Category Archives: Uncategorized

I take supplements these days. There’s the glucosamine with chondroitin recommended by Mark from University College of Osteopathy (formerly the British School of Osteopathy) that helps me keep the chronic arthritis in my left knee at bay for as long as possible. There’s the organic turmeric which is an anti-inflammatory recommended by my friend Nadia. And there’s the 50+ vitamins and minerals for us olds. Since lockdown started I have now reached a point in my life where I spend more per day on these tablets than I do on beer. WT actual F – where did it all go wrong?

There are days when I’m sure the stretching, strengthening exercises I do before going for a run take longer than the run itself. Since lockdown started I’ve now reached a point where I’m not sure what I miss most, parkrun or the pub. Well that’s not quite true but I miss parkrun so much more than I could ever have imagined.

It all started at school. I probably cherish the memories more fondly than the actual experiences at the time of ‘cross country runs’ in PE from my school in Blackheath. We’d go up Heath Lane and just before reaching the heath we’d swing left past the Pagoda. Then loop back to the school. The first part avoided roads but the return route certainly encountered traffic. Notwithstanding the serious issues surrounding air pollution in London pre-pandemic in the 21^st century, I can’t imagine anything like this being countenanced today. But hey it was the Sixties. (I recently asked @running_past if he would duplicate some of this run. He was more than happy to and if you’re interested you can check out his twitter feed or instagram for more info. Actually give him a follow anyway because the posts are a super chronicle of modern city life in south east London.)

Next came a few abortive attempts to establish a running routine while I attended the LSE but although I can recall very little of the routes I took I vividly remember the Dunlop Green Flash footwear I used in those days. Ah the innocence and the naiveté of those pre-Nike days in the UK. So, I can probably date my running life beginning back to working life in the Eighties. I worked shifts in what we called, data processing back then, for a high street bank. (That bank, NatWest, now supplies the pension that enables me to live this life of Riley.) Having taken the decision to invest in, what seemed at the time, an incredibly expensive, pair of Adidas trainers, I decided to stick with it.

Blimey, this post is turning positively Proustian.

When available, workplaces with shower facilities helped me shift a lot of my running to lunch times. The innovation that made the most difference to me wasn’t a ‘kit’ development but the arrival of the ipod and similar devices.  With the dawning of the 21^st century I worked in ‘Charity Towers’ next to MI6 with showers and was able to carry an almost infinite supply of music in my pocket. Now I could with stand the boredom of running more than an hour. Soon I was entering events like the Cabbage Patch 10 as well as other 10k’s, 10 milers and then half marathons. My training regime for a half marathon was run most days and just not drink the night before the race.

After running a half marathon in Fort Collins, Colorado in 2005 I entered for the Adirondack Marathon in upstate New York a year later (doesn’t everybody celebrate turning 50 by running 26.2 miles?) The race motto is: “The most beautiful 26 miles 385 yards you will ever run.” Well as it’s round a lake and in the mountains that is probably true but defying the laws of physics most of it seems to be uphill! I finished, with no walking, in a little under 5 hours but that was the start and end of my marathon career.

For the next few years I did the occasional 10k or half marathon – I highly recommend the Royal Parks half marathon and I wonder when others will be able to run these events again? Injuries from years of contact sport began to catch up with me. My left ankle went from being an occasional problem to a near constant issue when running or walking. (I can’t understand how that happened playing footie ‘cos I really only used that leg for standing on.)

Then came smart phones and running apps like nike run club+ and strava. I ran on and off, nursing my way through various aches, pains, strains and sprains but became more of a jogger than a runner. Then 2 years ago I decided I’d try again and do more than amble round the block. I ran regularly and gradually increased distance. I ran through pain and in this world of running apps wondered how on earth I managed before without knowing how far I’d run, how fast, average pace and so on. Forgive the virtue signalling but I can tell you on 9 October 2018 I ran my furthest – 15.86k; 25 October 2018, I ran my fastest 5k – 23 minutes 42 seconds; and had run my fastest 10k of 49 minutes 57 seconds on 30 September 2018.

All these are times and distances I’ll never see again because on Saturday 1 December 2018 it all came, quite literally, to a juddering halt at parkrun Harrogate. I pulled up after a mile with what I thought was a hamstring problem in my left leg. That hamstring was actually sciatica, which was followed by 3 months of pain and not being able to walk let alone run some days. It hurt to stand, to sit, to lay down and to move. Putting my sock on my left foot on my own was a thing of the past.

One comeback programme after another came and went. I remember running parkrun in Weymouth on 22 June 2019 with Clare. I had to get a coach back to London because of a rail strike. I hobbled off the coach and my left knee has rarely been pain-free since. After been diagnosed with chronic arthritis as I wasn’t able to get any physiotherapy on the NHS (which is fine but rather confusing if you ask me) I visited the British School of Osteopathy and that worked wonders. Right before lockdown I was getting back to running parkrun regularly, albeit in a time of 35 minutes which will take some getting used to but it’s great to be able to.

There is still a runner in the house though. Two years ago Clare took up couch to 5k and has now done 50 parkruns, one 10k event and is training (in hope) for the Royal Parks half marathon in October. We haven’t run as many parkruns together as I’d like but she loves running now and continues to exceed all expectations.

Well Dear Reader, this has turned into a much longer, more indulgent post than I’d anticipated so if you’ve made it to the end… THANK YOU. Apologies, it isn’t meant to be a cautionary tale of the dark side of running, the complete opposite in fact. During these days when we are sure of very little, running has not only been a constant it is also a tremendous comfort and consolation to me.

 

The walking class hero lockdown days playlist:

 Spencer Davis Group – Keep On Running

Emmylou Harris – Long May You Run

One Direction – Ready To Run

Martha Reeves & the Vandellas – Nowhere To Run

Gil Scott-Heron – Running

Kate Bush – Running Up That Hill

Jackson Browne – Running on Empty

Leona Lewis – Run

“A long time ago in a galaxy far far away…”

I’ve never been much of a Star Wars fan – although I am quite enjoying The Mandalorian on the Disney+ channel. But right now when we’re not engaging in working from home, or home schooling, or taking daily exercise, or reading Proust in the original French it seems everybody is binge watching TV on all the various platforms available.

Fuelled by a seemingly unquenchable desire for nostalgia the Star Wars franchise with its theme of the hero underdog overcoming impossible odds to eventually triumph is incredibly popular right now. It’s difficult to remember a time when it hasn’t been popular although it is mostly men who share this obsession in my experience.

This got me thinking about films and particularly disaster movies. They all seem to start with a scientist – again mostly male – having a dire warning ignored and governments putting all their energies into ‘reducing panic’ or ‘minimising risk’. (Sound familiar). For example, this is an extract from an email from Dr Sarah Jarvis, Clinical Director at Patient Access sent on 1 February 2020 (my bold emphasis): 

If you’ve seen the news at all in the last fortnight, it’s likely you’ve heard of the Wuhan coronavirus. Deaths and serious illness caused by the virus have been seen across China, and now infections are being found in other countries. Understandably, lots of people are panicking. But the risk to the public in the UK remains low, and governments internationally have put measures in place to limit the spread of the virus. As individuals, it’s always a good idea to minimise your own risk of disease, and the same applies here. 

So, it’s probably necessary to mention the zombie apocalypse here. Which as we all know, is when civilization collapses due to swarms of zombies overwhelming social, law-enforcement, and military structures. Typically, only a few individuals or small bands of survivors are left of the living. In some stories, victims of zombies may become zombies themselves if they are bitten by zombies or if a zombie-creating virus infects them; in others, everyone who dies, whatever the cause, becomes one of the undead. In some cases, parasitic organisms can cause zombification by killing their hosts and reanimating their corpses. In the latter scenario zombies also prey on the living and their bite causes an infection that kills.

In either scenario, this causes the outbreak to become an exponentially growing crisis: the spreading “zombie plague” swamps law enforcement organizations, the military and health care services, leading to the panicked collapse of civil society until only isolated pockets of survivors remain. Basic services such as piped water supplies and electrical power shut down, mainstream mass media cease broadcasting, and the national government of affected countries collapses or goes into hiding. The survivors usually begin scavenging for food, weapons and other supplies in a world reduced to a mostly pre-industrial hostile wilderness. There is usually a ‘safe zone’ where the non-infected can seek refuge and begin a new era.

People, be scared, be very scared when ‘social distancing’ morphs into ‘safe zoning’. And as far as I can work out every ‘zombie apocalypse’ is preceded by a global pandemic.

Just saying…

It’s not all doom, gloom and frantic sightings of the Four Horsemen though. Last week a 1.2-mile-wide asteroid swept by the Earth adhering to the requisite deep space social distancing. The asteroid is called 52768 (1998 OR2) – who gets to name these things and why can’t they do better? – and it was first spotted in 1998. On April 29, it passed within 3,908,791 miles of Earth, moving at 19,461 miles per hour. That’s still 16 times farther than the distance between Earth and the moon. No mention was made about whether it was wearing a face mask or even had a face to cover. Apparently, you could see this from earth with a telescope. I guess it would have to be a big telescope, and I know I’m a novice at this stargazing stuff, but I still marvel at casual observers being able to locate the space station and differentiate it from stars.

Binge watching isn’t really doing it for me during lockdown – think I’m more of a binge walker than a binge watcher. I more often than not see the BBC’s daily coronavirus update and the other day when Boris made his return to the podiums (should that be podia?) I vaguely wondered whether it would all be helped if his ‘walk on music’ was Darth Vader’s Theme from Star Wars. However, when I’m out strolling the local neighbourhood later, not only will I be trying to work out whether the majestic tree by our nearest post box is an Acer Platanoides (Crimsom King), while being confused about whether an Acer can also be a maple. All the while though, I’ll also be keeping a weather eye out for the zombie hordes.

Stay safe everyone and remember: ‘I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.’

 

The walking class hero lockdown days playlist:

 LSO – Star Wars Theme

Geek Music – The Mandalorian

Kacey Musgraves – Space Cowboy

Aphrodite’s Child – The Four Horsemen

Don Henley – They’re Not Here, They’re Not Coming

King Crimsom – I Talk to the Wind

LSO – The Imperial March

Introduced in 1921, ‘Mayday’ is a distress signal used internationally. Fred Stanley, a senior radio officer at Croydon Airport was asked to think of a word that would indicate distress and would easily be understood by all pilots and ground staff in an emergency. Since much of the traffic at the time was between Croydon and Le Bourget Airport in Paris, he proposed the expression “mayday” from the French m’aider (‘help me’), a shortened form of venez m’aider (‘come and help me’). Well it’s like we’re all screaming mayday but there’s no one listening or able to come to our aid.

In a world where the new normal seems to include a chief Scottish Medical Officer, Catherine Calderwood, resigning after twice visiting her second home in complete contravention of her own advice to avoid unnecessary travel. Do as I say not as I do. Or the UK scientific advice to control coronavirus was predicated on establishing herd immunity in the population until alternative scientific advice showed how that course of action would lead to hundreds of thousands of deaths and an overwhelmed NHS. Or The leader of the ‘Free World’ advocating that taking disinfectant internally could be examined as a possible treatment for the pandemic, even though it is known to be potentially lethal. An example of the cure being worse than the disease. And, as an aside, seemed to show he doesn’t know the difference between inject and ingest. Or a leading world politician saying he didn’t want to wear a face mask because he wanted to be able to look key workers in the eye. It covers your mouth and doesn’t make you blind for pity’s sake.

Still the statement that has surprised me the most has been Rishi Sunak MP, the Conservative Chancellor of the Exchequer, repeatedly referring to the TUC as “social partners”. It’s like the consequences of Thatcherism, followed by 10 years of Tory austerity, could be wished away as if they’d never happened. But then these are the same UK politicians ostentatiously clapping key workers, who clapped and cheered in June 2017 when Parliament voted against these same health workers receiving a pay rise.

The worry is that after the disease comes the debt and it’ll be the same bunch of hypocritical second-raters worldwide trying to sort that out. Public borrowing is set to soar to levels never seen before as economies fall into ruins. The longer homes remain in lockdown, the more stimulus Government has to inject into the system with factories, shops and offices shut and tax revenues evaporating in front of their eyes. As if this wasn’t enough to keep you awake at night, the driest April on record in the UK reminded us that the climate crisis is worsening and isn’t some distant future episode to worry about, let alone pay for, but one that is present and correct right here, right now.

If anything can be said to be working, it’s individuals, who despite being emotionally drained, are working tirelessly together in small communities trying to solve local problems. Like getting food to your neighbours who need it the most but can’t come and get it because they’re sick or someone in their family is sick. Like care home workers moving into the care homes where they work to limit the spread of the virus. If you’re a vaccine scientist in Oxford it’s the same except you’re trying to solve a global problem with your community. (And everyone is sitting with baited breath willing you to succeed with your first tests.)

All most of us can do is try to get by day to day finding solace where we can, focussing on ourselves and our loved ones. Following the death of his wife, Iris Murdoch, the writer, John Bayley, while grieving for her loss spent a lot of time remembering his childhood. It’s quite a common pain reflex to do all you can to escape the present by living in the past. Even more so if the future looks even scarier than a fairly frightening present.

But I find it’s important that I still try to live in the moment. To take the time to go for a walk and smell the flowers and think about how the environment is going to look in the near future. To marvel at the dawn chorus (it’s International Dawn Chorus day on Sunday 3 May) in towns and cities that you’re able to hear because of the absence of traffic noise. Or go for a short run where you just concentrate on trying your hardest for a few minutes of sweat and hard breathing and ranking that alongside other runs.

Me I do regular walking and jogging just like before but slightly modified and I’ve started to read Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and the Light (I loved the first two), even though I find it hard to focus on long books right now. I’m trying, with the aid of the Star Walk 2 app and #starentine, hosted by @megoizzy, to navigate the night sky. There’s baking as well of course – big thanks to Wrights Home Baking and my Panasonic bread maker. And of course, Netflix. I missed the first series of Ricky Gervais’ After Life – it’s hilarious – and I’m enthralled by the Michael Jordan docu-seies, The Last Dance, even though I know nothing about the NBA.

It doesn’t work for me but I would imagine finishing that 1000 piece jigsaw that seemed like such a good idea to begin 4 weeks ago is important. Or maybe food and comfort eating are the things that right now make the day worthwhile. And what about that coronavirus free zone the is The Archers? Maybe you’re doing the odd online quiz or 2 via zoom or facebook? You could give the RSPB’s Adrian Thomas a listen and don’t forget to join in some of the events during the virtual Urban Tree Festival later  this month.

If you’d like, let me know, in the ‘Leave a Reply’ section below, what’s getting you through the day.

 

The walking class hero lockdown days playlist:

The GO! Team – Mayday

Flogging Molly – The Worst Day Since Yesterday

Dixie Chicks – Something in the Air

Gary Jules – Mad World

LoneLady – Hinterland

Colin Hay – Waiting For My Real Life to Begin

Birdy – Fire and Rain

Jon Allen – Keep Moving On

When the nation has found the time to stop worrying whether this Government knows its arse from its elbow (Priti Patel MP, absolutely not back by popular demand, was wheeled out for the coronavirus briefing during the last weekend in April), or wondering how on earth we are going to reach the target of 100,000 covid19 tests a day, or even where exactly am I going to be able to buy flour? Some of us have been considering whether the blossom trees are the best we’ve ever seen or whether we’ve just got more time to study them right now?

With the weather in south west London more like mid-June than late April me and Clare headed for the Thames Path to walk from Kingston to Hampton Court. Although the Thames Path is exceptionally busy in many places this stretch on the north bank is very wide and lengthy stretches have the walkers and the cyclists separated. Exercising a little caution, and an excess of manners, negotiating the section where we left Kingston Bridge we were able to maintain adequate social distancing to the satisfaction of all. The ‘after you’, ‘no after you’ stutter shuffle doesn’t always do the job but worked a treat on this afternoon.

Me & Clare are more familiar with walking this part of the path the other way round. We’d occasionally meet at Hampton Court station on a Friday evening in the summer and ‘walk home’. We’d stop in The Boaters Inn, of course, for a couple of beers. Do you remember just casually dropping into pubs and drinking beer? (It’s a rhetorical question but feel free to use rhetoric to answer.) When this is all over…

I’ve written this before and I’m sure I’ll write it again but I really don’t know as much about tree recognition as I should. What I do know though, is that cherry blossom season in Japan is a major event, normally drawing visitors from around the globe to witness the petals in full bloom – London might not match Japan for sakura action, but there are plenty of bloomin’ marvellous places to see the flowers. So if you live local to any of the Royal Parks, especially Greenwich Park and its candyfloss arched avenue going towards or from the Wolfe statue, pop over and see ‘em while you can.

At Hampton Court, we stopped briefly for some essential shopping and had a Magnum each, no sitting or sunbathing officer honest, just a lean on the parapet near the bridge. We then headed home via Bushy Park. We Buffalo Gal’d it round the edge (“Buffalo Gals, go round the outside, round the outside..”) and re-crossed Kingston Bridge to home. The Thames Path is always a treat whatever the season but there’s something special about strolling along it in shorts, sunnies and a t-shirt in the sunshine.

Check out this walk on strava here: https://strava.app.link/505oQqsa55

The walking class hero lockdown days playlist:

 Blossoms – If You Think This is Real Life

Deerful – Bloom

Birdy – Keeping Your Head Up

John Paul White – We’re All in this Together Now

The Staves – Sadness Don’t Own Me

Malcolm McLaren – Buffalo Gals

 

I’m a Londoner born and bred. I’ve lived and worked my whole life in London. I was educated by ILEA and did both my degrees at London universities. I was born, and lived, my first 14 years in Lewisham and then have lived in various and different parts of this wonderful city, like Crayford, Enfield, Plaistow, Tottenham, Teddington and Thamesmead. I used to be scornful of suburbia but for the last 13 years me and Clare have lived in Kingston, in a terraced house with front & back gardens. And I love it…!

As we enter week 6 of lockdown, I’m even more thankful that I live here. Our house is under 5 minutes from the Thames Path and about 15 minutes from Richmond Park’s Ham Gate. And those aren’t the only two opportunities to get quickly out into nature. We’ve also got spots like Ham Common, Ham Lands and Canbury Gardens right on hand. My daily exercise allowance is mostly walking with some days a run. (I used to be a ‘runner’ but am definitely a ‘jogger’ these days.)

The walks are divided loosely into two sorts – the 30 or so minute strolls around the block and the longer, more planned, let’s discover some new places, walks. Both types are usually with Clare but the shorter versions can be on my own because you won’t be surprised that I think now more than ever it’s important to get out of the house every day.

I reckon the Government, who in my opinion are making a right mess of handling this pandemic, must be pretty confused about the response to daily exercise. All previous statistics showed the UK to be an appallingly sedentary nation. About two-thirds of adults didn’t reach the pretty low threshold of 150 minutes moderate exercise a week. Now everybody and their household partner seem to be clamouring to ramble, jog and cycle for as long as possible in the wide-open green spaces. So not only is it fairly understandable we got confused messages about exercise, it looks like more people than ever are walking a couple of miles a day.

I’m not sure it’s making a virtue of a necessity but I’m really enjoying the thrice weekly ‘walks round the block’. I’ve always enjoyed and, indeed, encouraged people to not only look up but to peer over walls and garden fences. The wisteria round here has busted out all over while lockdown’s been on. And who knew Kingston residents loved tamarix trees so much? Like wisteria their blooming time seems surprisingly brief but it’s absolutely spectacular. A more familiar suburban south London shrub is ceanothus, or California lilac and no Kingston front garden seems complete without a red robin, or photinia x fraseri.

All this is quite literally amplified by the surrounding birdsong. You can hear sparrows chirruping in the hedges, blackbirds singing away and, round here, the cacophonous squawking of ring-necked parakeets. (on walks I still love to tell people that the ever-growing flocks of these noisy colourful birds originate from Jimi Hendrix releasing a pair of the birds in Carnaby Street in 1968.

I remember visiting Saltaire a couple of years ago and having plenty of time to soak in David Hockney’s series of hawthorn paintings from near Rudston, Yorkshire. I think he returned to the same locations year after year to sketch and paint the evolving blossom from the local hawthorns. Walking round the neighbourhood regularly over the last month has allowed me to see plants, trees and shrubs bud, sprout and bloom before my very eyes.

 

The walking class hero lockdown days playlist:

 

Suburbia – Pet Shop Boys

London Boy – Taylor Swift

In the Neighbourhood – Tom Waits

LDN – Lily Allen

 

On Saturday 7 March I led a couple of dozen people on a Hidden River walk, tracing the line of the River Peck. After arriving at its outfall in Surrey Docks some of us pushed on along the Thames Path for a couple of drinks in The Mayflower at Rotherhithe. (It’s the 400^th anniversary of the sailing of the Mayflower and I’m sure the Pilgrims would want us to celebrate with a couple of beers or some glasses of wine.) The coronavirus was obviously a topic of conversation but it still seemed to be a foreign thing and in the late spring sunshine outside a crowded pub, social distancing was absolutely not the order of the day.

The following Friday, 13^th March, me and Clare were all ready to head for a weekend in Ghent. It was gonna be Belgian beer, Belgian chocolate, lots of walking in the pedestrian friendly city and visiting the Van Eyck exhibition, An Optical Revolution. While listening to the Today programme we heard that Belgium, along with others in continental Europe, where planning to close, until further notice all bars, restaurants, museums and galleries from midnight that night. Instead of the Eurostar we caught a 65 bus and went to Kew Gardens.

I’d been feeling a bit achy for a couple of days but that afternoon I started running a temperature and lost my sense of taste and with it my appetite. Normally my daily step count is 10000+. On Sunday I managed fewer steps than my temperature which was touching 39°C and my whole world became the bedroom, the sofa downstairs and the bathroom. I didn’t get outside the house again until Thursday 26 March. I assume I had covid-19, but, of course, like most of the UK I wasn’t tested. There was nothing mild about my symptoms but I guess I was lucky to only develop a slight cough and have a little trouble breathing for a day or two.

In those 2 weeks the whole world got turned upside down. Most of continental Europe, learning lessons from Italy, locked down on Saturday 14^th March or even before. The UK dragged its heels and only took this step on March 23^rd. Now any trip outside the front door whether for essential shopping or government sanctioned exercise is a challenge as we first put on face masks (if we have them) and then when we’re out try to modify an awkward version of the danse macabre that we’ve all adopted in various degrees to be able to safely social distance in the outdoors.

Counter intuitively everyone from park managers through government ministers to environmental charities prays for rain instead of sunny weather. This means we have organisations who now spend all their time and resources understandably discouraging people from leaving their homes to help stop the spread of coronavirus and protect our NHS.

These are often the same organisations whose major mission is to promote leisure use of city, town and countryside. And I have to say from where I’m sitting I think they are mostly doing a marvellous job in very trying and scary circumstances.

The Ramblers, under the hashtag #RoamSweetHome, has consistently emphasised exercising within the government guidelines. At the same time, it has had to take the extremely painful decision of suspending our amazingly successful group walks programmes, revise the business strategy and furlough about a third of its staff.

Here in London, the Royal Parks, became the poster child for overcrowding and were plastered all over TV, radio, newspapers and social media platforms as the country started to demonise cyclists, sunbathers and picnic’ers. In truth, it would have been easier for them to try and close their parks, as some London boroughs did. Instead they worked extremely hard in a thankless situation to try and find some accommodation that allowed the parks to stay open. Where they could they shut the parks to cars and gave the car parks over to key workers/NHS staff, instituted a No Cycling policy (except for key workers/NHS staff) and re-deployed their own staff to emphasise the social distancing regulations. So that’s a big ‘hats off’ to all Royal Parks staff and a plea for them to consider a permanent ban on motorised traffic in Richmond Park going forward.

The Thames Path National Trail, over 300 miles of trail on both banks of the river and just one trail manager, resorted to social media to cajole and plead with walkers and riders to avoid congested areas along parts of the route that it was impossible to practice social distancing on. In some places they resorted to hi-vis tabard wearing marshals asking folk not to jog or cycle or a timetable restricting cyclists, walkers and joggers to specific separate times to maximise use and maintain social distancing.

CPRE London, along with Paul Wood (aka @thestreettree), rather than postpone or cancel, elected to move the Urban Tree Festival to the virtual universe. Unfortunately, the evening walk in the City of London I was scheduled to lead Wednesday 20 May will have to remain in the physical world and I plan to re-arrange as soon as is possible under relaxed regulations.

The Canal and River Trust who possibly have a harder challenge to avoid congestion took a similar approach. TfL kept at it and made sure walkers knew that the Capital Ring and London Loop were still open and ready for use and have begun investigating the possibility of ‘cone-ing off’ some roads to reduce motorised traffic and give this over to walkers, joggers and cyclists. And we certainly know, just anecdotally so far, that the number of people walking in London has increased dramatically.

With ‘lockdown’ regulations looking set to continue in their current guise until June, and no hint of what the world will look like afterwards, perhaps we could hope TfL put into action more plans to close roads to traffic, or make some routes one way, or examine how quiet ways might be made over to just walking and cycling. And perhaps all the environmental, health & wellbeing and community groups in London could convene a meeting of all the stakeholders in London interested in active travel to find out exactly what we all want in this brave new world that will eventually emerge.

**** If you want to learn more about my Hidden Rivers walks just send me an email to walkingclasshero@gmail.com with “#HiddenRivers“ in the subject line ****

The walking class hero ‘Lockdown Days’ playlist:

Innocent Times – Eric Clapton featuring Marcy Levy

I Wish it would Rain – Faces

The End of the Innocence – Don Henley

 

Thomas Cole (1801 – 1848) is recognised as one of the greatest American landscape painters. Born at the height of the Industrial Revolution in Bolton le Moors, Lancashire, he emigrated with his family to America in 1818. One of the major 19th-century American painters, he is regarded as the founder of the Hudson River School, an American art movement that flourished in the mid-19th century. Cole’s work is known for its romantic portrayal of the American wilderness.

Currently the National Gallery has an exhibition (it closes Sunday 7 October 2018) of his major works. The exhibition is a chronological journey. It encompasses Cole’s trips to England and Italy between 1829 and 1832 and shows works by Turner and Constable that inspired him in London.

On his return to the United States, he produced his most ambitious work. Horrified by the effects of industrialisation during the presidency of Andrew Jackson, Cole painted impassioned warnings about the ecological cost of unchecked development. Indeed, it is possible to view his work as a personal manifesto offering his fears and solutions to the world around him, that thrilled and scared him in equal measure.

His paintings helped lead America to value not just its land but its landscapes, too. Within his work is the beginning of a nearly thirty-year process leading to the first federal preservation of a specific landscape—the establishment of Yosemite and the nearby Mariposa Grove of giant sequoias in 1864—as what we now call a national park, an idea that will spread across the United States and then the world. Cole’s body of work reveals how American art grew into an agent outside art’s own history.

Painting at the same time, albeit on a different continent were the English artists JMW Turner and John Constable and both in different ways were intrigued, curious and fearful of the consequences of a rapidly changing world as it came to terms with factory output and the growth of cities.

Joseph Mallord William Turner (1775 – 1851), was an English romantic painter, printmaker and watercolourist, known for his expressive colourisation, imaginative landscapes and turbulent, often violent marine paintings. Turner was born in, London, to a modest lower middle-class family. He lived in London all his life, retaining his cockney accent and assiduously avoiding the trappings of success and fame. He travelled far and wide filling voluminous sketchbooks on every journey. He adored Margate and the Isle of Thanet saying: “The skies over Thanet are the loveliest in all Europe,” he wrote of the area around Margate, where he painted more than 100 oils and watercolours.

John Constable (1776 – 1837) was an English landscape painter in the naturalistic tradition. Born in Suffolk, he is known principally for his landscape paintings of Dedham Vale, the area surrounding his home — now known as “Constable Country” — which he invested with an intensity of affection. “I should paint my own places best”, he wrote to his friend John Fisher in 1821, “painting is but another word for feeling”. His most famous paintings include Wivenhoe Park, Dedham Vale of 1802 and The Hay Wain. Although his paintings are now among the most popular and valuable in British art, Constable was never financially successful.

The Thomas Cole exhibition not only contains The Oxbow (shown above) and the epic, The Course of Empire series but also, my favourite, the much more allegorical The Titan’s Goblet.

It is easy, but no less true all the same, to draw parallels between a world at the start of the 19^th century struggling with nascent democracy and abuse of power by the ‘strong men’ of politics and today when nature once again faces challenges on all fronts as hard-won protections and laws are stripped away daily in the pursuit of greater per capita economic growth.

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Two Ramblers Eden to Empire walks in September 2018

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Join me and Ramblers groups Metropolitan Walkers & Capital Walkers in association with the National Gallery to learn more about Thomas Cole, JMW Turner & John Constable.

Walk 1: Saturday 15 September at 11 am

Turner & Margate

Meeting point: Margate station

Distance & description: 8 mile circular around Margate and the Isle of Thanet

Finish point: Turner Contemporary Gallery, Margate

 

Walk 2: Saturday 29 September at 11.15 am

Constable Country

Meeting point: Manningtree station

Distance & description: 8 mile circular visiting many of the locations of Constable’s famous paintings in Dedham Vale & Flatford

Finish point: Manningtree station

 These walks are FREE and open to all. There’s no need to book but if you want to tell me you’re coming along to both of either walks or would like to ask any questions please email me at walkingclasshero@gmail.com.

The pace will be leisurely and the terrain is easy so don’t be put off if you’re not an experienced walker. Bring along a packed lunch and plenty to drink. I expect I’ll have a drink locally before returning to London and you are welcome to join me.

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2 for 1 ticket offer for Ramblers members

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To celebrate Thomas Cole: Eden to Empire, the National Gallery is offering 2 for 1 tickets for Ramblers members. To redeem the offer simply show a valid Ramblers Members Card at the National Gallery ticket desk.

Opening hours: Daily 10am – 6pm (Friday 10am – 9pm)

The National Gallery, Trafalgar Square, London WC2N 5DN

T&C’s

• Offer is valid for Thomas Cole: Eden to Empire. It runs until 7 October 2018.

• The promoters are the National Gallery, London

• This offer is open to residents of & visitors to the British Isles, aged 16 years or over

• One adult (or child) is admitted free of charge when accompanied by one adult who pays the full adult price. In the event of a full price and concessionary ticket being purchased together, the higher price ticket must be paid for. Only one discount may be used per two people

 

The walking class hero playlist:

 Long Road out of Eden – The Eagles

Take the Long Way Home – Supertramp

Show Me the Way – Peter Frampton

Follow You, Follow Me – Genesis

Fake Empire – The National

Empire – Ella Henderson

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