Wednesday 9 October 2019
Today we need to stay local to accommodate an early morning appointment as well as the school pick-up in mid-afternoon - best not to abandon our parental responsibilities two weeks in a row. This makes it an easy decision to select Greenwich for our latest walk - after all, not everyone has a World Heritage site right on their doorstep.
We decide to forgo Andrew Duncan’s guidance this week in order to give upstart walk-disrupter Stephan Millar a chance to show what he can do in London’s Hidden Walks*. Had we spotted beforehand that his Greenwich walk spans a weighty 40 pages (albeit stubby ones - is this a technical term?), we might have stayed faithful. I had also carelessly assumed I knew most things about Greenwich already, having done the main tourist attractions with multiple visitors over the years. I soon discover from reading Millar that I know the square root of diddly squat.
We join the walk in Greenwich Park, where a police notice on bank card scamming already sows seeds of confusion. Apparently the parking machine “cannot capture your card” but (next line) “if the card is captured by the machine do not walk away”. This seems oddly similar to our beloved government’s approach to a No Deal Brexit - it cannot actually happen (Benn Act) but if it does we shouldn’t be surprised and need to face the consequences. But enough of politics - this is meant to be a carefree walk on a nice day (notes storm clouds gathering on horizon).
Beside the Royal Observatory we admire the magnificent view of London while I regale (alternative definition: “bore”) Jayne with numerous facts. Nonetheless she appears gratified that a fellow native of Yorkshire, John Harrison, was the first man to invent an accurate ship’s chronometer. It took him 31 years though, quite similar to an innings by Geoffrey Boycott.
We are then underwhelmed by successive park landmarks - Queen Elizabeth’s Oak (which died in the 19th century and finally fell down in a 1991 storm), a Roman temple (or possibly villa) which is not visible to the naked eye, some underground tunnels (“conduits”) which are, er, underground so we can’t see these either, and One Tree Hill, whose single tree on first glance appears to be throwing a party for numerous friends but actually blew down in 1848. Here I should emphasise that, in spite of these minor gripes, we love Greenwich Park - always have, always will. Our love is rewarded when we chance across the Queen’s Orchard in the park’s far north-eastern corner. Opened in 2013 and maintained by volunteers, the orchard originally dates back to the 17th century and is thought to have supplied produce to the nearby Queen’s House when the Tudor monarchy still resided in Greenwich.
Millar grows on us as his walk soon takes us past some historical pubs - we especially like the look of the Cutty Sark, nicely located in a centuries-old street on the river but some way off the beaten track of Greenwich town centre (and nowhere near the actual Cutty Sark, whose adjacent pub is obviously the Gipsy Moth). We examine the menu, which looks tempting, alas our watches are only showing 11.30am, meaning (a) it’s still a little premature for lunch and (b) we have only been walking for 45 minutes. We press on, but soon pass two more waterfront pubs - The Yacht (closed) and the Trafalgar Tavern. Stomachs rumbling, mouths suddenly parched from the searing 11 degree heat, we synchronise watches (or Fitbits) again - 11.45. Tempus non fugit. We resolve to return shortly after noon following a whistle-stop tour of the Old Royal Naval College.
We soon realise there is no such thing as a whistle-stop tour here, as this is where much of Greenwich’s royal history can be found. We visit The Chapel, summoning memories of Rowan Atkinson’s endearingly bumbling vicar in Four Weddings and a Funeral, one of a very large number of movie scenes filmed in Greenwich. The Painted Hall is for another day. We do, however, reflect on the ubiquitous presence of Henry VIII around South East London. Here, there and everywhere - even in Eltham. Legend has it that Anne Boleyn caught the eye of her lover in this spot, thus sealing her gory fate, sentenced to death for adultery and treason. For some reason I find myself comparing the leadership styles of Henry VIII and Donald Trump - but that can bring no good.
Finally inside the Trafalgar, we order the “Lord Nelson charcuterie platter” and the Greenwich whitebait - if for no better reason than to compare and contrast it to last week’s similar fare in Highgate. Maybe this is our true calling - to compile a kind of Guide Michelin to the assorted cold meats and small fried fish of London hostelries. I’m suitably encouraged by the £16 price tag of the charcuterie - £2 more than north of the river and hence promising to be even more massive than ever. It arrives. It isn’t - again. More concerningly, it looks like a bog-standard supermarket selection we could have plonked on a plate at home for 50p. It does come with assorted pickles though (out of a jar from the same supermarket), plus some toasted, possibly even baked on the premises bread (not as tasty as the sourdough at The Angel Inn). Poor tourist-trap fare with a mark-up so outrageous even Lord Sugar would blush. Or as Jayne puts it: “It’s like a rip-off version of a Ploughman’s, with the good bits taken out”.
But there’s a silver lining. The whitebait is billed as the traditional meal of 19th century Greenwich (“caught from the Thames and served straight to the table”). Luckily ours has also been cooked somewhere along the journey - and it’s delicious. It gets better - Jayne, out of character but mindful of last week’s portion sizes, has suggested an accompaniment of “skin on fries, roasted garlic aioli” (i.e. posh chips). These hit the spot too. The choice of drinks is immense, in fact we’ve never seen so many bottles of spirits crowded into one place, but we’re both driving later so can’t do justice to more than a light ale and a glass of white. In the meantime (geddit?) the pub has filled up with a mix of university students and conference types with name badges, so we’re happy to leave, heavier of stomach and lighter of wallet.
The next points on the trail are those we know well - the Cutty Sark, the entrance to the foot tunnel (where, considerately, there is a warning sign that the lift at the Silvertown end is not working) and wonderful Greenwich Market. I’m a bit mystified by the absence of the Gipsy Moth IV (the boat not the pub) which used to stand in dry dock next to the Cutty Sark - this was the small ketch (only 53 foot) in which Sir Francis Chichester circumnavigated the world in 1966/67. I later read that it was purchased in 2004 for “£1 plus a gin and tonic” (Chichester’s favourite tipple), given a complete makeover and has since taken part in regattas and even a round-the-world race. Though no longer part of the Greenwich landscape, I can now view its image as often as I want on the inside back cover of my passport (thanks Wikipedia).
We march ever onwards in a bid to finish the walk before our maximum four hour parking expires, an eventuality which could still transform the packet charcuterie platter into the bargain of the day. On Nevada Street, Jayne is tickled by the sight of the sausage and vegan shops being separated from foody fisticuffs only by Oliver’s jazz bar nestling in between. Crooms Hill is narrow, picturesque and adorned with blue plaques such as that commemorating the former home of Cecil Day-Lewis, Poet Laureate (I wonder if his global superstar son Daniel, with his three Oscars, is at all miffed he remains “unplaqued” at his childhood home).
I’m very taken with the juxtaposition of Gloucester Circus, its stunningly beautiful 18th century townhouses, some of Greenwich’s most sought after real estate, standing opposite rows of 1950s flats that would be unlikely to find favour with Prince Charles. Jayne, on the other hand, is very taken with the local shops on neighbouring Royal Hill - a fishmonger, butcher and fruit ’n’ veg shop, all in a row. Why don’t we have this in Chislehurst? When are we moving to Greenwich? All valid questions.
We climb up Point Hill, which is very steep but leads to another well-known Greenwich viewing point, The Point. This is indeed well worth a visit, as the west to east panorama is both spectacular and explained in intricate detail on a new-looking sign. The old sign is also still in place, offering a couple of soundbites but an inadequate grasp of detail - which reminds me to check later what Boris Johnson has been up to today.
Now we really are under time pressure. With a mile still to walk, I inform Jayne we only have 15 minutes left to reclaim the car from the clutches of the Royal Parks wardens, whose reputation for timekeeping is the stuff of legend. I find I am able to speed-walk and recite whole passages from Millar’s guide at the same time - a multi-tasking gift that had remained hidden for all of my previous 56 years. I drone on relentlessly about the history of Blackheath (named after the colour of its soil, not the mass burial of Black Death victims as is often thought) and even the poor personal hygiene of Princess Caroline, estranged wife of King George IV (some remains of her sunken bath, presumably barely used, are to be found next to the Ranger’s House). Luckily we find a short cut across the park, which brings today’s history lectures to a merciful end and ensures we reach the car in the nick of time.
Summary: I may be a bit biased here, but I do think that a walk through Greenwich on a sunny day is one of life’s pleasures. From Stephen Millar we also learnt heaps more about its long and varied history, most of which has not been repeated here. Our walk took four hours, including up to an hour's stop for lunch, but was very rushed at the end and would have benefited from another hour (more if including any visits inside halls or galleries). At around 16,500 steps, with a steep gradient back up to Greenwich Park, this was good exercise but a long way short of last week's Highgate to Hampstead epic.
Our top tip is to walk the backstreets and the Thames Path as well as visiting the main town centre attractions such as the market and Cutty Sark, or the crowded Greenwich Park sites at the Observatory and the meridian line. This will give a more rounded picture of the “real” Greenwich, past and present. And we will definitely go back soon to visit the Cutty Sark pub, the Painted Hall and possibly the National Maritime Museum in a more leisurely fashion.
Acknowledgements: Richard and Jayne were following Stephen Millar’s “London’s Hidden Walks: Walk, Explore. Discover…”, Volume 3 - Greenwich Walk, pp 222-261, 2014 edition published by Metro Publications Ltd.
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