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Welcome to the “Georgia Wasp…”

This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite. That was an old-time newspaper – more like a personal newsletter – written and published by Harry Golden. Back in the 1950s, people called Harry a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.” (For his work on the Israelite.)

That’s now my goal as well. To be a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.”

For more on the blog-name connection, see the notes below.

In the meantime:

October 8, 2025 – The last post ended on August 8 and added, “tomorrow, Saturday August 9,” I’d meet up with my brother and settle into the apartment he rented across the intersection where Wandsworth Road crosses Queenstown. (And “magically becomes Lavender Hill,” as I wrote after visiting Victoria Battersea pub Friday night, minutes up Queenstown Road.)

I also said it was now a mere three days from the “arduous 134-mile hike from Winchester to Canterbury, carrying all my worldly goods in a 16-pound pack weighing heavily on my back.”

To review further, my companion(s) and I went to the UK to hike that 134-mile Canterbury Trail. And so far I’ve covered my last day in London, then my first day in London, August 6, and most recently the touristy stuff I did in London on August 7 and 8. Those were busy days, and compared to them, August 9th was pretty calm, although it did take a while to meet up with Tom.

I knew his flight arrived at 8:08, so after giving him enough time to get through security and take the Piccadilly Line to Wandsworth, I waited at the Caffe Nero around the corner. (Two doors down from the apartment.) Some time around 10:00 I got a WhatsApp message, “The people at the hotel never heard of you.” It turned out he’d gone to the Chelsea Guest House where I’d stayed the first two nights in London. (I’d booked Chelsea for two nights instead of three, but the switch to the Premier Inn, catty-corner from the apartment, worked out better.)

After exchanging WhatsApps I headed east on Wandsworth. We met up about midway, then hiked back to Lavender Hill and luckily were able to get in the apartment early. That was pretty much it for Friday excitement, except it turned out Carol would try to join us later, somewhere on the hike. (She had some back-home issues to attend to.) Plus Tom was a bit jet-lagged.

Saturday the 10th was busier. We hiked to Wandsworth Road Overground, and took it to the National Maritime Museum and Greenwich Observatory. My verdicts: “The museum was great, and free, but it cost 24 GBP for the observatory.” Then added, on the Observatory: “Not recommended. You get a great view of London from the top of the hill for free. Plus the Greenwich Tavern cost 30 GBP for a draft beer and falafel burger, but that was the cheapest.”

In other words I could have my great view of London in the distance – like at the top of the page – for nothing. In further words I didn’t get to go back to the Gipsy Moth pub in Greenwich that I’d visited last May. And thirdly, an alert to prospective visitors: Prices for pretty much anything in the UK – especially London – are pretty steep. (Still, I enjoyed the two trips.)

One other note about the Maritime Museum. It included a Polar Worlds gallery that I found fascinating. I took a picture of an the Arctic Exploration list of supplies. I noted what it said at the far lower left. “No beer! So I can scratch Arctic Exploration off my Bucket list.”

After those Saturday afternoon adventures we got on the bus, we thought heading back to Wandsworth. But in time I noted that it seemed to be heading east instead of west. We ended up in Blackheath, an “area in Southeast London, straddling the border of the Royal Borough of Greenwich and the London Borough of Lewisham.” (Though it once took its name “either from the color of the soil, or from the bleakness of its situation,” it is now “pleasantly situated on elevated ground, commanding diversified and extensive views of the surrounding country, which is richly cultivated, and abounds with fine scenery.”)

In other words we had a nice visit in Blackheath, before getting the right bus-and-train back.

We decided to go all the way to Clapham Junction instead of getting off at the Wandsworth Overground. We wanted to see how long it took to hike from there to 7a Lavender Hill, so we’d have enough time to make the return trip. Next up? On Monday August 11 we took the train from Clapham Junction down to Winchester station, and there found something reminiscent of Woodstock 1969. The dregs of a young-folk music festival, but that’s a story for next time…

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The upper image is courtesy of View London Greenwich Observatory – Image Results. It came with a post, Best View from Greenwich Observatory, London (Julie Millan), with background information and a number of other “best view” pictures. “From the top of the hill in Greenwich Park just outside the Royal Greenwich Observatory, you will find a fantastic viewpoint of the London skyline. From here you’ll be able to see notable landmarks such as the Shard, the Tower of London, and the O2 Arena.” 

Lavender Hill, London is a “vibrant Victorian street that uniquely blends historical charm and modern urban living. Positioned just south of Battersea and close to Clapham Junction station, Lavender Hill has something for everyone.” (From A Complete Guide to History, etc.)

The lower image is courtesy of Woodstock 1969 Aftermath Images – Image Results. And from a post, Here’s Just How Miserable Woodstock Really Was – BuzzFeed News.

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Re:  The Israelite.  Harry Golden grew up in the Jewish ghetto of New York City, but eventually moved to Charlotte, North Carolina.  Thus the “Carolina Israelite.” I on the other hand am a “classic 74-year-old “WASP” – White Anglo-Saxon Protestant – and live in north Georgia.  Thus the “Georgia Wasp.”    

Anyway, in North Carolina Harry wrote and published the “israelite” from the 1940s through the 1960s.  He was a “cigar-smoking, bourbon-loving raconteur.”  (He told good stories.) That also means if he was around today, the “Israelite would be done as a blog.”  But what made Harry special was his positive outlook on life.  As he got older but didn’t turn sour, like many do today.  He still got a kick out of life.  For more on the blog-name connection, see “Wasp” and/or The blog.

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September 29, 2025 – I’ve written a lot lately about preparing for my last-August 134-mile hike on the Canterbury Trail. More recently I covered my last day in London, after finishing and before flying home. (The technique “starting with the ending and mapping out your screenplay in reverse… This approach ensures your script is tightly focused, structurally sound, and steers clear of plot holes or unresolved threads.”) Then came my first day in London, August 6.

That post talked about the days before meeting up with my hiking companion and taking the train down to Winchester. That first-day post talked about flying into Heathrow airport, then getting to my hotel, the Chelsea Guest House. (After hiking with full pack the four miles down from Paddington Station.) From there I explored the area around Wandsworth and Queenstown Roads. That led me to find The Nott, an unpretentious neighborhood pub “tucked opposite Nine Elms Underground.” There, over the next few days, I went back often enough to “develop a nodding acquaintance with several ‘laid-back locals nursing pints.’ That gave me a warm feeling of home.” This post will tell what else I did during the few days after that.

On Thursday, August 7, I hiked over to the Wandsworth Road Overground Station. (Something I’d never heard of.) Unlike the usual underground Tube, the Overground was more of an above-ground monorail. And provided a great view of southeast London, past Brixton, Peckham and across the Thames. From Wapping Station a seven-minute walk up the Thames Path got me to Prospect of Whitby, an “historic public house on the northern bank of the River Thames.” In the East End, it “lays claim to being on the site of the oldest riverside tavern, dating from around 1520.” For lunch there I had a “Great British Cheese Toastie;” melted cheddar with a “béchamel sauce, in sourdough served with a rocket & pickled red onion side salad and HP brown sauce.”

That was the cheapest thing on the menu, very messy but quite filling. I enjoyed it on the second-floor deck, out where it gave a great sun-lit view of busy Thames boat traffic, and happily sipped my pint of Estrella while trying not to get drippy-melted cheddar all over. (The place was justifiably “highly recommended” by a friend back home.) I scribbled in my pocket notebook that a “Catch as Catch Can” afternoon would follow, as indeed it did.

I took the Number 15 bus intending to go back to Trafalgar Square, but on the way I saw a sign for the Royal Courts of Justice, “on the Strand within the City of Westminster.” As a retired public defender I found it fascinating, “but no photos allowed.” Interesting to me but boring to you, so after that I hiked down the Strand and through the Essex Court Chambers, a “set of barristers’ chambers, specialising in commercial and financial litigation, arbitration, public law and public international law.” I remembered the Strand from Don McLean’s Mountains of Mourne:

You remember young Denny McClaren, of course
But he’s over here working with the rest of the force
I saw him one day as he stood on The Strand
And he stopped all the traffic with a wave of his hand…

After hiking down The Strand I headed over to the Thames Path, then west to Waterloo Bridge. Once across the river I took the 77 bus from Waterloo Station down to Nine Elms. Heading home I stopped at The Nott for a pint and nodded to a now-familiar local or two.

Then came Friday morning, August 8. The first thing I did was move from Chelsea Guest House to the Premier Inn, “638-640 Wandsworth Road, Clapham.” That happened because back home I booked two nights at the Chelsea instead of the three nights I needed. (A foul-up at the “click on dates.”) But it turned out to be a great move. For one thing, unlike Chelsea Guest House, the bathroom had a toilet. (Which came in handy.) And it had a great dining area that included a Happy Hour from 5:00 to 7:00, two beers for nine GBP. (A great price in London.) Plus it was catty-corner from the apartment Tom rented for August 9 and 10, at 7a Lavender Hill. (Next to the Caffe Nero I spent time at and across the intersection from Sainsbury’s Local market.)

Later that day I ended up at The Clarence Whitehall, “An elegant and indeed damn fine traditional British pub with a historic charm. The Clarence embodies all that’s great about British hospitality.” I’d agree with that, or as I wrote in my notebook after finding the place:

Oy vey! A sea of tranquility after going through mobs of flocking tourists. Which is being interpreted… I took the 77 bus up from Wandsworth Road, got off and hiked across Lambeth Bridge and up to Parliament, and the first of the flocking mobs. Crossed into Parliament Square by Westminster Abbey, more mobs, wangled up and over to the back of #10 Downing Street, well guarded, through the gate to where two Horse Guards sat mounted, surrounded by more flocking mobs… And out onto Whitehall. And found Clarence’s pub. From here a hop, skip and jump to Trafalgar Square and more tranquility. The National Gallery or National Portrait Gallery, but for now, back to my London Original and tomato basil soup.

To explain: I took the bus up to Waterloo Station, then crossed Lambeth Bridge to Parliament. “Very disappointing. Closed down and too many dang tourists.” The whole complex was surrounded by chain link fence. From there I hiked past Westminster Abbey; same story, packed with tourists. I headed up to the Churchill War Rooms on Horse Guards Road, then saw on my phone that it cost 33 GBP, so “Hell no!” From there to the big open parade ground that backs onto 10 Downing Street and up past the Household Cavalry Museum, also packed. From there through the gate with two stone-faced Horse Guards – “surrounded by more flocking mobs” – and finally finding that island of tranquility inside The Clarence.

In plain words, London is not a great place to visit in August. It’s too filled with all those “flocking tourists.” (It was much better in May when I did a two-week pre-hike reconnaissance.) One place I remembered fondly from last May was the National Portrait Gallery, so I went back there to calm my nerves. But first I wandered around Piccadilly Circus and saw the Lord Shaftsbury statue, then took pictures of the giant horse statues at the Hard Rock Cafe at the corner of Coventry Street and Haymarker, between the two entrances. Then visited the NPG.

After mellowing out at the National Portrait Gallery – back up past The Strand and across Trafalgar Square – I headed back on the #87 bus to “The Chase (Stop H),” a two minute walk to my Premier Inn. Tomorrow, Saturday August 9, I’d meet up with Tom and settle into the apartment across the intersection with Queenstown Road, where Wandsworth Road magically becomes Lavender Hill. But I’d worked up a thirst, and there lay a problem.

I was now a good half-hour walk from The Nott, much farther away than from Chelsea Guest House. But I’d done my research and seen that a mere 10-minute, half-mile walk up Queenstown Road stood The Victoria Battersea. (A “traditional British pub that has been serving the local community for decades. Known for its warm and inviting atmosphere, it offers patrons a blend of classic pub charm and modern amenities.”) So I decided to check it out.

My verdict? “Trendier, more young people, including lots of ladies, but the beer is more expensive. 7-something compared to 4.90 at The Nott. (Also vegan friendly.) The Nott is more of a true local working-man’s bar, but now farther away.” I noted that I could have ridden there on the bus in 13 minutes for 1.75 GBP, “but there goes your savings on beer.”

Ah, the travails of exploring exotic places and reporting your findings back home. Meanwhile, I was a mere three days from starting that arduous 134-mile hike from Winchester to Canterbury, carrying all my worldly goods in a 16-pound pack weighing heavily on my back.

But also looking ahead to finding more English pubs to review.

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The upper image is courtesy of Prospect Of Whitby Pub – Image Results. The Page caption: “‘The Prospect of Whitby #1’ is a photograph by Raymond Hill which was uploaded on April 22nd, 2021.”

Re: Mountains of Mourne. I edited the lyrics as I remembered from my Don McLean CD, including capitalizing “strand.”

Re: Thames Path, “a long distance walking trail, following England’s best known river for 185.2miles (298 km) as it meanders from its source in the Cotswolds through several rural counties and on into the heart of London. On its way the Trail passes peaceful water meadows rich in wildlife, historic towns and cities and many lovely villages, finishing in Woolwich just a few miles from the sea.” National Trails. (Woolwich is a market town in southeast London, “within the Royal Borough of Greenwich.”) So far I’ve only hiked some of the London sections, but that could change in the future.

The official name for my August 8 lodging was London Clapham hotel – Premier Inn.

The lower image is courtesy of The Victoria Battersea, 166 Queenstown Road – Image Results. See also The Victoria Battersea – Pub in London. THE VICTORIA, London – 166 Queenstown Rd, Battersea adds:

The Victoria in Battersea has remained true to its origins: a community-centered local. The best of real ales and beers, an extensive wine list, cocktails and spirits are complemented by some truly excellent food. We have a large sports following as we have three screens and televise a wide range of sports. On the sporting note we have a games room with a Table Tennis table & Pool table.

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Welcome to the “Georgia Wasp…”

This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite. That was an old-time newspaper – more like a personal newsletter – written and published by Harry Golden. Back in the 1950s, people called Harry a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.” (For his work on the Israelite.)

That’s now my goal as well. To be a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.”

For more on the blog-name connection, see the notes below.

In the meantime:

September 19, 2025 – The last post talked about my last day in London, on August 30. This post will talk about my first day in London, last August 6. (And there were similarities.) Future posts will cover the days I spent exploring the town, then meeting up with my hiking partner, and from there taking a train to Winchester to begin the 134-mile hike on the Canterbury Trail.

And by the way, that’s a well-known screenwriting technique, “starting with the ending and mapping out your screenplay in reverse… This approach ensures your script is tightly focused, structurally sound, and steers clear of plot holes or unresolved threads.”

So: My flight got to Heathrow at 6:30 the morning of August 6. From there I took the Elizabeth Line to Paddington Station. (As it turned out, just a four-minute walk from the Days Inn Hyde Park where I spent my last night in London.) From Paddington I had a choice, just like on that last day in London. Check-in wasn’t until 2:00, which meant seven hours to kill before I could rest my weary jet-lagged head. So, “Do I take the Tube, ride a bus or just hike down?“

As it turned out, before leaving home I couldn’t find a direct bus or Tube route down to Wandsworth Road and the room I’d booked at Chelsea Guest House. (For reasons that should be obvious in a bit.) The guest house was a bit over four miles southeast, across the Thames and on the other side of the Battersea Power Station. (Also, I’d booked the room for two nights at “Chelsea” instead of the three nights I needed, but I’ll cover that later.)

I figured, “Four miles isn’t much, and I’ve certainly got enough time.” So off I went, carrying that 16-pound pack holding all my worldly goods for the remaining three-plus weeks of August.

I headed down The Serpentine, the same park I’d hiked through back on May 8, but on the east side. And found out that east side was blocked with heavy bush-and-brush, so you couldn’t see the lake. So I crossed the Serpentine Bridge to the other side and stopped for coffee and a bite at the Serpentine Lido Cafe, roughly a mile south of Paddington. (And I had time.) That left 3.3 miles, but things continued well as I crossed the Chelsea Bridge over the Thames.

If you check Google Maps you’ll see that after I crossed the Chelsea Bridge I should have turned left on Prince of Wales Road, then right on Stewart’s Road. But remember too that I depend on local pubs for wifi, and there weren’t any around. Also that my memory of Google Maps sometimes fails, like that time in Lyon (France, 2024), when the train from Paris got to Lyon-Part-Dieu first, instead of “Part Une?” In other words I seem to have acquired John Steinbeck’s ability to get lost but not mind too much, knowing that things will eventually work out. “I was born lost and take no pleasure in being found.” (Also, you don’t take a trip, a trip takes you.)

Back to Google Maps on the hike down to and through the area around Battersea Power Station. You can also see there’s a slew of railroad tracks in the area, going off in all directions. And since the powers that be don’t like people walking across those tracks – and getting killed – that meant lots of dead-ends. (Several of which I found and had to back-track from.)

As I found out later it shouldn’t have been that hard, but I’d already hiked three miles from Paddington, plus I was tired from getting no sleep on the red-eye flight over, so I despaired of ever making my way through that labyrinth-maze of going-all-directions-and-blocking-my-way railroad tracks. But in the fullness of time I stumbled on past the Queenstown Road train station and found my way to Silverthorne Road. From there I headed down to Wandsworth Road, where I checked street numbers, then headed east. And still got there way before check-in.

I tried the front door but it didn’t give, and it was well before 2:00. Fortunately there was a McDonald’s right next door. I went there and got some cheap lunch, but unfortunately they didn’t have Wifi. Still, I eventually got in, got checked in, and went through a labyrinth of closed doors inside the Chelsea to get to my room on the second floor. (What they call the first floor in England.) It was nice enough, roomy and airy, however...

However, while the room had a bathroom with shower here was no toilet in the bathroom. There was a shared toilet-and-sink room, but to get to it you had to go through another two sets of doors. It was inconvenient but hardly earth-shattering, plus I was tired and jet-lagged. So I took a nap and later that afternoon checked out the area.

I hiked east on Wandsworth and found the Nine Elms tube station, for possible future reference. Also on the way I passed the Wandsworth Road Overground Station, something I’d never seen or heard anything about. (It seems London Tube-trains run underground like a subway, while Overground tracks run above-ground, like a monorail.) I was so intrigued by the idea that I wrote this in my journal the next day, August 7: “Took the Overhead Line [sic] from Wandsworth to Wapping Station. Then this pub, highly recommended, with views of the Thames. Lunch and a pint, then who knows. A ‘catch as catch can’ afternoon.” But that’s a story for next time, which will include that highly-recommended visit to the Prospect of Whitby pub across the Thames.

Back to late afternoon August 6. Another thing I found on Wandsworth Road, The Nott:

Descending the few steps into this unpretentious pub tucked opposite Nine Elms Underground, one might feel transported to a quintessential British establishment with its worn wooden floors and beer-stained, timeworn charm … enhanced by a community atmosphere of laid-back locals nursing pints alongside a gregarious Irish gentleman who suavely orchestrates the steady hum of hospitality from behind the bar.

Over the next few days I returned to The Nott often enough to develop a nodding acquaintance with several “laid-back locals nursing pints.” That gave me a warm feeling of home…

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The upper image is courtesy of London Battersea Power Station – Image Results.

Re: Screenwriting technique. See Working Backwards in Screenwriting: What It Means and How.

“That time in Lyon?” See More “gang aft aglay” – and luxury in Lyon! And the correct name of “Lyon Part Une” is Lyon-Perrache, the one I expected to reach first.

On Steinbeck, see Travels with Charley Quotes by John Steinbeck – Goodreads. Also, re: Steinbeck on trips. The actual quote is “people don’t take trips. Trips take people.” John Steinbeck – Travel Quote of the Week – Authentic Traveling. As for using the quote repeatedly, you could cut and past “steinbeck trip takes you” in the search engine above right.

The link Monorail Society – What is a Monorail notes that people “often make the assumption that any elevated rail or people-mover is a monorail. This leads to issues attributable to other types of transit systems being attributed to monorails.” Thus the more precise definition: “A single rail serving as a track for passenger or freight vehicles. In most cases rail is elevated, but monorails can also run at grade, below grade or in subway tunnels.”

The lower image is courtesy of The Nott, London, Stockwell – clubs review. (Where the quote came from.) See also The Nott | Trip.com Greater London. And from The Nott – Opening Times, Contacts – Pub in London: “The Nott is a community hub located on busy Wandsworth Road in SW8, just a few minutes’ walk from the Nine Elms tube station… In addition to its main bar area, there is a raised section with pool tables and dart boards for added entertainment value.” The exterior image at left – showing its “timeworn charm” – is courtesy of The Nott Wandsworth Road London Image – Image Results.

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Re:  The Israelite.  Harry Golden grew up in the Jewish ghetto of New York City, but eventually moved to Charlotte, North Carolina.  Thus the “Carolina Israelite.”  I on the other hand am a “classic 73-year-old “WASP” – White Anglo-Saxon Protestant – and live in north Georgia.  Thus the “Georgia Wasp.”    

Anyway, in North Carolina Harry wrote and published the “israelite” from the 1940s through the 1960s.  He was a “cigar-smoking, bourbon-loving raconteur.”  (He told good stories.) That also means if he was around today, the “Israelite would be done as a blog.”  But what made Harry special was his positive outlook on life.  As he got older but didn’t turn sour, like many do today.  He still got a kick out of life.  For more on the blog-name connection, see “Wasp” and/or The blog.

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Welcome to the “Georgia Wasp…”

This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite. That was an old-time newspaper – more like a personal newsletter – written and published by Harry Golden. Back in the 1950s, people called Harry a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.” (For his work on the Israelite.)

That’s now my goal as well. To be a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.”

For more on the blog-name connection, see the notes below.

In the meantime:

Imagine a Saturday night in London. Your last before taking the train to Heathrow next morning. Ending your last full day in England since flying over from Atlanta four weeks before. And what will you tell friends and family about this exciting last night in an exotic across the pond World Capital? To be honest, you’re standing in dreary drizzle, between Paddington and a McDonald’s just across Praed Street. Eating a chicken wrap combo, your cheapest meal in weeks. With fries and Diet Coke perched on one of the three-foot high flat-topped light posts just outside the train-station entrance. But the SJK Hydrotek Rain Jacket keeps you fairly dry.

And you’re remembering. And the memories are mostly good, in hindsight…

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I went through that just over a week ago. (Writing this on September 9, 2025.) My last London evening ended a full and busy last day, August 30. Next day, Sunday, I flew back home. Home from hiking 134 miles in 16 days, from Winchester to Canterbury, the Pilgrims’ Way.

And now it’s time to get back up to speed. Like starting last March I’ve done posts on what I expected to find, including three previews starting on July 21. This post will start telling what really happened. But first, I’m happy to report that my brother, his wife and I finished the trek on Wednesday, August 27. (I took the picture above next day, August 28, after some late-afternoon settling in, showering, a celebratory beer or two – and later doing two days’ laundry.)

I’ll talk more about that in a future post, but back to my last full day in London.

It started early. That Friday night Tom, Carol and I saw the Tina Turner Musical at Aldwych. (As did tons of others, judging from long, shuffling lines at Piccadilly tube station.) Next morning Tom and Carol caught a very early train, down to Paris and Hendaye via the Euro Tunnel. I managed to get a bit more sleep, after 5:30, then – after breakfast at a nearby coffee shop – did a preliminary non-pack hike down Euston Road. (I wanted to make sure I didn’t get lost, like that time in Lyon, France, in 2023 when the train from Paris arrived at Lyon-Part-Dieu first, instead of Lyon “Part Un.” That totally screwed up my careful pre-planned Google paper-mapping.)

Later Saturday morning, at 10:45, I checked out of our California – Kings Cross Hotel.

I’d booked a room for that night at Days Inn Hyde Park, Sussex Park, mostly because it was a four-minute walk from Paddington Station. Check-out time at the California was 11:00, but check-in time at the Day’s Inn was 2:00 p.m. Which raised the question, Should I take a bus, using my Oyster card, or should I walk? Google Maps said the Day’s Inn was two and a half miles southwest, mostly along Euston Road, but then there were some twists and turns.

In the end I walked the whole way. For one thing I had three hours and it was a beautiful, cool near-fall day. For another I had just enough on my Oyster card to get to the airport.

So I walked, and on that hike – with 16-pound pack – I saw something new, dozens of homeless tents on Euston Road. It’s apparently been an ongoing problem, but something I’d never seen before, either the month in August or the earlier two-week visit in May. (Then too in May I was staying in the Canary Wharf section of town.)

From there, down past Regent’s Place, through Park Crescent Garden, the Royal Academy of Music and St Marylebone Parish Church. (Pronounced “Mar-leh-bone.”) Just down from St. Marylebone, just short of Baker Street I came across a statue of Sherlock Holmes. I stopped to take some pictures and since I’d stopped, I had a donut and coffee at the Bagel Factory Baker Street. I’d read there was a Sherlock Holmes museum at 221B, but also that it cost 20 GBP for what reviews said could be covered in 20 minutes. I went up to check and saw what looked like a very touristy museum, then said. “Nah!”

From there I hiked on to what the signs said was Old Marylebone Road, and finally to just past Westminster Magistrate’s Court, where I stumbled on to Sussex Gardens, a street in London also known as the A501. Walking southwest down the sun-dappled Sussex Gardens you see what could be called “Hotel Row.” On each side – separated by a park-like tree-lined median – you see what were once swanky private residences now turned into swanky-on-the-outside hotels. From where Old Marylebone Road magically turns into Sussex Gardens (street), I passed Haven Hotel, London Hotel, Pavilion Hotel, Prime Inn, the Normandie Hotel, not to mention the Wilson House – Imperial College London. Then, finally, it appeared, Day’s Inn Hyde Park.

I got there right about noon, but when I checked the door it was locked. (Check-in not until 2:00?) With hours to kill I went down and turned right on London Street. (Might as well check out Paddington Station, where I’d go in the morning to get to Heathrow.) On the way I found the (Charles) Dickens Tavern,  “25 London Street, Tyburnia, London.”

What to do, what to do?

I ended up lunching “at the Dickens.” Behind the bar, a young Johnny Depp lookalike, but with more piercings, rings and tattoos. With a rakish Van Dyke goatee and all topped with a multi-colored and striped do-rag. Across the bar, he looked up and said, “Nice hat.” Then pointed to one of many tattoos on his right forearm, “LA.” (I’ve been a Dodger fan since 1962.) Having bridged the cultural gap I ordered a pint of Estrella, then sat at a nearby table and pondered the menu. A chicken BLT was the cheapest item on the menu – about 10 GBP – and with that, another pint of Estrella and catching up on my Facebook notes* – 2:00 p.m. rolled around quick. I slid on my pack, walked around the corner and checked in, got a bit settled and took a nap.

About mid-afternoon I awoke, refreshed, then went back to the Dickens for one more pint. I figured I deserved it. “Johnny” was gone but I ordered another pint and settled in the back room. (At lunch the place was empty but by now it was packed, mostly with people watching soccer on the TVs.) I relaxed, fiddling with my phone and watching a little soccer when my LA-tattoo buddy came out a the store room. He stopped, smirked a bit and we bumped fists.

That’s the reason for these pilgrim hikes, to cross international boundaries and mingle with the locals – not hang around with a bunch of all-samey-same American turistas.

That was pretty much the highlight of the afternoon. (That and the well-earned beer.) I went back to my room, made preparations for leaving early next morning and dozed a bit. Toward evening I figured I’d better get some food in me, but didn’t want to pay the equivalent of 13 American dollars. And I’d had enough beer, thank you very much. “Admirable Self-Denial!”

And that’s how I ended up spending my last evening in London, in a dreary drizzle, chomping on a McDonald’s chicken-wrap combo, just across Praed Street near Paddington station, and remembering. And the memories this night were mostly good, in hindsight…

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But enough about my last full day London. I’ll write more later about the pilgrim hike – as I have been wont to do for past Caminos. (Which I define: At the end of each day you look forward to a hot shower, warm bed and a cold beer.) For now I’ll end with one creepy tidbit we came across. It involved our visit to St. James’s Church in Shere on August 17. Here’s what I wrote later that day about the “hole in the wall” we found inside, as explained by a local lady:

It seems one Christine Carpenter wanted to be an Anchorite, dedicating her life to Jesus, by staying in this cubby hole in the wall of the church. The clover-shaped thing on the left was where she could receive communion. The other is where she could watch the church service. Then she changed her mind, but The People wouldn’t let her out. The church lady who related the story said nobody knows whatever happened to poor Christine, who wasn’t allowed to change her mind after that…

Which definitely piqued my interest. I checked Wikipedia, which said that by initially leaving her cell Christina violated her Anchorite vows and so was in danger of excommunication by the Pope. She changed her mind again, but to make sure she didn’t change a third time, when she went back into the cell her doorway was walled up. (See an image in the Notes.)

That church visit creeped me out – think Cask of Amontillado – but made me appreciate. Which I suppose is a benefit of walking hour after hour, mile after mile on a long pilgrim hike. For one thing you get a new appreciation for the freedoms and options back home.

One thing for sure. Leaving Christina’s walled-in Anchorite cell at St. James’s in Shere, I reveled in my rediscovered freedom to “walk free and own no superior.”

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The upper image is courtesy of… Myself. I took the picture the morning after we trudged into Canterbury from Chilham. (See Towns & Villages in Canterbury – Visit South East England, on the town where we spent out last night on the Trail: “Renowned for its beauty and charm, the Kentish village of Chilham lies high above the valley of the River Stour in the picturesque Kent Downs.”

Links to past posts on the trip, including a preview visit last May. Starting last March, Next up – Hiking the Canterbury Trail, then A mid-May “Recon,” “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” A return, to “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” From Stratford-on-Avon to Byng Street in London, From “Fat Henry” to Gipsy Moth pub, and From (a) Bath to “The Gun.” After that came the first two-of-three preview posts for the hike: A Canterbury hike preview, and A second (of three) Canterbury previews.

We reached Canterbury on Wednesday the 27th, then on Thursday, August 28 toured the Cathedral – free – after getting our final stamp. In my case, Canterbury was the last of 18 stamps in my book, starting with Winchester Cathedral on August 11.

Re: “That time in Lyon.” See the full story at More “gang aft aglay” – and luxury in Lyon! BTW, the official name of “Lyon Part Un” – or One – is Gare de Lyon-Perrache.

Re: Do rags. See The ‘Do-Rag’, its story – African American Registry, along with Durag – Wikipedia:

Durags may be worn to accelerate the development of long curly/kinky hair, waves or locks in the hair;^[2] to maintain natural oils in hair (similar to a bonnet); to stop hair breakage; to manage hair in general; or to keep hair, wave patterns and braids from shifting while sleeping. Durags are also worn as an identity-making fashion choice,

Little of which I knew before writing this post…

Re: “At the Dickens.” Not to be confused with What The Dickens, with Dickens a euphemism for the word devil. Such euphemisms that avoid mentioning God or the devil – to avoid bad luck – are known as minced-oaths. Shakespeare used the phrase in Merry Wives of Windsor, 1600: “I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my husband had him of.” Meaning & Origin Of The Phrase – Phrasefinder.

Re: Estrella Damm – Wikipedia. A Spanish beer I acquired a taste for on the Camino Frances in 2017.

“Admirable self-denial” is what General George McClellan said in a letter to his wife after being offered command of all Union armies during the Civil War: “I almost think that were I to win some small success now, I could become Dictator, or anything else that might please me–but nothing of that kind would please me – therefore I won’t be Dictator.” See The Civil War Months.

Something else I didn’t know: Aside from being a Spanish word for tourist, “turista” can refer to the “diarrhea as suffered by travelers when visiting certain foreign countries.” Turista: meaning and origin – word histories.

BTW: I was standing outside, near the Paddington station entrance, because the McDonald’s on Praed Street was take-out only. But as it turned out I enjoyed the peace and quiet outside, and it wasn’t drizzling that hard.

The term “wont” is defined as an adjective meaning “accustomed or used to doing something, or a noun meaning a habit or custom. It can also be a verb meaning to accustom or to be accustomed.” (And not to be confused with “want” or “won’t.”) It can also mean a manner or action habitually employed by or associated with someone, as in phrases like “as is my wont,” or “as is his wont.” Definition of wont by The Free Dictionary.

The full link Walt Whitman: ‘Freedom – to walk free and own no superior discussed the two perspectives on freedom, external and internal.

The external perspective perceives freedom as the absence of external control or domination. It revolves around the idea of breaking free from societal norms, oppressive systems, and the constraints imposed by others. This concept aligns closely with Whitman’s quote, as seeking emancipation from any superior implies rejecting external influences. On the other hand, the internal perspective on freedom focuses on breaking free from the mental constructs and limitations that restrict personal growth. It involves self-reflection, introspection, and a journey towards self-discovery. (Emphasis added.)

Here’s a photo of outside of St. James, Shere, courtesy of Cell of the Anchoress of Shere – Atlas Obscura. It shows where poor Christina got herself walled in, after she “broke out of the anchorage after almost three years and attempted to rejoin society.” See also – aside from Wikipedia – Secret Surrey: The woman who chose to spend her life in a cell, The Anchoress of Shere, Christine Carpenter – Shere Delight, Cell of the Anchoress of Shere – Atlas Obscura, or Christine Carpenter – Surrey Cultural Lives. For more on Anchorites see Wikipedia: Such people were required “to take a vow of stability of place, opting for permanent enclosure in cells often attached to churches. Also unlike hermits, anchorites were subject to a religious rite of consecration that closely resembled the funeral rite.”

The lower image is courtesy of Dickens Tavern Paddington – Image Results. For more see Dickens Tavern Pub Restaurant in Paddington – Greene King, and Great pub in paddington, near the station.

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Re:  The Israelite.  Harry Golden grew up in the Jewish ghetto of New York City, but eventually moved to Charlotte, North Carolina.  Thus the “Carolina Israelite.”  I on the other hand am a “classic 73-year-old “WASP” – White Anglo-Saxon Protestant – and live in north Georgia.  Thus the “Georgia Wasp.”    

Anyway, in North Carolina Harry wrote and published the “israelite” from the 1940s through the 1960s.  He was a “cigar-smoking, bourbon-loving raconteur.”  (He told good stories.) That also means if he was around today, the “Israelite would be done as a blog.”  But what made Harry special was his positive outlook on life.  As he got older but didn’t turn sour, like many do today.  He still got a kick out of life.  For more on the blog-name connection, see “Wasp” and/or The blog.

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Some final notes, for possible use in a future post on the night before the last day in London: “Last night’s show ‘Tina,’ on Drury Lane [sic], was great. Very intense, good music (including ‘Shake your tail feathers’ from the Blues Brothers movie; in the original, ‘Shake your money maker.'”) And quite the musical comeback” – for Tina, after leaving Ike. Also: “An earlier adventure, yesterday [Friday] afternoon coming out of St. Pancras train station, this guy – dead to the world, but not dead. Though it did take the security guys at least 15 minutes to get him to respond.” And finally, at one point I wrote: “Back on the Trail a guy from Canterbury Cathedral said pubs were closing at the rate of five pubs a week. Seems hard to believe but ‘Hey, I’m doing my part!'” (To save some of them anyway.)

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Saturday, August 2, 2025 – Make that a third and final preview of my upcoming 16-day hike on the Canterbury Trail. (Also called the Pilgrims’ Way, starting in Winchester, 133.8* miles to the west.) See the Notes for links to past posts on this year’s UK visits, including a two-week recon in May. But the next trip will start with a red-eye to London next Tuesday. The second preview post got us as far as Saturday, August 23, “the 12th day our hike, leaving only four to go.”

That second post ended at the town of Maidstone, through which* runs the River Medway. (With a view of All Saints Church, Maidstone, next to the river.) Meaning this post will cover our last four days of hiking, through places like Lenham, Kennington and Chartham, some three-and-a-half miles short of the Cathedral. But the night before that last day’s hike we stop at Chilham, “a mostly agricultural parish, with settlement clustered around Chilham village centre, which is next to the Grade I-listed Chilham Castle.” But I’m getting ahead of myself…

On that last day of our hike we leave Chilham and hike some three miles to Chartham, then hike the remaining three-and-a-half miles to get to Canterbury Cathedral. And yes, some of these place-names do seem repetitive and confusing. Meanwhile, back at the hike:

To repeat, on Sunday, August 24, we hike an estimated 12 miles from Maidstone to Lenham. It has a “picturesque” village square, with two pubs, a couple of restaurants and a tea-room. Also, Lenham is near the main source of the Great Stour River and “also the source of the River Len, which flows in a westerly direction to join the River Medway at Maidstone.” (Back whence we came that day.) On the way to Lenham we’ll pass through Wye, five miles from Ashford (see below) and 12 miles from Canterbury. (BTW: In 2013, Sunday Times readers voted Wye the “third best place to live in the UK.”) On the way we’ll pass over the River Stour – of which more below, and as shown in the the picture at the top of the page.

On Monday August 25 we hike 11 miles southeast to Ashford: “The name comes from the Old English æscet, indicating a ford near a clump of ash trees. It has been a market town since the Middle Ages.” It’s also on the Great Stour River (and said to be just 15 minutes from the Eurotunnel). Then on Tuesday August 26 we hike back up northeast some 8.5 miles to Chilham, a village in the Borough of Ashford. It too sits near the Great Stour River, and is mostly agricultural, “with settlement clustered around Chilham village centre,” near Chilham Castle.

And finally, on Wednesday August 27 – the last day – we hike seven miles to Canterbury itself, and stay there two nights. (At a nice place not far from the Cathedral, near the River Stour.)

As for the terrain, the link East Malling to Maidstone Walk – Saturday Walkers has this hint:

The middle section of the walk mixes stretches alongside the River Medway with short excursions into the low hills on either side, with the first of these taking you to a highly-rated pub in West Farleigh for lunch. There are four bridges on this rural stretch of the Medway and those at Teston (pronounced Teestun) and East Farleigh are splendid examples of medieval design and craftmanship, with the latter claiming to be “the Finest Bridge in Southern England.”

That’s a look at the terrain coming into the town of Maidstone, on Saturday, August 23. (After the second of our two days off on Thursday, August 21, in Dunton Green.)

Then there’s the link, Pilgrims’ Way, Kent: “Follow in the footsteps of medieval pilgrims,” along the path that “inspired Geoffrey Chaucer’s classic Canterbury Tales.” The Kent Downs section of the hike was deemed an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB), along with the section to the west. (The Surrey Hills AONB “adjoins the Kent Downs AONB, and includes a continuation of the North Downs chalk ridge which runs through the Kent Downs, stretching from Farnham to the English Channel.” All of which I should have put in one of the earlier preview posts.)

And finally, some clues on the last part of the hike, Wye to Canterbury. (Courtesy of a fellow blogger-and-hiker.) “It could be a scene from the Middle Ages – a pair of pilgrims on a steady bucolic march to journey’s end – were it not for their baseball caps and cargo shorts.” Also, “you wander out of Wye Station on a cloudless morning and realise you’ve got 13 miles of beechwood paths and downland trails to look forward to.” Other nuggets: Barley fields and strawberry farms, with one woodland stretch lasting near an hour, “a corridor of dappled light and birdsong.” Nearing the end, despite “no consistent signage,” comes Chartham, where “pink snapdragons grow high on the church steeple” (St Mary’s), itself a five minute walk to the Artichoke, a 15th-century pub. (A few things to look forward to, including the Artichoke.)

“From there, the waters of the River Stour – shallow, clear, and full of bright green streamer weeds – lead the way into Canterbury.” And to this view, of the river at Westgate Gardens, in Canterbury. To sum up, here’s hoping for a happy and productive Pilgrims’ Way!

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The upper image is courtesy of Wye, Kent – Wikipedia.

Links to past posts on the trip, including a preview visit last May. Starting last March, Next up – Hiking the Canterbury Trail, then A mid-May “Recon,” “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” A return, to “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” From Stratford-on-Avon to Byng Street in London, From “Fat Henry” to Gipsy Moth pub, and From (a) Bath to “The Gun.” After that came the first two-of-three preview posts for the hike: A Canterbury hike preview, and A second (of three) Canterbury previews.

Re: 133.8 miles, from Winchester to Canterbury. That’s our estimate, based on some lodgings which may not be on the trail. And the “our” includes, me, my brother and his wife, with whom I have hiked since September 2019 on the Portuguese Camino. See “Greetings from the Portuguese Camino!” (October 2019, including this: “Part of the trip’s charm was that before, during and after the 18-day hike I greatly enjoyed the Iberian beers. Including Cruzcampo, Sagres, Mahou and Super Bock.”)

I tried different ways of saying the Medway runs through Maidstone; “through which” sounded a bit pretentious. But through which | English examples in context | Ludwig said it was okay. “In summary, the phrase ‘through which‘ serves as a versatile and grammatically sound means of connecting elements by illustrating a pathway or method. Ludwig AI confirms its correctness and broad applicability. Predominantly found in academic writing, news media, and scientific publications, ‘through which‘ maintains a neutral to formal tone..” (But it still sounds a bit too formal for me…)

The full link title: The Pilgrims’ Way, Kent • Hiking Trail » outdooractive.com. For some reason I couldn’t cut-and-paste text from it, but the reader is free to read it for details. (As I will do on the Trail.) Another note from Kent Downs – Wikipedia: “The North Downs Way runs through the full length of the AONB, the Stour Valley Walk passes through the east of the AONB, and the Greensand Way to the south of Sevenoaks.”

The full link title: In the footsteps of pilgrims: Wye to Canterbury | Travel blog.

The lower image is courtesy of River Stour Near Canterbury – Image Results. With a page-and-caption: “Great Stour river in Westgate Gardens, Canterbury, England,” photograph by Luigi Petro uploaded on July 26th, 2022. See also Westgate Gardens – Visit Canterbury, on the park along the banks of the River Stour and the ancient Westgate Towers. Also, “If you want to stretch your legs, you can follow the footpath along the Stour out into the countryside all the way to the picturesque village of Chartham.” (Back whence we came.)

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July 27, 2025 – One week from next Tuesday I’ll fly back to London. Then hook up with hiking partners and take the train to Winchester to start the Pilgrims’ Way. (Canterbury Trail.) So as the last post noted, “it’s time to get serious. Time to see what kind of terrain we have to look forward to.” And that last post got this pre-trip recon as far as Dorking, 49 miles from Winchester.

Dorking is a market town in Surrey, 21 miles south-west of London. And it is surrounded on three sides by the Surrey Hills National Landscape and close to Box Hill and Leith Hill.

Which sounds great, but first a note on arriving in London on August 6. I’m scheduled to arrive at Heathrow airport at 6:30 in the morning, but my check-in time isn’t until 2:00 p.m. That means I’ll have plenty of time to meander. So first I’ll take the Elizabeth Line to Paddington Station, which should take 30-40 minutes. From there I have a choice… Or do I?

If I walk down to the Wandsworth section of town – carrying at least a 15-pound pack* – it would be take at least 90 minutes to cover the four miles to my lodging.

Which is probably what I’ll end up doing, mostly because I couldn’t find a simple, direct and cheap mass-transit route. (Tube or bus.) Besides, it could be a pleasant hike. First down through Kensington Park along the Long Water and Serpentine, where I visited last May 8. (The May day I first got to London.) I could stop at “Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fountain,” then down to the Thames via the Sloane Street that eventually becomes Chelsea Bridge Road. “From there, straight southwest until you hit Wandsworth Road, then start checking street numbers.”

Just to be safe I’ll print out a paper map showing the area south of Chelsea Bridge.

Back to the hike. The link in the last post – Guildford to Horsley Walk – gave an idea of terrain on the way to Dorking, where we left off. But next is Greensand Way [from] Dorking to Reigate Walk – Saturday Walkers. That gives an idea of the terrain from Dorking to Redhill, Surrey, by way of Reigate Heath and Reigate itself. Mostly a gentle uphill slope, or so it seems, with most of the area a “shrubland habitat found mainly on free-draining infertile, acidic soils” and mostly “open, low-growing woody vegetation.” That’s the definition of “heath,” and that terrain also includes “acidic grassland, with some areas of woodland and marshy meadow.”

Which doesn’t sound too appetizing, but then comes Reigate itself, a town with a number of pubs & bars, including the Pilgrim Brewery. And who knows, maybe we’ll have time to stop there for a pick-me-up, before finishing the final two miles to Redhill? (The terrain along the way is also described as “mostly flat with a moderate long ascent.”)

On Tuesday August 19 we hike some 13 miles from Redhill in the direction of Westerham, a town in the Sevenoaks District of Kent, “adjacent to the Kent border with both Greater London and Surrey.” It’s said to be another “restricted route or private roads,” but mostly flat. On Wednesday August 20 we hike a mere 6.25 miles to a guest house somewhere in Dunton Green. It lies in “the valley of the River Darent,” three miles north of Sevenoaks and known as an “area of outstanding natural beauty, due to its proximity to the North Downs.”

We stay in Dunton Green two days, for the second of two days off hiking. Then comes a hike of some 10 miles, to past the town of Wrotham, “a village on the Pilgrims’ Way in Kent, England, at the foot of the North Downs.” Which brings us to the 11th of our 16 days on the Trail, with only five days left before reaching Canterbury. (Passing through Westgate, the medieval gatehouse.) Which makes this a good place to stop, roughly two-thirds of the way to the end.

And just a reminder: I’m writing these posts hoping to review them each night on the Trail. For example, on Saturday, August 23 – the 12th day our hike, leaving only four to go – we get to the town of Maidstone, largest in Kent, 32 miles east-south-east of London. The River Medway runs through the center of the town, and All Saints Church, Maidstone, stands right beside the river. So maybe – the night before – I can review this post, and by doing my research end up able to get a good picture like the one below. And know what kind of terrain to expect.

Next up? A post to cover our last five days hiking, through places like Lenham (a market village in the Maidstone, on the southern edge of the North Downs); Kennington (a district in south London and home of the Imperial War Museum); and Chartham (a village in the Canterbury district of Kent). All of which assumes I calculated right. Stay tuned!

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The upper image is courtesy of Box Hill Pilgrim’s Way Uk – Image Results. See also Pilgrims’ Way – Walking Away, with good information I may use in future. (“Pilgrims’ Way, Box Hill to Merstham.”) One nugget: “At the top of Reigate Hill … there’s a busy walkers’ café and I’m tempted by the menu.”

Some things I didn’t about the verb meander. Aside from meaning “to wander aimlessly on a winding roundabout course,” the word “comes from a river in modern-day Turkey, the Maiandros:”

Today, a stream or a path meanders, as does a person who walks somewhere in a roundabout fashion. If your speech meanders, you don’t keep to the point. It’s hard to understand what your teacher is trying to impart if he keeps meandering off with anecdotes and digressions.  

That’s from Definition, Meaning & Synonyms | Vocabulary.com. See also Büyük Menderes River – Wikipedia, on the Great Meander in southwestern Turkey: “The river was well known for its sinuous, curving pattern, and gives its name to the common term, (meander),” used to describe such bends in rivers. So I may add that word to the list of my writing characteristics, along with “rabbit trail” and “off on a tangents,” but obviously that’s a great way to expand your mind and learn new things.

Re: 15-pound pack. The experts say that for such long-distance hikes your pack should weigh no more than 10% of your body weight; in my case 15 pounds. For the last two hikes – in 2023 and 2024 – my pack weighed closer to 20 pounds, but this year I’ll try to follow the experts’ advice.

Westgate was another place I visited back in May, along with The Old Weavers House, Canterbury, serving “traditional pub food.”

The lower image is courtesy of Maidstone – Wikipedia. A historical note: All Saint’s was founded by the Archbishop of Canterbury William Courtenay in 1395. (Those guys are all over the place.)

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July 21, 2025 – Two weeks from tomorrow – Tuesday, August 5 – I’ll fly back to London. At the end of the week I’ll hook up with two hiking partners – my brother and his wife – and from there take the train to Winchester and start hiking the Pilgrims’ Way. (Also called the Canterbury Trail.) I did seven posts on the preliminary “recon” trip in May – listed in the Notes – but now it’s time to get serious. Time to see what kind of terrain we have to look forward to.

One article I found – Walking the Pilgrims Way – Explore Kent – spoke of the “ancient trail stretching some 150 miles across Hampshire, Surrey and Kent.” The first part described the path from Winchester to Surrey Hills. At the cathedral in Winchester the writer got a guided tour from a local, including the chance to pray at the shrine of St. Swithun. (The Anglo-Saxon bishop of Winchester, later patron saint of Winchester Cathedral, who died in 863.) 

But once he started hiking he found things a bit different. He met day hikers who were interested in his journey, but also “locals who honestly just thought I was mad for walking all that way.” Such negativity was offset by “some of Southern England’s finest landscapes.”

Some other highlights? The village of Chawton (once home to Jane Austen), the views of Farnham Castle from Farnham Park, the serenity overlooking the Hog’s Back between Seale [Surrey] and Puttenham (in Surrey), and “everything about sitting beside the church at St Martha’s [on the] Hill and the views over Dorking from the top of Box Hill.”

I’ll be checking those links on my tablet, hopefully each night before the next day’s hike.

The next section of Walking the Way – Kent, covered Sevenoaks to Canterbury. The writer reached the border with Kent on day 6, “transitioning from the Surrey Downs to the Kent Downs.” The scenery continued amazing. “The views from the top of Star Hill (near Chevening) and Shore Hill (near Kemsing) across never-ending rolling green hills were just breathtaking. Then, only a little further along the trail were the magical woodlands of Trosley Country Park where I would stumble across hundreds upon thousands of glistening bluebells.”

Then the outskirts of Maidstone. “There is so much packed into this beautiful 35 mile stretch of trail; amazing viewpoints up at Blue Bell Hill and White Horse Wood Country Park and beautiful woodland trails in the King’s Wood.” Then on to “some of the prettiest villages that Kent has to offer. Detling, Hollingbourne, Charing, Boughton Aluph, Wye and Chilham,” one right after the other. “The hardest decision I was having to make was where to stop for lunch!”

On his 10th and last day he hiked up “St Dunstans and through the Westgate Towers.”

The Westgate is a medieval gatehouse in Canterbury, Kent, England. This 60-foot (18 m) high western gate of the city wall is the largest surviving city gate in England. Built of Kentish ragstone around 1379, it is the last survivor of Canterbury’s seven medieval gates, still well-preserved and one of the city’s most distinctive landmarks. The road still passes between its drum towers.

For myself – and as noted in the “Fat Henry” post – on last May 14 an earlier travel companion and I did a day trip by train from London to Canterbury. (I wanted to check out some of what lay in store for me in August.) We stopped for lunch at The Old Weaver’ Restaurant, then walked the four minutes to the cathedral. That included going down Mercery Lane, “the same lane I’ll walk at the end of August, after hiking the estimated 133.8 miles or so from Winchester.”

Another note. Instead of covering the distance in 10 days, my brother, his wife and I will take 16 days, but that includes two days off from hiking. (All three of us are retired and in our 70s.)

Returning to what kind of terrain we’ll cover, I found some other posts. They divide the hike up in sections and one, St Swithun’s Way: Alton to Winchester – AllTrails, does the first part backwards. But it adds that it’s generally a moderately challenging route, taking an average of 8 hours and 16 minutes to finish. (Our route will be slightly different in that part, due to a quirk in finding suitable lodging.) And the link has over 500 photos, along with the comment, “This trail is [also] great for backpacking, hiking, and running, and it’s unlikely you’ll encounter many other people while exploring.” But hopefully some place to stop for lunch – and maybe a beer?

Next, Saint Swithun’s Way: Alton to Farnham – AllTrails. “Generally considered a challenging route, it takes an average of 4 h 53 min to complete. This trail is great for backpacking, hiking, and walking, and it’s unlikely you’ll encounter many other people while exploring. The trail is open year-round and is beautiful to visit anytime.” The link has 198 photos.

Next, Farnham to Guildford Station. Section 1 : Farnham to Guildford – National Trails says:

“From breakfast at Farnham to tea at Guildford, enjoy this peaceful linear walk along the first section of the North Downs Way with rural views and chances for exploration. A relatively easy introduction to the National Trail with no major hills, it is a long route at 17.5km setting off from the hustle and bustle of Farnham and slips into the tranquillity of the Surrey countryside. Much of this section is flanked by stretches of arable land and livestock. Pass through Puttenham with pubs to choose from, or stop at Watts Gallery tearoom at Compton. You can take a minor detour up to the ruins of St Catherine’s Chapel for sweeping views, or press on to Guildford town centre to relax after your adventure. [I added the emphasis.]

But North Downs Way: Farnham to Guildford – AllTrails says “Generally considered a challenging route, it takes an average of 5 h 9 min to complete. This is a very popular area for backpacking, hiking, and running, so you’ll likely encounter other people while exploring.”

Next North Downs Way – Section 2: Guildford to Dorking. “We started in Guildford, watching boat clubs zoom along the river Wey. Then we turned off onto the main route by crossing a pretty bridge.” That hiker did the route on a rainy day in January, so much of the trail was muddy with huge puddles. (Hopefully we won’t have that problem in August.) Then added, “As you walk through the woods you slowly climb higher and higher. Finally  you’ll reach the top by the church at the top of St Martha’s Hill. From there, you’ll be able to see down into the valley below. Well … at least you should be able to see the views if it is not too cloudy and rainy.”

Finding the path to Albury Downs, the hiker and his companion found “easily the busiest part of our walk. There were lots of other runners, kite-flyers and dog walkers.” There is apparently quite a view from Albury Downs, which led to crossing a busy road getting to Newlands Corner, followed by “easy going as it is quite level ground surrounded by woods.”

Which makes this a good place to stop. Writing this I found that a lot of place names – supposedly on the Canterbury Trail – were similar to or identical to other places in England but much farther away. Plus this post and the last one were both way longer than what I like to write. (And probably way longer than the attention span of today’s average reader.) So I’ll call a halt here and wait until Wednesday the 23d, when I’m supposed to get this book from Amazon.

Bottom line? All this is an experiment, trying to get a better handle on what kind of hike the one in August will end up. I’ll let you know in future posts how all that turns out, but as a fallback I could just turn to John Steinbeck, who once said, “You don’t take a trip, a trip takes you.” 

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The upper image is courtesy of Pilgrims’ Way – Wikipedia. Full caption: “In the Middle Ages the pilgrims’ route left the ancient trackway to climb St Martha’s Hill.” The hill is a landmark in “St Martha in Surrey, England between the town of Guildford and village of Chilworth.”

Links to past posts on the trip. Starting last March, Next up – Hiking the Canterbury Trail, then A mid-May “Recon,” “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” A return, to “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” From Stratford-on-Avon to Byng Street in London, From “Fat Henry” to Gipsy Moth pub, and From (a) Bath to “The Gun.”

For this post I also borrowed from Pilgrims’ Way Stages: Winchester to Canterbury | One Step Then Another. Also Along the Pilgrim’s Way From Winchester to Canterbury.

Re: Steinbeck on trips. The actual quote is “people don’t take trips. Trips take people.” John Steinbeck – Travel Quote of the Week – Authentic Traveling. As for using the quote repeatedly, you could cut and past “steinbeck trip takes you” in the search engine above right.

The lower image is from Julia Cartwright Pilgrim’s Way Winchester To Canterbury – Image Results.

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July 15, 2025 – Here’s what I hope will be the final post on my trip to England last May. (From the 7th to the 21st.) The Notes below have links going back to first one, about arriving in London on the morning of May 8, but meanwhile: In three weeks I fly back to London, and from there on to the Canterbury Trail. So I need to finish these On May posts before flying over again.

The last episode saw my companion and I get as far as a Britrail trip to Hampton Court Palace, of “Fat Henry” fame, on Thursday, May 15. Later that afternoon I did a near-four-mile round-trip hike down to the Gipsy Moth Pub, across the Thames in Greenwich, by way of the Greenwich foot tunnel. I didn’t have time for a beer then, but vowed that in a day or so, “I shall return!”

So here’s a quick cheat-sheet of what happened next.

On Friday, May 16, we did a day trip to Bath. On Saturday, May 17 – our 8-day Britrail Pass had expired – we used Oyster cards to get over to London’s National Gallery, and National Portrait Gallery. That night we met “friend Scott” for dinner. Sunday, May 18, we went to a service at St Paul’s Cathedral. Monday, May 19, we visited the British Museum. Later that afternoon I hiked down to the foot tunnel, then crossed over – under – then had a beer at the Gipsy Moth pub. (A definite highlight.) And still had time to meet up with “friend Ola” for dinner. (And another beer.) Tuesday, May 20, I visited the Natural History Museum while my companion visited the nearby Victoria and Albert Museum. (Verdict? Both worthy of day-long visits.)

And on Wednesday, May 21, we flew back home to Atlanta. Now for more detail:

Back to May 16: Bath, in Somerset, is 97 miles and over an hour train ride from London, almost to Bristol and the Bristol Channel. It’s known for and named after its Roman-built baths, built about 60 A.D. (The Latin name was Aquae Sulis, for “waters of Sulis,” a local Celtic deity.) I read that over 6 million people visit the place every year, and after our May 16 visit I believe it. One thing I noticed: The water was green! We heard that was caused by algae, which wasn’t a problem in the old days because the place had a roof over it. But with no roof, the algae got a boost from all that sunlight. Plus – I later learned writing this – the water is now polluted.

In more modern times swimmers used to bathe in the waters every year as part of the Bath Festival. Then in 1978 a young girl did that and “died of a meningitis-related illness.” Later tests showed a “dangerous amoeba that can give a form of meningitis.” On a more pleasant note, one thing I remember well – even to this day – was a hologram in one exhibit showing an en déshabillé Roman lady being prepped by local slaves to slip into the then-unpolluted waters.

Some things stick in your memory. Like that hologram – and our lunch at the Square Grill Brasserie and Piano Bar Restaurant, at 11-12 Abbey Churchyard. (Which according to Google Maps is one minute and 144 feet from “the iconic Bath Abbey and Roman Baths.”)

Turning to Saturday, May 17, we took a Tube-and-bus trip in the morning – courtesy of our Oyster cards – over to London’s National Portrait Gallery. We snacked at the Audrey Green cafe; “‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ inspired and bathed in natural light, occupying the ground floor of the [National] gallery’s East Weston Wing, a cool, contemporary and airy space.” (What I remember was a huge movie poster – one of many – with a very young Leonardo DiCaprio, standing next to a huge white horse in some kind of a circus surrounding.) After that we went to the one-minute-away National Gallery. (Both just off Trafalgar Square.) The portrait gallery included an official portrait of the new king, Charles III. The consensus, “not too flattering.” But I added, “I’m sure SOMEONE liked it!” (There was also a matched painting of Camilla next to it.)

My verdict? Both museums were worthy of repeat all-day visits.

Before heading back to the digs in Canary Wharf, we stopped off for a pint (for me) at Halfway To Heaven, on Duncannon Street. My verdict, “great little pub.” It was only later, after getting back home that I found out it was a well-known gay bar. (“Not That There’s Anything Wrong with That!”) Which probably says something telling about me. Like maybe I’m not too judgmental? Or maybe I was more focused on the very do-able beer prices. And a side note, for those who don’t drink beer that much: Many pubs we visited had ice-cold lemonade on tap, right there among all those beers on tap! Non-carbonated, and delightful. (That’s what I heard anyway.)

Leaving “Heaven” and heading down to Charing Cross station – off Trafalgar Square and by way of St Martin-in-the-Fields church – we had to negotiate our way through a pretty big and long pro-Palestine demonstration-parade. (Down The Strand?) You could Google it, but add the 5/17/25 date. There were many around the UK around that time.*

I managed to be sneaky and get a picture of the passing protesters, without getting my ass kicked. From there we met up with “friend Scott” for dinner at Noodle Street … Authentic Chinese Cuisine in Docklands. Another place I’d recommend, highly.

Sunday morning we managed to make the 11:15 service at St Paul’s Cathedral. (Not too late.) “Very impressive,” featuring a Missa Brevis in C (KV 257), by Mozart. (Much of which we missed, though there were people who came in later than us.) Also, the New Testament reading – from Acts of the Apostles – was written and read out in Ukrainian. (Though the following page had it in English.) After the service I made like a bag lady and gathered up left-behind bulletins as souvenirs for the folks at church back home in Georgia. And as I made like a bag lady the organist played a voluntary. (What I learned later was Bach’s “Toccata in E.”) Very nice.

After all that we had another split lunch, a Reuben sandwich combo, at The Paternoster pub, a two-minute walk from the church. Some reviewers gave Paternoster a bad rap,* but we liked it. But there followed another “cock-up,” involving my afternoon plan to get a bus down to the Wandsworth section of town. (Where I’ll be staying the first few days when I fly back in August.) Those plans ran head-on into the occasionally-iffy London bus service.

That was frustrating. Our bus was rolling along merrily when it suddenly stopped and we were told to get off. We ended up waiting at the stop a good 45 minutes. Meanwhile, the line for the next bus was getting so long that it was likely we’d have to wait for the one coming after that. But the eventual Plan B turned out, “the heck with this, let’s head back home on the Tube.” But first we made a prophylactic calm-the-nerves stop at Hamilton Hall, near the Liverpool Street Tube station. My verdict: “Great place to recoup, with a 4-pound Bud Light draft.* Cheapest beer I’ve gotten in London so far. ‘I’ll be back!'” (Though that will have to wait until August.)

As noted, on Monday, May 19, we visited the British Museum, “dedicated to human history, art and culture… Its permanent collection of eight million works is the largest in the world.” One thing I didn’t know: “The natural history collections were an integral part of the British Museum until their removal to the new British Museum of Natural History in 1887, nowadays the Natural History Museum in South Kensington.” (The Museum I would visit the next day, May 20.)

My reaction? A huge place, and overwhelming. (Mostly overwhelming “because of all the danged tourists!”) Plus it’s supposedly free, but they hit you up for a donation. We figured on going through the front entrance, but that’s only for those who book tickets in advance. Those without pre-booked tickets have to go ALL the way around to the back entrance, and it’s quite a hike. And there’s another swanky fourth-floor restaurant, like the one at the National Portrait Gallery. (And just like the NPG you need to book ahead.) Otherwise the food court “way down below” on the ground floor serves well. (They had beer, and like most museums in London they make up for the “free” entry with higher-than-I’m-used-to food prices. “But hey, it’s London!”)

Another reaction? Another place worth a full day-long visit, but overwhelming. In fact, so overwhelming that I had to take a break to fulfill another decades-long dream.

Back in May 1979 I worked nights as a paste-up artist at what was then the St. Petersburg Times. I dated a coed from Eckerd College* – probably a great-grandmother by now – and that spring she did a semester abroad at the college’s London Study Centre, 35 Gower Street. I saved up all my vacation time and flew over for a visit. One thing I remember: The Goodge Street tube station. Mostly because right outside was a great locals-only place serving fish and chips in authentic rolled-up newspaper. (I even acquired a taste for fish and chips both sprinkled liberally with malt vinegar.) I also wanted to visit the Study “Center” itself, if possible.

I headed out the back entrance we’d come in earlier, then turned left on Montague Place and over to Gower Street. (Google Maps says a four-minute walk to #35.) Just as I got there a group of four came out the front door. I talked to them a bit about my long-ago visit and they were polite and charming. (Humoring the Old Guy no doubt.) But just as polite was the young man I met inside, after explaining the situation again. I took lots of pictures of “those musty old rooms” that brought back plenty of memories. Like the cozy den-like room with fireplace, and the study room across the hall. Yes, “lots of memories,” but then it was time to get back to reality.

The Goodge Street Station is a five-minute walk from #35. Up Gower Street, on to the shady and tree-lined Chenies Street (and more memories), then up Tottenham Court Road to #72, where the memories ended. The area around the station was nothing at all like I remembered. No great locals-only hometown place serving fish and chips in rolled-up newspaper. Just a bunch of crowded, overshadowed trying-to-be-trendy-but-not-succeeding franchise places…

But I suppose Old People have talked like that since the beginning of time. To fix things up – get a better mood – I put my phone on Google Maps. (“Something new under the sun, Qoheleth!”) And lo and behold, I found Fitzrovia Belle, a “beautiful community pub on Tottenham Court Road which is all about friendly service & quality products.” Four minutes down Tottenham Court Road, and from there about a 10-minute walk back to the British Museum. (On the way I saw and took a picture of the “Big-shoes Guy” noted further below.)

Once back at the British Museum I met up with my patient travel partner and headed back to 9 Byng Street. From there, after a brief rest, I hiked down to the Greenwich foot tunnel, then crossed under the Thames and finally had that beer at Gipsy Moth pub. (A definite highlight.) And still had time to hike back and meet up with “friend Ola” for dinner. (At the Wahaca Canary Wharf Restaurant – rated 4.6 out of 5 – and another beer.) By the time we got back home I was tired – it had been a long day – but had time to write, “Last full day tomorrow. A visit to the British Library, with whatever happens after that, then back to the Digs to start packing. (Flying home Wednesday.) Now for a G-and-T, which I’ve learned to tolerate.”

That was the plan for May 20, but “there’s always the unexpected, isn’t there?” (Too many things to see and not enough time?) For whatever reason we opted out of the British Library and decided to “split the baby.” I’d see the Natural History Museum and my partner would go over to the Victoria and Albert Museum, right across Exhibition Road. On the way up from the South Kensington tube station we stopped for a mid-morning snack at the Kensington Creperie. I shared some food porn with the folks back home, via Facebook: “Coffee, sweet panini and some kind of chocolate croissant.” (A side note: At my first weigh-in back home I found that I had gained a few pounds. And I’ve been told it was a crepe, not a panini.)

From Wikipedia, on the NHM: A prominent exhibit – highly visible on entering – is an 82-foot-long Blue Whale skeleton that immediately caught my attention. (It replaced “Dippy,” a 105-foot long replica of a Diplodocus carnegii skeleton.) The museum is divided into “zones,” including a Red Zone, themed around the changing history of the Earth; a Green Zone, themed around the evolution of the planet; A Blue Zone exploring the diversity of life on the planet; and an Orange Zone, “Accessible from Queens Gate” that lets the public “see science at work and also provides spaces for relaxation and contemplation.” One thing I focused on, an anti-plastic research video, “Welcome to the Struggle!” (My reaction? “Frikkin microplastics.”)

Altogether way too much to see – to fully digest – in two busy days, but enjoyable for all that. (And I can come back in August.) But to chill things out a bit, we stopped at Honest Burgers, which Google Maps says is one minute shy of the South Kensington Tube station. I Facebooked to the folks back home, “Don’t know if this burger plate counts as food porn, but it’s g-o-o-o-d! Along with the 660 ml Brooklyn Pilsner. (Despite the name it’s brewed in the UK.)” And that from there we were “heading back to The Digs, to relax and start packing.”

But not quite: One more pub to visit. A 20-minute hike east to The Gun Pub in Docklands. It’s been around a long, long time, and offers a great view – off across the Thames – of The O2, “formerly known as the Millennium Dome,” on the Greenwich peninsula in South East London. And it was one enjoyable pub. In fact, so enjoyable that I’ll have to try and persuade my brother Tom to go there in August. But first, It’s time to finish this off and start getting ready for August.

“But wait, one more thing!” Remember the walk back from Fitzrovia pub to the Tottenham Court Tube station? And the young guy with the big shoes? That led me to think that London is full of all kinds of young people making all kinds of unique “statements.” My response? “Oy vay. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto!” I had to share the picture, and that I can’t wait to get back…

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The upper image is courtesy of The Gun Pub Docklands – Image Results. See also THE GUN – Updated July 2025 – 150 Photos & 88 Reviews – Yelp, The Gun | Pub and Restaurant on Docklands | Excel London, and The Gun – Historic Riverside Pub Docklands London – The Gun

Links to past posts on the trip. Starting last March, Next up – Hiking the Canterbury Trail, then A mid-May “Recon,” “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” A return, to “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” From Stratford-on-Avon to Byng Street in London, and From “Fat Henry” to Gipsy Moth pub.

Re: “I shall return.” See Douglas MacArthur’s escape from the Philippines – Wikipedia.

Polluted “Bath” water. See This is why swimming in the Roman Baths in Bath is NOT a good idea. Dated May 2019, the article said climate-change protesters had jumped into the green waters fully clothed, which brought up the “not a good idea.”

Re: Audrey Green cafe. See LOCATION – AUDREY GREEN – DAISY, and Eat and drink – National Portrait Gallery, which listed three other food services: 1) The Portrait Pavilion Cafe, Gallery forecourt, Charing Cross Road, “take-away only;” 2) Larry’s Dining and Bar, third floor, table service, booking recommended; and 3) The Portrait Restaurant by Richard Corrigan, fourth floor, table service, booking recommended. (The last two sounded way too swanky for the likes of me.) See Richard Corrigan – Wikipedia, on the Irish chef born in 1964:

He serves as the chef/patron of Corrigan’s Bar & Restaurant Mayfair, Bentley’s Oyster Bar and Grill, Daffodil Mulligan Restaurant & Gibney’s Bar in London, Virginia Park Lodge and adjoining pub the Deerpark Inn in Virginia, County Cavan, and most recently The Portrait Restaurant, located on the top floor of the National Portrait Gallery, London.

Corrigan opened the restaurant on the top floor of the newly refurbished National Portrait Gallery in July 2023. “The Portrait Restaurant has received rave reviews from Tim Hayward in the Financial Times, Giles Coren in The Times and more.” (Yup, way too swanky for the likes of me.)

Re: Pro-Palestine demonstrations “around the UK at that time;” i.e., May 17, 2025. There have apparently been many since then. (Google “london palestinian demonstration london trafalgar square.”)

Re: Sunday morning service. The link is to Mass in C major, K. 257 “Credo” – Wikipedia. The New Testament reading was Acts 11:1-18.

Re: Bad reviews on The Paternoster. See NOTES COFFEE ROASTERS & BAR | ST PAUL’S, London – Reviews (Trip Advisor), but also The Paternoster, London, St. Paul’s – pubs & bars review, gave it four-and-a-quarter stars out of five. And like I said, personally, we liked it.

Re: Wandsworth. Wikipedia says the London Borough of Wandsworth is one of “35 major centres in Greater London. The area takes its name “from the River Wandle, which enters the Thames at Wandsworth.” Its main communities are Battersea, Balham, Putney, Tooting and Wandsworth Town. (The latter is 2 miles southwest of Charing Cross.)

“4-pound Bud Light draft.” In dollars that would be (today) $5.37, still one of the cheapest draft beers I found “across the Pond.”

The coed at Eckerd College was Janine, mentioned in Countdown to Paris – 2021, and 2023’s Gearing up for the Stevenson Trail in France. After one week in London while she finished her course work, we toured Europe via Eurail Pass, including two days in Paris. Back then the Paris hotel prices were so “exorbitant” that we camped on the grounds of a no-longer-there youth hostel in Choisy-le-Roi.

Re: Hamilton Hall. For a non-“prove you’re human” link see Hamilton Hall – Good Beer, Good Pubs.

Re: A 10-minute walk back to the British Museum, from the Fitzrovia Belle. Google Maps says it’s 14 or 15 minutes because of “restricted usage or private roads,” but I didn’t see anything of that.

“Always the unexpected, isn’t there?” I remember that line from 1957’s Bridge on the River Kwai.

The full link for our May 20 mid-morning snack is Kensington Creperie London – themunchingtraveller.

I took the lower-image photo of “Big-shoes Guy.”

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July 10, 2025 – Here’s one more episode-post on my trip to England last May. (From the 7th to the 21st.) The Notes below have links to past posts on the trip, but meanwhile…

In less than four weeks I’ll fly back to London, and from there on to hike the Canterbury Trail. So I need to finish these “on May” posts before flying over for a second English venture.

In the last episode my companion and I ended up at Marlin Apartments, 9 Byng Street, in the Canary Wharf part of London. This was after our first (one) night in London – recovering from jet lag – then one night in Liverpool, and then two nights in Stratford-on-Avon. (The last two featured reservation “cock-ups,” explained and defined in past posts.) But from Monday, May 12 on, “I knew where I’d be laying my weary head for the next nine nights in a row.”

Briefly, here’s what followed. (A cheat-sheet of highlights.)

Tuesday, May 13, a day trip to Oxford and the Ashmolean Museum. Wednesday, May 14, a day trip to Canterbury, to see where I’ll end my hike in August.Thursday, May 15, a day trip to Hampton Court. Friday, May 16, a day trip to Bath. On Saturday, May 17 – our 8-day Britrail Pass having expired – we used Oyster cards to get over to London’s National Gallery. Sunday, May 18, we went to a service at St Paul’s Cathedral. Monday, May 19, later in the afternoon I hiked down along the Thames to a foot tunnel across from Greenwich, then crossed over – actually under – and had a beer at the Gipsy Moth pub. (A definite highlight.) Tuesday, May 20, I visited the British Museum while my friend visited the nearby Victoria and Albert Museum.

And on Wednesday, May 21, we flew back home to Atlanta. Now for more detail:

Tuesday, May 13. Oxford is roughly an hour train ride from London’s Paddington Station. It’s home to “the oldest university in the English-speaking world.” One thing I didn’t know: “There is a long history of brewing in Oxford. Several of the colleges had private breweries… In the 16th century brewing and malting appear to have been the most popular trades in the city.” But we focused on the Ashmolean Museum, Britain’s first public museum. (It started in 1678 as a place to house Elias Ashmole‘s “Cabinet of Curiosities.”) Of interest to me was the massive art collection, including drawings by Michelangelo, Raphael and da Vinci; paintings by Picasso, Cezanne, Titian, John Singer Sargent; and watercolors and paintings by J.M.W. Turner.

(I got tired just remembering trying to digest all those exhibits.)

On Wednesday May 14, we took a day trip to Canterbury. I noted, “Today I’m slowly working the way to Canterbury Cathedral, partly for penance? But mostly to see where we’ll end up at the end of August, after hiking all those miles.” On the way we stopped for lunch at The Old Weaver’ Restaurant, a quirky old-timey place four that “serves up hearty and flavorful British pub fare, with pies and fish and chips frequently highlighted.” (And a four-minute walk from the Cathedral.) From there we passed a statue of Geoffrey Chaucer – of Canterbury Tales fame – then walked the last block or so down Mercery Lane. That’s the same lane I’ll walk at the end of August, after hiking the estimated 133.8 miles or so from Winchester. (Depending on the source. I’ll give my updated estimate in September.)

The Cathedral itself was huge, and well worth the visit, but probably boring to the reader. (Besides, I’ll give an update with more detail when I get home at the end of August.) On the way back to the train station we stopped at Bakers and Baristas, 23 High Street, a coffee shop a mere three minutes from the Cathedral. (We needed time to recuperate from gawking.)

Thursday, May 15. For starters, we had to take “Britrail to Hampton Court. Meaning getting up at the crack o’ dawn, because if you don’t get there early the place is ‘filled with [bleep]ing tourists!'” (We got up early and to Hampton Court early, but the place was still full of tourists, bleeping or otherwise.) It was chock-full, mostly with of large groups of students, mostly well-behaved, and all on “outings” like the kind Mary Poppins mentioned in the 1964 movie. For contrast there was one two-year-old who threw a long, loud and continuous hissy fit. She was brought to the place by Grandma and Grandpa, apparently to give mommy a break, “but really? A dark dank spooky castle-like edifice filled with strangers? No wonder she wailed!”

But other than that the place was a fun visit.

For more starters, lunch in the cafe included a local brew. (Or so I thought at the time. It was actually a Meantime Greenwich Lager, ostensibly brewed in Greenwich, 18 miles away as the crow flies.) But it was “crisp and refreshing,” and went well with a split lunch of some kind of veggie pie, with a great Cole slaw mixture and assorted roasted more-veggies, all topped with gravy.

Some other highlights? The place itself was huge; in Henry’s day “200 cooks worked slavishly from sunup to sundown to feed 800 guests when Henry’s entourage was staying at the palace.” And there’s a picture of me standing in front of the huge fire in the huge kitchen, to feed those hundreds of servants. “The lady behind me is the Keeper of the Flame.”

And speaking of the good old days, how they disposed of “refuse.”

Lots of people: Lots of poo at Hampton Court. All human waste was gathered in a cesspool. Some lucky men had the fantastic job of using this chain pump to empty the pool when it was full. Insert one end in cesspool. Raise other end to highr ground. Connect higher end to pipe leading to river. Insert crank to turn the chain. The paddles will now carry the poo to the pipe. Let gravity do the rest!

All that was explained by a big chart on the wall, right next to the jury-rigged slooshy-looking chain pump that carried “waste” from the cesspool to the nearby Thames River. (Upstream from London, but still…) Which is why the English in those days drank beer instead of water!

Later that day we got back home for some well-deserved recuperation time. Duly recuperated, I hiked the near-four-mile round trip, down from Byng Street to the Gipsy Moth Pub, across the river in Greenwich. Or in my case under the river, by way of the Greenwich foot tunnel.

Sometimes on the way down I could hike along the Thames Path, a footpath that I just learned – writing this – is 185 miles long. (It starts at the river’s source in the Cotswalds.) But often the pleasant riverside path was blocked by big-ass waterfront condos. (Like the big-ass waterfront condos back in the States that block so much beach access.) When that happened I had to shunt over to Westferry Road. In due course I got to the tunnel entrance and started over.

Or under, more accurately. That was quite an experience. Good acoustics, meaning you could hear screaming little kids pretty much the whole way. And practice “limberness” dodging the frequent bicyclists, all while remembering to “look left,” the way they say in the UK. (Not “look right,” like back home in the States.) But other than that it was an enjoyable hike.

By the time I got across it was late and I had to get back for dinner. (And one of those G&T‘s in a can from Westferry Food & Wine, a three-minute walk from our apartment.) I took some pictures, including the famed Cutty Sark, “a premier exhibit at Greenwich.” Also of the Gipsy Moth Pub. I wrote longingly later that day at the apartment, “in a day or two I’ll hike back down, and under the Thames, with enough time to have a beer.” Which is a story for next time…

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I took the upper-image photo during our visit. See also Henry VIII, Terrible Tudor? | Hampton Court Palace, which included the following: “Henry’s religious policies met with opposition in the wider country, which he ruthlessly crushed.” “In 1539, the Act of Proclamations gave full legal authority to all his commands. Discriminatory laws were also passed … which had terrible consequences for many innocent people persecuted over the next two hundred years. Henry had become a tyrant.”

Re: Links to past posts on the trip. Starting last March, Next up – Hiking the Canterbury Trail, then A mid-May “Recon,” On “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” A return, to “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” and From Stratford-on-Avon to Byng Street in London.

Re: Old Weaver’s. See Home | The Weavers Restaurant, The Old Weavers House, Canterbury – Exploring GB, and THE OLD WEAVERS RESTAURANT, Canterbury – Tripadvisor.

Re: “Hiking 130 miles.” Wikipedia says the Canterbury-Trail hike is 119 miles. My brother Tom’s estimate is 133.8 miles, which includes getting to some of the hard-to-find lodging along the trail.

Re’ “Outings.” See He’s never taken us on an outing. – Mary Poppins (1964), Mary Poppins (film) – Wikipedia, and Punting on the Thames, including “When you’re with Mary Poppins, suddenly you’re in places you’ve never dreamed of,” and “And quick as you can say Bob’s your uncle, the most unusual things begin to happen.” Note that aside from the noun, there is a quite different verb definition.

Re: Hampton Court. Aside from Wikipedia, see 10 Fascinating Facts About Hampton Court Palace.

Re: Greenwich Lager. See Meantime Brewery – Wikipedia, and Meantime Greenwich Lager 24X 330ml Bottles: “East Anglian malt and Kentish hops combine for a crisp, refreshing lager that’s full of flavour. A modern classic, straight from London’s back garden.”

Re: Beer instead of water. Medieval English People Drank Beer Instead of Water – Scimyst supports the theory, while Did Medieval People Drink Beer Instead of Water? – HowStuffWorks. See also How Beer Became The Drink Of The English Poor | ShunBeer for some more fascinating reading.

Re: Thames footpath. See Thames Path – National Trails, Thames Path – Wikipedia, and Ultimate Guide to Hiking the Thames Path. As noted, there are sections of the Path in that part of London, between 9 Byng Street and the Gipsy Moth, but frequently you have to shunt over to Westferry Road, then back. Google Maps says it’s a 1.8 mile hike straight down Westferry, but that doesn’t account for the “shuntings.” (Note, the noun “shunt” has a different meaning than the verb form.)

The lower image is courtesy of Gipsy Moth Pub Greenwich – Image Results. See also The Gipsy Moth Pub & Restaurant in London, Greater London.

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July 6, 2025 – To catch you up, last May a companion and I visited England, from the 7th to the 21st. See links in the Notes for the trip’s purpose and progress, but meanwhile: Less than five weeks from now I’ll be flying back to London. There I’ll meet up with my two “Camino” hiking partners, brother Tom and his wife Carol. After a couple days getting settled in, we’ll take the train to Winchester. Two days after that we’ll start the long hike on the Pilgrims’ Way, from there to Canterbury Cathedral. All of which means I need to finish writing posts about the May visit – that Mid-May “Recon” – before beginning the next adventure in England.

In the last episode “we” got as far as the White Swan Hotel in Stratford-on-Avon, late Saturday night, May 10. (This was after leaving an updated “Much Ado About Nothing” at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre – “Waterside” – at 11:00 that night, then heading north – on Waterside – into the alien darkness – “not knowing where we’d lay our weary heads.”)

But things worked out, and the White Swan was a real treat. That continued into Sunday morning, before we headed to the 10:00 service at Shakespeare’s Church – Holy Trinity. (“Stratford-on-Avon’s oldest building,” on the banks of the Avon, and one of England’s most visited churches.) In the Swan’s breakfast nook I shared some food porn with folks back home. (Using two terms not often seen in one sentence; food porn and English Breakfast.) The Swan’s nook offered a multitude of items, including the classic “baked beans on toast.” I forewent that option and instead chose the French toast topped with fruit and some kind of yogurt. My conclusion? “Delish!” (Another word not often used in connection with “English breakfast.”)

After that we walked the 25 minutes or so to the 10:00 Holy Trinity service. (The post London, Liverpool and Stratford had a picture of me with the church in the background.) After that we stopped for lunch at Barnabys fish and chips, 22 Waterside, then “we” picked up some fudge at a street festival. (I certainly didn’t need it.) Then back to the Swan and a change of clothes.

In more casual dress we met friend Jane at the Shakespeare’s Birthplace museum about 2 pm. The visit included some old-timey-dressed performers doing bits from Shakespeare plays that involved some crowd participation. (Luckily I didn’t get volunteered.) We then followed Jane to her new flat down the street. (The afternoon before – before the hotel reservation “cock up” – we stopped by the two-story flat she was moving from.) Then headed back to the hotel.

Later that afternoon I took a walk. First, east on Bridge Street over the Avon River, then a bit more east down Banbury Road, then backtracked to the riverside park. (“The Recreation Ground,” including the Stratford-on-Avon Bandstand.) From there down the riverside footpath to the Lucy’s Mill footbridge, back across the Avon. From there I followed the footpath up past Holy Trinity – from the other end – and on back up to the White Swan.

My appetite restored, we had dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. A great shared meal including roast chicken, roasted root vegetables and gravy, and Yorkshire pudding. (Which I thought was a dessert, but no. “Not sweet, a savory crispy bread.”) There’s more detail in the Notes about this “no it’s not really a dessert even though the name makes it sound that way!” (Which illustrates the joy of discovery on your travels.) The hotel staff also showed us some things about the White Swan that had been uncovered during one of many renovations.

That included a framed readout of the hotel’s history, dating back to 1450. The readout included that after his 1582 marriage to Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare and Anne “would have drunk many a drink in the newly decorated tavern.” Another find? An ancient Bible in French open to the Book of Tobit. Yet another, a wall painting uncovered in a more recent renovation, this one in 1927. Research showed that the painting was commissioned by William Perrot, and could be dated “around 1560,” because Perrot and nearly all his family died “in the great plague in 1564.” The painting itself depicted the story of Tobias and the Angel, said to be a subject “doubly appropriate for a tavern of the day.” (Which I didn’t know.)

Next morning, Monday, May 12, we took the train from Stratford back to London, with a stop off at Winchester. (Where I’ll start my Pilgrims’ Way hike.) The goal was Winchester Cathedral, where the August hike will officially start. But first, we stopped for lunch at The Royal Oak Pub, the “oldest bar in England,” from at least 1002 A.D. (According to the chalkboard.) We checked out the Cathedral – and it was awesome – then headed back to the Oak. The Royal Oak that is, after an hour or two touring the Winchester Cathedral. (Lots of stuff to see.) This time I saw that “the Oak” had Estrella, a Spanish beer, on draft. (A brew I first learned to love on the original Camino Frances – French Way – from Pamplona, in 2017.) And by the way, I’ll have more pictures and commentary of Winchester in September, when I get back from the hike.

Finally, way later in the afternoon, we got on the train to London and eventually arrived at “The Place.” The place where I’d be laying my weary head down, for nine nights in a row. At Marlin Apartments, 9 Byng Street, in the Canary Wharf area. But first, the Ordeal…

The ride on the Elizabeth line – from Waterloo Station to the Jubilee metro station – was the ordeal, or more like a nightmare. 5:00 pm, big-city London, and the cars were jam-packed, all full of hot, sweaty, tired and anxious-to-get-home bodies. We had to let two trains go by, as they were packed like the proverbial sardines – chock full of people. Eventually we saw the third train a BIT less crowded, so we got on. Still, in all the jostling I got separated from my travel partner. She ended up surrounded – and jostled – by tall thuggish teenage lads, who refused to hold on to safety rails and giggled at the resulting bumper-car mayhem. I was luckier. I was surrounded – back against the sidewall – by a bevy of lovely young lasses. (Apparently, aside from the usual rush hour business-person traffic, a local high school just got out too.)

But wait, there was more! Google Maps says it’s a mere half-mile walk from Jubilee station down to 9 Byng Street. That’s assuming you head straight south, past Oysteria seafood, cross the New South Dock Bridge from Canary Wharf to the Isle of Dogs, down Admiral’s Way to Marsh Wall, then catty-corner over to Byng Street. That’s what Google said to do, but the only problem – construction! As in construction unanticipated by Google blocking the Google-suggested way. Meaning we had to backtrack up to Bank Street, then head west and on to negotiate the Marsh Wall Roundabout, then down the A1206, also known as West Ferry Road. All while lugging our bags behind us – and my “backpack on my back” – in what turned out to be a full mile hike, through a-bit-past-5:00 London rush-hour traffic.

Meaning, by the time we turned left onto Byng Street and found the lodging, we were hot, tired, hungry and bedraggled, not to mention in no mood to go back out looking for a place to have dinner. But somehow we got checked in, unpacked a bit and admired the nearby view of the Thames, through a gap in the tall buildings. And somehow I managed to find Westferry Food & Wine, a three-minute walk south in the Tower Hamlets building. There I found a bonanza: A slew of Ashoka Ready to Eat packets, including – for that night – Ashoka Aloo Matar, generally around £1.79 a packet. (We had two that night, to mix and match.) Also a prophylactic 16-ounce beer for right-away-me, and a good selection of ready-mixed gin-and-tonics-in-a-can. (A late-nigh libation I grew quite fond of over the next nine nights.)

For the morrow we planned a day-trip-by-train Oxford and sights like the Ashmolean Museum, but that’s a story for next time. Meanwhile, enjoy the view of Marlin Apartments, Canary Wharf. We had the seventh-floor apartment that included the ship-brow-like patio-balcony at the “toppermost of the poppermost” of the picture below. I later found out that it cost an arm and a leg – at least to me – but at a split cost of $100 a night, “actually not that bad – for London!”

Plus – I knew where I’d be laying my weary head for the next nine nights in a row…

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The upper image is courtesy of Royal Oak Winchester Uk – Image Results.

Re: The Notes for “the trip’s purpose and our progress.” Starting last March, Next up – Hiking the Canterbury Trail, then A mid-May “Recon,” On “London, Liverpool and Stratford,” and A return, to “London, Liverpool and Stratford?” 

Re: “Camino hike.” My definition: Any hike where at the end of each day you can look forward to a warm bed, hot shower and a cold beer. (You don’t have to pack a tent, sleeping bag, etc.)

For more on Shakespeare’s church see Church of the Holy Trinity, Stratford-upon-Avon – Wikipedia.

Re: Yorkshire pudding. The Britannica article included this about the classic old-fashioned British Sunday lunch: roast beef (not roast chicken), “typically cooked on a spit in a fireplace:“

Below the roast was a metal tray into which the fat and beef drippings fell. When the roast was done, a batter of egg, flour, and milk was poured into the tray, rising in the manner of a soufflé and forming a satisfying crunchy crust at its base where it had come into contact with the sizzling beef fat. The resulting pudding was then cut into squares, covered with gravy, and eaten as an appetizer or, less often, served alongside the roast, since it is considered a dish that should be served at once while hot.

And now you know more than I did when I first tasted this “Surprise, it’s not a dessert!” Also, Pudding – Wikipedia says it’s a type of food which can be – but doesn’t have to be – “a dessert served after the main meal or a savoury (salty or sweet, and spicy) dish, served as part of the main meal.”

Re: Backpack on my back. An allusion to The Happy Wanderer – Lyrics – Scout Songs.

Re: “Toppermost of the Poppermost.” A phrase from the Beatles’ early days, when times were tough. To cheer up the group John Lennon would say, “Where are we going, fellers?” The other three would respond, “To the top, Johnny!” Lennon: “And where’s that, fellers?” Response: “To the toppermost of the poppermost, Johnny!” See The one line John Lennon would use to cheer up The Beatles, and The Poppermost: The Poppermost Explained – Blogger. (I used the word “fellers” from Michael Shelden’s England, the 1960s, and the Triumph of the Beatles | Plus, from Great Courses.)

The lower image is courtesy of Marlin Apartments 9 Byng Street London Images – Image Results.

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As an extra added bonus, see If you want your 70s to be the most fulfilling decade of your life say goodbye to these 10 behaviors, for use in some future post.

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