Thursday, 1 May 2025

Green Chain Walk D1.2: New Eltham - New Beckenham

Geese at the Tarn, Eltham.

Today’s walk threads through the hinterland of Eltham, Bromley and Beckenham, linking a typically varied selection of Green Chain sites. Small, local parks, including hidden gem the Tarn, and a surprising expanse of open fields provide reminders of the old rural estate of Eltham Lodge and Middle Park. Substantial patches of woodland link Mottingham with Sundridge Park, then the trail crosses the high ground between the rivers Quaggy and Ravensbourne (passing from the eastern to the western hemisphere) to reach one of London’s loveliest, but lesser-known, large parks at Beckenham Place. Though there are several street-based sections, they reveal more than their share of hidden gems.

Though there are numerous ups and downs, the going isn’t as rugged as parts of the previous walk. As well as the National Rail stations at each end there are four others on or near the route, and numerous bus stops, so splitting up this relatively short section further is very easy.

This walk combines several official Green Chain sections. It includes the rest of Section 7, begun in D1.1, to Middle Park, Eltham; a short part of Section 6, also the Capital Ring, to where it ends on Mottingham Lane; and all of Section 9 to its end in Summerhouse Hill Wood, Beckenham Place Park. We then follow the end of Section 8 to Stumps Hill Road, Beckenham, and a short length of Section 10 to New Beckenham station, both also part of the Ring, with a couple of suggested diversions to vary the route.

See the Ramblers guides for directions on the official sections, and my information sheet for stretches not covered in these. The routes and places mentioned are on my Google map.

New Eltham


Greenwich civilisation's last hope? The bunker in Southwood Park, New Eltham.

New Eltham was once a rural hamlet known as Pope’s Street or Pope Street amid farmland to the south of Eltham. It stood on the Maidstone Road, now Footscray Road, running from Eltham via Foots Cray into deepest Kent, where this crossed a minor road, then also Pope Street, now Avery Hill Road, linking with the Bexley Road at Avery Hill.  The old name is commemorated by the Pope Street Bar, in a 19th century building on the southwest corner of the junction, though this is a recent renaming.

When the South Eastern Railway (SER) opened the Dartford Loop Line through the area in 1866, trains ran through without stopping. The main purpose of the line, which ran from the SER main line at Hither Green via Sidcup to Slade Green where it rejoined the existing Dartford line, was to relieve congestion on the latter. The station, originally also named Pope Street, opened in 1878, and a scattering of new houses followed, rather large and grand ones intended for wealthy middle-class commuters. Scenting potential for passenger growth, the SER renamed the station New Eltham in 1886 to encourage the idea of an exclusive suburb, and the old name began gradually to fall out of use. The area kept its upmarket character until the early 1930s, when Woolwich borough council facilitated the development of much of the remaining agricultural land as cheaper, denser and more modest housing.

Much of the streetscape visible today is interwar. A good example stands next to the station drive: the neo-Georgian New Eltham Library in stern red brick, separated from Southwood Road by a prim stretch of hedges and shrubs. It was built in 1931 as part of the municipally sponsored expansion. Immediately adjacent is a smallish park, Southwood Park, added around 20 years later to serve the growing population.. Prior to this, it was farmland, apart from a cricket ground to the west which, although in Woolwich, was owned by Bromley council. The railings and strip of shrubbery parallel to the road retain their 1950s flavour.

The Green Chain Walk enters the park, and as you follow it past exercise equipment, note the windowless and near-featureless rust-coloured blockhouse behind the library, with a large radio antenna sprouting from its flat roof. This is a rare Cold War remnant, built in 1954 as 51C1 Woolwich Borough Civil Defence Control, where selected local council officers would in theory have kept calm and carried on in the event of a nuclear war, reporting to a regional HQ in Chislehurst. Although above ground, it has extremely thick concrete walls and two reinforced blast doors and was equipped with an air filtering system and a diesel generator. It became part of Greenwich’s civil defence infrastructure when the boroughs merged in 1965.

As I mentioned when passing a similar installation at Gravesend on London Countryway 1 original route, I can’t help thinking that such facilities were little more than performative propaganda, and the people who commissioned them knew full well they were woefully inadequate for keeping any kind of civilisation going following a nuclear apocalypse. This one was at least intended for use in other emergencies too: it was last occupied during a 1976 exercise to prepare for potential flooding while the Thames Barrier was still under construction. The GLC declared it unfit for use in 1980, after which it was sealed and a new control centre constructed in the basement of council offices in Woolwich, though this was only completed in 1991, by which time the Cold War was over and the civil defence network was being dismantled.

By 2003, security measures had deteriorated to the extent that members of urban exploration group Subterranea Britannica gained access, posting photos and a report online. They found something of a time capsule with the generator still intact, alongside phone switchboards, radio equipment, maps and paperwork and a kitchen with a 1950s cooker and electric kettle. Among the equipment was a radio console intended for relaying four-minute warnings and activating sirens and other alerts. After this the building was sealed again and it’s likely nobody has been inside since. I’m not sure why it still stands: presumably, demolishing or repurposing such a solid and specialised construction would be difficult and expensive.

The trail makes the first of several doglegs here, following the park perimeter before returning to Southwood Road. Much of the space is rather dull open grassland, but it’s at least green and airy, with a band of trees separating it from the railway line. There’s a larger patch of planted elm woodland marking the boundary of the old cricket pitch in the far corner. The pitch itself is now used for football, leased by the London Girls Football Club, alongside the pavilion which you pass on your way out of the park. Just by the exit, the Friends group has installed a rainbow-themed memorial to victims of the 2020-21 Covid-19 pandemic, incorporating a collage of flowers on the fence and, ingeniously, a string of cheerfully painted wooden posts.

Turning off Southwood Road onto Park View, you’re only a short distance from the busy Fiveways Junction on the A20, here very much a 1920s suburban trunk road lined with semidetached houses, apartment blocks and shopping parades. The block on the left corner of the main junction at the end of Southwood Road is known as Southwood House, though it’s not the original Southwood House that gave its name to both street and park: this is to the northeast at Avery Hill, now part of the University of Greenwich site, and we’ll pass close by on D2.2. Meanwhile the Green Chain stays on the south side of the A20 for some time as it ventures into the old estate of Eltham Lodge.

Eltham Lodge


The deciduous woodland in Fairy Hill Park. Fairies not included.

This stretch is something of a street-based trudge, so it’s hard to imagine that Green Lane, which you cross at the end of Parkview Road, really did once live up to its name. The land on its opposite side (west) was royal property since at least the mid-11th century, and by the early 1300s was part of Eltham Great Park, the vast hunting estate attached to the royal palace at Eltham which at its fullest extent stretched from Shooters Hill to Chislehurst. I’ve covered the general history of park and palace in more detail on Ring 1, but this tranche eventually formed a distinct part of the estate.

In 1650, during the Commonwealth period following the English Civil War, the whole estate was confiscated and ended up in the hands of prominent Parliamentarian Nathaniel Rich (c1620-c1702), a former colonel in Oliver Cromwell’s New Model Army. Rich tore down much of the woodland, selling the timber for shipbuilding and creating farmland, with this corner becoming Chapel Farm. Following the Restoration in 1660, the estate was returned to royal hands and in 1663 leased to John Shaw (c1615-80), a confirmed Royalist who had used his considerable mercantile wealth to bankroll Charles II in exile in France.

In 1678, Shaw created a new, modern country estate in the east of the park, centred on Eltham Lodge, a Palladian mansion on the site of an earlier and more modest lodge. It was designed by architect Hugh May (1622-84), one of the pioneers of the English Classical revival. By the 18th century, Eltham Lodge was associated with horse racing and a racetrack ran from the house to Chislehurst.

Eltham Lodge has a curious connection to modern Irish history. Between 1845-89 it was the home of Anne Wood, who later shared it with her niece, Katharine “Kitty” O'Shea (1846-1921). In 1880, O’Shea began an extramarital relationship with prominent Irish nationalist politician and leader of the Irish Parliamentary Party Charles Stewart Parnell (1846-91), who fathered three of her children. Although the affair soon became the subject of political gossip, it was kept from the public with the quiescence of Kitty’s husband William O’Shea, also a committed Irish nationalist whom Parnell had supported as an MP.

Kitty even acted as a liaison between Parnell and UK prime minster William Gladstone in negotiations over Irish home rule, and in 1886 Parnell moved into Eltham Lodge to live with her. William finally lost patience in 1889 and filed for divorce. The resulting scandal caused a split in the nationalist movement which was to have repercussions for decades afterwards, with the Roman Catholic hierarchy arguing Parnell was no longer a fit leader while more secular campaigners continued to support him. The church was successful in forcing him from office in 1891: he married Kitty the same year but died just months afterwards.

Wood helped determine the way the area was subsequently carved up by successfully arguing that the South Eastern Railway should build the Dartford Loop Line through the south of the park, well away from the house. In winter, you might be able to glimpse the red brick mansion, now Grade I listed, through the trees and across the railway to your right as you finally return to green space in Fairy Hill Park. The mansion is used a clubhouse by Eltham Golf Club, which leased the land from the Crown in 1892 and turned the surrounding park into a course.

As the successor of Blackheath Golf Club, the club claims to be the oldest in England. It traces its history to 1603, the year of the Union of the Crowns, when ‘goff’, as the game was then known, travelled south from Scotland with James I and VI’s courtiers. They took to playing it on Blackheath, conveniently close to the king’s residence at Greenwich Palace. The Blackheath club merged with the Eltham one in 1923 when the incursion of cars and other recreational users drove golfers from the heath.

Fairy Hill Park is named after Fairy Hall, another mansion originally within the Eltham Lodge estate, though curiously this is well over 1 km to the west: we’ll pass it later. The park was once the fields of Chapel Farm, with the racetrack passing through, and in the early 20th century was used as a rifle range. The A20 carved up the estate further in 1923 and the land between it and the railway line could easily have been developed for housing like the surrounding streets, but the London County Council recognised the need for green space and bought it from the Crown for £7,250 as a public park.

A little like Southwood Park, it’s largely mown grass, but is much loved by locals and benefits from the attentions of a keen Friends group. It’s well-kept enough to enjoy Green Flag status and includes a new community woodland, with around 1,000 trees planted on the southern and western perimeter in 2011-12, including willow, elder, hornbeam, poplar, hazel, buckthorn, rowan, cherry, downy birch and ash. In the northwest corner is a patch of conifers with a ‘conifer trail’ threading between them: there’s an easy detour along this which gives you a closer view of the golf course and a glimpse of the house.

Mottingham station on the Dartford Loop Line, almost opposite when you reach Court Road, is technically in Eltham rather than Mottingham and indeed was named Eltham on opening in 1866 despite its location on the very edge of the district. It was renamed Eltham & Mottingham in 1892 and became plain Mottingham in 1927, by which time the present Eltham station had opened on the Bexleyheath Line closer to the town centre. Some of the original white clapboard structure is still visible today.

The Tarn


The Tarn: a particularly bright hidden gem.

Crossing the railway, the Green Chain makes its most extreme detour. Stand by the fingerpost that points you through the gate of the Tarn on your right and you can see the junction of Middle Park Avenue, which carries the trail to Middle Park, just 20 m ahead along the road on the left. But this corner is almost 500 m away by the official route. Thankfully the extra distance is more than justified as the Tarn is one of southeast London’s most delightful hidden gems (though if you’re walking with a dog you’ll miss out as they’re banned from the site).

This small but atmospheric and charming 3.6 ha public park takes its name from the lake which forms its centrepiece, ‘tarn’ being a northern dialect term derived from Old Norse tjǫrn, meaning a small lake. Likely, though, this an early 20th century affectation as the lake is shown on older maps as Starbucks Pond, after a local farming family in the 16th and 17th centuries. The lake is fed by various streams that rise in the golf course, forming part of the catchment of the river Quaggy. It was originally a farm pond that was extended and reshaped into a decorative feature when Eltham Lodge was refurbished and expanded in the 18th century.

The lake and the remnant woodland surrounding it weren’t included in the golf course and by the early 20th century were leased separately from the Crown. In 1935, by which time the lake had become overgrown and stagnant, Woolwich borough council bought the property as a public park, creating the current layout with winding paths and a wooden bridge on round brick piers across the eastern end. The site was restored with a lottery grant in 2001, including measures to mitigate pollution from runoff water from the nearby A20, which was adversely affecting wildlife. A Friends group established in 2008 has made further improvements and holds regular volunteer maintenance days.

Bridge over untroubled water: The Tarn, Eltham.

The trail first tracks the southern lakeshore until it reaches the entrance to a recent Friends project, the Butterfly Garden. This is worth a quick detour as a delightful hidden corner with a bench surrounded by trees and rich vegetation, equipped with a wildflower meadow, bird nesting boxes and bee homes. Following the signs across the bridge, it’s worth pausing halfway across to take in the view to the left of the placid waters surrounding two artificial islands with a fountain beyond, and bird life which includes mallards, shelducks, Aylesbury ducks, Canada geese, swans and occasional herons and cormorants. When the light strikes the trees in a certain way, the effect is curiously dreamlike. On the other side, a toe of the lake reaches towards the golf course, visible through the trees.

You return along the north shore, passing woodland to the right which has long been fenced off as a bird sanctuary, popular with a wide variety of garden birds. Overall, 73 species have been recorded here. The brick hut with its veranda overlooking a lawn likely dates from when the site was first converted to a park: it’s used for open air events like afternoon teas organised by the Friends, education groups and volunteering. It also contains toilets, but these are kept locked except for organised events and activities.

Past this, it's worth taking a few steps down from the trail on the left to admire the marshy gardens that surround a stream flowing westwards from the lake towards Eltham Middle Park. This is the Little Quaggy, the first of several tributaries of the river Quaggy that we’ll encounter today. There’s one more feature of interest just before the park exit: a Grade II-listed brick ice well from around 1760, originally serving Eltham Lodge. Before artificial refrigeration, ice was cut from the lake on freezing winter days and packed in the well, insulated by a double layer of brick, so it could be used in warmer weather. The original domed brick roof collapsed in the 1960s while being stripped of ivy, and its replacement has a cutaway section that reveals the interior.

18th century ice house at the Tarn, Eltham.

Back on Court Road, originally a country track between Eltham Palace and Chapel Farm, our hairpin detour is almost complete. But first step a little right to note no 133, Tarn Lodge, built for the keeper of the site around 1905 when it was still in private hands to replace an earlier keeper’s lodge. It’s an attractive locally listed building broadly in Edwardian mock-Tudor style but with some unexpected Classical flourishes in the columns that support the first-floor gable.

Eltham Middle Park


Two of the Blackheath Donkeys at Eltham Middle Park with no buildings in sight.

Eltham Great Park was originally subdivided into three sections: Upper Park stretching northeast from the palace to Shooters Hill, Middle Park immediately south and west of the palace, and Lower Park further south towards Chislehurst. Significant parts of Middle Park remain as open land today, and the Green Chain now explores some of them, an incongruous patchwork of fields and hedgerows with fine views on the south-facing slope that descends from the palace to the Little Quaggy valley, preserving features of the agricultural landscape created by Colonel Rich after the Civil War.

Middle Park owes its survival partly to its continued status as Crown land, with little economic motive to develop it. Much was still leased as farmland until World War II, then between 1945 and 1992, the Royal Army Educational Corps was based at the palace, retaining the land nearby as open space in case it was needed for military use. Today the Crown leases out some of the fields as horse paddocks, while others are managed by Greenwich council as public open space.

Since 1971, the golf course, the Tarn, Middle Park, the palace itself and the surrounding streets have been designated as the Eltham Palace Conservation Area. By then, the not particularly attractive late 1950s flat blocks on the south side of Middle Park Avenue had already appeared: they’re described in the official conservation area character assessment as ‘an unwelcome intrusion’, but we’re soon past them, suddenly transported into a fragment of rural Kent on a rough and sometimes muddy path that climbs the hillside through a strip of woodland grown out from a hedgerow. This, it will turn out, is another dogleg detour that you wouldn’t want to miss.

The path takes a westward turn, emerging from the trees through an original late 1970s Green Chain kissing gate to run between two horse paddocks, with a stretch where there are no buildings whatsoever in sight. Shetland ponies often graze in the northern field on the right, but they’re upstaged by their neighbours to the south, the Blackheath Donkeys. This is a small drove of 10 donkeys who are so-called because in the early 2000s, they provided rides for children at the Blackheath Gate of Greenwich Park. When off-duty, they were kept in a field by Woodlands Farm and the garden centre on Shooters Hill (passed on D1.1).

They retired at the end of the 2011 season as the park was due to become an Olympic venue the following year and have lived here ever since. As you’d expect given their background, they’re a curious and friendly bunch and often approach passing walkers, doubtless hoping for a treat or two, though notices ask you to feed them only carrots, and not whole ones. They’re much loved locally and regularly attract small crowds of admirers at the junction of our path and King John’s Walk, in the northwest corner of their paddock. They even have their own Facebook fan page.

Green Chain Section 7, which we’ve followed since New Eltham, ends at the junction, where we join Section 6 and the Capital Ring (D4.1) downhill, with Eltham Palace itself in the opposite direction. I’ve said a lot more about the palace and the next section of the route on Ring 2 so I won’t repeat it here, except to say that King John’s Walk, an ancient path that once connected the palace with the lower park, was likely named after Valois king Jean II of France (reigned 1350-64), also known as John the Good, who was held prisoner at the palace following his surrender at the Battle of Poitiers in 1356. Vista Field on the right is part of the public open space, so named because of its views: a Green Chain alternative runs right past the viewpoint, but we’ll explore this on walk D5.

King John’s Walk returns us to Middle Park Avenue then crosses a triangle of grass by Joan Crescent, another vestige of Middle Park, leaving the conservation area. It crosses the Dartford Loop Line on a footbridge then finally takes us across the A20, the current incarnation of the road from London to Ashford and Folkestone which branches from Watling Street (the Kent Road) at New Cross. The highway originally ran though Eltham as the Bexley Road which we crossed in the last section at Avery Hill. This new alignment, the Sidcup Road, is sometimes claimed to be the first modern bypass. It opened in 1923, running just over 5 km from Lee to Kemnal Corner in Sidcup, avoiding the bottleneck of Eltham High Street. This was just as the Ministry of Transport was introducing its road numbering scheme, so the section we cross has always been designated A20.

Mottingham


Eltham College, the former Fairy Hall, not yet disappeared into a sinkhole.

Across the road, King John’s Walk crosses the Little Quaggy, which follows the A20 a short distance further before joining the Quaggy itself where the road bends north. We’re now officially in Mottingham: the stream became the boundary when the parish was carved out of Eltham in 1866 in anticipation of an increase in population following the opening of the railway the same year. When Eltham became part of the London County Council area at the end of the century, Mottingham remained in Kent, before joining the London Borough of Bromley in 1965. This is still the point where the Green Chain (and the Capital Ring) leave Greenwich and enter Bromley. I introduced the latter borough on London Loop 2, and as we’re still sharing a route with the Capital Ring, there’s a bit more about Mottingham under Ring 1.

King John’s Walk continues as a fenced path between more fields used as horse paddocks, attached to Mottingham Stables over on the right, and then between houses to end on Mottingham Lane. The fingerpost at the junction marks the end of Green Chain Section 6 and the start of two further branches. The Capital Ring (D4.1) follows Section 8 right, past various large Victorian villas noted on my Ring post, and we’ll meet it again towards the end of today’s walk in Beckenham Place Park. But for the moment our way is left, along Section 9.

The rather forbidding wall to the right encloses independent day school Eltham College and the main buildings begin to reveal themselves as you reach the roundabout. This is the original Fairy Hall, mentioned earlier in Fairy Hill Park, which was named after it. It was established as a country estate around 1700 when the big house at its core was built, although the house has been much altered and expanded since. The magnificent plane tree in front of the right-hand side of the house was probably planted as an original feature. In 1771 the estate became the London home of lawyer and high Tory politician Henry Bathurst, Baron Apsley (1714-94), who held the office of Lord Chancellor.

The estate subsequently changed hands several times, in 1889 becoming the home of the Royal Naval School, a boarding school for the sons of naval officers. This was founded in New Cross, on the site where Goldsmiths College is today. In 1904 the school added the rather attractive chapel visible close to the gate, but closed in 1910, with Eltham College replacing it in 1912. The present institution traces its roots to Walthamstow in 1838, where it was founded as a school for the children of missionaries, and had also been based in Camden and Blackheath.

Since 2012 the school has hosted the Gerald Moore Gallery, established by the like-named old boy Gerald Moore (1926-2018), who had a varied and colourful career as a qualified oral surgeon, medical entrepreneur, visitor attraction operator and sometime actor as well as an artist. The gallery, which is open every Saturday, displays his work alongside changing exhibitions by others and runs art classes and other outreach activities.

One of the adjacent fields was the likely location for the ‘marvellous accident’ in Mottingham in 1585, recounted by Thomas Fuller in his rather anecdotal book The History of the Worthies of England (1662):

Betimes in the morning the ground began to sink, so much that three great elm-trees were suddenly swallowed into the pit; the tops falling downward into the hole: and before 10 of the clock they were so overwhelmed, that no part of them might be discerned, the concave being suddenly filled with water. The compass of the hole was about 80 yards [73 m], and so profound, that a sounding-line of 50 fathoms [91.4 m] could hardly find or feel any bottom. Ten yards [9.1 m] distance from that place, there was another piece of ground sunk in like manner, near the highway, and so nigh a dwelling house, that the inhabitants were greatly terrified therewith.

Fuller makes the incident sound almost miraculous, but it was likely a sinkhole created by an underground stream, of which there are several in the area.

Mottingham’s commercial centre is a little off the route to the left at the roundabout, along Mottingham Lane. It boasts an unusual hexagonal war memorial in the form of a Roman Doric temple, designed by local architect George Hubbard (1859-1936), unveiled in 1920 and now Grade II-listed. But our way is south, straight across the grass expanse of Mottingham Sports Ground. This was an agricultural field until World War II, bought after the war by Chislehurst and Sidcup Urban District Council as a public open space to cater for the large social housing estate the London County Council had begun building on what was once Court Farm to the east. It’s still known locally as Foxes Field.

Mottingham Woods


Elmstead Wood in spring.

The Green Chain now passes through a chain of woodlands which aren’t quite so luxuriant as some of those on other parts of the trail. They were in commercial use until relatively recently, mainly growing oak standards as timber for Thames shipbuilders, with some cultivation of sweet chestnuts for food. The oldest trees standing today are thought to be around 200 years old. But the woods are nonetheless an invaluable and well-kept green resource and make for very pleasant walking.

Though the useful information boards dotted along the trail here refer to the whole complex as Mottingham Woods, historically the woodland was divided into two sections in two different parishes. The northern part, where we enter, was in Eltham and was once known as Crown Wood, suggesting it was part of the Eltham Palace estate, although Mottingham manor was controlled since the 12th century by St John’s Priory in Rochester. When Henry VIII dissolved the priory in the late 1530s, he passed the estate to the Bishops of Rochester, who had owned Elmstead Wood, the southern section of the woodland, since before the Norman conquest as part of their manor at Bromley.

The surviving woods, like the field, were acquired by the council in the 1950s as public green space. A keen Friends Group spearheaded various improvements in the 21st century, including the information boards, two additional short circular trails and some public art. There’s a website but it hasn’t been updated recently.

Source of the Grove Park Ditch in Lower Marvels Wood, Mottingham.

Entering the first woodland patch, Lower Marvels Wood, you’ll likely soon hear running water to your right. Follow the sound a few steps off the trail and you’ll find a brick water outlet in a trench. This is the source of another tributary of the Quaggy, the unprepossessingly named Grove Park Ditch, which joins the main stream just northwest of here, where Ring 2 and Green Chain 8 follow the Quaggy out of the Old Elthamians rugby ground. The flow is usually remarkably vigorous, indicating some subterranean engineering that collects water from a little further up the hillside, where several now-vanished ponds appear on old maps.

Lower Marvels Wood continues across Dunkery Road, followed by a brief urban interlude as a finger of the 1930s LCC Court Farm Estate extends between the woodlands. Pleasingly, a green strip, Calcott Walk, was retained as part of the design, and we’re soon in Marvels Wood, also once part of Crown Wood. You’ll encounter the shorter of the circular trails here, the 600 m Mottingham Wild Walkabout, which shares some of its route with the Green Chain. It’s designed to be wheelchair accessible, with hard but not sealed surfaces.

This area also boasts some interesting public art: a chainsaw wood sculpture of a bizarre face is just to the right along the Wild Walkabout route, one of several by Will Lee which have dotted the wood since 2010. If you followed the Wild Walkabout, which soon rejoins the Green Chain without much additional walking, you’d walk the entire 100 m length of the Marvels Wood Mural, created with the help of schoolchildren in the early 2000s and depicting local people and wildlife.

Marvels Wood Mural: plenty of bees.

Back on the main trial is a minor natural curiosity: a tree branch has grown in curious directions to form an almost perfect letter D. The particularly broad crossing path at the next junction runs along the old parish boundary between Eltham, later Mottingham, and Bromley. It also divided two Kentish hundreds: Eltham was in Blackheath hundred, while Bromley was in Bromley and Beckenham hundred. The woodland to the south is Elmstead Wood, a place name first recorded in 1320, which suggests there were more elm trees in those days than the oaks we see today. You meet the second, longer, circular walk here, the 1.9 km Mottingham Butterfly Trail, its points of interest highlighted on the onsite maps. Turning left at the junction on the Butterfly Trail connects with the Green Chain link to Elmstead Woods station, though we’ll deal with that on a later walk.

Twisted tree, Lower Marvels Wood.

There’s another tree sculpture, this one partly painted, at the next junction, approaching the cemetery fence, but the best one is just beyond it: a spectacular depiction of the face of the Green Man, with an owl nesting in his hair and a falcon taking flight from his head. You can also sample the mural here, running along the fence a little further right. Grove Park Cemetery was opened by the former Metropolitan Borough of Lewisham in 1935. It’s since been listed as a landscape of historic interest by Historic England and includes 56 Commonwealth War Graves. Although much of the cemetery was originally in Bromley, the boundary was reconfigured in 1994 and it’s now entirely within Lewisham, with the boundary running along the fence.

Will Lee's vision of the Green Man in Marvels Wood.

Our trail turns decisively south into Elmstead Wood, soon meeting another Green Chain branch which heads off left at a fingerpost: this is Section 9a to Chislehurst, and we’ll cover it as part of D5. Then, approaching the edge of the woodland with a fence ahead, the Butterfly Trail reconnects from the left: there’s a patch of sweet chestnuts here and more tree carvings. Beyond the fence is the South Eastern Main Line, built by the South Eastern Railway (SER) in 1865. The SER had connected London to Ashford, Folkestone and Dover since 1844 but originally via a roundabout route that first followed the London and Brighton Railway south from London Bridge to Redhill then turned east via Tonbridge to Ashford. The new line was opened as a much more direct route to Tonbridge, branching off at New Cross to run via Lewisham, Hither Green, Orpington and Sevenoaks.

The Green Chain continues to track the Lewisham boundary in something of a green tunnel between the railway and the cemetery to reach another path junction by a footbridge with a derelict but still unmistakably Lewisham-style sign just to the right. Yet another Green Chain branch, Section 8a, starts here, continuing ahead through Chinbrook Meadows to Grove Park where it connects with Section 8 and the Capital Ring. I’ll cover this as Green Chain D5, but for the moment our route is across the railway, leaving Mottingham Woods for the old Bromley manor of Sundridge.

Sundridge Park


Halls Farm, Sundridge Park.

Though Bromley, as previously mentioned, was associated with the Bishops of Rochester, this part of it was long a separately recognised manor known as Sundridge. A form of the name, which likely means ‘detached arable field’, was first recorded in 987, and there’s another village with the same name elsewhere in Kent, near Ide Hill. In the mid-13th century, it was held by Peter de Blund, a member of an old Norman family and Constable of the Tower of London. Its transformation into a grand country estate began in 1679 when the manor house and its surroundings became Sundridge Park, the country seat of Thomas Washers of Lincoln’s Inn Fields in central London. Its old local name, Washers in the Woods, suggests how heavily wooded the area once was.

Between 1792 and 1800, under two different owners, the estate was remodelled to a master plan drawn up by renowned landscape designer Humphry Repton (1752-1818), and the house demolished and rebuilt in spectacular style to designs partly by John Nash (1752-1835), inspired by Classical temples and incorporating a distinctive dome. The parkland later met the same fate as Eltham Lodge, converted to Sundridge Park Golf Course in 1903, though it’s still on the Register of Historic Park and Gardens. The house, now Grade I listed, became a luxury hotel, before being converted to upmarket flats in 2019. Sadly, it’s not visible from the trail: all you can see to the left from New Street Hill, which the Green Chain now follows for some distance, is a golf course that could be anywhere.

New Street Hill is nonetheless a quiet and pleasant leafy street with substantial interwar houses lining the opposite side, and it’s soon obvious you’re descending into a valley. At the bottom, we finally cross the river Quaggy, which runs under the road in a pipe roughly outside no 39 before emerging on the surface through the golf course. The river rises in Locksbottom to the south as the Kyd Brook and flows roughly northwest 17 km through Petts Wood (Loop 2) and Sundridge Park, through Chinbrook Meadows, the western parts of Mottingham and Eltham and through Kidbrooke to join the river Ravensbourne by Lewisham station. We’ll encounter it on several later walks. Its curiously comical name is likely from an old adjective meaning muddy or marshy, related to the word ‘quagmire’.

Eventually a pleasantly rural path branches off left, between the golf course and allotments, soon crossing quite a vigorous stream, another Quaggy tributary known as Milk Street Ditch. This originates underground just a short distance west on Milk Street, but doesn’t surface until it reaches the allotments, joining the Quaggy in the golf course. Milk Street is so named as it was originally the drive to a dairy farm, Halls Farm, attached to the estate: the allotments were actively used as fields until the mid-20th century. A big white Victorian house soon looms ahead to the right, the former farmhouse, now used as a children’s nursery: you can take a closer look by dodging a few metres down the path to the right at the end of the allotments. Beyond this is Halls Farm Scrub, all secondary woodland that’s grown up since agricultural use ceased in the 1950s, then a small recreation ground and tennis courts.

Milk Street Ditch flowing towards Sundridge Park.

A footbridge takes you across another railway, the Bromley North branch line. This is one of the more obscure and quirky backwaters of London’s transport network, a legacy of wasteful Victorian competition. As a substantial regional centre just outside London, Bromley was an attractive destination for the railway companies, and its first station, now Bromley South, was opened by the London Chatham and Dover Railway (LC&DR) in 1858. The LC&DR’s arch-rival the South Eastern Railway (SER) was envious, and in 1878 tried to poach some of the LC&DR’s custom with a short 3.2 km branch line from Grove Park, on its main line, to a second station on the other side of the town centre, now Bromley North, with one intermediate stop at Sundridge Park.

Though the line was never extended further, it retained regular direct services to London Bridge, Victoria and other central London terminals until 1976, when these were reduced to peak hours only. Since 1990, to manage congestion on the rest of the network, it’s been run entirely as a shuttle between Grove Park and Bromley North, known to staff as the ‘popper’, though the through connection is still in place and is sometimes used for trains diverted by engineering work. Transport planners have considered revitalising the line by converting it to a branch of the DLR or London Trams but for the moment it remains a minor appendage, with no Sunday service, rare for a London railway.

There’s a short street-based link here from where the path emerges on Minster Road to Sundridge Park station on Plaistow Lane, which is still much as it was in 1878, while the once-rural lane has become a pleasant local high street with some attractive cafés. It’s a convenient place to break the walk – except on a Sunday.

Plaistow


Kings Meadow, Plaistow, with wildflower meadow fenced on right.

Green Chain walkers now face quite a lengthy section mainly along streets, starting as the trail winds through Plaistow. This is now a residential suburb of Bromley but was once a recognised hamlet and manor within the parish, first mentioned in 1278. It stood on Burnt Ash Lane, a very old north-south road between Lee and Bromley, its name recalling the charcoal industry which once flourished in woodlands nearby. Another road, Plaistow Lane, branched southeast here towards Chislehurst, with a small village green at the junction. This has survived, though it’s a little south of our route and west of Sundridge Park station. The name, likely meaning ‘place to play’ and pronounced locally as ‘plah-stoe’, is a relatively common one: there’s another Plaistow in West Ham, Newham, on Ring 14.

Peter Thellusson (1735-97), a City banker born to a Huguenot family in Geneva who was heavily involved in the slave trade and Caribbean sugar, bought the manor in 1777 and built a luxurious mansion, Plaistow Lodge, which we’ll shortly pass. His descendants began developing some of the land, and in 1864 Plaistow became a separate parish in response to complaints from the growing population that this distinction had already been extended to Bromley Common, on the south side of the town. A new church, St Mary’s, was provided south of the green. The railway stimulated further development.

Modest David Bowie plaque, Sundridge Park.

One of the area’s most famous 20th century residents was musician, artist and actor David Bowie (1947-2016). Bowie, or David Jones as he was originally known, was born in Brixton, but moved to the area as a child with his family in 1953, initially to Bickley and then Bromley Common. In 1955, the Jones family moved into a modest terraced house at 4 Plaistow Grove, immediately west of Sundridge Park station, which has since been marked with a small blue plaque. Bowie lived here until 1969 with his parents and older half-brother Terry Burns, a major influence, though a troubled figure who also spent much time in psychiatric hospitals (see Coulsdon on Loop 5). So this was Bowie’s base for much of his early recording career, which began in 1964. His first album, David Bowie (1967), was likely written here, as was ‘The Laughing Gnome’.

Just to the right of where the Green Chain emerges on Minster Road is Kings Meadow, originally a private pleasure ground provided by housing developers in the 1920s. It later became a council recreation ground and was rather a bland grassy space until relatively recently when a Friends group got to work, creating among other things a wildflower meadow. A fence separates the meadow from Plaistow Cemetery, opened by the local Burial Board in 1893 and now managed by Bromley council. Besides 34 Commonwealth War Graves in the southeast corner, it's the last resting place of Samuel Cawston, whom we’ll encounter when we reach Bromley Hill.

A council walking and cycling route from Grove Park runs through the meadow, joining the Green Chain link to Sundridge Park station. Our route, though, is ahead along an alley called Nichol Lane, once a country track heading for a curious location known as Hollow Bottom which still has something of a rural flavour.

Hollow Bottom Cottage, Plaistow.

By the junction with Foxbury Road on the left is Hollow Bottom Cottage, a tall, narrow Grade II-listed brick cottage that looks like it’s been sliced from a terrace but was built as a detached house in 1739. By the end of the 19th century, it was used as a gamekeeper’s cottage for Sundridge Park. Just beyond it on the left is the Prince Frederick, originally a weatherboarded alehouse opened in 1723, though the current pub is an 1890 rebuild with a 1930s makeover. Originally the Prince Fredericks Head, it’s the only pub of this name, commemorating the eldest son of George II, who died young in 1751, allegedly after being hit by a cricket ball.

At the bend on Foxbury Road you can also see the cemetery between the houses on the right. The trail then crosses Burnt Ash Lane, with Plaistow Green a short detour south and the church a little further along, then continues along Park Avenue. Just past no 38 is a gate to the Parish Church of England Primary School, which now occupies Peter Thellusson’s original Plaistow Lodge, converted to a school in 1896 and now Grade II*-listed. It’s a grand neo-Classical mansion with a particularly attractive wing featuring a large arched window, but from the trail the houses completely block it from view, so if you want a good look, you’ll need to detour along London Lane. Continuing past a stinkpole on the corner of Kinnaird Avenue, you reach a triangle of grass on the busy road known as Bromley Hill.

Bromley Hill


The Italian Villa on Elstree Hill, a rare reminder of the Bromley Hill estate.

Bromley, likely meaning ‘clearing where broom grows’, first appears in the historical record in 862 as a village on an important route from London to Hastings which branched from the Kent Road at what’s now New Cross and from the Folkestone road at Lewisham. As mentioned above, the diocese of Rochester held the manor from the 10th century, building a palace for use by the bishops when visiting London. Bromley became a market town in 1205 when it was granted a charter by King John and subsequently grew into a significant regional centre. Besides David Bowie it has quite a roll call of famous residents, including authors Richmal Crompton (1890-1669), Hanif Kureishi (b1954) and H G Wells (1866-1946), though the so-called ‘Bromley Contingent’ of the punk era, centred on Siouxsie and the Banshees, mainly lived in other parts of the borough.

From the 17th century, proximity and direct roads inevitably attracted wealthy Londoners seeking their own country estates. One of these was Bromley Hill, to the northwest of the town, which spilled over the parish boundary with Lewisham. Its northern access was a lodge on the main road that was later rebuilt as a pub called the Garden Gate, so-called as it was close to the boundary with Kent, ‘the garden of England’. Off our route to the north, it’s since been converted to a McDonalds burger restaurant. From here the estate filled the land between the Hastings Road, here also known as Bromley Hill, and the river Ravensbourne south as far as Beckenham Lane.

A farmhouse overlooking the estate was rebuilt as Bromley Hill House in the 1770s. Charles Long, later Baron Farnborough (1760-1838), a lawyer, politician and close associate of sometime prime minister William Pitt the Younger, bought it as a family home after marrying in 1793, and he and his wife Amelia (1772-1837), developed house and grounds to their own designs. Amelia, a watercolour artist of some note, created woodland gardens with water features powered by various springs on the hillside. These were much admired by celebrity visitors including George IV as well as the public, as the gardens were opened weekly in summer.

The Longs’ descendants sold the estate in 1880 to a wealthy local stockbroker, Samuel Cawston, mentioned earlier when we passed Plaistow Cemetery. He soon began parcelling it out for development, initially for upmarket villas aimed at middle class commuters. The big house still stands, much altered and expanded and now used as a hotel, but there are few other remnants of the estate, and Amelia’s gardens have been entirely obliterated. The area retains a distinctive feel, though, and the steep slopes have inhibited the dense suburban development seen elsewhere in the area. You can read a bit more on the Ravensbourne Valley Residents website.

The trail reaches Bromley Hill just north of its junction with the old lane to Plaistow, London Lane. The road forms part of the stretch between New Cross and Farnborough which was turnpiked in 1719 by the New Cross Turnpike Trust. It was designated A21 in the 1920s but is no longer classed as a trunk road until it reaches Locksbottom south of Bromley.

Across the road the Green Chain enters the former Bromley Hill estate. Oaklands Road was one of the roads laid out by Cawston to facilitate development, while Coniston Road, which the trail follows north, was a curvaceous path through open parkland. Note the rough surface: one curiosity about this and several other estate roads is that by a quirk of land ownership they’re ‘unadopted’, meaning that they’re owned jointly by the surrounding properties and not maintainable by the council at public expense, though highway rights still exist over them.

The Bromley Court Hotel, as it’s now called, is a little further up Coniston Road, but the Georgian mansion at its core is almost unrecognisable. Our trail follows Elstree Hill, once an access drive to its stables and outbuildings. On the rightwards bend you cross onto the Lewisham side of the old parish boundary with Bromley, also crossing from Bromley & Beckenham to Blackheath hundred. Lewisham was once part of the London County Council area, while Bromley remained in Kent, so until 1965 you’d once again been entering London here. The boundary was initially retained when Greater London was created but tweaking in 1994 moved Elstree Hill entirely into Bromley.

Former Bromley Hill stables on Elstree Hill, Bromley.

The lane holds numerous intriguing features, not least of them the delightful strip of community garden tended by residents on the left just past the bend. Opposite this, the terrace of cottages with integral garages at nos 21-23 is a remnant of the Bromley Hill stables, and there’s another surviving structure set back from the street at no 13, the Grade II-listed Italian Villa. This began as a single storey summer house built for Amelia Long sometime after 1801, overlooking her Italian garden. It was rebuilt and much expanded in 1930 by R Alexander Young, the Lewisham district surveyor, an enthusiast for architectural salvage who incorporated various elements from demolished Victorian buildings.

The most obvious of these is the rather incongruous 1874 gateway arch fronting onto the street, rescued from the London School Board offices on Victoria Embankment near Somerset House, which had been pulled down the previous year. The gateway now seems disconnected to the villa thanks to the similarly noteworthy yellow buildings immediately behind it.

Elstree Hill, Bromley: displaced London School Board gateway (left) and Walter Segal self-build house.

These are a pair of self-build houses designed by German-born architect Walter Segal (1907-85), who in the mid-1970s persuaded Lewisham council to support an experimental scheme where he worked with council tenants to build their own homes from his kits on sites unsuitable for large-scale development. The site here, still in Lewisham back then, was an outlier: there are more Segal houses at Walters Way in Honor Oak and Segal Close in Brockley. Segal’s work also inspired Britain’s first black housing coop to build Nubia Way, just off the Downham Woodland Walk on Ring 3. The history of self-build schemes since has been a patchy one: they don’t sit well either with the traditional social housing ethos or with today’s developer-led private-public model, but the largest such scheme yet is currently underway at Church Grove in Ladywell, also in Lewisham.

Madeira Avenue, on the left at the next junction, was another estate drive. It’s worth detouring a few paces along it to note the prominent wall separating the first house on the right from its neighbour: this was the north wall of the Longs’ walled kitchen garden. The wall straddles the Prime Meridian: the unofficial Greenwich Meridian Trail follows Madeira Avenue and joins our walk for a while at the junction. You cross from the eastern to the western hemisphere as you pass the first of the two garages next to 2 Elstree Hill on the left. Another short detour left on Warren Avenue reveals the other end of the wall, even more prominent between nos 66 and 64.

A footpath now takes the trail across the flat floodplain at the bottom of the Ravensbourne valley, with the current boundary between Bromley and Lewisham running just to the right of the path. As often with urban rivers, the margins have been left undeveloped to avoid flood risk, but too many private playing fields block a continuous riverside trail. Until just after World War II, this was a more natural wetland, but was then drained, filled with rubble cleared from the Blitz and levelled to create the current grassy space. On the right (north) is Millwall FC’s training ground, while Warren Avenue Playing Fields on the left, though now in Bromley, is still managed by Lewisham.

River Ravensbourne, Warren Avenue Playing Fields, Bromley.

The Ravensbourne marked the western boundary of the Bromley Hill estate. The river rises at Keston Ponds south of Bromley, beside Loop 3, and I’ve said more about its name and its spurious connection to Julius Caesar on my post about that walk. It flows for 17 km northwards via Bromley, Catford and Lewisham, where it’s joined by the Quaggy, to reach the Thames as tidal Deptford Creek between Greenwich and Deptford. It’s an important Thames tributary, and the closest one to central London that still runs entirely on the surface.

Historically, the west bank here was part of the separate, but equally extensive, country estate of Beckenham Place. The patch of this between the river and the railway was developed for housing in the interwar period, despite the watery surroundings. Today, the buildings are quite a mix: 1930s Moderne-style semis mixed with more conventional houses of the period along Ravensmead Road, plenty of 1960s flats and houses, and a late 2010s block to the right where the path emerges onto the road. A few planters and patches of earth alongside the path and on the corner of the driveway constitute the tiny Ravensmead Community Garden, which when I last passed could have done with some tender loving care.

The trail passes Ravensbourne station on the Catford Loop Line, opened by the London, Chatham and Dover Railway in 1892 as a relief for its Chatham Main Line from London Victoria. This used part of the 1865 Crystal Palace High Level line, which left the main line at Brixton, then branched off at Nunhead to run via Catford, Beckenham Hill and Ravensbourne, rejoining the main line just to the south of our route at Shortlands.

The rest of the Crystal Palace line south from Nunhead has since closed and much of its trackbed is now a footpath which we’ll follow on Green Chain D6. But the Catford Loop remains open, now largely used by Thameslink trains linking London Blackfriars and Elephant & Castle with Orpington and Sevenoaks. The original booking hall at Ravensbourne burnt down in 1988 so the current one is modern, but the rest of the station retains something of the rural Victorian feel it had when it first served the commuters of Bromley Hill.

Beckenham Place Park


Beckenham Place Park's recently restored lake.

There may be more famous parks in London and the competition is tough, but Beckenham Place Park surely deserves a high ranking in any list of the capital’s most attractive large green spaces. Encompassing a generous 96 ha, it includes everything from ancient woodland and acid grassland to formal parkland, sports fields, an 18th century mansion and 21st century gardens. You’ll have already visited it if you’ve walked the Capital Ring, and I’ve said much more about the park and its history on Ring 3, but we’ll see a bit more of it today.

Like Bromley Hill, it originated as a Georgian estate. Unlike Bromley Hill, significant parts of it have survived as a coherent green space, though parts of it were developed just as rapaciously. It was patched together between 1757 and the 1780s from land in both Lewisham and Beckenham parishes by John Cator (1728-1806), an immensely wealthy merchant and property investor from a Quaker family. A keen amateur botanist, Cator introduced numerous exotic species and supervised the landscaping himself. Cator’s successors developed the southern and western tranches from the 1820s, but retained the mansion and its immediate grounds, renting these out to tenants.

In 1905 most of the remaining park was remodelled as a golf course. In 1927 the London County Council bought the estate to protect it as green space for residents of the large social housing estate of Downham nearby (Ring 3), then under construction. The golf course was retained, becoming the first such facility in England under municipal management.  When the LCC’s successor the Greater London Council was dissolved in 1986 the estate narrowly avoided privatisation and was eventually passed to the London Borough of Lewisham, who decided in 2016 that the golf course was no longer financially viable.

Since then, with the help of lottery funding and a Friends group (sadly dissolved in 2023 but retaining a web presence), the entire park has been remodelled for conservation and informal recreation in a gold standard example of how to regenerate a neglected green space. Except in one respect: besides the Green Chain and the Capital Ring, various shorter trails have been created, but no-one seems to have devised a consistent signing plan. There are waymarkers in a confusing variety of designs around every corner, but not always a Green Chain one when you need it.

Just after the railway and before the park gate, the Green Chain crosses the former boundary between Lewisham and Beckenham parishes, the latter also in Blackheath and Beckenham hundred. Prior to 1965 you’d once again be leaving London for Kent here, and until 1994 this was still the boundary between Lewisham and Bromley. The realignment that year sensibly placed all the park into Lewisham, a borough I introduced under Ring 2.

Inside the park, the path first runs through a strip of woodland between two fields. Crab Hill Field on the left (southeast), now the largest area of grassland in the park, was the site of an Italian prisoner of war camp during World War II. It was once known as Thistle Down but appears to have been renamed after the road we just followed, Crab Hill. This in turn was named after Crab Tree Field on Foxgrove Farm, one of the components of the estate to the southwest. On the other side is the former Lewisham Hills Field, so-called as it was always on the Lewisham side of the parish boundary, though after the Catford Loop was built through the park it became known as Railway Field.

Puddingstone, Beckenham Place Park.

A few metres beyond the entrance on the right is a geological curiosity, a deposit of ‘puddingstone’ consisting of flint pebbles bonded in what appears to be cement. Although reminiscent of modern construction materials, it was formed 55 million years ago when the area was under a shallow sea and the calcareous remains of marine creatures glued the pebbles together, creating a geological layer known as the Blackheath Beds. There aren’t many places in London where the beds are so clearly exposed, but we’ll pass an even better example on Plumstead Common on walks D2.1 and D3.

Our trail follows the edge of Crab Hill Field then turns into the main wooded area, Summerhouse Hill Wood, a remnant of semi-natural woodland with oak, ash and beech that predates the estate’s creation. The Greenwich Meridian Trail, meanwhile, continues around the edge of the wood on an alternative route. Just inside the trees, close to a small pond, are two slim late 19th century bollards marking the parish boundaries of Beckenham and Lewisham indicating that you once would have been leaving the former and re-entering the latter here, returning to London as it was prior to 1965.

Parish boundary markers, Beckenham Place Park.

Further on, a Green Chain fingerpost and information board marks the end of Section 9, with Section 8 and the Capital Ring approaching along the right-hand fork. To complete the walk satisfactorily at a station, we’ll need to duplicate Section 8 and the Ring here by forking left, but I’ve suggested a couple of diversions exploring some features not officially on either trail. The next 400 m or so are covered on Ring 3, but since I wrote that post, the lake, a decorative feature of the old park which was progressively drained during golfing days, has been magnificently restored as a swimming lake. The Meridian Trail rejoins where the Green Chain passes the southern tip of the lake, and just past this there’s a fine view of the mansion dominating the left-hand slope.

Just after the squirrel sculpture described on Ring 3 and a fine black mulberry tree likely dating from the early 19th century and once part of an orchard, I recommend a detour. First thread uphill through the Sensory Garden, created in 2010 with the help of a lottery grant and using plants that stimulate the various senses. It’s laid out in four sections around a central circle: scent on the left, with hearing behind it, and touch on the right with sight behind it, though as the online description points out, ‘some plants have attributes for more than one sense’.

This was once a rose garden which formed part of a larger complex of walled gardens stretching out to the right. The rest was restored and replanted as the Pleasure Gardens in 2019 and is worth an off-piste wander. Though today’s gardens are doubtless very different from anything John Cator would have created, they do at least nod to his botanical interests in incorporating a wide range of plants.

The Homestead, Beckenham Place Park, complete with mirrorball.

Above the gardens is the Homestead, a Grade II-listed cluster of 1780s former stables and other utility buildings around a courtyard. The site was badly damaged in a fire in 2011 then restored and repurposed recently as an excellent café, bar and events venue, with an education centre, retail outlets and toilets. The main stable block, now housing the café and classrooms, has an attractive canopy and a cupola with clock. On the right (north) is the Garden Cottage with its projecting gable end and bay window, while the more modest buildings opposite once housed a brewhouse and ‘horse hospital’.

Following my suggested route, you won’t pass the mansion itself, but you can detour a short distance left for a closer look once you’ve left the Homestead. Now Grade II*-listed, it’s an imposing sight with its massive portico. It’s still privately leased and isn’t in the best state of repair, so is still regarded as ‘at risk’ by Historic England. On Sundays, a street food and farmers’ market trades on the drive leading to the house.

New Beckenham

My alternative route and the Green Chain, Ring and Meridian trails rejoin just before leaving the park as you pass another patch of woodland, Scrumpshill Wood, on the right to emerge on Southend Road. Green Chain Section 8 ends, and Section 10 begins, at the junction with Stumps Hill Lane. Once again, I’ll refer you to Ring 3 for more information about New Beckenham and its connection to the Cators, but if you didn’t detour to the Edward VIII pillar box on the corner of Brackley Road while following the Ring, here’s your opportunity. With this option, you’ll also bid an early farewell to the Greenwich Meridian Trail, which follows Section 10 for a short distance along Stump Hill Lane before heading north on Worsley Bridge Road.

From the pillar box, you can either stay on the main road to finish at Beckenham Junction station, or as I’ve suggested follow Brackley Road to rejoin the main route of the Ring and Section 10 at the junction with Worsley Bridge Road, continuing past St Paul’s Church and through the Copers Cope Road Conservation Area to New Beckenham station on the Hayes branch line.

Tuesday, 29 April 2025

Green Chain Walk D1.1: Thamesmead - New Eltham

 

The classic droog's eye view of Thamesmead South across Southmere Lake.

Our exploration of the Green Chain begins beside the Thames in the distinctive environment of Thamesmead, with its mix of waterside, green spaces and Brutalist architecture. From the ruins of medieval Lesnes Abbey, the surroundings change dramatically as the trail connects several expanses of ancient woodlands, heaths and meadows, including the magnificent Oxleas Woods. Old lanes take us onwards through the patchwork of meadow, formal parkland and sports fields at Avery Hill to end amid suburbia at New Eltham station. Along the way we’ll encounter and sometimes follow two of London’s lesser-known rivers, the Wogebourne and the Shuttle.

The terrain varies from flat former marshes to rugged and hilly woods. Thamesmead famously doesn’t have a station, so you’ll need to take a bus to the start, with frequent and fast connections from Abbey Wood station, which is also handy for breaking at the abbey ruins. The trail later passes Falconwood station and there are numerous bus stops too.

This walk combines several official Green Chain sections. After an unofficial link from Thamesmead Town Centre (which used to be described in official guidance), it follows all of section 1 from Thamesmead Riverside to Lesnes Abbey; part of 2 to Bostall Heath; nearly all of 3 to Oxleas Wood junction; a short part of 6 to Shepherdleas Wood junction; and part of 7 to New Eltham. For detailed directions for most of the route, refer to the Ramblers guides. I've included full directions in my own information sheet for stretches not covered in these, and the routes and places mentioned are on my Google map.

Thamesmead

Brutalist classic the A Bridge, connecting a severed community.

As mentioned on several previous walks, the banks of the tidal Thames were once much marshier: even parts of what’s now central London close to the river were threaded with small streams and wetlands. To encounter similar environments today, you need to venture some distance downstream, to Crayford Marshes (Loop 1) or Rainham Marshes (Loop 24), and even these are now largely drained. The area now known as Thamesmead where our walk begins has long been dried out and its watercourses domesticated.

But if you walk up to the heights of Lesnes Abbey and turn back to survey the flat expanse below, stretching towards the river, you may well be able to imagine it in a moister state. It wasn’t entirely inhospitable, though, with evidence of human habitation from the Bronze Age. And it’s possible that some rudimentary drainage and other management was already in place by the time the Romans arrived in 43 CE.

Nonetheless, this long stretch of riverside land between Woolwich and Erith remained undeveloped well into modern times. It was known as Plumstead Marshes in the west and Erith Marshes in the east as it was divided between both parishes.  Back then, this was all in the county of Kent, which I introduced in more detail on my suggested alternative route to Loop 1. Traditionally Kent was subdivided into lathes and then hundreds: both parishes were in the Lathe of Sutton-at-Hone and the hundred of Little and Lessness. The exact division between them was uncertain, but the authorities eventually settled on a more-or-less straight line which persists today, dividing the London Boroughs of Greenwich in the west and Bexley in the east.

Not that it mattered that much, because the marshes have long been managed as a whole, through a succession of three institutional interventions that have shaped their history in a way that’s unique in London. This began in 1178 when the abbey was established on the higher ground immediately to the south. I’ll cover this institution in detail later when we visit its remains: the important point for now is that it was never a wealthy foundation, so the monks looked on the marshes as an economic opportunity, draining them to create productive agricultural land.

The abbey’s vital role in maintaining the marshes was dramatically demonstrated when its dissolution in 1525 was followed in 1527 by two serious breaches in the river defences, inundating over 800 ha. By then, much of the land had been leased, and the abbey estate subsequently passed through various hands, much of it ending up with the Burrell family, with a Commission of Sewers appointed by the Crown taking responsibility for drainage in the 17th century.

The next major development originated upriver in Woolwich. As explained on Ring 1 (and to be explored in more detail on Green Chain D2.1), a gun wharf established in 1667 to protect the Royal Naval Dockyard evolved and expanded over subsequent centuries into a major facility for artillery and explosives on Woolwich Warren, overseen by the Board of Ordnance. George III renamed this the Royal Arsenal in 1805. By then, the site had already begun to expand eastwards into the marshes, initially for rifle ranges, and this expansion continued through the 19th century until the Arsenal controlled practically the whole marsh between Woolwich and Crossness.

New drainage systems were installed, land was infilled with spoil from the digging of the Royal Docks (Ring 15) and hundreds of buildings were constructed. These were linked by what became the densest and most complex private railway network in Britain, reaching its fullest extent during World War I with 237 km of track, more than the Midland Main Line between London and Sheffield. All that open space provided an ideal environment for the testing and storage of munitions, away from built-up areas and with enough room to divide stocks of explosives between various purpose-built magazines spaced well apart to reduce the risk of an accident in one sparking off explosions in its neighbours.

World War I saw the Royal Arsenal at its peak, with more than 80,000 people working on a 5.3 square km site. Activity declined in the interwar years, and though the Arsenal also played a major role in World War II, it began downsizing soon afterwards in response to decline in demand for armaments, new technologies changing the way wars were likely to be fought in future, and new plants opening elsewhere. Some of the production facilities initially switched to making railway wagons and knitting frames, and the first patch of land sold off as surplus to requirements became an industrial estate in 1953. Then Woolwich council bought a chunk to build its Abbey Wood social housing estate near the station of the same name.

By the early 1960s it was clear that much of the rest of the Arsenal land would soon become available too and the question arose of what to do with such a large brownfield site so close to central London. This was an age of utopian town planning, so it’s no surprise that the London County Council (LCC), which had built numerous large suburban housing estates between the wars (including Downham on Ring 3 and Green Chain D4.1, Harold Hill on Loop 21 and Oxhey on Loop 14), proposed a visionary new development.

It was to cover 5.3 square km and accommodate 60,000 people displaced by ‘slum’ clearance in inner southeast London, a new town which would, once the LCC was replaced by the expanded Greater London Council (GLC) in 1965, be entirely within the metropolitan boundary. It was originally known as the Woolwich-Erith Riverside Project and was renamed Thamesmead in 1967 following a newspaper competition, though there were rumours the planners had the name in mind all along and waited until someone else suggested it.

The LCC acquired the land that’s now Thamesmead South, south of the Southern Outfall Sewer, just before it was abolished in 1965, and this became the earliest tranche to be redeveloped. The area to the north was acquired by the GLC, which was keen to take up the project, soon afterwards. Given its previous use, much work was needed to make the land safe, clearing it not only of remaining explosives but the contamination that resulted from their manufacture and storage.

Another concern was flooding, particularly as the Arsenal had been badly affected by the North Sea floods of January 1953. The estate was initially designed with all dwellings at first floor level or higher, connected by walkways with garages and roads beneath. This matched the then-popular approach, originating with Swiss architect Le Corbusier (1887-1965), of grade-separating motor vehicles and pedestrians, though the architect himself advocated putting the vehicles on the upper level. The Brutalist designs, with a heavy emphasis on concrete-faced tower blocks, were another echo of Le Corbusier, as filtered through contemporary Swedish architecture interpreted by postwar British municipal builders.

There was further Swedish influence in the incorporation of green space and water features, the latter conveniently coinciding with the need further to improve drainage. GLC architect Robert Rigg argued that water had a calming and civilising influence which would reduce crime and promote neighbourly relationships. The council attempted to learn from previous schemes that had left new residents feeling alienated and displaced, so prioritised housing for extended family members of existing tenants in the hope of improving community cohesion.

As with many such utopian projects, things didn’t turn out as planned, with numerous compromises for financial and political reasons made along the way. The first phase, around Southmere Lake, built between 1967 and 1972, was described by renowned architecture critic Nikolaus Pevsner as bearing 'little resemblance to the ideal community visualised by its begetters'. Shops and services were inadequate, exacerbated by stalling progress on the completion of the development. Many of the walkways were poorly conceived and failed to follow natural desire lines, so many residents simply walked across the green spaces instead, leaving the walkways underused and unwelcoming, with a reputation for crime and antisocial behaviour.

The estate was still some way from completion in 1985 when its controlling mind was removed through the abolition of the GLC under Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative government. Greenwich and Bexley boroughs lacked capacity to take the whole project on, so it was handed to a not-for-profit quango, Thamesmead Town Ltd (TTL), with many of the rented properties progressively sold to their tenants under the Conservatives’ right-to-buy scheme.

Following concerns about TTL’s performance, management passed in 2000 to a consortium comprising a housing association, a community charity and a private company, which began leasing some of the land for private housing development. In 2014 all three were taken over by one of Britain’s biggest housing associations, Peabody, which has launched a new programme of redevelopment and rebuilding, though this has been criticised for the loss of social homes in favour of more profitable private flats, with accusations of gentrification and needless destruction of existing infrastructure.

Almost sixty years after the first foundations were dug, Thamesmead remains a work in progress, with large areas of land still undeveloped. But though it’s still ugly in places, it’s not looking quite so grim as it once did, and the Brutalist architecture has at least slightly mellowed. Its green and blue spaces, though they might not quite have fulfilled their intended potential, are still among its most appealing features and the Green Chain makes good use of them. And though most of the Arsenal legacy has long since been effaced, and it’s very difficult to match the modern street pattern with what was there before, there are some intriguing remnants if you know where to look for them. Thamesmead might even be a better place to walk in than to live in.

A good source of information about the estate today is Peabody’s dedicated website Thamesmead Now, which includes details of community activities and facilities. There’s extensive background on the Royal Arsenal’s tenure of the marshes on the copiously detailed but somewhat chaotically presented Royal Arsenal History website.

Thamesmead Town and Riverside


Thamesmere, seen from the Thamesmere Leisure Centre.

One of the most signal failures of the Thamesmead project is the ongoing lack of a railway station. The nearest is Abbey Wood, a good distance from the original development: it’s now a busy interchange on the Elizabeth Line but until recently was a minor National Rail station with relatively infrequent services. When Thamesmead was designed, the prevailing view was that public transport even in cities like London was in terminal decline and soon everyone would drive themselves around in cars. Ringing and bisecting the site with fast main roads took priority. As a large, new development jammed up against the river some distance from existing centres, Thamesmead was already in danger of seeming isolated, and the poor public transport and encircling roads greatly reinforce the impression that it’s a place apart, cut off from the rest of London. As we’ll see, the roads even divide the estate from itself.

For many decades, hopes were pinned on a new London Underground line initially known as the Fleet Line. Planned in the late 1960s, this was to take over the Bakerloo Line branch from Stanmore then run in a new tunnel through the West End to Charing Cross, east through the City to Fenchurch Street then under the river to Surrey Docks where it would absorb parts of the East London Line (now the Windrush Line) to New Cross and Lewisham. The plans were changed in 1973, re-routing the planned line from Surrey Docks to the Isle of Dogs, North Greenwich, Silvertown, Woolwich and Thamesmead, which would be served by no less than three stations.

The first phase of what was now known as the Jubilee Line opened in 1979 as far as Charing Cross, where it stalled due to financial issues and an increasingly unsupportive political environment. The Thatcher government was hostile to public transport and to large-scale public undertakings, particularly those under the direction of left-leaning urban councils that would be operated by unionised labour. The Jubilee Line was finally extended in 1999, prompted by developments at Canary Wharf and the Millennium Dome (now the O2) in North Greenwich, but its eastern extremity was deflected northwards to Stratford for better connectivity, and at least partly to avoid the expense of tunnelling through Thamesmead’s difficult marshy soil.

Other hopes were also dashed. The Thames Gateway Bridge between Beckton and Thamesmead, proposed in 2004, was to carry an extension of the Docklands Light Railway (DLR) as well as a road, but was cancelled in 2008 amid spiralling costs and environmental concerns. In 2014, when the extension of what’s now the London Overground Suffragette Line to Barking Riverside was agreed, Thamesmead residents lobbied for a continuation under the river, but Transport for London (TfL) rejected this as too expensive. Prospects currently seem a little more positive, as TfL is now planning an extension of the DLR under the river from Beckton to a new Thamesmead station, linking with guided busways to Woolwich and Abbey Wood. But the scheme is only partly funded and won’t be completed until ‘the early 2030s' at the earliest, at least 65 years after the first tenants moved in.

For the moment, then, most Green Chain walkers will head to Abbey Wood then catch the bus to the start of the walk described here. This has got a little easier recently, as the main entrance of the rebuilt Abbey Wood station leads directly out to the bus stops on Harrow Manorway. Since early 2024, bus options have included the SL3, part of the TfL’s new Superloop, a chain of interconnecting orbital express bus services, which takes you almost non-stop to Thamesmead Town Centre. This is on the Plumstead side of the estate, which became part of the Metropolitan Borough of Woolwich in 1900 and the London Borough of Greenwich in 1965 (known as the Royal Borough since 2012).

The bus pulls up in a side street by the Thamesmere Leisure Centre, which also houses the Claude Ramsey Library, named after a long-serving Greenwich councillor who died in 1997. This rather undistinguished brick building was opened in 1988 and almost closed in 2024 as the council was struggling to afford the replacement of an ageing and failing heating system for the swimming pool, but it’s been saved by a Sport England grant. When it’s open, you can still access the upper part of its waterside terrace through a passage on the left, providing a view of Thamesmere itself, of which more later. Sadly, the lower terrace is in a state of disrepair and closed for safety reasons.

Thamesmead Clock Tower and water channel.

But where’s the promised town centre? Something just about qualifying for that description is around the corner, and worth a look before you set off: early Green Chain leaflets directed you here as a prelude to the main walk. It’s a modest urban square surrounded by small shops, cafés and a pub, the Cutty Sark, not much for a town of 60,000 people. It’s also awkwardly placed on the edge of the development, though the planned Thamesmead Central would have been adjacent (the DLR station will likely be further south).

It’s another measure of the lack of planning foresight that even this was an afterthought, added in response to complaints of a lack of shops and services and opened in the early 1980s. There’s more to it than meets the eye, with bigger shops and a large supermarket round the back, more strategically placed for the car park, but this detracts from the smaller businesses on what should be a much more flourishing central square.

The square has three features of interest. One of the drainage canals runs along the far side, part of a network that stretches to 7.5 km. There’s an inviting waterside walkway, not part of the Green Chain, that will take you south towards Hawksmoor Park, but only a short distance north: the channel feeds Thamesmere Lake, which is currently out of bounds. On the other side of the canal are two early 19th century cannons: these and several others which once belonged to the Arsenal were found on the site during redevelopment.

More prominent, though, is the clock tower, which is a mix of old and new. The brick tower is contemporaneous with its surroundings, but the cupola and clock that surmount it are much older than Thamesmead. They originally stood atop an 18th century extension to the Tudor Great Storehouse at the Royal Naval Dockyard in Deptford. Their exact age is uncertain: they were likely added sometime after the building itself and are first mentioned in 1880.

The dockyard had long been in commercial use as Convoys Wharf when the building was demolished in 1981: the clock and cupola were almost scrapped but local campaigning saved them. For a few years they were kept on a corner of the site, under constant threat of destruction as an inconvenient nuisance. Then someone had the bright idea that they’d make a good centrepiece for Thamesmead, so just before its abolition the GLC had them transported by boat from Deptford and restored. They were installed here in 1986.

The best way to connect on foot with the main Green Chain is the Thames Path. The route towards the river takes you along Linton Mead, a drive and then footpath with a fenced area on the left. This encloses Thamesmere, one of the development’s four large lakes. It’s also known as the Pump Lake, as it’s connected to the Thames by a pumping station with four Archimedes screws which together empty 2.4 t of water collected from around the site into the river every second. Except for the leisure centre terrace, the lake and its surrounds have never been open to the public, though you can glimpse the pumping station from the path. Peabody is planning a major development, Thamesmead Waterfront, which will encompass the remaining areas of open land as well the town centre and the lake, so better access may follow in the next couple of decades.

Thamesmead Riverside: view across Barking Reach.

Over the river wall, a magnificent view of the river Thames at Barking Reach opens before you. The giant guillotine-like structure on the opposite bank is the flood barrier at the mouth of Barking Creek, the lower reach of the river Roding. Operative since 1983, it’s a vital part of the flood defences downstream of the Thames Barrier. The 38 m wide barrage is normally kept at the top of two 40 m towers to allow access for shipping. Downstream of this, to the right, you can see the recent development of Barking Riverside.

We’ve encountered the river Thames many times in London Underfoot, and since I eventually plan to cover the Thames Path, I’ll reserve a more detailed introduction until then. Suffice to say it’s the longest river entirely in England, rising near Kemble on the edge of the Cotswolds and flowing for 346 km via Oxford, Reading, Windsor and London to its official end between Gravesend and Tilbury where it’s considered to join the North Sea. It’s unarguably London’s most important natural feature, the reason why the city is here and still an essential part of its life.

It's possible to track the entire river on foot. The Thames Path National Trail, one of a small family of nationally supported walking trails waymarked with an acorn design, opened from the source to the Thames Barrier in 1998. Greenwich and Bexley councils opened the Thames Path Extension from the Barrier via Woolwich and Thamesmead to Crayford Marshes, not officially part of the National Trail and waymarked with its own Thames Barge logo, in 2002.

Then in 2022 the England Coast Path (since renamed the King Charles III England Coast Path) opened from Woolwich as far as the Isle of Grain in Kent as part of an ongoing project to create a National Trail along the entire coast of England. So the short section of riverside path we follow is now dotted with acorns too. The path itself predates the designations: it was created as a riverside promenade for Thamesmead in the late 1970s, but was originally isolated, closed off at both ends. It boasts three elevated viewing platforms atop the river wall, backing onto the housing of Greenhaven Drive, and at the last of these a fingerpost indicates we’ve finally reached the official start of section 1 of the Green Chain Walk.

Thamesmead North


Thamesmead: Crossways Lake.

The trail turns inland, through a series of green spaces in Thamesmead North, the second phase of the development, largely built in the mid-1970s. The first of these is the petite Thamesmead Riverside Park with its extended viewing platform, a chance to admire the river once more before we leave it. We’re still just in Greenwich here, but a few paces after our route joins the path along the left of the green strip, it crosses into Bexley in what was once Erith parish.

In Arsenal days, the area we’re passing through was known as Berber, as the rail system that traversed it used tracks recycled from the short-lived Suakin-Berber military railway in Sudan. This was begun in 1885 during the Mahdist War but abandoned after only three months when Britain suspended hostilities against Sudanese nationalists led by the Mahdi, Muhammad Ahmed. The truce was later broken and the war continued, but the rail project wasn’t resumed. The Filled Shell Stores, a row of five massive rail-connected warehouses, once stood to the west (right) where the housing of Nickleby Close now is, while on the other side Castilion School opened in 1985 on the site of various ancillary buildings.

Once through an underpass carrying Crossway, the loop-shaped main road around Thamesmead North, you follow the Greenwich-Bexley boundary for a short distance, not that there’s any evidence: all the public infrastructure is simply branded Thamesmead and/or Peabody. This stretch is also the original route of Harrow Manorway, once one of the few roads through the marshes, though the name has since been transferred to a modern successor which we’ll shortly encounter. The park here is Manorway Green, most of which lies west (left) of the path. Across the grass is a raised area with play equipment, the site of one of the cordite magazines or ‘tumps’, known as Tump 47 or Magazine 9.

The trail soon turns decisively into the London Borough of Bexley. Erith parish became an Urban District in 1894 and a Municipal Borough in 1938; in 1965 it was merged with Bexley municipal borough, Crayford urban district and the Sidcup part of Chislehurst and Sidcup urban district to create the current London borough. Before then, all these areas were in Kent, so you’d have been leaving London here. I’ve covered Erith itself in more detail on Loop 1 and we’ll revisit on Green Chain D3.

The trail crosses a drainage canal, the Harrow Canal. There was once a natural delta of channels through the marshes formed by one of London’s near-forgotten rivers, sometimes known as the Plumstead River, though its older name is the Wogebourne. It rises in Oxleas Woods and runs roughly northeast for around 8 km through the eastern part of Plumstead. Its main confluence with the Thames was midway between the last viewing platform and Crossness Point, a little further downstream, and it was once used to mark the parish boundary. Tracing a clear course for its lower reaches is now impossible as it’s hopelessly entangled with Thamesmead’s drainage system. But the Wogebourne is never far away from the first stage of today’s walk, and we’ll tread very close to its source.

You soon cross another watercourse into Moat Gardens, an enclosed area which has more to it than immediately meets the eye. This was the site of Tump 52, or Magazine 13, built in 1897 to hold 100 t of cordite, the smokeless explosive propellant that since its invention in 1889 had replaced traditional gunpowder in everything from rifle cartridges to large artillery shells. Storage was a major safety challenge: at its peak at the end of World War I, the Arsenal held 40,000 t of explosives, enough to flatten much of southeast London. The tumps or bulk magazines were one solution: circular brick buildings with fragile roofs designed to deflect any blast upwards, surrounded by bunkers and walls to absorb lateral force and located at a safe distance from other installations.

Though the tump itself has been replaced by a sports court, the layout of the site is obvious: the waterway we crossed connects to the canal to form a continuous moat for extra protection. The Arsenal had 16 moated magazines like this, and another 28 topped with mounds. There’s still evidence of a few of them, including a near-complete one, Tump 53, in a nature reserve south of the town centre, though off our route.

The trail leaves Moat Gardens over the moat again and soon meets and follows another arm of the drainage network, the Crossways Canal, arguably the first stretch of today’s route alongside the Wogebourne. Then it’s once again under Crossway into Crossway Park, one of the three biggest parks in Thamesmead. As well as the large grassy sports fields opening to the right, the park has plenty of trees and some wilder areas, with more trees and other features added in recent improvements. A little further on, the water widens into Crossway Lake, created by a dam at the far end. Work to create a more natural environment here has been rewarded with birds including herons and reed warblers choosing it as a nesting site.

Across Eastern Avenue


Making the best of Eastern Avenue.

The Green Chain fingerpost at the top of the lake shows branching paths, a response to Thamesmead’s flawed design. In 1865, back in Arsenal days, the marshes were bisected by an embankment carrying the Southern Outfall Sewer, of which more shortly. The sewer would have been relatively easy to surmount, but in the early 1970s, as part of the preparation for Thamesmead North, the severance was reinforced by a parallel pedestrian-free dual carriageway, Eastern Way, with limited crossing points.

This blocks off the direct line south, so the Green Chain’s devisers resorted to providing two alternative routes using the nearest available crossings to the west and east. Both have their pros and cons: the eastern alternative is shorter, quieter and a little greener, the western 400 m longer and more urbanised, but from a historical perspective it offers the more authentic experience of hardcore Brutalism and a classic view of Southmere Lake. You can always walk both: I’ve suggested a way of doing this with minimal retracing of steps.

The eastern option turns away from the lake. Past the five-a-side court, Tump 99 once stood in the area behind the trees on the left. The surroundings become quite wooded, and on the right by a litter bin, a few paces on an unsurfaced path will take you to Crossway Community Orchard. It’s been here for a while but was revived in 2019 with new fruit tree plantings and a willow nursery and is now surrounded by a ‘dead hedge’ with living arches created from trained tree branches. Further on, a broad pedestrian underpass runs beneath Crossway, a thickly graffitied expanse of concrete that the Ramblers’ guidance describes as ‘a daunting location at night’.

On the other side, the Green Chain climbs a ramp to an embankment with a path running along its crest, and if you’ve walked Ring 14 between Bow and Beckton the surroundings here may seem familiar. You’re atop the Southern Outfall Sewer, the southerly sibling to the Northern Outfall Sewer. Both have been promoted since the 1980s as walking and cycling routes: while the northern one is called the Greenway, this one is the Ridgeway. The sewer was opened in 1865 as part of Joseph Bazalgette’s sewer system implemented in the aftermath of the Great Stink of 1858, as described in my entry for the Ring.

The Ridgeway at Thamesmead: London's other sewer walk.

The channel runs underground from Deptford, where it collects flows from Herne Hill, Balham and Putney, emerging as the present embankment near Plumstead station and running in a near-straight line for around 4.3 km to the Crossness Pumping Station on the Thames. Like the Abbey Mills Pumping Station on the northern sewer, this one is a landmark, a Grade I-listed building described by Pevsner as ‘a Victorian cathedral of ironwork’ and still complete with its four beam engines, thought to be the largest remaining examples of their kind in the world. Also incorporating a short length of restored narrow gauge steam railway, it’s intermittently open to the public (advance booking required) and well worth a look, but a little way off our route to the left. We’ll pass by more closely on the Thames Path.

The surface section of the Ridgeway is rather shorter than the Greenway, and rather narrower and more overgrown, doing a good impression of a country track. The Green Chain only uses it for a few metres before descending to the parallel road on the other side. This is the main drive to the pumping station and the route for public access, known appropriately as Bazelgette Way. You soon reach the northeast corner of Southmere Lake where both alternatives merge again. It’s here that we encounter our first Green Chain information panel: there will be many more of these on this and other walks.

The western alternative continues past the lake then follows Eastern Way, which soon rises to a viaduct decorated with a spectacular 2023 mural by street artist Lours, entitled Make the City Green Again. Opposite is another impressive mural featuring a dog, a stick, a squirrel and two robins in perfect balance, the work of Woskerski and added as part of the London Mural Festival in 2024.  There are several more pieces of street art in this area if you keep your eyes peeled: someone really should map them all. Across the grass to the right is a wildflower meadow created in 2021, a particular delight in spring and early summer.

In contrast, the steps ahead take you into one of the areas where the estate’s original aesthetic is best preserved. You cross to South Thamesmead on one of the few pedestrian links, the A Bridge, built in the late 1960s as an early example of concrete cable-stayed construction that may be the first of its type in the UK. It cuts across an elevated interchange where Eastern Way, running west-east, meets the north-south alignment of the modern incarnation of Harrow Manorway, which converges with the original line here. The view from the bridge, walled in by a roundabout and with Eastern Way roaring beneath, is an object lesson in poor design that prioritises cars at the expense of walkers.

As Harrow Manorway carries the boundary here, we briefly dodge back into Greenwich at the top of the steps and re-enter Bexley on the other side of the dual carriageway. The western alternative crosses the Ridgeway then descends to Bazelgette Way. The London College of Performing Arts occupies the space under the Harrow Manorway viaduct, and, if you detour a short distance right under the road, you’ll find the Link Pocket Park, just on the Bexley side of the original alignment of Manorway, a neat little space dotted with curious mosaics, popular with lunching college students in fine weather. The Green Chain as originally devised headed straight to the northwest corner of Southmere from here, but at the time of writing this was closed for redevelopment, so you’ll need to join the lakeside a little further east and follow it to the junction with the eastern alternative.

If you follow my suggested loop of both routes, you’ll see rather more of the Ridgeway, walk straight across the flower meadow and only retrace your steps by crossing and recrossing the A Bridge.

Thamesmead South


Binsey Walk, Thamesmead, early 2025, a little changed from Stanley Kubrick's day.

Southmere, dug in the mid-1960s as part of the first phase of the development, is the biggest of Thamesmead’s five lakes and easily the most iconic, with its fountain evoking Geneva’s Jet d’eau with either admirable audacity or breathtaking hubris depending on your point of view. Picture editors habitually illustrate pieces about the estate with stock photos of the four tower blocks on Hartslock Drive taken from across the lake. When I last visited, this view was still much as it was when originally created, but Peabody’s builders were hard at work all around, so while the blocks are slated to stay for the moment, their context may well change dramatically.

This area has provided a distinctive location for various films, beginning with Stanley Kubrick’s controversial 1972 adaptation of Anthony Burgess’s dystopian novel A Clockwork Orange. The film depicts a near-future authoritarian Britain of unemployment, urban decay and disaffected youth, centring on Alex, a violent teenage gang leader with a curious penchant for the music of Beethoven who is forcibly subjected to aversion therapy. It’s hardly flattering to Thamesmead’s architects that Kubrick chose it as the perfect backdrop for his bleak vision, though another consideration was that it was still largely unoccupied and much easier to film in than the average busy urban location.

Alex lived with his long-suffering parents at ‘Municipal Flat Block 18A, Linear North’, filmed at the Tavy Bridge Centre on Wagtail Walk, near the lake’s southwest corner and a little off our walk. Before Thamesmead Town Centre, this was the closest the estate got to a focus. It was demolished in 2007 and has since been replaced by the private development around Cygnet Square that, though a little mellower on the eye, is considerably less distinctive and inspired.

Still recognisable, though, is the setting of the well-known scene at ‘Flatblock Marina’ where Alex pushes one of his fellow gang members (or ‘droogs’ in Nadsat, the largely Russian-derived futuristic slang invented by Burgess) into Southmere Lake. This was filmed on Binsey Walk on the west shore and used to be directly in line of sight for Green Chain walkers. At the time of writing, the building site is blocking off access: you can still reach it by detouring right from the Lakeside Centre past the outdoor gym, though the distinctive low-rise blocks which once lined it have been demolished.

Thamesmead has featured in many other films and TV productions. Beautiful Thing (1996), Hettie MacDonald’s film of Jonathan Harvey’s play, is almost a riposte to A Clockwork Orange, in which many of the same locations become the summery setting for an ultimately feelgood teenage gay romance set to the music of the Mamas & the Papas. More recently it’s heavily featured in The Misfits, a Channel 4 TV SF series about young offenders who acquire superpowers. But A Clockwork Orange will I suspect remain its signature screen role.

The western alternative passes a Brutalist building familiar to viewers of Misfits, the low-slung Lakeside Centre, with a waterside terrace that’s usually open to Green Chain walkers. It was built as a factory making materials for the first phase of construction but was always intended to be converted into a community centre and pub-restaurant. It’s since been through several incarnations and is currently run by charity the Bow Arts Trust, with a café, the Thamesmead Social, events and meeting spaces and 38 artists’ studios. Among the artists in residence is Gary Drostle, one of whose sculptures inspired by Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem ‘Ozymandias’ is installed on the terrace. Past this is a boathouse with a slipway much favoured by swans and geese, so watch where you’re treading.

Gary Drostle's 'Ozymandias': Look on my works, ye mighty.

Immediately after the two routes rejoin by the information board, you cross the channel where the Crossways Canal, or river Wogebourne if you prefer, emerges from the lake, and follow the east bank. The extensive green space of Southmere Park opens to the left: just past the bridge and up the slope on the left is the Southmere Tiny Forest, planted in 2022 with 600 young trees of 18 deciduous native species in a 200 square metre semicircular plot, with provision for a mini outdoor classroom and seating area. Beyond this, the park is attractively landscaped, crossed by undulating paths and dotted with trees and shrubs. The modern structures of the pumping station, including a wind turbine, loom in the distance beyond this, though the heritage can’t be seen from here. On the other side, numerous piers provide views of birds on the lake: 74 different species have been observed since 2014.

At the southwest corner of the lake, the path reaches a recently improved plaza, Southmere Square, then climbs a straight embankment to follow its crest, with a wooded hillside soon visible ahead. This isn’t just decorative and recreational but a safety feature, intended to provide an evacuation route in case of flooding. Subsequent improvements have turned it into a linear park, with play equipment and plantings. A footbridge links two sections of embankment across Yarnton Way, clearly showing the original conception of separating walkers and cars, except that there’s a small parade of shops at ground level to the left, some of the few included in the original plans.

The precautions are obvious in the low-rise blocks on the left once past the road. They have vacant ground floors and walkways at first floor level giving direct access to the embankment. At a little square, a short detour off the trail to the left will take you to another green community project, the Thamesmead Edible Garden, opened in 2021, which grows a selection of edible plants and fruit trees as well as flowers. It’s a charming space with plants labelled on reused roof tiles, playfully offsetting the surrounding flats. Beyond this, older semi-detached houses are visible in the streets over to the right, a sign we’re leaving Thamesmead for the older residential area of Abbey Wood. 

Thamesmead's Edible Garden: truly scrumptious.

Abbey Wood and Lesnes Abbey


Lesnes Abbey Viewpoint.

The embankment ends at a footbridge across the North Kent Line railway, built by the South Eastern Railway. The company began in 1846 by taking over the Thames and Medway Canal and using its tunnel near Higham to run trains between Gravesend and Strood. In 1849 it extended to London by building the present line from Gravesend, roughly parallel to the Thames, to Charlton then via Blackheath, Lewisham and New Cross to join the existing London & Greenwich Railway into London Bridge. The line included a station at Abbey Wood, but with a restricted service considered sufficient for what was then a tiny hamlet of only 100 inhabitants amid largely empty countryside.

Some development followed, with a few streets immediately southwest of the station forming something of a town centre by the end of the 19th century, but the area remained poorly connected, and overshadowed by the nearby Arsenal lands, the frequent source of disturbing noise from artillery tests. George Duckworth, one of the researchers into social conditions in London for the reformer Charles Booth, commented in 1900 that ‘the trains are so infrequent and unpunctual that even Woolwich workers are shy of living at Abbey Wood’.

In 1900, in response to growing demand for homes particularly for Arsenal workers, the Royal Arsenal Co-operative Society converted the farmland they’d acquired to the southwest into building land, laying the first bricks of what would become over 1,000 homes on the Bostall Estate. This encouraged the extension of electric trams from Woolwich in 1908, which stimulated private development. As already mentioned, Woolwich council began to turn former Arsenal land into homes with the Abbey Wood Estate, northwest of the station, completed in 1959. And then came Thamesmead.

Abbey Wood station is now a far cry from the rural halt visited by Duckworth. In 2017 it was extensively rebuilt as part of the Crossrail project, joining the Thameslink network in 2018 and becoming the terminus of the Elizabeth Line’s southeast branch in 2022. One curious feature is that the station straddles Bexley and Greenwich boroughs: the boundary runs through the concourse just behind the gateline.

But there’s an even earlier history to Abbey Wood which explains its name. In early medieval times, the area on what’s now the Bexley side of the boundary formed part of Lesnes or Lessness. This was a relatively large and important settlement to the north of Erith, the traditional meeting place of the Little and Lessness hundred of Kent. The village centre was in today’s Belvedere and is still sometimes known as Lessness Heath. The origin of the name is uncertain as it’s been through various spellings over the years: ‘ness’ is normally a riverside feature, a point or promontory, while the first element could refer to a burial mound or a shelter.

After the 1066 Norman Conquest, Lesnes became part of the extensive holdings of Bishop Odo, who we’ve met many times in London Underfoot, and was still in his possession in 1086 when visited by the Domesday surveyors. In 1178, Richard de Lucy (1089-1179) took a large tranche of land to the west to found the Augustinian Abbey of St Mary and St Thomas the Martyr, or Lesnes Abbey, on high ground overlooking the marshes and surrounded by extensive woodlands.

De Lucy’s family was from Lucé in Normandy, thus the name. He rose to the position of joint Chief Justiciar of England, effectively the first minister, under Henry II in 1154, becoming the sole holder of the office in 1168. Henry regularly clashed with the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket (1119?-1170) on the English church’s relationship to Rome. Their disagreement came to a head in 1170 when Becket tried to block the king’s attempt to crown his eldest son, also called Henry, as his successor.

Four knights, acting on one of the king’s bad-tempered remarks, confronted Becket on his home turf of Canterbury Cathedral, an encounter which culminated in the challengers hacking the archbishop to death with their swords. Almost immediately, Becket was venerated as a martyr and was canonised in 1174. That same year, a contrite Henry humbled himself in public penance at Becket’s shrine in the cathedral.

De Lucy’s role in these events is unclear, but by some accounts he felt partially responsible for Becket’s death, resigning from his political role and founding the abbey as a form of penance. He retired to Lesnes in 1179 and died later that year. His descendants continued their association with the site: his great-granddaughter Rose (or Roesia) of Dover grew up here and requested that her heart was buried in the precincts when she died in 1261. By some accounts, the burial place was uncovered during excavations in 1939.

The abbey was a major local landowner but often struggled financially and never became a rich and powerful institution on the scale of some others in the London area, like Barking, Merton or Stratford (visited on Ring 14). It was this relative impoverishment that prompted the monks to drain and farm the marshes, to add further productive land to the estate, but keeping that land dry proved a constant burden. The community remained small and in 1525 became one of the earliest such institutions closed during the reign of Henry VIII. This preceded Henry’s break with Rome and the large-scale Dissolution of the Monasteries in the following decade: Pope Clement approved Cardinal Wolsey’s request to suppress religious houses with fewer than eight members.

Nearly all the monastery buildings were demolished almost immediately, and some of the masonry is said to have been recycled to build Hall Place in nearby Bexley, visited on Loop 1 (and Green Chain D2.2). The site subsequently passed through several private hands and was bequeathed to Christ’s Hospital school in 1633. The foundations were buried and the land used for farming. The only original building left standing was the abbot’s lodging, which was used as a farmhouse until it was demolished and replaced with a new building for that purpose in 1845.

The monastery was first excavated by the Woolwich and District Antiquarian Society in 1909 and 1910, and some of the finds from the time are now in Erith Library. The remaining structures were then backfilled so farming could continue. In 1930, Christ’s Hospital sold the estate, including the monastery site and surrounding woodland, to the London County Council, and it was opened as a public park in 1931. Further excavations followed, and in 1951 all the farm buildings were demolished, with the abbey remains exposed to view and partially restored. Management passed from the LCC to the GLC and, in 1986, to Bexley council.

Restored doorway from Lesnes Abbey cloisters.

Now a scheduled ancient monument, the abbey has long been a major feature of interest on the Green Chain but is looking even more splendid after a makeover with £4.2 million of National Lottery cash in 2016. It’s an intriguing combination of heritage attraction, nature area and well-used local park, and was one of only six sites in London achieving Local Favourite status in the Favourite Parks awards in 2022. The site has an informative dedicated website and an active Friends group.

A pedestrian viaduct with appropriate decorations takes the trail from the railway footbridge direct to the abbey across a patch of green and a road. Off to the right here is a dipping pool, and just past the first junction on the left is a picturesque black mulberry tree which is rather younger than the abbey. It was in the garden of the farmhouse converted from the former abbot’s lodgings. A plaque beside the tree claims it was planted in the early 17th century as part of James I’s attempt to create a British silk industry, which famously failed as the king mistakenly imported the wrong species of mulberry. This history is questioned by Peter Coles on the Morus Londinium website, who argues the tree doesn’t look old enough and suggests instead it was planted as a fruit tree in the late 18th or early 19th century.

The abbey ruins spread out behind the tree, the layout of the institution still obvious. Constructed in Kentish ragstone, flint and chalk, they include fragments of wall that reach 2.5 m in height, the remains of a door and lancet windows. On-site interpretation boards provide more detailed information, but the first buildings you pass close to the path are the former brewhouse and kitchen, with the refectory behind them. South of these is the cloister, entered via a surviving Gothic doorway, and south of this the abbey church, its east-facing cruciform shape and the two lines of bases for the pillars that once held up its vaulted ceiling clearly visible along its 70 m nave. The monks’ dormitory or dorter stretches out from the northeast of the complex towards the site of the abbot’s lodging. On the far side of the ruins is a viewing platform facing towards central London, equipped with mock-up Gothic window frames.

On the right is the newly built Lesnes Abbey Lodge with a small café, toilets and classroom. The best way to break the walk here is to leave right at the junction just before the lodge and take the main path to New Road, passing a log carving of a monk, one of several such carvings added in 2016: there are others on the main route. The area behind this is an arboretum of almost 100 trees, both native and exotic: there’s an interactive map on the Lesnes Abbey Woods website.

A Lesnes Abbey abbot monk as conceived by Tom Harvey.

Through an elaborate gate, one of several designed by Trish Hawes of Mei Loci as another of the recent improvements, and across the road, you follow a fenced path signed as the Pilgrims Path, leading to another area of the open space. Off to the left just before another gateway feature is a monument to radical designer William Morris (1834-96), installed in 2001 by Bexley Civic Society. Morris designed and lived in the Red House in Bexleyheath, some distance from here, but according to the stone passed this spot regularly on his way to and from Abbey Wood station. If this is also your destination, it's just a short step along Harrow Manor Way.

Ahead on the main route is the Monk’s Garden, a 2016 recreation on the site of a 1950s formal garden but including a selection of plants the monks may well have grown for use in the infirmary (this was a separate building east of the dorter and no longer visible). The plants include sage, which according to medieval herbals cleansed the body of ‘venom and pestilence’ and whitened teeth; betony, something of a cure-all; hyssop, for chest infections and bruising; and cumin, for skin and eye complaints. There are beehive sculptures acknowledging other monastic activities and a central feature that sprouts a model of a bishop’s crozier, a design which was in turn based on a shepherd’s crook. The spiral design of the crozier is echoed in the shape of its mounting.

Just inside the wood beyond the garden is a fingerpost marking the first of numerous junctions where the Green Chain Walk branches. We’ve been following Section 1, which ends here, so we pick up Section 2, which starts in Erith and joins from the left.

Lesnes Abbey Woods


Pine Pond, Lesnes Abbey Woods

Lesnes Abbey Woods is the first of a succession of substantial ancient woodlands which will dominate the rest of today’s walk. It’s a Local Nature Reserve covering 88 ha, mainly woodland, some of it likely continuously wooded since the ice retreated around 11,700 years ago, with areas of remnant heathland which we’ll discover in a future walk. The trees are mainly oak and birch with sweet chestnuts introduced in Roman times as a food source. Just as the abbey precincts were a working farm, this was a working woodland until the LCC converted it into a park.

Among its many attractions are its seasonal floral displays: visit in spring and you’ll be dazzled by daffodils and, later, native bluebells. Then there are the fossil beds, over to the left as you enter the woods, a 6.3 ha Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) rich with evidence of life in the late Palaeocene and early Eocene epochs, 50 to 60 million years ago. The remains of over 40 species of mammal have been found here, as well as reptiles, fish and one of the only two Palaeocene birds known in Britain. So copious are the fossils that there’s even a designated area where members of the public can dig informally, subject to certain restrictions.

Tom Harvey's Lady of the Woods

A little past the junction, keep your eyes peeled for the Lady of the Woods, arguably the most beautiful of six fine tree carvings on the site, set a little back from the path behind a fence. All the pieces were made in 2016 by Tom ‘Carver’ Harvey and are ‘direct’ carvings made without preliminary models using chainsaws and chisels. Further on in a clearing is a rather different tree-based sculpture, the Data Tree, created by Jonathan Wright for the Estuary Festival in 2021, commemorating the 1381 Peasants’ Revolt which partly mustered in the woods and at the abbey.

A dead oak stump is crowned with a rotating steel structure resembling a fingerpost, with six spokes, decorated with figurines and texts. The imagery was developed in consultation with the community and all of it has local references: look out for among others a monk, a rowing boat and seal representing river life, a pike from the abbey’s crest, a cog nodding to the pumping station, a shark’s tooth for the fossil beds, Rose of Dover’s heart and references to Kate Bush, who’ll we talk about later.

On the right just before New Road is the most recent addition to the site at the time of writing: The Clearing, opened in 2024 on a former council yard as a woodland craft centre and performance space. Designed by the delightfully named Wonky Architects, it’s made from recycled wood and shipping containers, with a large parachute that can be unfurled to create a sheltered outdoor area.

The woods continue on the other side of the road, where you pass three ponds. The first two, Fountain Ponds, are likely natural, and may be dry in summer. The larger Pine Pond, also known as Hurst Pond, is partially surrounded by railings and has a particularly peaceful and secluded atmosphere. It was dug as a decorative feature of the grounds of Hurst House which once stood on the south of the site, just along the next road, Hurst Lane. This was open to the public as a pleasure garden prior to the creation of the park. Another of Harvey’s tree sculptures is a short detour to the right just after the pond: it’s known as the Owl as that bird surmounts it, but there are numerous other representations of woodland species to spot, including an ingeniously placed bat.

The Green Chain once ran straight down Hurst Lane but has been diverted through the 1960s housing estate to the south to reach a safe crossing. The borough and former parish boundary runs north-south along Knee Hill here so in crossing the road we return from Bexley to Greenwich and the area known as Bostall in former Plumstead parish.

Bostall Heath


A particularly secluded corner of Bostall Woods. Spot the highwayman.

Bostall, the name meaning 'woody heath' or possibly ‘safe place’, was formerly one of the wastes of the manor of Plumstead, managed as a common. The monks of St Augustine’s in Canterbury were lords of the manor, on and off, between 960 and the Dissolution in 1539. It passed to the Boughton family and then to John Michel, who gifted it to the Trustees of Queen’s College Oxford when he died in 1736. Confusingly, some of the land to the northwest was also known as Boston Heath after Boston Farm which once stood there.

The college inclosed the heath in 1866, provoking the wrath of commoners and other locals. The inclosure was declared illegal by a court, but the owners nonetheless attempted to build housing on it, appointing a local solicitor and builder to implement the project. Riotous scenes followed, in which the local agents’ homes were trashed: the authorities drafted in 200 extra police and called out the fire brigade to hose down the mob. The college then lost a second court case, and in 1878, an act of parliament transferred 63 ha to the Metropolitan Board of Works, predecessor of the London Country Council, for public use for the sum of £5,500.

The area soon became a popular destination for day trippers as the inhabitants of an ever more crowded capital sought countryside retreats close by. J J Sexby, the first chief officer of the LCC Parks Department, who contributed to the design of numerous much-loved parks, described the heath and adjoining woodland in the late 1890s as 'the most attractive of the Kentish commons…every other common of the Metropolis, with the possible exception of Epping Forest, must yield to them the palm of beauty'.

Some big late Victorian houses were built around the heath, including Bostall House or Shobnells in the northern section with a substantial separate lodge, Bostall Lodge. This patch was part of the property acquired by the Coop and became known as the Coop Woods. It was gifted in 1988 to a local charity to build the Greenwich and Bexley Community Hospice, with the original house demolished in 1994. The lodge is now a private hospital in a modern building called Cygnet Bostall House.

In the late 19th century, the woodland adjoining the heath to the south, now known as Bostall Woods but formerly Old Park Wood, became a private estate belonging to merchant Julian Goldsmith centred on a mansion called Old Park House. Goldsmith sold it to the LCC in 1892 and the joint site was opened to the public on Whit Monday 1893. The wastes formerly extended further to the south but most of this area was developed in the 1930s.

Today the 159 ha site is a patchwork of ancient woodland, secondary woodland growing on former heath and more domesticated mowed fields and sports facilities, with some remnants of heathland where gorse, broom and heather grow, this last a rarity in the borough. Following a grant in 2006, some areas of heathland have been restored. As at Lesnes Abbey, the ancient woodland is dominated by oak, while the newer woodland is mainly birch.  The LCC planted numerous Scots pines in the 1890s but few of these have survived. The site has its own Friends group.

Knee Hill: not all signing on the Green Chain Walk is this reassuring.

The short length of Green Chain Walk on the Greenwich side of Knee Hill must be one of the best-signed stretches of walking trail anywhere: numerous surplus wooden Green Chain wayposts have been repurposed as a fence separating the path from the traffic. You then follow part of the old drive to Bostall House before cutting through secondary woodland and a patch of remnant heath to Bostall Hill and the largest remaining open area. Opposite and to the left is Clam Field, a slightly later addition to the public space bought in 1894 as a recreation ground. But our way is right and across part of the heath proper, now an open green surrounded by trees.

The path heads for a Green Chain information board on the far side, clustering with a car park and cricket nets and with a bowling green opposite. Slightly off route to the right of the car park entrance along Longleigh Lane is a red brick cottage in a whimsical, almost fairytale Arts & Crafts style, built by the LCC in the 1890s as a keeper’s cottage, though it’s currently derelict and boarded up. Across the road, the Green Chain divides again at a fingerpost marking the end of Section 2 and the start of Sections 3 and 4. We follow the former downhill into the woods; the latter, explored on a future walk, heads off alongside the bowling green in the direction of Plumstead Common.

The sadly derelict keeper's cottage at Bostall Heath.

The woodland here is the former Old Park Wood, with the site of Old Park House through the trees to the left. It’s a particularly attractive section of the walk, where the woods seem thick and deep, the path skirting the edge of a steep ravine. Just before leaving the trees on the right is a tunnel known as Turpin’s Cave, as the notorious highway robber Dick Turpin (1705-1739) allegedly used it as a hideaway. The story goes that a female accomplice called Fanny worked in the White Horse pub on Wickham Street and signalled Turpin with a light when the coast was clear. The pub was later renamed, rather colourfully, Fanny on the Hill but demolished in 2014, its site incorporated into East Wickham Open Space. We’ll soon pass through the open space, but the pub site is off our route to the south.

Like many stories connected with Turpin, this one is likely spurious. The so-called cave, since filled in for safety reasons, was more likely the remains of a chalk digging dating from a century or so after the highwayman’s death. There were numerous such chalk pits around the wood, largely made by the Coop to source materials for the Bostall estate: one of these was a little north of the point where we leave the woods.

The steep descent takes us into the valley of the river Wogebourne, which has taken a meandering route from Thamesmead through the flatter ground to the west of the woodlands. As soon as you leave the woods onto Cemetery Road, in front of Woodside Cottage, you may be able to glimpse the flow of water at the foot of a steep, wooded slope on the other side of the track, running to the rear of house gardens.

From here, the walk follows the wall of Plumstead Cemetery, established by the Woolwich Burial Board in 1890 on former farmland attached to Old Park and now managed by Greenwich council. If you detour through the imposing main gates with their lodges, you’ll find a flamboyant hilltop chapel, a war memorial and a pink granite obelisk commemorating 11 Arsenal workers who died in two accidental explosions in 1903.  Aside from 187 Commonwealth War Graves and various local dignitaries, the most notable interment is Gunner Alfred Smith, who was part of a group sent to relieve General Gordon’s forces when they were besieged in Khartoum during the Mahdist war, as recounted in Woolwich on Ring 1. They were attacked by Mahdists on the way, and Smith died saving the life of an injured lieutenant, for which he was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross.

Plumstead Cemetery chapel with Woolwich Arsenal obelisk visible right.

Reaching Wickham Lane, the river runs under the road a little to the right, its presence acknowledged by the street names Bournewood Road and Brookwood Road. On the other side of Wickham Lane, opposite Brookwood and a little off the trail, is a stinkpole venting gases from the buried stream. Unsurprisingly, the boundary runs close by, and crossing Wickham Lane, we’re back in Bexley, in the former parish of East Wickham.

East Wickham


View back to the Wogebourne Valley from East Wickham Open Space.

The name ‘Wickham’ may derive from Latin vicus, a settlement, and there was certainly a Roman village nearby on Watling Street, which, as we’ll soon discover, runs a little to the south. The ‘East’ prefix was added later to distinguish the village from West Wickham near Bromley (and on Loop 3), though the two are some distance apart. It was once a separate manor within Plumstead, granted following the Norman conquest to the Burnell family, though it passed through several subsequent hands including the Howards, Dukes of Norfolk.

By the late 18th century, it functioned as a separate parish and this was formalised in 1852, cleaving it permanently from Plumstead. It was allocated to Dartford Rural District in 1894 then Bexley Urban District in 1902, through which it ended up in the London Borough of Bexley. It remained relatively undeveloped until 1916 when the Royal Arsenal built prefabs for emergency war workers. and still has something of a rural feel in places today.

East Wickham’s most famous former resident is undoubtedly the innovative singer, songwriter, pianist and dancer Kate Bush (b1958), who grew up with her mildly eccentric and highly musical part-Irish family at East Wickham Farm. This was by then only a residence rather than a working farm, comprising a sprawling farmhouse, parts of which date back to the 16th century, and various outbuildings overlooking extensive open land.

Bush wrote many of her early songs here, like ‘The Man with the Child in his Eyes’, and returned in 1983, installing a home studio that she used to create her most acclaimed album, Hounds of Love (1985), including one of her best-known songs, ‘Running Up That Hill’. The property is still in the family: Kate’s nephew Owen Bush, a self-styled ‘bladesmith’, has a forge there where he makes hand-crafted swords and knives. The location is a little south of our route and there’s not much to see from the street, but Bush would have been familiar with the paths we walk, and you can imagine how the odd, part-rural, part-suburban edgeland character of the place informed her idiosyncratic work.

The village centre is also off our route in the same direction: its most notable feature is the small part-13th century Grade II*-listed Old St Michael’s Church, originally a chapel of Plumstead. This proved inadequate for the rapidly swelling population of the interwar period so in the 1930s a new St Michael’s Church was built close by. The old church is currently used by the Greek Orthodox community and has been renamed the Church of Christ the Saviour.

On the other side of Wickham Lane, you pass the Foresters Arms pub, opened by a brickmaker in 1860 and named for its proximity to the woodland. Rebuilt in 1900, it closed unexpectedly in April 2023 to facilitate the construction of flats in the former car park, though there’s a local campaign to save it.

You soon enter another major green space, though of a different character than the woods, with more rolling swards of open grass. East Wickham Open Space was once farmland attached to East Wickham Farm, which is amid the houses visible over to the left, outside the park, as you reach the top of the slope to find a Green Chain information board. The land escaped development but in the 1950s was used for landfill and to dump rubble from the Blitz. In the 1970s it was levelled and grassed over as a public park and wildlife area, also known as Fanny on the Hill Park after the pub with its Dick Turpin legend mentioned above.

There are still a few reminders of its past: patches of the former Hills Grove Wood to the right soon after you enter, a few traces of hedgerow and several tall oaks that once stood amid fields. It has a more varied texture than it did when the Green Chain first connected it, thanks to a collaboration between the council and Bexley Conservation Volunteers encouraging wild areas and tree growth.

Look behind you once you’ve climbed the first slope for a view over the Wogebourne valley and the woods rising above it. The bench near the Green Chain information board honours the work of the Conservation Volunteers, who among many other things are partially responsible for the park’s most intriguing feature, a damp east-west woodland strip with dew ponds, with the Green Chain running through it. This stretch includes the only boardwalk on the trail, installed in 2000.

East Wickham Open Space boardwalk.

The Wogebourne’s course is also through the park, roughly parallel to ours, over to the right on the northern margins. But aside from a ditch behind houses visible from the northeast corner, the river flows entirely in an underground culvert.

Poets Corner


Pygmy goats in Poets Corner, Welling.

Leaving the open space there’s some pavement pounding ahead of us, but not without interest. The houses didn’t appear here until some way into the 20th century. Glenmore Road, on the west side of the park, was a country lane. Edison Road, running left-right at the first crossroads, was an old footpath that became the first proper street laid out in the 1910s in preparation for development, but building didn’t start in earnest until the early 1940s, during World War II, and was halted before plans were completed. The rest followed in the 1960s and the mix of houses from both eras is readily apparent.

The neighbourhood is known informally as Poets Corner for reasons that should become obvious from the street names. We’ve been following Dryden Road, named for John Dryden (1631-1700), England’s first Poet Laureate. The Wogebourne runs under Edison Road (not a poetry reference) just north (right) of the crossroads, its course marked on the left by a narrow grass strip between the houses and obliquely acknowledged in a street name, Combeside, almost opposite. Once again it carries the old parish and modern borough boundary. The Glenmore Arms, a faintly Brewer’s Tudor former Courage pub built in the 1930s to serve the planned development and inevitably closed and converted to flats in 2022, is just on the Greenwich side. Our route stays in Bexley for the moment.

Dryden Road now parallels the Wogebourne, which runs behind the 1960s houses on the right. This is a good stretch to note the contrasting architectural styles, with older 1940s houses on the left. You pass Milton Avenue (John Milton 1608-74, best known for his epic Paradise Lost) left and reach a bend where Dryden Road becomes Keats Road (John Keats 1795-1821, author of ‘Ode to a Nightingale’ and many others). At the corner on the right, beside a gate, is a paddock where pygmy goats often graze. From 2014 this was Keats Community Farm, an organic growing project, but they vacated during the Covid lockdowns and since 2022 the site has been operated as ADO River Valley, an independent outdoor school for children with mental health issues and learning disabilities.

The land here is part of a much wider 50 ha agricultural complex surprisingly close to central London, straddling the Wogebourne valley down to Watling Street at the foot of Shooters Hill. Woodlands Farm was created in the early 19th century on a cleared woodland, Bushy Lees Wood, and bought in 1919 by the ever-active Royal Arsenal Coop. In 1937, the Coop converted it into a model pig farm with its own abattoir, supplying pork to the society’s shops. The abattoir closed in 1983, and though some farming continued, the Cooperative Wholesale Society (CWS), who had inherited the facility, drew up plans to develop parts of the site for housing. Following community protests, the CWS leased the land to a new charity, the Woodlands Farm Trust, who continue to operate the farm as well as providing educational and visitor facilities.

Green Chain walkers, sadly, are currently denied a close encounter with this unusual location. A path runs from the gate next to the goat pen direct to Bellegrove Road almost opposite the entrance to Oxleas Woods, following the Wogebourne which runs on the surface through the fields. It’s almost entirely in Bexley but doesn’t appear on the borough’s official ‘Definitive Map’ of public rights of way, perhaps because its last section is on the boundary with Greenwich which, as an Inner London borough, is not obliged to keep such a map. Nonetheless, it was used freely by locals for many years.

When the Green Chain Walk was created in the late 1970s, the CWS was happy for it to be signed through the farm and for several decades the path provided a convenient and attractive link in the trail. Then in 2007, the Woodlands Farm Trust suddenly and unexpectedly closed it off, in response, they said, to antisocial behaviour and irresponsible dog owners allowing dogs to worry livestock.

Despite numerous rounds of campaigning and negotiations initiated by the Ramblers and others, the Trust proved intransigent, and the path remains closed at the time of writing. It’s still mentioned in trail guides in the hope that the dispute will be resolved at some point, but until then you’ll need to take the signed, largely street-based diversion. Perhaps recalling the words of a few poets will make the going easier.

So the Green Chain now takes you along Keats Road past Wordsworth Road (William Wordsworth 1770-1850, the archetypal Romantic poet, most famous for his ‘Daffodils’) and Tennyson Close (Victorian Poet Laureate Alfred Tennyson 1809-92, commemorator of ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’), then down Chaucer Road (more below), passing Shelley Drive (Percy Bysshe Shelley 1792-1822, another Romantic and author of the proto-psychedelic ‘Ozymandias’ that inspired a Thamesmead sculpture), and Burns Close (poet and songwriter Robert Burns 1759-96, the unofficial national bard of Scotland) to the junction with Wickham Street.

Opposite is the Green Man pub, another 1930s roadhouse, built by Beasley’s North Kent brewery in Plumstead, which was bought and closed by Courage in 1963. Unlike many similar buildings, it still functions as a pub, at least for now. There’s an alternative route from the pub car park on a fenced footpath around the edge of Hillview Cemetery, a surprisingly new feature opened by Bexley council in 1995 on what had previously remained a field. Bob Gilbert chooses this path for his unofficial Green London Way, and it does provide some relief from pavement trudging, but misses out a couple of interesting features just to the south.

Shoulder of Mutton Green, Welling.

The first of these is immediately ahead as you cross Wickham Street. The footway begins to diverge from the road on the other side of a grass strip that soon widens into a more substantial open area in a wedge shape that explains its name, Shoulder of Mutton Green. It’s been used as a public space since at least the early 18th century, when it was surrounded by fields.

Like Bostall Woods, it was owned by Queens College Oxford who, tempted by its position beside a major road, attempted to inclose it for house building in the mid-19th century. Angry locals tore down the fences, and the dispute culminated in the Metropolitan Board of Works buying the green in 1877 as a permanent public space. Largely a flat grassed area, it’s not one of London’s most attractive green spaces, but it’s nonetheless a welcome oasis amid suburbia, with a few flower beds, several handsome mature trees and extensive bulb plantings that burst into colour in early spring. Air raid shelters were dug beneath it during World War II.

The green hasn’t widened much when the Green Chain cuts across it, heading for a distinctive red brick church, St Mary the Virgin Welling. This site housed a temporary mission hall from 1934 to serve the growing population, replaced by the current structure in 1955. It was designed by Thomas Ford (1891-1971), chief architect of the Church of England’s Southwark diocese, who worked on numerous new and restored churches in south London in the 1950s and 1960s.

St Mary the Virgin, Welling: sgraffiti by Augustus Lunn.

The Italian Romanesque exterior reflects the neoclassical influence of John Soane (1753-1837), responsible among others for the Dulwich Picture Gallery (which we’ll pass on Green Chain D7), though the interior is more Greek in style, housing several notable artworks and stained glass. From the outside, the most striking feature is the Romanesque arch above the main door with its quasi-medieval sgraffito tempera mural depicting the mysteries of the Virgin Mary. This is the work of Augustus Lunn (1905-86), a noted revivalist of this ancient technique, which involves scratching into layers of plaster.

Rather than turning towards the church, you can continue along the left side of the green to break at Welling station: oddly, this isn’t an official Green Chain transport link, though it’s no longer than many other links on the trail.

Welling and Watling Street

Whichever option you follow, you’ll soon find yourself meeting a wide, straight and busy main road. It’s known here as Bellegrove Road, but it’s part of one of London’s most ancient highways, Watling Street. Built just before the year 50 by Roman engineers, partly along the line of a Celtic and possibly pre-Celtic trackway, it linked Wroxeter, St Albans and London with the Channel ports and then onward via ferry to Rome. Much of the road is now part of the modern highway network, including all the stretch from London to Dover, known generically as the Kent Road. We’ve encountered it several times in London Underfoot and I’ve considered its history in more detail on London Countryway 17b which crosses it south of Gravesend.

In medieval times, the road provided an important pilgrimage route from London to the shrine of Thomas Becket in Canterbury. It’s pleasing that one of the streets in Poets’ Corner should honour Geoffrey Chaucer (c1343-1400), the Middle English writer who is widely regarded as a founding father of English literature. Chaucer’s most famous work, The Canterbury Tales, is fiction but with an authentic setting, presented as stories told by pilgrims who gather in a Southwark inn before setting off along this very road.

Watling Street was turnpiked between the Old Kent Road at New Cross and Dartford by the New Cross Turnpike Trust in 1718. Turnpike trusts, as explained in several previous posts, were an early form of privatised highway management, where a group of trustees was given parliamentary authorisation to take over a stretch of road, invest in improving and maintaining it and recoup their investment and hopefully turn a profit by collecting tolls from users. Unsurprisingly given its strategic importance, the turnpike proved a great success and by the 1820s as many as 50 coaches daily passed this way between London and destinations like Rochester, Canterbury and Dover. In 1998, a new Wetherspoon pub in a former bank beside the road, a little to the east of where we join, acknowledged this history by taking the name New Cross Turnpike – rather confusingly, as it’s a good 11 km from New Cross.

In the early 1920s, with local authorities and central government now managing highways, the trunk road between London and Dover was provisionally designated A2 in the Ministry of Transport’s road numbering scheme. But sections of the old turnpike were already badly congested, so in 1923 work began on the first of many bypasses, Rochester Way, originally just a single carriageway road from the Sun in the Sands at Kidbrooke, a little east of where Watling Street crosses Blackheath, to Falconwood, where we’ll meet it shortly.

From Falconwood it continued as Welling Way to join the existing route 200 m east of where the Green Chain reaches the foot of Shoulder of Mutton Green. The bit of Watling Street here was always the A207, never the A2: that designation originally only applied east of the Welling Way junction. This only lasted until 1927 when Rochester Way was extended from Falconwood to Dartford, after which all of Watling Street between Sun in the Sands and Dartford was renumbered A207, still the designation today.

Eastwards, the road soon takes you to Welling, once a small hamlet at the centre of a separate manor within East Wickham parish. Its inhabitants mainly worked at the extensive Danson Park estate to the southeast, now partly a particularly delightful public park but some way off our route. There were very few houses aside from the occasional coaching inn, with lonely stretches in between that in coaching days were known haunts of highway robbers. Some of the inns – the Nags Head, the Rose and Crown – survive, at least as names on their original sites.

Development remained sporadic until 1895 when the Bexleyheath Railway opened as an infill of the South Eastern Railway’s North Kent Line, branching off at Blackheath and rejoining at Slade Green. This was largely thanks to the lobbying of Alfred Bean, the chair of Bexley Local Board, a railway engineer who had earned a considerable fortune abroad and who lived in Danson House at the time and saw the opportunity for housing development. Welling was one of the original stations. Today this stretch of Watling Street is heavily built-up, but nearly all the buildings are late Victorian at the oldest, and many are postwar. If you take a break here, look out for the Welling Gateway Mural depicting local history in the pedestrian passage under the railway bridge on the main road, created by Gary Drostle, whom we encountered at the Lakeside Centre in Thamesmead, in collaboration with local children in 2004, and a fine display of old photos in the station booking hall.

Walking the road westwards on the main route, the buildings are mainly residential. Shooters Hill rises in the distance, surmounted by a Gothic-style water tower built in 1910. At 129 m, this is the 10th highest point in London, but we won’t climb to it until D2.1. The trail passes the We Anchor in Hope pub, which has been here since at least the 1850s, although the current building looks like a late 19th century rebuild in faintly mock-Tudor style. It was originally known simply as the Anchor, though has borne its current name, a biblical reference to Hebrews 6:19, since the 1890s. Just past it is a garage and just past this the Wogebourne is visible as an overgrown ditch, with the fenced-off exit of the path through Woodlands Farm immediately adjacent.

Overgrown Wogebourne and former Green Chain path on Bellegrove Road.

The stream still demarcates the boroughs, as you’ll see when you follow the Green Chain across Watling Street and into Oxleas Woods. At the woodland entrance close to a Green Chain information board, the round-topped plate half-buried in the ground is not just a trip hazard but a 1903 boundary marker for the former Metropolitan Borough of Woolwich. Close by is a London County Council bollard: between 1885 and 1965, this was also the boundary between Kent and London. The Green Chain once again enters Greenwich, and the former parish of Eltham, where it will remain for the rest of today’s walk.

Woolwich boundary marker threatening to trip unwary walkers in Oxleas Wood.

Though you can no longer walk freely through Woodlands Farm, parts are open to the public six days a week and it hosts various activities. The main entrance is a little further along the main road from where the Green Chain crosses: check the website for details.

Oxleas Wood


The main path junction in Oxleas Wood, with river Wogebourne ditch right.

I introduced Eltham, Shooters Hill and Oxleas Woods in detail on Ring 1 so I’ll only summarise here. At over 133.5 ha, this is one of the most extensive and lushest wooded areas in London, much of it ancient natural woodland that likely partly dates from the end of the last glacial period. It’s designated as a Local Nature Reserve (LNR) with over half considered a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI). It’s made up of various patches of wood with their own names: today we’ll walk through Oxleas Wood itself, though the term Oxleas Woods is also applied to the whole complex.

The woods were once part of the vast estate attached to the royal palace at Eltham, remaining wooded as poor soil and steep slopes deterred clearance for farming, though they were useful for rough grazing and sticks from coppiced trees. In 1679 the woods became privately managed as a commercial enterprise providing timber, including for shipbuilding in Deptford and Woolwich dockyards. The environment was also unattractive for housing development, but in the 19th century some big houses began appearing along the edges, particularly on Shooters Hill.

Around 1850, this eastern part of the woods was annexed to the Avery Hill estate, discussed below, but retained its tree cover. By the early 20th century, the woods were more appreciated for their recreational value and councils began buying them as public land from 1924: our section was added in 1934. They were already somewhat carved up by roads and railways when in the 1980s the environment was infamously threatened further by a proposal to drive a motorway through both the woods and Woodlands Farm, eventually cancelled following vociferous opposition.

Just off the trail as you enter the woods is a footbridge and gate leading to an open space so obscure that it’s known locally as the ‘secret garden’, though its official name is Eastcote Gardens. Less than 0.4 ha in extent, it somehow avoided being built on and remains not so much a garden as a secluded grassy meadow, surrounded by house fences and liberally dotted with trees, including some fine willows. It’s now managed by Bexley council, as it’s back over the boundary ditch, part of the upper reaches of the Wogebourne, which rises from various springs in the woods.

Bluebells in Oxleas Wood.

The main path tracks another Wogebourne ditch to a point where another stream joins among the trees. Here, a Green Chain fingerpost indicates another junction on the network. Section 3, which we’ve been walking, turns off here to finish at Oxleas Meadow beside a splendid park café, worth a 500 m uphill detour if you need refreshment. Capital Ring 1 from Woolwich and Charlton also threads this way, piggybacking on the Green Chain, and we’ll share the path with it for a while as we join Green Chain Section 6, which starts here. A little further along, you’ll glimpse the open green of Oxleas Meadow (Ring 1), but the path turns away from it, passing a pond on the left which is particularly attractive in spring, with a display of yellow iris. It’s likely fed by one of the Wogebourne springs: a channel of the river runs on the other side of the path.

Just past the pond, you emerge at the junction of Welling Way and Rochester Way, the two 1920s bypasses on the original A2. Rochester Way, the earlier road, approaches from the west (right): the A2 initially continued east (left) along Welling Way, until 1927 when the rest of Rochester Way was completed, forking southeast. This was superseded as a trunk route in the 1970s by yet another relief road, as we’ll shortly see.

Across the road is Shepherdleas Wood, also part of the Oxleas complex. The most direct way to our next objective, Falconwood station, is along the road, but I’ve preferred the slightly more circuitous route through the trees. The origin of the two names is obvious if you think about it: Oxleas was used for grazing cattle (oxen), Shepherdleas for grazing sheep. The respective woodlands are subtly different in character: Shepherdleas has more clay in the soil which encourages denser undergrowth. In the heart of the wood is another major Green Chain junction, where Section 6, and the Capital Ring, head off westwards towards Eltham. Today, though, we’ll keep ahead towards Falconwood on Section 7, which starts here.

Falconwood and Eltham Warren


Gravel Pit Lane, a hidden gem near Falconwood, with Eltham Warren right.

The trail rejoins Rochester Way almost opposite Falconwood station, and follows it across the Bexleyheath Line, the same railway that runs through Welling. When the line opened in 1895, there was no point in providing a station in what was then a deeply rural area. It remained so until the 1930s when New Ideal Homesteads Ltd, the country’s largest private housebuilder of the day and responsible for much of southeast London’s suburbia, built an estate on the cleared woodland of Westwood Farm, east of the borough boundary in the former parish of East Wickham. But the developers preferred the name of a field on the Eltham side, Falconwood Field (now also part of the public space, but off our route), so called their estate Falconwood Park.

The Southern Railway, by then the owner of the Bexleyheath line, opened Falconwood station to serve the estate in 1936, and its name was soon applied to the wider area. The station was originally on the Eltham side, but the boundary has since been tweaked to follow the railway and Rochester Way, so it’s now in Bexley, though our trail stays just inside Greenwich.

If the traffic noise here seems disproportionate to the visible vehicles, you’ll discover why as you turn down Riefeld Road. Running in a deep trench beneath is a busy dual carriageway, the Rochester Way Relief Road, the current incarnation of the A2. Opened in 1972, this follows the original alignment of Rochester Way from Sun in the Sands to Kidbrooke then takes a more southerly route parallel to the Bexleyheath Line to just east of here where it merges with the original route again, becoming East Rochester Way. Looking right from the bridge, you can see how it slices through the woods and parkland and imagine how much more damage the even wider 1980s scheme might have done.

Past the bridge on the left is Eltham Cemetery, a council facility opened in 1935 and now jointly operated by Bexley, Dartford and Greenwich councils. It’s worth a visit if you have time, particularly the eastern section where a crematorium was added in 1956, though this is a good 450 m detour from the main route. Amid extensive memorial gardens is a curiosity, a small circular Modernist chapel in the style of Liverpool’s iconic Metropolitan Roman Catholic Cathedral. Perhaps the most famous burial is Joe Crozier (1914-85), Brentford and Scotland goalkeeper; there are also 57 Commonwealth War Graves dating from World War II.

Eltham Cemetery Chapel of Remembrance, curiously inspired by Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral.

Finally quitting the well-heeled suburbia of Riefeld Road, the Green Chain finds a hidden delight: Gravel Pit Lane, a byway which is shown on maps from the early 19th century but, judging by the age of some its trees, is much older than that. Today it runs as a fenced path between school playing fields on the left and Eltham Warren Golf Course on the right: the latter was founded in 1890 on what was then Warren Field, part of Eltham Park privately leased from the Crown. Surprisingly the lane is lit at night but is otherwise well-wooded and remarkably rural given we’re still in inner London. The eponymous gravel pit was towards the end on what’s now part of the golf course on the right; there were once sandpits on the other side.

Where the lane meets Bexley Road is a cattle trough that appears to be a private gift rather than one of the regular Metropolitan Drinking Fountain and Cattle Trough Association facilities still dotting London. The inscription says it was presented by Spencer Maryon-Wilson in 1905: the Maryon-Wilsons were prominent local landowners and philanthropists, already encountered in London Underfoot at Maryon and Maryon-Wilson Parks on Ring 1 at Charlton.

The road between Eltham and Bexley was another improved by the New Cross Turnpike Trust. It formed part of the route linking London with Ashford and Folkestone, branching off Watling Street at New Cross, also providing an alternative link to Dartford.  In 1922, the section between New Cross and Lee was designated as one of the new trunk routes, the A20, but the designation was never extended to this section, as a southern bypass of Eltham was already under construction: we’ll cross it on Green Chain D1.2. On the other side of the road, a few paces off route to the left, is a Portland stone milestone installed by the Trust, indicating nine miles (14.5 km) to London Bridge and seven (11.3 km) to Dartford. Its official Grade II listing doesn’t give its age, but it was certainly placed prior to the 1870s when the Turnpike Trusts were wound up.

Bexley Road milestone: nine miles to London Bridge.

Avery Hill


Beside the young river Shuttle in Avery Hill Park.

On the other side of Bexley Road, the Green Chain enters another extensive and very varied area of green space. The overall site is known as Avery Hill Park and includes the formal gardens and parkland around the Victorian mansion of Avery Hill to the east, but it’s otherwise quite a patchwork, incorporating remnant countryside and playing fields. The section nearest the road, known as Pippenhall Meadows or Eltham Little Park, was once Pippenhall Farm, occupying a valley created by the infant river Shuttle, which rises from a spring here at the geological interface between the permeable Blackheath Beds and denser Woolwich Beds. It’s an astonishing relic of agricultural land with small meadows and ancient hedgerows. The Pippenhall allotments on the left were once part of the farm: managed by Eltham and Avery Hill Gardens Society, they include a seasonal garden shop.

Mesolithic tools from around 7000 BCE have been found here, though the first written records are from 1290 when Edward II obtained hay from tenant John de Henley to feed the deer at Eltham Palace. According to the Greenwich Industrial History website, the oldest dateable hedges are from 1370 and there’s a relic of ‘ridge and furrow’ in the southeast likely dating from before the Black Death in the mid-14th century, though it’s badly overgrown.

A country estate began evolving to the east when Thomas Hale built a house in the early 19th century. This was rebuilt in 1841 and expanded on a grand scale from 1882 by John Thomas North (1842-96), the ‘Nitrate King’, who had made his fortune in Chile dealing in nitrates, iron, coal, waterworks and railways. The London County Council bought the estate as a public park in 1902. Farming at Pippenhall continued into the early 20th century when its last tenants, the Grace family, gave it up and its lands became part of the park.

The University of Greenwich now occupies the southeast part of the site, while the house, long a teacher training college, has recently become a school. I’ll say more about the history and the remaining heritage assets, including the spectacular Winter Garden, a massive conservatory built for North, on Green Chain D2.2.

The trail passes a now-redundant kissing gate, installed when the Green Chain was created in the late 1970s, and curves past hedgerows and through scrub. You soon reach a meadow where the Shuttle runs in a ditch at the bottom of the slope to the right, sometimes an empty channel in dry weather. The most likely source is two ponds hidden away just to the north: a detour along some rough paths will take you to them, but you might want to save this for walk D2.2. This will incorporate the entire Shuttle Riverway, which tracks the river, sometimes slightly approximately, from here through Blackfen and the old estates of Blendon and Bridgen to near its confluence with the river Cray near Hall Place in Bexley. It was planned as a branch of the Green Chain but implemented as a separate trail.

We’ve been following the Riverway’s station link since Falconwood, but the main trail shortly heads off east (left) at a major Green Chain junction. The house and Winter Garden, a café and toilets, the formal parkland, gardens, children’s playground and tree trail are all a short detour this way too. Another arm of the Green Chain itself joins from the right, a short branch of Section 6 providing a link to Eltham Park and Palace which we’ll also walk on D2.2.

For today, our way is ahead, alongside the sometimes-dry Shuttle, which divides two fields. The one on the right has recently been named Henley’s Field after its 13th century tenant. It was sown in winter 2023-24 with meadow grass and wildflower seeds to create a flower meadow as a partnership between the Friends Group, the council and the charity Butterfly Conservation.  There are trodden paths along both field edges and the Green Chain chooses the left one, which is largely mown grass.

At the next junction, a new woodland is being created in the left-hand field ahead. But our trail leaves the park along an enclosed path, Sparrows Lane, a former farm drive, at first still tracking the Shuttle, now on our left. Opposite are the railings of Charlton Athletic Football Club’s Sparrows Lane Training Ground: we’ll pass close to the team’s main stadium, the Valley, in Charlton on walk D3. Where another fence appears on the left, the river swings away east: the buildings you can see, now part of the University of Greenwich, are on the site of Sparrows Lane Farm. Then the lane becomes a street, with the red gates to the right confirming the training ground’s ownership.

New Eltham


New Eltham station.

The last short stretch of today’s walk is along streets: first the rest of Sparrows Lane, then Avery Hill Road, with a stink pole right opposite the junction. You’re soon at the busy crossroads with Footscray Road where, just opposite, a driveway leads to New Eltham station. Formerly known as Pope Street, this was another area that remained rural until the late 19th century when the railway stimulated development, though it didn’t become the intensively built-up suburb it is today until the 1930s. As there are a few more interesting features at the start of the next walk, I’ll save a more detailed history until then.