I walk on enjoying the day, the wind noisily rushing through the tree tops creating a sound of rushing waves on pebbles. Once I have passed the thicket of trees all is silent, at peace, only the soft foot fall of my own feet disturb otherwise total silence. My muscle feel the tension exerted on them as I tread onwards relaxing them where I can. I pass a bed of reeds, the now soft wind blows through their heads  producing a soft hissing sound that is soothing to the ear and the mind.    

holes possibly water voles homes !

Humm, this sign on the gate does not instil confidence. But I surge, watchfully, ahead knowing it will appear over the hill at any moment, do I discard my red cape now or keep it on? Just keep walking I think, all will be well as indeed it was as I exit the field without being gouged with horns or just being chased.

Rain drops on a blade of grass, it is the small things that make it all worthwhile, observing and seeing nature in its wonder, in its rawness, in its beauty, in its everydayness, a feather blown on the wind lays still for a moment awaiting a final destination as is the whole planet spinning in infinite space of course with a life span longer than a feather or ourselves but never the less a life span, so live well, live happily, live in harmony, live with laughter, live every moment.

On my walks I have met a number of fellow walkers, I have always enquired if they are Thames Path Walkers or not. Many have indeed been so, some at the end of their walks some half way through and of course some just starting out, but all enjoying the exercise and being outside in the elements. On this walk I came across a couple from Netherlands who are traveling back and forth to their home, just walk the path at weekends or when they get a few days off work, I and I moan about traveling to Dagenham!! 

I met an elderly chap who lived in Cricklade and was walking his black labrador retriever dog, he asked me,

 "Do you like walking on your own?"

I thought a while then said, "Yes I definitely feel comfortable with myself and enjoy the solitary moments it has allowed."

"So what do you think about?" was his next question.

" Phew, thats it is wide and varied, anything that pops into the grey matter, from story lines, to tunes that just go round and round repeating the same lines, to great philosophical problems of saving the world, to how much further, to why is custard yellow." these and many more thoughts have slipped through the meandering river in my head as I have walked this beautiful Thames.

   

I arrive at Cricklade the end of my journey for the day I will take the bus to Swindon then home by train. I shall return hopefully in a few weeks to finish the whole of my walk, the source is within reach, approximately 12 miles or so from here.

Cricklade Town 

sunset coming into Paddington

4th & 5th November my final walk to the Source of the Thames, it is both with jubilation and much sadness that I have reached my goal of the source. For it was not only the goal, but the journey that validated this effort and made it such a memorable journey to myself. The spreading of my walks over almost four years, did not diminish my enjoyment and pleasure of completing it. I hope you enjoy this last part of my diary/ blog, as I have had in writing it and reproducing my photos taken on my walks.

I took the train to Swindon on the Monday, a glorious day of sun shine arriving too late to start my walk that day but planning to spend it in Swindon, sleeping at a B&B then getting an earlier start on Tuesday. To this end I decided to visit the Steam museum and the National Trust not forgetting English Heritage archives building. Typical I found out that the only day the E.H. was closed to public on Mondays, still that meant longer in the Steam Mus.

Views from the train from Paddington to Swindon.

The Steam Museum below

depicting women at work one using that strange thing called a typewriter to write that sadly disappearing item called a letter, the other is a female engineer working on a locomotive.

Beautiful works of engineering, they makes me almost able to understand train spotting, almost! I said!

Below the rolling stock, this a restaurant or traveling bar carriage, now thats how to travel.

There is also an at the exhibition about where the trains took us and how it spawned the holiday industry in the U.K. Who of you remembers these slot machines that worked for only an old penny a-go ? [ I remember both the old penny and the slot machines from my seaside holiday in the U.K. with much pleasure and sadness.]

these crane machines were infuriating the gift would slip away at the last moment.

Below one of the many posters designed to get us to travel to far of destinations by train.

There is also a large section devoted to Isambard Kingdom Brunnel who amongst many other fabulous engineering structures and builds also built the Great Western Railway. His designs and inventions transformed our world. Many of his buildings and engineering feats are still standing and in full use especially his bridges & tunnels for the railway.

After my stroll around Swindon I caught the bus to my B&B for the night only about twenty minutes from the centre of town. It was comfortable and only five minutes walk to the pub for my tea and beer both enjoyable. I decide on an early night even though I was only setting off after 9.30am.

5th November.

The day started out pouring with rain in the early morning, but as I left to get my first bus into town it stopped and although mostly a grey day with moments of bright sunshine, it did not rain on me all day, in-fact it was perfect walking weather. My second bus set me down in Cricklade at 11am to start my last lap of this journey.

    

And so I step out to enjoy a wonderful day of walking 

The Thames snakes around the edges of Cricklade which I soon leave behind the path way here is very muddy due to the many downpours we have had recently. The wind is light but cool not cold the sun peeps in and out of the grey and white mixed clouds that are racing across the sky.

one of the many loverly cottages I have passed on route 

above some of the more friendly beasts met upon my way who were curious but not aggressive as previous cattle had been!

I love the mixture of colours out there in Autumn.

The above stretch of path was once a railway track 

a low ancient cattle bridge crosses the ever narrowing Thames.

 The Thames twists and turns it widens and narrows it bubbles and flows it breaches its banks and it obeys its guiding rim of mud and grass. The Thames acts in many different ways on any two succeeding days, it changes its colour and clarity along with the weather. It is a marvellous deep, shallow, rough, gentle, safe, dangerous, entrancing, river. 

Above a lake that the Thames appears to run into and out off.

Wild apples decided not to pick and eat like I did the blackberries! 

passing through this village the Thames narrows down to a couple of feet wide, then opens up again further on.

I took this photo for Anne she loves the sketches and drawings that Henry Moore the sculpture and artist did of sheep at his home in Perry Green

 Above bobbing for apples with a difference as they are floating in the river.

Autumn begins to come into its own colour variety everywhere.

The bottom of the river has a more sandy light colour to it from here on towards the source, that and leaf mould covered.

The water being younger in as much as its been part of the river only recently. There's a thought when is it all one river flowing? once a droplet has become part of it or is it like I am asserting made up of many different parts? Not unlike ourselves, each of us are individual yet we are in the one family of humans, maybe each taking different pathways to that, that our ancestors and myself take, but still a common blood line, dating back thousands and thousands of years flowing in one direction, forward.

    Above me trying to look relaxed walking, after running helter-skelter to get off the bridge and onto the path, as the seconds ticked down on my camera to click the lens shutter.

A fairy village, everyone was out, doing mischief no doubt.

Man's intrusion stretching off into the distance, electric pylons, still I would not be here tapping this out were it not for such intrusions !!

wind and river ripples, light in play, catch the moment of each day.

I came across this fine gentleman wading in the Thames mending a dry stone wall at the bottom of his customers garden the water is about 2ft deep and flowing clear.

He told me how only two weeks ago this was almost bone dry, not running at all, only a few meagre puddles. He said that the under water spring or river further up had sprouted early this year, probably because of all the ground water laying in the table. He is a real craftsman proud and enjoying his work even if he had to wade in the river.

This is another fine gentleman I met a hundred yards or so further on, he is one of the many Thames Path volunteer's who looks after the pathway, making sure it is clear and walkable. He has been doing it for some four years now, as sadly being widowed he has time to fill in, but he could not be doing it in a more loverly place. We chatted a while about this and that about how the river was a dry bed here a couple of weeks ago, but now was flowing strong and true. He showed me a map of his territory that he needs to cover, on a regular basis

Joe was a jolly man who was proud of his voluntary efforts, as so he should be, [ Joe please forgive me if I have used the wrong name] but thank you for your fine work on behalf of many, many walkers.

I get Joe to take my photo the Thames sweeping behind me. He tells me I should reach the source today with some effort. He gives me directions and I am on my way again.

Kemble is the last village/ town before the source, is to be found by me and is where I will have to return to to get my train back to Swindon.

Still the river narrows further. I know I will arrive at a point where the bed will be dry for all rivers have to start at some place. I think of the Thames and all the differences I have seen along its banks. I get it into my head, how this part I am getting to is the beginning of Thames not the end, and how from here the Thames grows and not narrows as I am seeing, I am sort of walking back in time.
From the source it constantly grows, with rain drops falling, to fields draining of, or with tributaries running into it from small streams, to large canal systems such as the Seven at Lechlade or the Avon canal & the River Kennet which meets the Thames at Reading, all these and many more rivers help swell the Thames on its passage.

Humanity is a river, for everything feeds into us, everything! Both good and bad deeds, they affect the whole. We must travel carefully in our flow of humanness, our journeys are like a river in direction, but unlike a river we can make conscious decisions on our own route, all be it ever forward. 

 Every drop of drop of water makes the Thames what it is, which is part of everything, a lifeline, a mode of transport, a source of fun and enjoyment for thousands. It feeds bellies it feeds industries it feeds enjoyment it fed the old London docks.

So as humans we have a journey to take that affects many around us, so do so with care, be free, but hurt none in your path while using your freedom. In-fact the opposite we must help others to have their freedom recognised and established.

A glorious sunset begins its descent. I must make my tired feet fleeter if I am to complete before nightfall as I have a more than a few miles still to go!

The river splits into two river beds one still flowing, one dry, it is along the dry bed that the Thames Footpath leads me. The way-arrows point across a number of fields, the ground rising steady I need to cross two busy roads any other walkers be very careful these cars travel at great speed for such small roads.

See the dips that form a long dried river bed, I follow then see in the distance the marker of the end of my walk.

Its hard to believe I am almost within reach.

And yes it is the recognised site of the Thames source at Trewsbury Mead, although it is known that there are many springs feeding the Thames flow, that rise up around this area.

Sorry the light was fading my flash would not pick out the writing either.

184 miles well walked, plus another 40 miles, or more as I walked further east than the Barrier, I went to well past Gravesend. Although as any of you following my blog know it has taken four years to do so!  But every moment  was enjoyed be it in rain or shine, wind or mist.

This is just below the block of granite is this hollow of rocks that looks as though water may bubble out at any moment ! 

I feel as knackered as I look and yet I know I must start out again to retrace my steps and find the rail station at Kemble. I take few more photos, aware the sun is descending fast, then hoist back onto my shoulders my traveling companion, that of my backpack, then step for the last time [maybe or maybe not] onto the Thames Path.

As I get back to the path alongside the water running river, dusk has become night, my eyes have grown accustom to darkening gloom. I can just make out the path through the trees and can hear the trickling burble of the river on my right. It is getting colder but I feel alive, tired, elated, yet alive in the dark. Nature was settling down around me or indeed the night creatures coming into there own. It is another experience being out in the woods in the dark, especially for those of us from cities, it is exciting and scary.

I eventually reach the road which will take me into Kemble. It is pitch black a shadowy figure moves past me in the opposite direction which I think I need to walk. It is a lady I ask am I going the right way for the station she answers yes. So I set off as a car whizzes past me although head lights are blazing he could not see me until it would be too late, I think this is scarier than the dark woods as there is hardly any footpath to walk on.

 On the other side of the road I can make out another figure walking in my direction I catch the shadow up, it is a young man also walking to the station he had missed his bus and is therefore there to guide me. We chat as we walk, he lives at Cheddar Gorge and has been on a days course at the agricultural college to further his career.

At last, very tired, we arrive at Kemble Station for an hours wait in the cold for the next train to Swindon. 

 I wish to say many thanks to a number of people and items firstly all the voluntary helpers of the Thames Path, next the first walkers of the path who took time to work it out and signpost it. To people who have stopped for a chat, for the ticket collector who did not charge me the extra charge, only swopping smiles. To the folk who allow access across their land thank you and to those who will not allow access shame on you. To the bridge builders new and old. To the loverly villages and their pubs.

 Above all to my boots and sandals to my backpack to every muscle in my legs back and shoulders. To my cheese sandwiches and water. To the Thames for being there, for the fields and birds, for the air wind rain and sun.

                                                       For life.

 And just one more thing, I am a great believer of co-incidences and why? this to me is one I think is a little odd or spooky. Before I set out last Monday I was searching for my traveling toothbrush in a small basket of bathroom odds and sods when I came across this.

now it is only a bar of soap but where it came from and how long I have had it in my home I do not know? I honestly have never seen it before. why come across it now? ha ho I like things in life like this, unanswered, but make you question why? little bit spooky! Then again perhaps I do have to much imagination.

 OH yes and  big thank you to YOU for taking time to peruse and maybe even understand some of the guff I have written in my blog, best regards and love to all, M. J. London   

Okay mystery of where the bar of soap came from solved, one of my daughters remembers getting it for christmas when they lived here two years ago, then lost site of it. Which still does not explain why I came across it when I did!?! but I guess thats me all over as I am a conspirator theorist believer. As the new evidence on President Kennedy assassination conspiracy seems to be coming with more truths, but that is another story, which will not come up as clean as soap!! Even if it is as slippery!!

I am afraid that at the moment with severe flooding the Thames path is a very different place to not walk beside at the upper reaches but hopefully we will have a dryer spring from now on, watch this space!!