Day Ten: Warning: This Kind of Thing Could be Addictive
Day Nine: We Cross the Border into Picturesque
Day Eight: The Beach of Broken Dreams
An important element of this journey has become the reclamation of forgotten lands both physically and spiritually, but I think Tilbury was always going to be excluded from that formula. Early on in our quest, at Kew Gardens, I was sketching out the route for an interested bystander and at the very name of Tilbury there was a sharp intake of breath.
Day Seven: We all need a bit of salvation – even the tomatoes
North Fleet, as locals are keen to remind us, is not Gravesend. It is, however, home to Ebbsfleet United Football Club where we all meet for today’s walk under a sign that reads, “No Ball Games.” The mayor gives a speech and afterwards I ask him: can a town suffer from low self-esteem? He thinks it can. Gravesend and North Fleet are no strangers to urban decay, social deprivation and failure. However, he assures me that the area is on the way up.
Day Six: From Small Beginnings
Dawn is just breaking when we emerge from the Kinetika studios and walk briskly down to the port in Purfleet. We are about to be treated to something special, but we don’t know that yet. At the C.Ro port gate we are met by men in hi-vis vests who walk us down past ranks of cars and vans waiting to be loaded on ships. “We’ve got two coming in soon,” says Barry, port manager.
Day Five: The Benefits of Slow Travel
Sitting in the RSPB café, I am looking over Rainham Marshes towards the distant skyline of London. You might think the closest thing to birdlife here is Canary Wharf, which I can see, but then an osprey flies past – or so I’m told, I somehow missed it. Heading down into the reserve I come across a lady wearing the sort of diamante spectacles beloved of Dame Edna Everage and a bright purple sweater. “I’m hoping for a whinchat,” she says. She is a knowledgeable birdwatcher, telling me in minute detail where to see the marsh harriers that live here.
Day Four: You Have to Walk a Place to Understand it
The area around London City Airport feels unloved, a mess of weed-fringed yards and fences, buildings with menacing defences designed to keep people out, or is it to keep them in? As a thin rain falls we walk east, soon picking up the riverside path, itself an uncertain accomplice, tip-toeing its way around obstacles like a trespasser, easily escorted away from its proper home by the water.
Day Three: Authentic Wicked Bunny Hops
Day Two: Into the Melting Pot – Tower Hamlets
If yesterday was all trees and lovely riverside views, today promises to be very different. For a start our banners are multiplying. By the time we convene at Spitalfields, there are six. And our numbers have swelled to almost a hundred. I’m getting used to the ripple of interest and bemusement that rolls before us. But this is the East End, people speak their minds: “Where’s OUR flag?” “Is that a big sari?!” and, of course, “What is it all about?”
Day One: Magnificent Bananas. The Walk Begins at Kew Gardens
You can’t walk down a London street carrying a seven-metre tall flag without drawing attention. “Why are those funny people doing that?” asks a small child. Trust a five-year-old to cut to the chase. Throughout the first day of this Silk River walk I have been asking myself the same question. I hope that the next ten days of walking will come up with an answer.