Part 5 To The Thames Source and back the journey so far

Part 5

Monday 17.10.2011

The day starts well I meet on the railway platform, one of my very best and oldest friends, Geoff, he is on his way to work, which as  he describes is as a street walker, for a gas company that is south of the river, we chat until West-ham then part company, he to asses peoples gas engineering needs, me to drift and wander along the Thames. Now my good friend has retired it October 2013, as I have also done back in May.

Geoffrey enjoying one of his many passions, that of cooking great food

Dorchester Abbey founded in AD 635, pretty old. 

A grey day, sky wise today, as the cloud refuses to spread apart, to allow any blue hue to show through.
Dorchester or at least the by-pass, where the bus drops me, is the start of me putting one foot in front of the other. I thread my way past thatched cottages complete with rose gardens that would look good on the photo of any chocolate box. Past Dorchester Abbey dated at about 635 AD built by the Normans, replacing a Saxon church which dated even earlier. It is well worth a visit inside as is their Museum . But as usual for me the waterways call, I pass on through the village allotment, where it is just throwing up its last burst of colour. Soon frost will strike the blooms that on show, wilting and putting them to sleep for winter.
Already most of the lots have been turned over anew dark, fertile soil, rich with manure waits at rest, until late autumn or coming spring when fresh planting begins. My daughter Sarah has an allotment as well as growing in our garden many vegetables and fruit, they are in constant need of weeding, but worth it for the fresh organic grown food, with taste unsurpassable.

Days lock, looms into site, where I left the waterways last time. At first I set a good pace to ward of the cool air, breathing my own mist clouds, that float around dispersing. All is silent, at peace.

I cross Days Lock, after about quarter of  mile I turn round to stop and admire, off in the distance is a outcrop of hills known as Sinodum Hills or locally as the Wittenham Clumps. A much loved coppice of beech trees crowns the very top of the hill, of which sadly a number have died through disease.
It is believed to have once been a iron aged fort, it holds a prominent high ground, so no doubt would have been a great spot to observe the Berkshire and Oxfordshire lands for friend and foe.

Wittenham Clumps in the distance 

Further along the path I spy on the other bank, another look out post but of a more recent war, hopefully sheep make better use of it than it was intended for.
Funny or not so, as I called the 2nd world war a more recent war when in-fact it has been surpassed but numerous wars and conflicts Vietnam, Falklands, The Irish war or The Troubles, Wars in Africa almost too many to list, Iraq, Balkan war, Afghanistan, war on Terror, bloody hell when will we learn to talk? as a sane, intelligent, aware race of beings, but enough sorry to bash you over the head with my thoughts at times but I got'a let them out.

Bunker and boat

Later, to amuse myself, I wondered how far I could walk with my eyes closed? I get to a stretch that went across a meadow so felt safe, as per most of my walks it was absent of other walkers when not close to towns or villages, so no one to think "Who's this bloody loon with his eyes shut?"
I started walking eyes tight shut, keeping the same walking pace as with them open, the first time only twenty seconds had me opening them in fear. I eventually managed sixty seconds, which in the scheme of things is pretty short time to be walking unseeing. Only once, was I just three more strides from plunging into the river, as I un-intentionally,veered from the straight line that I thought I was walking. It was a very odd sensation and took great will to keep my eyes shut even for sixty-second, while walking.

I only did this to test my nerves and to judge if I could still walk a straight line, I had not intended to try and replicate what a permanently blind person has to go through each moment of their lives, but it gave me something to think on. This much I know, that I would not know how I would cope with such an obstacle or obstruction to living my life and to getting around fearlessly.
If the ability to see were to be stripped from me, the loss of seeing the wilderness , smiles, beauty, stars, body language, reading, writing, spring, autumn, winter, I just could not imagine such a loss.

But I know for many, this is their reality. There are many in this world unseeing because of the lack of a few pounds, not anything too major, just clearing up cataracts and such like. According to "Unite For Site"  there are 45 million blind and 135 million visually impaired world wide. Many of these, ridiculous figures, arise from childhood problems of which 70% is preventable, nearly all of these children fall into the category of living in the so called "Third World."

Is each day is a fear filled journey? in some places it must surely be so, but most probably they just get on with it, because that is the way of it. But I can only guess, nay make that know, that they are far braver than I could or would ever want to be. The irony is, this need not be so for many!! So what humane-kind will we do about it?
Stop preaching Michael, you are beginning to sound pompous, get on and do some thing about yourself, leave others to do or not to  do anything themselves! 

Clifton Lock would soon reached even though my left leg at the back was giving my pain down the muscle into the back of my knee, I am guessing this was due to this being the first long walk with boots back on. As all summer and autumn I have been in sandals, bear footed [no socks, if that day were to come bury me deep] or in trainers, socks allowed though.

The Thames had narrowed greatly in parts, as it twist and turns one moment heading west then north swinging west then south then back north, so the wind bites at me but always from at different directions.
I am often, getting a too good a view of Didcot Power Stations cooling towers. I am informed later, that it is fossil fueled as well as the wonderful Nuclear fuel, "Yes but how many thousands of years does it take for the waste to become non lethal?" "Don't get me started."
 I am now heading for Culham Lock and hopefully onto Abingdon on the southern or is it northern side!!

Suddenly a large pheasant shoots out of the shrubbery, just above my head, scarring the bejeesus out of me. It flies up into the grey sky away across over towards a small forest of trees. The farm fields to my right, has all its crops gathered in, leaving only the stubble. This leads across to a row of tall trees in the distance they have begun to shed their leaves. It is a photo opportunity time, with the background of grey cloud and the yellow stalk coloured field, I believe makes a fine photo.

A little further along the path, a wonderful aroma of apple finds its way up my nasal passage. I soon find the reason for this delightful smell. A wild apple tree has dropped its fruit for the year, they cover the floor all around. Either people have walked over them, or wildlife have been feasting on them, which ever way a number of them are squashed or pecked to pulp. Loads more are still in good condition but fearing belly ache I just allow the rich pungent smell to enter my body and leave the rest to the birds and badgers.

some apples still hang on for their lives.

My legs are beginning to tire and ache more, I am trying to work out on my inadequate map, where to get a bus or train. I eventually see a chap walking his dog going the opposite way. He is a fisherman seeking a new spot to cast his line, although he has no gear with him. I ask him about buses. He recommends the best place to get a number of buses, the best being Abingdon two and a half or so more miles on. I thank him saying that will do for me. Be-time I have reached Culham Lock I am actually hobbling, if not limping. The fisherman catches me up having walked back he is heading to his car at the Lock. He says to me.
 “You look in a bad way, like you have had enough.” I explain my theory of wearing boots for the first time this year. He offers me a lift into Abingdon, as that is where he is also headed. I gratefully accept, so here I must say, if I have said anything derogatory about fishermen then there is a least one who is a star.

 I manage to squeeze in with his fishing gear in the front a seat, thats back had given up the ghost so I am sitting, well almost laying, in the back seat. While his dog sits with its drooling tongue inches from my head giving me a curious look as to say,"Whose this, thats bloody well nicked my seat?"
On the drive into town we chat about the Thames [the man and me, not the dog and me] he has walked bits of the path a number of times living locally, but has mainly sat on them casting his maggots and thoughts onto the waters, that go flowing past his feet.

If you have walked the Thames Path do you recognise this? where did I see this, loverly front to someone's house?

He is kind enough to drop me right at the bus terminal at about five p.m, explaining I will have to get a bus first to Oxford for a train to Paddington or the bus to Reading and then a train to Paddington. As my ticket is from Reading I opt for the cheapest way in using my bus pass to get to Oxford first then change buses for Reading, then train from there.
A real arse about face journey, which of course adds at least an hour and half to my traveling  time. I have to change buses at Walingford, it is now pitch dark and is seven thirty before I get the on bus to Reading. I eventually arrive at home in Dagenham at nine-thirty-ish tired, yet pleased. I have enjoyed another day Thames walking.

Monday 7th November 2011

It promised to be a day of difference and lived up to it, I had set of hoping to get off the train at Culham, but the main line train from Reading to Oxford did not stop at the last four small stations, one of them being Culham. So it was it arrived in oxford around 2pm ish. I had already decided on staying overnight at a backpackers hostel but had still hoped to arrive earlier than this. This would mean that have that I would now walk backwards for a change, [not actually walking backwards, although that does have some strange appeal to it, no I mean walking in the opposite direction to which I had been doing so far.]

On leaving the station I headed into the city centre, on route I passed the Back Packers Hostels made quick enquire for a bed for that night, then continued into the centre. I found the tourist information office, they were helpful but had no free maps of the city, the lady gave me directions for the river verbally.

One of the hundreds of Gargoyle's that are dotted around Oxford 

Once out side I saw a man talking to a couple, on his jacket was printed, “Free guided Tour.” I approached them, he was explaining that today’s tour would not take place, due to bad weather and lack of participants. He turned to me and again began his explanation. He was willing to give us a free map of the route he would have taken us on showing the most iconic architecture of Oxford buildings. If you get there and want the free tour I recommend Tom, he seemed a descent chap, his number is 07850 339993, the tours are sponsored by the city but you tip or pay at the end of the tour, what ever you want give, or not if dissatisfied with his walk.
The tour takes in Trinity College, Queens College and many more university's, churches, museums the lot.
 As in way of an apology, also he gave us all a large slab of chocolate fudge, he had purchased from a delightful fudge making shop called "Fudge Kitchen," I was pleased as punch with both of these freebees, easily made happy am I.

I considered the rain and time of day and settled for walking around Oxford for the rest of the day, as it was a place I had wanted to see more of anyway. So with delicious fudge and free map, I set off to explore. It is a most delightful university city the graduates aught to be honoured. It is full of history as well as all mod cons, pubs, clubs, theatre, for the young and not so.
Buildings of grandeur, churches, gargoyles galore, ugly and lovely at the same time, ally-ways and hidden squares, parks and canals, not forgetting father Thames snaking around its waist like a belt keeping it all together.

I took two hours of walking cobbled roadways and paths, found my way to the Thames then back into the centre, sought out places I might eat that evening, then headed to the Oxford Backpackers Hostel. Apparently the grooviest place to stay, at least so their wall murals said!

Showers good, bed durable, people on duty friendly, people staying were a mixture of traveller's, odd balls and probably some of the homeless, young and old.

Night time sleeping erratic due to fellow hostelers retuning a various hours of the night or morning, although not out right noisy, just bloody in-considerate turning on the light, emptying the total contents of their backpack to find a toothbrush or such, all this to awaken some of us, other sixteen sleepers, from trying to be sleep, that were ensconced in the same room. "Ha ho" such is the norm of sharing a room with eighteen other individuals, who are traveling and having fun.

I eventually gave up trying to drift into sleep for the umpteenth time, so got up showered, dressed, packed my rucksack, then returned my pillow case for my five pound deposit [who would run off with a pillowcase?] trying not to think about the fact that they did not ask ne to strip the sheets or quilt cover!! Nor probably the previous beds occupants!!!

I headed for a Giraffe breakfast, no not the highest leaves on a treetop, but the full vegetarian breakfast in the Giraffe café, just superb, and setting me up for the day.

Two pictures above, a pub and a house Thames side Oxford

Which was well needed as it was grey and very wet with a constant drizzle not heavy rain but fine and eventually drenching rain. I set forth along the Thames, in my wet protection jacket on, heading down river for the first time in this part of my walks, of course I had headed down river when traveling east towards the estuary, away from Barrier last winter.
I must admit gravity did not seem to help much, as I walked down river, after all of my complaining about forever waking up hill.

Thames circles Oxford before heading out into the wilds

For all its greyness and rain, it was still delightful walking. After the first two and half miles I stopped at a pub where I enjoyed a pot of hot tea to drive away the damp, rather than a beer. While allowing my gear to drip-dry on their carpet I read a book and observe the other customers, an elderly couple to my left have a most enormous magnifying glass that Sherlock Holmes would have been proud of, to enable them to scrutinise the menu.
During this time the rain outside has given, up thinking it had driven me indoors forever. It thankfully, never returned for the rest of the day, “Hurray.”

Family of four

The rest of the walk was peaceful, the path was muddy and often covered in rain glossed leaves, that the had the wonderful warm autumn colours, as the trees began shedding their summer cloths at last. The sight of birds flitting and sitting upon bear tree branches and giving forth trickles of song was enough to gladden the heart. These songs and a cool breeze, accompanied me on my way.

Along the path I spoke to a couple whome had done the walk about ten years ago, they wished me well in my endeavour, as well as taking my blog site address "Good couple, I am sorry I did not get your names, if you are reading this I hope you are enjoying it, as indeed that all of you, visiting my blog may be doing so."

My newly found dowsing stick and backpack

I found a Y shaped piece of a branch from a willow tree that I decided would do nicely for my “divining, or dowsing stick" to try and find the leyline that runs through this part of the world on its way from Cornwall to Norfolk. So for the next five or six miles I walked while holding this twig out in front of me. I only passed one man coming the opposite way who said to me, “Are you dowsing?” I replied yes then went onto explain about the leylines or energy lines “ Oh, well good luck” he wished me, then carried on his way. I wished I had said "I am looking for the water that flows in the Thames" rather than energy lines, as he would have been just as nonplus as he was anyway, although too polite to say.

Grand boat house reflecting upon itself

A heron in its spying, hunting, tree.

I stopped for lunch, it was yesterdays left over cheese and beetroot sandwiches, still tasteful as ever. I paused to take photos, I stopped to admire a part of the country side or to try and spot a bird as it sang, other than that I strode on or to be more accurate, more often slipped along on, the muddy path holding my twig out front.
No energy pull had my twig fluttering or being drawn downwards in all of the six miles. But at one point I stood in a very delightful spot the trees were beautiful in their russet reds and golds, their cloaks of drying leaves, reflected in the river, rich green and flowing past gurgling and singing its news as it travels east.

where I felt the possible energy ley lines

unknown folly on hillside

 As I approached this place waterfowl were calling from side to side of the river, most hauntingly and beautiful. Then quite suddenly fell into a hushed silence. I stood stock still and in my minds eye, saw both the tip of `Cornwall and Coast of Norfolk joined, zooming past me an energy of streaking light to connect them.

Of course I am able to conjure up the fanciful in my head, so did not hold this to be a great fact of what was! but as more of what I could imagine to be happening, still I do wonder! hey who knows?

Which ever way it gave me a theme for yet another story watch this space, well not this space as it is all ready filled but look out for another space, then again once its filled how will you know it wasn't the space I was referring to?
"Oh sod it let it go!"
I then carried on walking from that peaceful place as i did I thought about ley lines, as well as story lines. It was not getting warmer and there are still a number of miles to go before before arriving at Abbingdon.

Rain polished leaves colour the pathway

I find all manner or nature shining wet after the rain, these colours will soon drain away, the leaves braking down into nutrients for the soil to replenish next years growth. And so the circle of life continues. Seasons follow seasons years follow years, seeds become plants along with sun and rain, they to give fruits to continue the circle. As do humans we have babies that turn into children, who become adults, adults become children again, then to dust.
Is that which was our energy flow some thing that keeps going? does it forever flow, just as the river and the ley lines do, over ground, underground to the seas to the heavens, on the wind, out into nature.
A wave crashes onto the rocks, was the wave energy the water? or a force just using the water as a medium to travel from one place to another? is that us also time travelers moving on in energy form that is sometimes ethereal some times solid?

rain washed berries

A web of diamonds, rain droplets caught on a spiders web

It is in taking time to pause and seek all about us the we can find true meanings in-life's rich tapestry in the, often hidden, beauty that is all around us. Talking of beauty and rebirth, as I type this up I have been watching the Frozen Planet "wow" now thats some program.

The weather stays reasonable as I head on, divining stick out in front. A jogging lady passes me, I ask how far to Abingdon she tells me about half hours walk, she is good to her word. I lay my divining rod down to join other snapped, decaying twigs, not knowing if it did not work or it was me or I did not pass a leyline! so it shall remain a mystery. I end my walk entering the town via the park and old Abbey that has only a few arches left standing in a beautiful landscaped gardens.

I return by bus to Oxford where I find a train to Paddington about to depart. I board just in time and flump down in a seat, having enjoyed my overnight two walk spree, I am speeding home. Winter is closing in days are shorter nights damper and colder, this may sadly be my last walk west to the source for this year. When I do start up possibly next spring 2012, I will try to stick to this two day walks, which will need better planning as well as resources, such as money for instance. I have about 50 miles still to go.

However look out for further additions to my blog and my short stories, thank you for taking time to view my blog. I wish that every hit has been enjoyed and has maybe even been thought provoking, but above all I hope it made you smile at some point.

Take life shake it up, live it, dance it, sing it, but always laugh at it, it is too important not to enjoy. my best regards until next time M. J. London.

  Please see all my other blogs including my eventual walk to the Source in 2013 life is good!