Showing posts with label Greenwich Meridian Trail. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greenwich Meridian Trail. Show all posts

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.

Sunday, 30 October 2016

London Loop 18/19: Enfield Lock - Chingford - Chigwell


View across the Lea Valley from Daws Hill, Sewardstone Hills

You’ll cross two of the region’s most valuable large green spaces along this section of the London Loop: the Lee Valley Park and Epping Forest. Both plunge deep into east London, bridging city and countryside, though most of our walk is outside London, in Essex, the last historic county on the Loop, even though some of it has a London postcode. It passes through the forest gateway town of Chingford with its Tudor hunting lodge, and on out of the Forest to cross the river Roding where it runs between nature reserves and lakes at Buckhurst Hill.

I’ve returned to combining two shorter sections of the Loop for this instalment. The official break point is at Chingford, and the only practical place to stop before this has a relatively infrequent non-TfL bus. From Chingford to Chigwell there are several other transport options along the way.

Enfield Lock on the River Lee Navigation

Enfield Lock


For well over a century, the name ‘Enfield’ brought to mind an image rather less peaceful than that of a sleepy Middlesex market town. Between the 1850s and the 1960s, the majority of rifles used by the armed forces both of Britain and other countries in the British Empire and, later, Commonwealth, were made at the Royal Small Arms Factory beside Enfield Lock. The most famous of these was the Lee-Enfield rifle, of which variants were used in a depressingly long list of conflicts from the Second Boer War of 1899-1902 to Afghanistan in the early 2000s.

The Lee part of the name only coincidentally resembles that of the river that passes the site: it derives instead from the designer of the rifle’s bolt system, James Paris Lee. The name Enfield, though, was applied in whole or part to most of the factory’s products, including the Enfield revolver; the Bren gun, a contraction acknowledging that this was a modification of a Czech machine gun made in Brno; and the Sten gun, combining the place name with the initials of designers Shepherd and Turpin.

The factory was founded in 1816 following the Napoleonic wars, out of frustration with the poor quality of weapons then being supplied to the armed forces by Birmingham gunsmiths. Its location on an artificial island between the River Lee Navigation and the River Lea itself provided a convenient transport route not only downstream to London but to the Royal Gunpowder Mills in Waltham Abbey, just a little upstream (and briefly encountered on the London Countryway), as well as water power from the river. Much adjoining farmland in the valley was requisitioned for testing. The factory expanded significantly during the Crimean War in the 1850s, adopting US-style mass production methods. By the 1880s, 2,400 people worked at the site, which was then producing thousands of rifles a week.

Two world wars prompted further expansion, but in the 1950s production began to decline, and half the site was decommissioned in 1963. The remaining factory was privatised in 1984, soon becoming part of British Aerospace, who closed it in 1988. The site was finally redeveloped as housing between 1997 and 2003 under the name Enfield Island Village, incorporating some of the historic buildings including part of the original machine shop and clock tower, and an interpretation centre which is open by appointment only. A less welcome legacy also persists – in 2000 a survey found evidence of contamination from lead, cadmium, arsenic and copper, and residents are warned not to dig more than a metre into their gardens.

Despite the fame of its brand, during its working life the factory wasn’t technically in Enfield at all. It stood on the east bank of the natural course of the river Lea, and therefore over the county boundary in Essex, in the hamlet of Sewardstone. Over the years, the waterways across the site were re-channelled, and in 1993, several years after closure, the boundary of the London Borough of Enfield was extended to the River Lea Flood Relief Channel which loops to the east, partly to resolve planning powers for redevelopment.

Enfield Lock station, where the short link to this section starts, and the modest terraced houses that line the streets you follow, are all here because of the Royal Small Arms Factory. Then there’s a short length alongside the Turkey Brook again, continuing from the last section, before a foot and cycle bridge rises up ahead. This takes the Loop over the first of many branches of the river Lea, known as the Small River Lea, and the Turkey Brook bends off to the right to join it just before both merge with the River Lee Navigation a little south of our route.

The bridge continues across Mollison Avenue, the A1055 road, built in the 1980s to provide better access to the industrial estates along the Lea Valley, and named after pioneer aviator Jim Mollison. You then walk along the edge of Prince of Wales Open Space, today a rather straightforward recreation ground, but there are plans by the council and the Wildlife and Wetlands Trust to create a wetland reserve here.

The path emerges right opposite Enfield Lock itself, on the River Lee Navigation. There was probably a crude lock on the river here back in the 14th century, and certainly by 1725, predating the Navigation which opened in the early 1770s. The lock cottages and toll office date from 1889 and the lock itself, number 13, was rebuilt in 1922. The path crosses the downriver end of the lock: the row of cottages stretching to the left on the other side was built for gun factory workers, and is known as Government Row. Just beyond, and running parallel to the navigation, is the river Lea itself, with the former factory site beyond. You could explore it by turning slightly left and crossing the first bridge across the Lea, but the Loop turns right, briefly following the Lea Valley Walk along the towpath into the Lee Valley Park.

Lee Valley Park


The Cattlegate Flood Relief Channel, which now marks the boundary of London and Essex at Enfield Lock. The houses with solar cells on the left are in Enfield Island Village, on the former Royal Small Arms Factory site.

I introduced the river Lea or Lee, the River Lee Navigation, the Lee Valley Park and the Lea Valley Walk (see also Transport for London) at length when they were first encountered on the London Countryway at Broxbourne, including an explanation of the variant spellings, so I’ll keep this brief. The Lea is one the Thames’ biggest tributaries and arguably London’s second most important river. It rises on the edge of the Chilterns at Leagrave in the northern suburbs of Luton, runs roughly east and southeast via Harpenden and Hertford to Ware, then turns south via Broxbourne and east London. As tidal Bow Creek, it joins the Thames at Leamouth near Poplar, right opposite the O2 on the North Greenwich peninsula, a total distance of 68 km.

Throughout its history, the Lea has been important both politically and economically. Towards the end of the 9th century, the lower half of the river became the agreed boundary between the Saxon Kingdom of Wessex on the west bank, and the Danelaw, the part of England governed autonomously by Danish settlers, on the east. It remains the boundary between Hertfordshire and the London boroughs of Enfield, Haringey, Hackney and Tower Hamlets, formerly in Middlesex, to the west; and Essex and the London boroughs of Waltham Forest and Newham, to the east. Following various tweaks both to the boundary and to the waterway itself, though, the dividing line doesn’t always follow the course of the Lea today.

Economically, the river was a source of water for drinking and irrigation, fish and power for mills, and also a major transport corridor. One important cargo was grain, and particularly malted barley for the extensive London brewing industry, which was grown in the fields of Hertfordshire and malted in the towns of Hertford and Ware before being shipped south. Wheat was also shipped this way – at one point the abbey at Stratford had a near-monopoly on milling it into flour for London bakers – but barley was more associated with moneyed interests. It was the rich and powerful London brewers who in 1739 led the campaign to establish a board tasked with improving navigation on the river, which had particularly suffered from the abstraction of drinking water to supplement the New River (crossed in the previous section).

This campaign eventually resulted in the construction of the River Lee Navigation between 1767 and 1770, using a combination of improvements to the natural course and 18 km of new cuts to create what was essentially London’s first canal. The Navigation runs between Hertford and Bromley-by-Bow, from where the Limehouse Cut dodges the tight meanders of Bow Creek by heading straight to the Thames at Limehouse. Now used primarily for leisure rather than commerce, its management has passed via British Waterways to the Canal & River Trust.

Development on the Lea’s wide, flat flood plain was restricted by the wet conditions. By the early 20th century, the land use was a mix of water catchment and management, glasshouse nurseries, gravel extraction, remaining fragments of agricultural land, and industry along the lower reaches. The aggregates dug here, deposited in the last glacial period, helped build London, but by the 1940s the supply was nearing exhaustion, leaving an inhospitable landscape behind, and the nurseries and some of the other established industries in the valley were also set to decline.

A vision of the valley transformed into a giant recreational park for east London appears in Patrick Abercrombie’s utopian Greater London Plan of 1944, but no firm steps were taken to achieve it until the early 1960s when the mayor and town clerk of Hackney began building support for the idea among local authorities and other concerned organisations. This culminated in the creation by an Act of Parliament of the cross-council Lee Valley Regional Park Authority in 1966, funded by a modest additional charge to local ratepayers, with most of the early development of the park proceeding in the early 1970s.

Since then, the Lee Valley Park has evolved into one of the brightest of London’s green gems, with 4,050 ha of near-continuous green space stretching over 42 km from Ware to East India Dock Basin. It now includes much of the parkland and several of the venues in the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park in Stratford, and will expand still further with the completion of the Lea River Park project to create a linked series of new public spaces between Three Mills and the Thames over the next decade or so. It’s no longer London’s only regional park – the Loop has already passed through the Colne Valley Park between West Drayton and Harefield – but it’s the only one with statutory backing, and the difference is evident in its quality, prominent identity and sense of ambition.

The 80 km Lea Valley Walk is the main walking trail through the park, essentially following the Lee Navigation towpath, though it also stretches a considerable distance further upriver, all the way to the river’s source. The southern terminus is a little more complicated thanks to access issues along Bow Creek: previously the most obvious route was along the Limehouse Cut, but ongoing work on the Lea River Park is opening up a new route called the Leaway, creating much more pleasant walks to East India Dock Basin, Trinity Buoy Wharf on the confluence itself, and the Royal Victoria Docks.

At Enfield Lock, it provides the shortest and most straightforward link between the Loop and the London Countryway at Waltham Town Lock, around 2 km to the north. A more recently-developed parallel route for cyclists and walkers, the Lee Valley Pathway, either runs jointly with the towpath or follows a more easterly course.

The Loop’s dalliance in the Park is, rather sadly, a brief one, and its time on the Walk is even shorter. Soon you pass a fishing pond, the picturesquely named Swan and Pike Pool, squeezed between the two watercourses, and turn away from the navigation to follow the river Lea itself into grassy wetlands, passing an old bridge that once connected the Royal Small Arms Factory to the rail network.

The course of the river here was diverted around 1910 to facilitate the construction of the massive 170 ha King George V reservoir, its grand red brick and Portland stone pumping station soon looming ahead. This is the northernmost of 13 reservoirs in the valley dating from the early 20th century, and still making a major contribution to London’s water supply today. The King George, named after the monarch who opened it, and its immediate neighbour to the south, the William Girling reservoir, together form the Chingford Reservoirs Site of Special Scientific Interest due to their popularity with wintering wild fowl, though admission is restricted to permit holders only.

Just before the reservoir perimeter, the Loop dodges across the Lea on a footbridge and crosses another rough grassy area. There’s something curious about these verdant but still oddly desolate patches, defined by their exclusion from the civil engineering that surrounds them, the reservoir and the various watercourses, like offcuts of cloth. Of course they’re now valued for their wildlife and recreational function, but they retain that slight feeling of being forgotten about. Soon the Loop crosses yet another linked watercourse, the River Lee Flood Relief Channel mentioned above, also known as the Cattlegate Channel. This was commissioned after bad flooding in 1947, although only completed in 1976. The high water levels of recent years have undermined its effectiveness, and still further work will soon be needed in the valley.

Crossing the Cattlegate Channel, you reach the current boundary of Greater London and enter the Epping Forest district of Essex, the Loop’s last historical county. As the channel deliberately followed the eastern perimeter of the Royal Small Arms Factory, it was the obvious option when the boundary was realigned in the 1990s. I also introduced Essex in some detail when the London Countryway crossed into it at Waltham Abbey. Its name commemorates the fact that in the early middle ages it was the kingdom of the East Saxons, and it was once much larger, including most of what later became Middlesex and Hertfordshire. As mentioned earlier, the boundary along the Lea dates back to the treaty that created the Danelaw in 878, but persisted after the final defeat of the Danes in 991.

The London Loop enters Sewardstone Marsh

On the other side of the channel is Sewardstone Marsh, which looks like a good example of the wet, flat meadows that once characterised the valley floor, although it’s been heavily restored. Prior to World War II it was used for grazing, but during the war it was quarried for road construction materials, and then used as a dump for ash and rubble from Brimsdown power station a little further downriver. Acquired by Lee Valley Park in the mid-1980s, it’s now a delightful patchwork of woodland, grassland and grazed flood meadows that provides a home to the rare early marsh orchid. There are many more wonderful sites like this in the park, as you’ll discover along the Lea Valley Path, but the Loop is eager to push on east.

Sewardstone


Sewardstone is a straggly hamlet on the old road between Waltham Abbey and Walthamstow. Originally it was a small manor in the south of the parish of Waltham Holy Cross, centred on the powerful abbey to the north, and was once the residence of the abbey’s ‘pittancer’, the person responsible for managing pittances or charitable donations to the abbey. There are still some historic buildings, including Netherhouse Farmhouse, almost opposite as you emerge on the road: although the front wing is 18th century, the rear is certainly earlier, and it forms an attractive group with surrounding barns. The nursery and glasshouse industry in the valley later spilled into Sewardstone and there are still several nurseries along the road to left and right. To the south is the Lee Valley Campsite, operated by the park authority, the only official camping site close to the London Loop

Sewardstone holds another curious distinction: it’s the only place outside Greater London with a London postcode. The anomaly is less puzzling once you understand that postal addresses and postcodes have always served the operational convenience of the Royal Mail above popular or official geographies.

As mentioned many times here, the development of local government in London lagged a long way behind the physical development of the metropolis. The London Postal District, the area where correct postal addresses end in ‘London’ and a compass point postcode, dates back to 1856, long before the creation of the London County Council (LCC), the first true London-wide authority, in 1889. Back then, the District included substantial rural hinterlands that were serviced from post offices in adjacent urban centres: for example, post to Sewardstone has been delivered from the Chingford office since 1813.

The LCC area, when it was finally defined, was substantially smaller than the Postal District, so there were once many more places technically outside London that nonetheless had London addresses, from Brent Cross to Wimbledon. The much larger area of Greater London defined in 1965 subsumed practically all of these, and much more, but the Royal Mail stuck rigidly to its policy of ignoring official boundary changes.

This is why all the London locations we’ve previously passed through on the Loop have addresses and postcodes that refer to other towns: for example, back on the west side of the Lea you’ll find EN postcodes, for Enfield. Some of the ‘post towns’ used in outer London are even outside London itself, so Erith, where the Loop began, has DA postcodes, for Dartford. Except here, where a peninsula of the London Postal District defiantly pokes out beyond the Greater London boundary. As in neighbouring Chingford, which is now within London, the last line of the correct postal address for all the buildings you see begins ‘London E4’. Between here and the river Ching is, incidentally, the only stretch of the Loop within the London Postal District.

Sadly, Transport for London takes a less inclusive view of Sewardstone. As attested by the infrequent service, this is not currently one of those places just outside the boundary graced with red buses and Oyster readers. The 505 bus, which passes through on its way between Chingford, Waltham Abbey and Harlow, is a commercially-operated route that was almost withdrawn completely in 2015, but instead had its frequency drastically reduced.

Dark hills rear up on the other side of the valley, topped by a smudge of forest green. These are the Sewardstone Hills, and the Loop now leaves the road to turn directly towards them, crossing fields and climbing Barn Hill on a farm track. Just after the Loop joins the track, it re-crosses the Prime Meridian back into the eastern hemisphere, after entering the western at Coney Hall near Hayes (Bromley).

Rewarding the climb are the fine views across the Lea Valley that soon appear on the right. As well as admiring the extensive green swathes and the wide blue waters of the Chingford reservoirs offset by the chimneys of Brimsdown power station, you can appreciate from here quite how wide and flat a flood plain the Lea has smoothed for itself. In the distance rise the hillier parts of north London, and off to the north you may be able to work out some of the ridges the Loop has already traversed. Then, reaching the top of the hill, the trail unexpectedly diverts from the farm track at a turning that’s easy to miss, heading for the trees of Epping Forest.

Epping Forest


Carrolls Farm, Sewardstone, surrounded by Epping Forest, just a few hundred metres from London.

It seems almost unfair that, by a quirk of geography, two of London’s most extensive and impressive green spaces are so close together. And despite their proximity, the Lee Valley Park and Epping Forest are contrasting environments in a variety of ways. The former is a recent innovation in a broad, flat valley, highly accessible and well-interpreted for visitors. The latter is a more rugged place with a much longer history and sections that feel genuinely wild. The management tradition is different too, with a cautiousness about ‘urbanising’ nature that is sometimes off-putting to visitors, although this has softened a little recently. It’s still easy to get lost in Epping Forest, and although the Loop takes a relatively straightforward path through it, there are places where you need to read the directions carefully and look hard for waymarks.

I discussed the Forest in more detail on the same section of the London Countryway that introduced the Lee Valley Park, so once again I’ll summarise only briefly here. In the 11th century, it was part of the Forest of Essex, a royal hunting forest like the Forest of Middlesex on the other side of the valley, although considerably bigger, covering nearly the entire county. Like other hunting forests it included open areas as well as woodland: it’s been estimated perhaps only 20% was wooded. The forest was split up in the 13th century, with several much smaller successor forests covering more densely wooded areas. One of these was Waltham Forest, which occupied the southwest of the county between the Romford Road (originally the Roman road from London to Colchester, now the A118) in the south, and Harlow in the north.

By the early 19th century, patchwork inclosure and development had significantly reduced the tree cover and split the forest further into two discontinuous patches, Epping Forest in the west and Hainault Forest in the east. In the early 19th century, the government removed Epping’s royal forest status and sold off the remaining woodland to the lord of the manor of Loughton, whose successors attempted to inclose and develop it. This triggered a campaign of resistance which culminated in the Epping Forest Act of 1878, preserving the 2,476 ha of forest which remains today.

By then, the City of London had become involved, as the closest thing to an official expression of the public interest of Londoners prior to the creation of the London County Council. The 1878 Act confirmed the City as the official conservator, a position it has held ever since. The legacy of the City’s role in preserving countryside as a public amenity has already been encountered on the Loop, when it crossed parts of the Kent and Surrey Commons (in sections 3, 4 and 5/6), but Epping Forest is by far the biggest among its portfolio of green spaces, many of which are a long way from the ‘square mile’ itself, including considerable swathes outside the modern boundary of Greater London.

The little triangular woodland at the top of Daws Hill is only connected to the rest of the historic forest by a thin strip, though the forest lands now extend into the fields and meadows to the north, bought by the City in the 1990s. Then a short stretch along a country lane passes Carolls Farm, where there are two Grade II listed buildings creating an attractive group: a mid-16th century timber-framed and weatherboarded barn, and the farmhouse itself, largely dating from 1767 though with earlier sections. You could follow the lane, Bury Road, all the way to Chingford, but as it’s that rarity on the Loop, a country road without a pavement, you’ll likely be grateful for the U-shaped detour through Gilwell Park and Hawk Wood that shortly follows (also incidentally dipping briefly back into the western hemisphere), though it does miss out the cluster of posh houses at Sewardstonebury.

Just before this, another trail joins from a track across the golf course on your left, which the Loop follows for a while in reverse. This is the Greenwich Meridian Trail, devised by walking writers Hilda and Graham Heap to follow the line of the meridian as closely as possible through England while still providing a pleasant and varied walk. It starts at Peacehaven on the south coast, crosses the South and North Downs, passes through Greenwich and east London, runs close to Cambridge and continues across the Fens and the Lincolnshire Wolds to the Humber Estuary, with a short continuation on the other side from Spurn Head to Tunstall, a total distance of 439 km. This section launched with a self-published guidebook in 2011, and you might spot the occasional waymark installed by volunteers.

The Leopard Gate at Gilwell Park.

Gilwell Park is known to keen woggle wearers and jamboree attendees throughout the world as the home of the international scouting movement. Back in the early 15th century this was a farm, and later a smart country estate: a handsome mid-18th century farmhouse, the White House, still stands at the heart of the complex. By the early 20th century, the estate had fallen into dilapidation, and in 1919 it was bought by the Scout Association for £7,000, donated by a wealthy Scottish Scout commissioner, William Maclaren, to provide a nearby campsite for members in the East End. It’s since evolved into the Scouts’ main training, conference and events venue, with camping for up to 3,000 and events facilities for up to 10,000 people.

It houses a museum, a volunteer-run hospital, places of worship for five different faiths, and a collection of monuments and memorabilia, including a buffalo sculpture in honour of the ‘unknown Scout’ who brought Scouting to the USA, a sala containing a 1,000-year old Buddha, and Baden-Powell’s Rolls Royce and caravan. Since 2001 the site has also been the main administrative centre of the Scout Association with several hundred staff based here. It seems like an idyllic place to work, and appropriate given the organisation’s outdoor tradition, though I suspect most employees reach the office by car.

The Loop doesn’t venture into the site beyond the carved wood Leopard Gate, constructed to mark the main entrance to the site in 1928, but you can catch further glimpses into the park as you circumnavigate it, and if you’re interested, some areas are open to visitors. On the other side of the path is a covered reservoir that takes advantage of the elevated location. After a while the trail turns south, descending Yardley Hill to a valley floor. Crossing a ditch which forms an old field boundary, you walk back into London, this time into the London Borough of Waltham Forest, its name a deliberate echo of the old royal forest.

The trail climbs again towards Pole Hill and then turns off along a ridge, close to the edge of Hawk Wood. On the right here you’ll glimpse a golf course, the Loop’s first for a while. This is Chingford Golf Course, founded in 1888 as the Royal Epping Forest Golf Club but taken over in 1901 by the City, which still runs it today. Several different clubs share the facilities. For most of its existence, as if typical golfing clothes weren’t loud enough, players were required to wear a red item of clothing so they’d be clearly visible to other Forest users. The rule was only abolished in 2014.

The rather odd conifer at Jubilee Retreat.
Eventually the trail arrives back on Bury Road, briefly crossing back out of London, but now there’s a broad path on the other side, parallel to the road just inside the trees of Bury Wood, which takes it almost immediately back across the boundary. This is also the route of the Holly Trail, one of the official Epping Forest circular walks. Look out on the right for Jubilee Retreat, across the road, now used as a clubhouse but once one of several forest ‘retreats’ – late Victorian temperance tea rooms that aimed to persuaded visitors away from the local pubs. Look closely at what appears at first to be a very tall conifer in a compound next door – it’s actually a mobile phone mast disguised as a tree.

Chingford


The trail soon arrives at the wide, undulating grassy expanse of Chingford Plain, the first piece of Forest land immediately to the north of the built-up area, occupying a plateau that forms part of the clay ridge between the Lea and Roding valleys. On a fine day, especially in early summer when the grass is deep green and dotted with flowers, there’s an exhilarating sense of space here. On windy winter days it seems like one of the bleakest places in London.

The original Anglo-Saxon settlement of Chingford was likely quite a long way from here, to the southwest, by an ancient crossing of the Lea at Cooks Ferry which now carries the North Circular Road. The name is thought to mean ‘ford of the stump dwellers’, the ford referring to the Lea crossing and the stumps the foundations of pile houses built to cope with the marshy ground. The rest of Chingford, away from the river, was then covered in forest, but large parts of this were cleared in the 13th and 14th centuries to create a scattered parish of three manors and various small settlements, with a single parish church on high ground at Chingford Mount.

Chingford Plain is yet another site on the Loop, after Nonsuch, Bushy Park and Forty Hall, that owes something of its current appearance to Henry VIII and his insatiable appetite for hunting. By 1544, Henry controlled two of the local manors, and set about converting parts of these and the adjacent forest into a hunting park to be known as Fairmead Park, appointing Richard Rich, one of his then-favoured cronies, as keeper. Much of the grassland was probably created at this time through woodland clearance, and one of the original ‘standings’, lodges built for hunt spectators, still commands a view of the plain today, as we shall soon see. The project proved short-lived and the site was ‘disparked’ by 1553.

Rather like the area around Forty Hall, Chingford’s development was restrained by its relative lack of transport access, although a number of upmarket country houses appeared in the 18th and early 19th centuries. Encroachments on Forest land also continued: in the 1860s the local lords of the manor inclosed and ploughed up parts of the plain, but following the Epping Forest Act in 1878, they were ordered to return this land to open space.

The arrival of the railway in 1873 triggered development around the stations, particularly just to the south of the plain around the terminus close to Chingford Green, one of the original hamlets. By 1894, the area was populated enough to become an urban district. But it only achieved its current near-completely urbanised state between the two world wars, when development sprawled north to link it to Walthamstow, incorporating it decisively into the metropolis. Technically it still remained in Essex, until finally becoming part of the London Borough of Waltham Forest on the expansion of London in 1965.

You may divert from the Loop here not just if you want to break your walk at Chingford station but also to take advantage of the shops, cafés, pubs and restaurants that line Station Road, linking Chingford Green, the station and Chingford Plain. The official route heads off across a car park just after entering the Plain and then follows the road. But it’s more pleasant just to keep ahead across the springy turf, on a path that doesn’t pass that much further from the station.

The first station in the locality was opened in 1873 on Kings Road, closer to the Green, as an extension of the Great Eastern Railway’s (GER) branch from Clapton to Walthamstow. In 1878 the line was extended to a grander terminus on the present site, then less convenient for local housing but closer to the Forest, which the GER saw as an important potential stimulus to the growing leisure travel market. The plan was to extend through the Forest to High Beach, already a popular Forest honeypot (visited on the London Countryway).

Although this scheme was never realised, Chingford met all expectations as a gateway to the newly-preserved green resource. It was at Chingford in 1882 that Queen Victoria arrived by train to declare the Forest open to the public forever. During the late 19th and early 20th centuries, regular fairs on the Plain attracted huge crowds, reaching a peak on Whitsun bank holiday Monday 1920 when over 100,000 people passed through the station. Interwar development increased the railway’s importance as a commuting route and the line was subsequently truncated slightly to make way for the bus station, but the Victorian fabric is largely intact. It’s now part of Transport for London’s London Overground network. Look out for the plastic owl under the canopy of Platform 2, placed there to deter pigeons.

Queen Elizabeth's Hunting Lodge, with new improved
Tudor monarch-resistant deer.
Back on the trail, you walk across the Plain right in front of what’s now the most historic building in Chingford, and indeed one of the finest surviving Tudor buildings in London, so it’s worth making a minor diversion for a closer look. This is the old Great Standing constructed for Henry VIII’s Fairmead Park project, now known as Queen Elizabeth’s Hunting Lodge.

The Grade II* listed building and scheduled ancient monument with its exposed timber frame and plaster infill has been much restored over the years, including a rather fanciful rebuilding in the late 19th century that resulted in the current window layout. When built, it was the only such structure in England to boast three floors, and would have had open galleries overlooking the Plain. You can imagine what a fine view it commanded from the top of the slope of the bloody entertainment below as deer were driven out of the woods.

The walls were filled in by 1608, as by then the Manor Court met on the top floor, and by the early 19th century a Forest Keeper lived on the floors below. When the court stopped meeting in 1851, the Keeper and his wife converted the space into a tea room to cater for the growing number of leisure visitors. Between 1895 and 1960, the Essex Field Club used the building as a natural history museum, after which the City of London took it on. A more sympathetic restoration between 1989 and 1993 put right some of the damage done in Victorian times, and the Lodge is now open as a museum again, with exhibitions about life in Tudor times.

Next door is a smart City of London visitor centre, the View, opened in 2012 in a late Victorian building. As its name suggests, this boasts its own spectacular (and more accessible) view of the Forest as well as exhibitions and information on forest life. And next to that is the Royal Forest, a sprawling early 20th century ‘Brewer’s Tudor’ pub-hotel that now houses a Brewer’s Fayre and Premier Inn, another of the handful of accommodation options along the Loop.

The trail finally climbs from Chingford Plain beside another celebrated venue, the Butler’s Retreat, a timber-framed, weatherboarded early 19th century building that may once have been a barn. This takes its name from its 1890s proprietor, John Butler, and is the last surviving Forest retreat still open for public refreshment, although it now has an alcohol license. It was restored as part of the same project that created the View and is currently operated by a small upmarket café chain, the Larder.

Reaching Rangers Road, the Loop meets another trail from the northeast, the Centenary Walk Epping Forest, unsigned but shown on Ordnance Survey maps, which runs for 24 km through the whole length of the Forest from Forest Gate in east London to Epping. It was devised as part of the centenary celebration of the Epping Forest Act in 1978 by the late Fred Matthews, a prominent Ramblers campaigner in Essex and a prolific originator of walking trails.

It’s still the basis of an annual walking event organised by the Friends of Epping Forest and the Ramblers. It provides another convenient link between the Loop and the London Countryway at High Beach: the latter trail actually shares the alignment of the Centenary Walk from there to Epping. The Greenwich Meridian Trail, which has pursued a slightly different route, again converges with the Loop here, then heads decisively south with the Centenary Walk towards Walthamstow and Wanstead Flats.

The Loop now keeps eastward on the other side of Rangers Road, through an area known as Hatch Forest, to encounter a pretty stream, the river Ching. This rises at Connaught Water, a lake not far to the north, and flows roughly south between Woodford and Highams Park, then curves east between South Chingford and Walthamstow to meet the river Lea just north of the Banbury reservoir, a distance of about 9 km.

As you may guess from my previous comments about the origin of the name ‘Chingford’, the river’s name is a ‘back formation’ from the place rather than the other way round: it used to be called the Bourne. Much of the Ching’s course once formed the eastern and southern boundaries of Chingford parish, and here it still represents the edge of London. As confirmed by the county sign beside Rangers Road a few metres away, once across the Ching the Loop is back in Essex, where it stays for the rest of this section.

Buckhurst Hill


Folk etymology in picture at Roebuck Green, Buckhurst Hill
The area of Epping Forest immediately to the east of Chingford is known as the Warren, as by the end of the 18th century there was a large rabbit warren here. The Loop enters it along a broad grassy strip, climbing again to reach Epping New Road, a turnpike driven through what was then deep forest in 1834 as an improvement of the coaching route between London and Newmarket.

In the 1920s this road was designated part of a major trunk route, the A11 from London to Norwich, but since the opening of the M11 it’s been detrunked and renumbered A104. The pub here, the Warren Wood, was opened shortly after the road, in the 1850s. The house known as the Warren, once one of the Tudor ‘standings’ and now the Forest Keepers’ headquarters, is some distance further up the road to the north.

The Loop continues on a footpath through another stretch of Forest and alongside a cricket ground to emerge at Roebuck Green, which still preserves some of the atmosphere of a rural hamlet in an airy hilltop location. Since crossing the Ching, you’ve been in the area known as Buckhurst Hill, once a remote and wooded western part of Chigwell parish. It was bisected by the old highway on which you now stand, running roughly north-south from Woodford to Loughton, with only a rough footpath running east-west to connect with the parish church at Chigwell. Remarkably, there wasn’t a proper road between the two until 1890.

As a buck is a male deer, and a hurst a wooded hill, the place name seems evocatively rural, but it was originally the more prosaic-sounding Bucket Hill, probably ultimately derived from the fact that beech trees grew here. A straggle of houses lay along the road, which increased in importance in the 17th century when it was extended at its northern end to Epping, becoming an important link in the coaching route from London to Newmarket. But the climb up the hill was a cause of frequent delay, and the road was eventually superseded in 1834 by the Epping New Road, which the Loop crossed earlier.

Dog rose at North Farm, Buckhurst Hill
While the various road improvements stimulated enough development to necessitate the building of a church in 1837, Buckhurst Hill only really became a significant settlement with the opening of the railway in 1856. Much of the building was on inclosed Forest land, with the most expensive and desirable properties up on the ridge, and denser housing further east into the Roding valley, closer to the railway.

You can still see this pattern today: up here there are big villas overlooking the attractive green, with Victorian semis down the hill around the station, and interwar private and social housing and flats filling in the gaps. Today, the more desirable bits are very desirable indeed: along with Chigwell and Loughton, Buckhurst Hill forms the so-called Golden Triangle of affluent vulgarity featured in ‘reality’ TV show The Only Way is Essex.

The grass and scattered trees of Roebuck Green are another fragment of Forest Land, as are the fields of North Farm which you pass on a half-hidden path between the houses overlooking the green. Once these fields were covered in a wood known as Plucketts Wood, later inclosed, largely cleared and farmed. After World War II the owner, Charles Linder, allowed local people to use the fields on the right of the path for events, and in 1956 handed their management over to Chigwell Urban District Council, since succeeded by Epping Forest District Council. The 3.6 ha site is now managed as a Local Nature Reserve, with hay meadows that are particularly attractive in early summer, and a few remnant patches of ancient woodland.

It might not be London, but they have the Underground. Crossing the Central Line at Buckhurst Hill.

The Loop descends through fine green meadows, finally leaving the Forest lands to cross the railway. This was originally opened by the Eastern Counties Railway, predecessor of the Great Eastern, as a branch from Stratford to Loughton, providing through services to Bishopsgate and later Liverpool Street. It was extended in 1865 to Epping and Ongar, and in 1948 electrified and incorporated into the eastern extension of the London Underground Central Line, thus the familiar London Tube trains you’ll see plying the route today.

The remainder of the Loop through Buckhurst Hill is amid interwar development, though part of it makes good use of the Green Walk, an old footpath retained as a feature of the surrounding housing estates, which crosses close to the shops on Loughton Way. By now you’ve descended from the ridge to the flat flood plain of the next major Thames tributary east, the river Roding, and the Green Walk heads straight for the water, its surroundings soon opening out into Roding Valley Recreational Area.

The Roding Valley


The river Roding at Roding Valley Meadows, between Buckhurst Hill and Chigwell
The river Roding rises near Dunmow and flows for 80 km, initially roughly south through the Essex Rodings, villages which are suffixed with the river’s name. It works its way southeast from Ongar to Redbridge then slightly southwest through Ilford and Barking to join the Thames at Creekmouth – or Barking Riverside, as it’s shortly to be renamed once it’s redeveloped into a massive new residential estate -- as tidal Barking Creek.

Like the Lea but on a smaller scale, the Roding has a broad, flat valley, which as you’ll by now expect has been kept largely undeveloped for water management reasons. There have been various plans for a Roding Valley walking trail but currently following the river for any distance on foot is a rather disjoined experience.

Following World War II, the riverside land here, once used for farming, was designated as an open space for the much-expanded settlement and is now known as the Roding Valley Recreational Area (RVRA), an extended swathe of recreation grounds and sports fields which straddles the London boundary. In truth it’s one of those green areas along the Loop which, though undoubtedly valuable, is currently under-utilised, and would benefit from a more varied texture. Potentially it could become almost as attractive as the Lea valley.

Roding Valley Lakes, a legacy of the M11
This section of the RVRA is owned by Epping Forest District Council, but since new parish councils were created in this urbanised area in the late 1990s, the District has been negotiating to transfer its management to them. The Loop bends round the edge of one of the recreational area’s most prominent and attractive features, one of a pair of lakes used for fishing and boating. In another echo of the Lea valley, these were converted from gravel pits used for the construction of the nearby M11 in the late 1970s.

The trail then crosses the Roding itself and follows it briefly upriver through Roding Valley Meadows Local Nature Reserve, the largest remaining area of water meadows in Essex. This ancient landscape with its small meadows divided by traditional hedgerows was preserved into the later part of the 20th century as much of the land was requisitioned as an RAF base, RAF Chigwell, in 1938.

The base was a centre for barrage balloon operations in the early part of World War II, and part of the nuclear early warning system during the Cold War. Decommissioned in 1964 and largely demolished in 1968, part of the base was buried beneath the M11, while the rest was passed to Essex Wildlife Trust in 1986. It’s particularly noted for wild flowers like the southern marsh orchid, yellow watercress and devil’s bit scabious, as well as butterflies and other invertebrates.

The trail meets a concrete track of RAF origin, and if you detour left here, you’ll find one of the few substantial remains of the site’s wartime career, a concrete apron equipped with rotundas from which barrage balloons were launched. But the main route winds in the opposite direction out of the site, past a huge private David Lloyd leisure centre that also occupies part of the old base, and along a drive first towards the M11 and then parallel with it. The trees to the north conceal one of the hidden secrets of the motorway, but we’ll shortly enjoy a better view of this.

On the right, near the end of the drive, is the former Buckhurst Hill County High School, built in 1938 and closed in 1989 when it merged with Roding Valley High School and moved to a different site. The building is now an independent Sikh faith school that goes by the rather cumbersome name Guru Gobind Singh Khalsa College.

On to Chigwell


The M11, looking north from Roding Lane bridge at Chigwell. Sliproads lead to and from the never-built Chigwell Services.

The rest of this section is alongside the road into Chigwell, which crosses the M11 motorway, the last of the family of ‘Great North Roads’ the Loop encounters, and so far, the last of the major motorways built out of London. This section opened in 1980, superseding both the A10 and A11 as a through route to Cambridge and East Anglia, and providing a convenient exit northward from east London. It also serves London’s ‘third airport’, Stansted near Bishops Stortford, which was massively expanded in the mid-1980s.

Look left northwards along the motorway from the bridge and you’ll see unsigned slip roads on both sides. These and the overbridge just visible ahead are the only obvious clues on the ground to a curious instance of unfinished infrastructure hidden behind the trees. Aerial photographs are more revealing, showing that the slip roads loop around two large semi-circular areas of open grassland. As planned in the 1960s, the motorway was intended to extend much deeper into London than its current terminus on the North Circular at South Woodford, continuing through Hackney to Islington as part of the London Ringways plan. The land here was set aside for the motorway service area that would therefore be required, to be known as Chigwell Services.

But public opinion was turning firmly against such disruptive intrusions into inner cities, and plans for the final section of the motorway were finally cancelled in 1994. This is the reason why the southernmost junction on the M11 today is numbered 4, as junctions 1-3 would have been on the continuation south. A descendant of the scheme, the M11 link road to the Blackwall Tunnel approach via Leytonstone, was belatedly completed in the face of much local opposition as a diversion of the A12 in 1999. So Chigwell Services was now surplus to requirements. The site enjoyed a brief useful life between 2009 and 2012 as an off-site logistics depot during the construction of the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, but is now redundant again, as if awaiting a new golden age of motorway building.

At first, fields on both sides relieve the road walk, but soon, chains of interwar houses snake up Chigwell Rise as the Loop descends into the valley of the Chigwell Brook to a roundabout where the Rise meets Chigwell High Road. Chigwell is another of those hydra-headed suburban villages, where the railway has created a secondary centre. The historic core is up the hill to the north, along the next section of the Loop. But the railway builders preferred the lower ground, so if you’re breaking your walk here, you’ll turn right through an area of more recent development. The High Street here is lined with 1930s shopping parades, now boasting retailers upmarket enough to match the well-heeled locals’ aspirations. Another attraction is the well-kept village green, now a little park with a colourful ‘millennium garden’.

Chigwell station dates from 1903, when the Great Eastern Railway opened a branch line known as the Fairlop Loop from its main line at Ilford to Woodford on the Epping and Ongar branch, encountered earlier on the Loop. Like the Epping line, this became part of the London Underground in 1948, with a new tunnel from Newbury Park to Leytonstone completing the now-familiar Hainault Loop on the Central Line. The connection to the main line was finally severed in 1956. The original red brick station still sits on the road bridge over the lines, recently refurbished but largely unaltered. With its elegant vaguely Dutch-looking twin gables, it provides a modestly attractive location at which to end this typically varied section of the London Loop.

Modestly elegant and decidedly above ground: Chigwell Underground station.