Thames Path Walk from Putney to Hammersmith And Fun Times with Friends

Friday, July 17, 2015:

The Thames Path Walk from Putney to Hammersmith and Fun Times with Friends

            On yet another pre-dawn rising, I awoke to the discovery that the cold that had plagued me for the past three days was history. It left residual signs of a cough behind, but, for the most part, my familiar high-energy levels returned and I was ready to rock and roll. And good job too! For the day promised glorious sunshine and perfect mid-summer temps—read no humidity and the coolest of breezes playing off the river.

Morning Mass at St. Paul’s Cathedral:

            With the sun shining down on High Holborn outside my window, it seemed like the perfect morning to leave Llew at his lie-in and get to St. Paul’s Cathedral for Mass—something I did want to fit in on this trip. By 7.40 am, I climbed into casuals and rode the elevator downstairs. When a No.8 arrived, in a couple of minutes, I hopped right into it, and within five minutes, I was in St. Paul’s Cathedral where I have worshipped at daily Mass on countless occasions. In the little side Chapel, there were just 2 other folks when I arrived and within five minutes. Mass began—said, as it is done apparently every Friday—by the Bishop of London, Richard Chartres, whom I have had the privilege of meeting on a couple of occasions in the past through my friend Bishop Colclough (not that I expected him to remember me at all!).

Still, it felt odd to attend a Mass at which I was one of four members in the congregation. Later on, after Mass began, a couple of black women joined in, but it was a very quiet service indeed although beautifully said by the Bishop. For me, being at Mass in this beloved church, was an opportunity to thank the Lord yet again for the gift of my health and for bringing me again to my most beloved of cities.

              Outside, on the Square, Life raced on as office-goers clutching their coffees, entered corporate buildings to begin their day. I took the bus back for two stops and joined Llew, who had awoken for Brekkie of Sainsbury Fruit and Nut Muesli with Yogurt and coffee. We showered, got dressed and left High Holborn for the Tube ride to Putney Bridge for we were going to mess about on the river. At Putney, which is essentially a part of the city of London although it was once thought of as the countryside, the river takes on a countrified air and the suburbs that embrace its banks are upper crust: Hammersmith, Barnes, Chiswick, Kew, and finally the ritziest of them all, Richmond. The Plan of Action was to get to Putney and then start the stroll along the Thames Path all the way to Richmond—approximately 10 miles. From Richmond, we would take the Tube back home. Llew was game: we both donned comfortable walking shoes, our hats, carried bottles of water and we were off. This was something I had never done before—so I was doubly glad to have Llew’s company and to share the river with him.

Thames Path Walk from Putney to Hammersmith:

            So we Tubed it to Putney and using a local map at the Tube station, found our way to the River Thames. There is a Thames Tow Path on the opposite side but it is not as accessible as the Thames Path which provides for both walkers and cyclists. Although the walk we were roughly following started on the opposite side, we chose to stroll along the bank that passed by Bishop’s Garden and Fulham Palace. If one were to walk on the opposite bank, one would come across a plaque marking the start of the famous annual Oxford VS Cambridge Boat Race.

            As it turned out, we found ourselves walking on one of the loveliest pathways we could have taken. It was asphalted and lined by enormous London plane trees that were probably planted in the 1700s when the Embankments were built—walled and lined with brick to prevent flooding. The trees create marvelous dappled shade as their branches spread their embracing arms out to the sky. In-between each grand plane tree, there were fruit trees that were laden with sweet small stoned fruit that tasted plum-like: a cross between cherries and plums. I put a few dark red ones in my mouth and they were delicious but then because I could not really identify the fruit, I stopped eating—the last thing I wanted was to be poisoned!

Bishop’s Garden:

            Bishop’s Garden is so-called because it borders the property belonging to the Bishops of Fulham who once occupied Fulham Palace which was the official residence of the Bishop of London. We were delighted to find the Garden well-used mainly by toddlers and their mothers who had brought them out to enjoy a particularly fabulous day. There were amusement areas with swings and sliders and see-saws. There were sand pits where kids were hard at work building castles. In one part of the garden, there were fountains and a sand bank so kids could pretend they were at the beach. They could fill their pails with water, wet the sand with it and create more sand pies. The entire operation was a delight to observe. Loads of dogs and their walkers bounded along, there were strollers like us and there were joggers and cyclists. Londoners were making the most of a lovely day and getting some fresh air and exercise in the process.

Fulham Palace:

            As we walked, we noticed Barnes' London Wetland Center on the opposite bank—evident by the lush green plantings that line the Thames Bank. On our side, there was the entrance to Fulham Palace which I had visited a few years ago when my friend Shahnaz and her daughter Azra were in London from Bombay at the same time that I was. We had taken the Tube and buses to get to the Palace entrance. This time, Llew and I walked in through the lovely Tudor Gateways and across the shallow dry moat to enter the property. Built in the Tudor period, the old buildings that comprise the Palace are merely a museum today. The gardens are open for the pleasure of passers-by and we stepped in to use the rest rooms as well as take in the two rooms that were once the Library and Drawing Room of the Bishops who had occupied the building. We walked out into the sunshine to enjoy purple wisteria vines climbing the burnt brown Tudor walls. There were lots of opportunities to take pictures in a lovely brick courtyard with its fountain and its urns filled with summer’s hydrangeas.

            Leaving Fulham Palace behind us, we continued along the Thames Path. The banks were soon lined with yuppie blocks of flats with glass panes offering uninhibited views of the river. And what views they were too! In the distance, we could already see the green expanse of ornamental Hammersmith Bridge spanning the river which at low tide had distinct beaches on both sides. There were dozens of crew on the river practicing their oarsmanship. There was also abundant bird life and we saw ducks of every kind. And every so often we heard planes flying low overhead. This made us realize that were definitely on the Heathrow Flight Path and I could quite understand that because I have had dozens of sightings of the Thames’ bridges upon take off or landing into Heathrow and it is always the Thames that provides for me the point of reference I need to enable me to grasp my location. For example, on landing into Heathrow on this trip, from the aircraft I got a brilliant picture of the Chinese Pagoda in an expanse of green and I knew immediately that we were flying over Kew Gardens because I could also see Hammersmith Bridge from above.

            Occasionally, we had to get off the Thames Path and take an interior detour and when we did so, we added more interest to our wandering. For we passed by beautiful Victorian terraced housing with its lovely exterior carved details that I always find fascinating. We also passed by pubs and tea rooms and coffee shops for the area has been taken over by young London professionals who make a pretty buck or two and are looking for close proximity to the city in their accommodation.

Viewing Harrod’s Depository:

But soon we were back on the river and within sighting distance of Hammersmith. On the opposite bank, we saw the famous Harrods’ Depository that was erected in 1894 in the same golden stone that forms the façade of the department store in Knightsbridge. It was built on the site of a candle factory mainly for the benefit of British families returning from long stints of Empire-building who would store their belongings here and live in a temporary Harrods' flat in the back of the Brompton Road store whilst looking for a permanent home in London. The river frontage is a famous Boat Race landmark and since the building has a silhouette and a color similar to the Knightsbridge store, TV viewers are often confused when the commentator announces that the crews are “passing Harrods”. The outer façade of the building has the words 'furniture', 'Harrdos' and 'upholstery' on it and, oftentimes, orders placed at the Knightsbridge store are dispatched directly from this venue.

Lunch at Food Market at Hammersmith:

Once we arrived at Hammersmith Bridge, we decided to go out in search of lunch. We had been walking for two hours and had covered 5 miles with the various detours we had made en route. We decided at this point to cut our plans short and to leave the Thames Path segment from Hammersmith to Richmond for a future visit to London.
We needed to get something to drink as well as lunch and as we walked away from the river and towards the Hammersmith Tube station which also houses a shopping mall, we noticed large numbers of young folk carrying take-away food containers with them and heading for the lawns of the Church of St. Paul at Hammersmith. I inquired of one group of office-goers and he directed me to “a big food market just around the corner”. We dodged traffic around the islands of Hammersmith and found the Food Market in the plaza outside the Kings Mall. As we surveyed the offerings, we were stunned: every kind of takeaway ethnic meal was available. We had a choice of Polish kielbasa sausage on a roll, Jamaican jerk chicken, Argentinian empanadas, Indo-Pak rice and various curries, Chinese noodles, Vietnamese pho, Korean barbecue, German bratwurst, Greek souvlakis—you name it, they had it. We decided to get a large serving of the Mediterranean Mezze Luncheon which had a little bit of everything: Zaatar Chicken flavored with sumac served over couscous with every kind of sauce poured over it: tahini (sesame paste), lebnez (spicy yogurt sauce), cucumber tzasiki, chick peas, a bean salad, olives and pomegranate salad, dolmas (rice stuffed vine leaves). We bought a can of Diet Coke and taking our heavy food offerings with us to the gardens at St. Paul’s Church, we found ourselves a lovely place to picnic on a day that was made for enjoying the sunshine.

Since Hammersmith Mall was so conveniently located, we walked into M&S to do some food shopping as well as into Sainsbury and then laden again with our buys, we took the Tube home to relieve ourselves of the load. Back home, we decided to take a short nap until our next appointments.

Tea at Peter Jones with Roz:

            I had not yet met one of my closest London friends Rosemary (whom I know as Roz) yet as she had been busy with a conference she was organizing. It was her suggestion that we meet at the café on the top floor of the famous department store called Peter Jones at Sloan Square in Chelsea as she had about two hours to spare before rushing off to her next appointment. Besides, we had a dinner appointment close by with our friends the Colcloughs who lived on Sloan Street—overall, it was the most convenient venue for a natter, a cup of tea and a scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam and I made the most of it.

            Roz was waiting by the splendid picture windows in the rooftop cafes when we got there. We admired the view for a while taking in the domes and spires of well-known landmarks that seemed near enough to touch. We picked up lovely pots of tea—a most civilized way of serving the beverage and somewhat unknown in the States—and sat down for a long catch up. Time simply flew and with Llew around, a rare appendage, he was a very avid part of the conversation as well. But soon it was time to leave and Roz hightailed it off to her next appointment.

I left Llew on a bench watching shoppers at Sloan Square as I hurried off to Waitrose on The King’s Road for more food supplies to carry back to the US and about half an hour later, the two of us were walking to our next port of call.

Dinner with the Colcloughs:

            We were ringing the bell at Grosvenor Court not too long after and had a lovely and very affectionate reunion with our friends Bishop Michael and his wife Cynthia dressed nattily in a Singaporean sarong kebaya. As Michael had recently recovered from surgery, we asked after his health. They suggested we take a walk in the garden downstairs for their building is one that surrounds Cadogan Square (coincidentally this is exactly the venue in which my American friends the Hardings had once spent several years in London). The gardens were fully laden with blooms and we enjoyed the agapanthus, tall hollyhocks, roses, fragrant bushels of lavender. We passed by the tennis courts and walked beneath the giant spreading trees that give the squares and their gardens so much character in London.

            And then we were back home enjoying wine and a G&T for me and sitting to one of Cynthia’s typically English meals: excellent Shepherd’s Pie with vegetable slaw and for dessert, there was Eton Mess: that interesting English concoction of fresh strawberries, crumbled meringues and cream or ice-cream which we enjoyed with coffee. During the evening, we were joined by the Colclough boys, Edward and Aidan, both up and coming lawyers, and in catching up with them, we had a most interesting time among some of our fondest London friends.

            It was way past 10.30 pm, when we left to walk to Knightsbridge Tube station to return home to High Holborn and at 11. 00 pm, we called it a night. Our stay in London was swiftly drawing to an end and with just one more day and night to go before we departed, we were determined to cram it well with all the things we wished to accomplish.

            Until tomorrow, cheerio!     

Tracy Emin, Fulham Palace, ATGB Locations

Saturday, August 27, 2011
London

As phenomenal as yesterday was in London, today was lousy. I mean, first of all, the weather stank. Intermittent spells of sunshine fought for supremacy over annoyingly brief showers. And when it rained, it poured. After starting my day losing an entire blog post, I rewrote the whole account and delayed myself by a whole hour. The upside was that I was able to enjoy one of mine host Michael's legendary oatmeal breakfasts with the rest of his family--wife Cynthia, sons Edward and Aidan.

Hurricane Irene Barges in:
There was much concern expressed over the possible cancellation of my Virgin Atlantic flight tomorrow as Hurricane Irene brings the entire US east coast to a stand still. I discovered that at NYU, Orientation, for which I was racing back home, has been cancelled. Somewhat relieved at the thought of enjoying an extra day in London, I completely forgot that today is my wedding anniversary, until my husband called from across the pond to wish me!

Discovering Britain's Best-Known Female Artist:
Breakfast consumed, I took a bus to Waterloo Bridge to the Hayward Gallery in hopes of catching the exciting Tracy Emin retrospective that is ending in two days' time. To my astonishment and delight, walk-in tickets were available and I could enter although reciprocal arrangements between the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the Hayward have been suspended for the last three days. I ended up paying 12 pounds--but it was so worth it. I intended to spend no longer than an hour on the exhibition; but to my surprise, three hours later, I was still inside the Hayward.

Although Emin's name was known to me (together with Damien Hirst, she is the UK's best-known contemporary artist), I was totally unfamiliar with her work and was shocked, disturbed and deeply saddened by her oeuvre and the life experiences that gave them birth. Hopelessly raw, alarmingly pessimistic, movingly stark, her world is one of loss and regret and her work is a desperate attempt to regain some of it. Using multi media in the most extraordinary ways, she has woven together the fabric of her life in a fashion that is personal, candid, stark and startling. There are line drawings, oils on canvas, quilts, embroidery, wooden sculpture and other installations, photographs, films, video conversations and props of every conceivable kind, including hospital wrist ID tags and used tampons, to bring to the foreground of her memory those events and circumstances that have dominated and scarred her life. Memorabilia figures emphatically in her work and at the end of the day, it is startling how closely and with what frank scrutiny she has documented every aspect of her life so as to create a composite whole. By the end of the exhibition, I felt I knew this woman intimately and my heart ached for her and the painful loneliness of her world. Never having been to the Hayward which is a part of the Southbank Center, I had planned to visit it on this trip...but I never expected that it was Emin's work that would draw me there and have such a powerful effect on my own psyche.

Lunching at the Festival of Britain:
Despite being deeply overwrought by Emin's work, I managed to make my way after a heavy downpour towards the Royal Festival Hall where the Festival of Britain was in full swing. By 1.00 pm, I reconnected with my friend Shahnaz and her daughter Azra who had also joined me at the Hayward (Azra is a student of Applied Art at the moment at a London School of Design and Shahnaz is a prolific porcelain artist). They too were reeling from the impact of Emin's work and as we went out in search of sustenance, we tasted a few of the samplers being handed out before deciding on a Moroccan concoction: Chicken Harisa served with Tsaziki and a chili sauce over pitta. It was delicious but fiery and with tears streaming down our respective cheeks, we went our separate ways with plans to meet later in the afternoon at Fulham Palace. Shahnaz and Azra went off to run an errand while I hopped into a bus to get to Holland Park where my mission was to identify, explore and photograph the many locations associated with the TV show As Times Goes By. I am a die-hard fan of the series and I had waited one whole year to accomplish this!

A Decision to Detour to Fulham Palace:
But alas, with the Strand under "road works", bus services were disrupted and I found myself walking from Aldwych to Charing Cross where I took the Tube. From Oxford Circus, I took buses again towards Holland Park, but halfway through my adventure, I realized that I would need to abandon my mission. You see, having decided to reconnect with my friends at Fulham Palace near Putney, I realized that I would need to abandon my ATGB mission. Seething with frustration, I found that a big game at the Chelsea Football Club (Chelsea Versus Norwich) had closed down the King's Road and caused a major route diversion. I completely lost my bearings as the bus veered far outside the boundaries of my map! I stayed on the bus that was headed to Putney Bridge and after what seemed like forever, I was in Putney and striding towards the Palace where my friends had reached long before I did. A good fifteen minute walk finally brought me to the Tudor gatehouse of the Palace and into its grounds.

Fulham Palace: Another Huge Disappointment:
If Lambeth Palace awed me, Fulham was a major letdown. Traditionally used as the residence of the Bishops of London (although the current one, Richard Chartres, lives at Dean's Yard near Amen Court, next door to my present home near St. Paul's Cathedral), it was built in the time of the Tudors and added on in the 18th century and Victorian periods. Sitting strategically on the banks of the Thames, it saw occupation by royalty in Tudor and Elizabethan times (both Katherine of Aragon and Elizabeth I lived here at various times). Yet, it has clearly fallen into disuse and been allowed to go to seed. The grounds are unkempt, the gardens are merely a backyard full of ungainly weeds, a few desultory apple, pear and quince trees had thrown a few indifferent windfall fruit to the ground and although I was pleased to spy a perfect apple spared by the birds, there was nothing to impress about this space. Inside, most of the building, including the chapel, was closed for a wedding. We were allowed to peruse three rooms of which none was even remotely interesting. Overall, I was angry that I'd spent such a chunk of the afternoon trying to get there. It is certainly not something I will ever recommend to any visitor.

Operation Judi Dench:
With showers punctuating the evening, I hopped into a bus determined to get to Holland Park to pick up the threads of my ATGB mission while there still was light left to take a few pictures. Luckily, by the time I alighted from the bus (filled with rowdy Chelsea FC supporters--Chelsea had won!), the rain had stopped and the Holland Park area appeared freshly washed and subtly fragranced. I followed the contours of my map and after a slow and seemingly endless trudge north along Addison Road, I found the homesof Jean Pargiter played by Dame Judi Dench and Lionel Hardcastle played by Geoffrey Palmer in the TV show. The terraced home at 21 St. James' Gardens (still sporting its navy blue front door and famous house number) and a few alongside it are clearly used only for location shootings for they seemed inhabited, the blinds in the front rooms pulled firmly down.

Across the street, in pretty St. James' Gardens, stands the picturesque stone church of St. James Norland but, alas, the gates to the private park are open only to residents of the square. I posed for pictures on the famous stoop having pulled in an obliging passer-by to take them! I also found Julie's Bar, the small neighborhood eatery around the corner which features prominently in the series. Having clicked several pictures, I made my exhausted way back to the bus stop and headed for Holborn.

Food Supplies:
I still had food shopping to do for my annual provision supplies and when the bus arrived at Holborn, I nipped into the new Waitrose to pick up a few goodies. By the time I got out and headed to the Sainsbury at Holborn Junction (which used to be a Sainsbury Central but is now a Local), the doors were well and truly shut and a curt notice said, "This store will open at 7 am on Tuesday". Good job I had picked up at least a few items from Waitrose! If Hurricane Irene is shutting down the US northeast Atlantic coast, "August Bank Holiday Weekend" is clearly shutting down the UK.

Back on another bus, I reached Amen Court only to be greeted by Edward who confirmed that my flight had been cancelled. He told me that he had spent most of the evening trying to get me reinstated on a flight to Kennedy departing on Monday for Llew had called me several times during the day to tell me to try to place myself on the manifest. But no such luck. Meanwhile, Cynthia rustled up a dinner of fish cakes for me and over hazelnut yogurt (another one of my favorite treats in the UK) that I could not resist buying, I had myself a good meal. Alas, as a result of all the gum-chewing I have been doing (under medical orders), the sides of my tongue feel sore (while my mouth is still dry!) because a series of abscesses now lines the sides. I could barely eat my dinner so it was just as well that Shahnaz and Azra, feeling too exhausted after our Fulham expedition, had urged me to cancel our reservation at Locanda Locatelli. Oh well, perhaps another time.

I spent most of the evening trying to contact Virgin Atlantic, following the fortunes of Hurricane Irene and getting nowhere (literally). Much as I am delighted to be detained in my favorite city in the world and in a home full of people who love and care for me, I can only imagine how difficult it is for Llew who was so looking forward to my return after three whole months, only to have to wait for an indefinite period!

What a challenging day it had been! As I burrow under the covers, totally knackered, it feels chilly--more autumnal than August. I can only hope that my bonus day tomorrow will be less inconsistent.