Capital Ring Day 2 (24 February 2007) - Part 2

(c) Wimbledon Park to Richmond

It was possibly not as relaxed a lunch as it could have been; a chill wind blew across the grey, choppy lake whilst a gaggle of greylag geese attempted to steal our sandwiches, first with a group encircling manoeuvre, and then in a series of daring single-goose raids. Black-headed gulls circled overhead, waiting to pick up any scraps left behind by the geese.

Wimbledon Park and its lake are a small remainder of the Capability Brown-designed grounds of Wimbledon Park House. Apart from the lake, any remains of Brown’s vision have been subsumed beneath the modern athletics stadium and golf course, and there wasn’t in fact much to look at. Instead, I was looking forward to seeing another much more famous local attraction; the famous All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, and particularly Centre Court. It looked from the map we might get a decent view, but the club is not visible from the Ring and with time pressing we couldn’t afford to go out of our way to see it. A smattering of green parakeets eased my mild irritation, and Dave eventually made me forget about it with a tale of when he used to come drinking down in Wimbledon.

Instead, a short walk through a residential area (which much be prime B&B territory in Wimbledon fortnight!) led us to the second of Wimbledon’s open spaces – Wimbledon Common, famous as the home of the Wombles. Despite constantly looking around we failed to see any of these fabulous creatures, but then they are notoriously furtive, and perhaps the lack of litter was the best evidence of their existence!

It felt good to get off of tarmac for the first time today, and to walk in the knowledge that there was very little tarmac until Richmond. We strode easily along the gravel path through woods that were strangely devoid of wildlife but busy with dogwalkers and joggers. The crowds peaked as we approached the windmill and tearoom at the centre of the common. Despite the crowds, the windmill feels a million miles away from our chaotic capital. After a quick toilet break we descended a very pleasing path towards the gloomy and lifeless Queens Mere. From here a mix of woodland and golf fairways bought us down towards a rather nice World War I war memorial set in a hedged circle. We were repeatedly passed by runners, and a course steward warned us about deep mud on the wooded path ahead. My boots found it easy going, but Dave and Jim were a bit more cautious in their walking shoes.

When you reach the end of the woods, the Ring turns sharply right. I nearly made a booboo by continuing over a footbridge ahead, but fortunately Jim & Dave spotted the discrete Ring signs just in time. The Ring finally leaves Wimbledon Common by a big footbridge over the A3, from which we were able to watch this busy road being held up for some time by a herd of horseriders returning from the common. We were held up even more by Jim discovering parakeets in a tree on the far side of the footbridge and embarking on a lengthy photographic study of them.

The A3 was a brief, noisy interlude, but we quickly plunged into the grassland of Richmond Park, at around 2.5 miles across the largest park in London. Near the entrance we were warned to look out for alligator teeth, but the only real danger was from the hordes of cars that roam the park, and possibly the occasional angry parakeet. In fact, I’m going to take time out here to rant about the park traffic. Roads run right across the park, and locals appear to use it as a rat run, ruining the tranquillity of this special area. Quite apart from the fact that in London people should be more than able to use the fantastic public transport system to reach the park, why don’t they restrict cars to car parks at the entrances and restrict passage through the park to non-motorised means? Failing that, perhaps a levy of, say, £8 could be levied on those who insist on driving through it? It seems a much more worthwhile cause than reducing traffic in central London... come on Red Ken, sort it out!

Right, rant over. Richmond Park exists purely because Charles I liked hunting, and was too lazy to head out into the countryside and find his prey. He therefore enclosed the area with an 8 mile wall (now a Grad I listed building!) and filled it with a shed load of deer. After much petitioning by locals, he allowed them access via ladders over the wall so that they could collect firewood. It has remained a public park ever since, and there are still more than 600 deer (a fairly even mix of red and fallow). In fact, notices announced that deer numbers had recently increased to the extent that a cull would be necessary over the next few weeks.

It was clearly time for a contest to see who would be the first to spot a deer. Dave thought he had, in a copse up to our left, but after much eyestraining and use of the zoom lens on Jim’s SLR we established that “it must be a tree stump or something”. However, the paucity of Cervidae was short-lived. As we rounded the lower slopes of the amusingly named Spankers Hill Wood and began the gentle descent to Pen Ponds, we were treated to the sight of a herd of 40 rather scruffy red dear to our right. Unfortunately, on our left was another large car park, this one disturbingly in the centre of the park, and apparently rebuilt just a few years ago instead of (as should be the case) being closed. The traffic policies in Richmond Park must lead to a serious questioning of Red Ken’s green policies. Sorry, I’m ranting again.

The earlier sunshine had now vanished behind grey skies and occasional spots of drizzle. The larger-than-their-name-suggests Pen Ponds were a choppy leaden grey, and devoid of the promised waterfowl (other than a platoon of common gulls huddled together for warmth. We had a planned cereal bar break here, but in this weather it was a hurried affair; afterwards we put on a stomp up the slope on the far side of the ponds to get warm again. Here the trail was mercifully distant from the park traffic, and the landscape (described as “rare acid grassland”) was surprisingly wild, apart from the odd hardy perennial birdwatcher hoping for a glimpse of a skylark and sneaking covetous glances at Jim’s huge SLR as we passed.

The trail runs around the edge of Sidmouth Wood, where we saw a smaller but more elegant group of red deer, before returning to traffic-infested parts of the park. Fortunately our dalliance with the roads was this time brief; it veered off around the western side of Pembroke Lodge. The lodge was apparently once the site of the hovel of the park molecatcher, but was than expanded just a little (!!) into the sumptuous gleaming white building we see today, which was grand enough to once host Queen Victoria.

Below the lodge, we (and other walkers) were having some difficulties. The path ran along a steep slope, and was very slippery. As a result, we were slowed to a crawl, but this merely gave us a chance to admire the vista opening to our left. The most eye-catching sight was the stunning red campanile tower of All Saints Church in the foreground; beyond we could see the floodlights of Twickenham. We wondered who was using them, as the England Rugby Team were away in Dublin getting soundly trounced by the Irish.

We were glad to be able to leave this path and head off up the steep but short hill to the right to visit the King Henry VIII mound. This was apparently once a Neolithic long barrow, but has been much altered and extended since to provide one of the key viewpoints in this part of London. Jim and I scrambled up one of the steep sides, as countless folks had clearly done before us, whilst Dave took the more sedate official route around the back. We were delighted to discover a gleaming chrome telescope at the top, which – astonishingly – was free. Set a little way back from the mound was a slightly shorter than usual trig point that Jim was able to ascend with startling alacrity. Dave looked quite shocked!

We descended from the “escarpment” via a wide, muddy and slippery path, to exit Richmond Park opposite the attractive Dysart pub. However, it was getting distinctly dusky, so we scorned the possibility of a nice pint of the local brew and headed down a narrow muddy alley at the side of the pub, which eventually deposited us in Petersham Meadows beside the Thames, and back on significant lengths of tarmac for the first time since entering Wimbledon Common. Gratifyingly the sun chose this moment to awaken from its afternoon siesta, causing a rainbow to arc above the huge Royal Star and Garter home for retired servicemen and women (servicepeople?!) and indicate the possible presence of gold in a mansion further along the hill. The Capital Ring soon came down to join the Thames Path along the riverbank.

Let’s not beat about the bush here, Richmond-on-Thames is posh. The waterfront is a delight, with as trendy a collection of cafés as you’re likely to see anywhere. A strange grotto-like structure on our right turned out to be merely the entrance to a subway. The river was quite clearly tidal, with boats tied up end to end parallel to the banks to avoid them turning and bumping as the tides changed. Richmond bridge ahead was an attractive multi-arched structure, very similar to bridges much further upstream (eg Henley). A series of expensive looking apartment blocks lined the opposite bank (everything in Richmond looks pricey!), but Dave remembered going out drinking there long before the blocks were a glint in the architects eye.

As we neared the end of the walk, we were treated to a heron wading at the edge of the Thames. Unusually for such a timid bird, it didn’t seem too bothered as Jim went down a slipway to take photos of it. We left the Ring next to the White Cross pub, an establishment so threatened by the tidal Thames that it has both high and low tide entrances! It was a half-mile up through pleasant back streets and green spaces to reach Richmond station; the station itself looked repulsive compared to the rest of the town.

Dave was well chuffed; he’d walked 7.5 miles, the most he’d walked in years. Jim and I were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves too; just as with the LOOP there was the feeling that, having reached the western Thames crossing, we’d done half of the route (even though it was only actually about two-fifths). It had been a great walk too; from the huge number of interesting sites within Crystal Palace Park to the almost uninterrupted greenness of the last 7 miles, we’d enjoyed every step of it. And from a personal point of view, my ankle had survived the trip (and, in fact, was now hurting less!) whilst my feet were in a far better condition than after our first day on the Ring. I felt positively chipper! All three of us were looking forward to the next section the next section.