James-Paul suggested getting out of London, to the west, to walk the Thames from Reading to Sonning. In the end we pushed on as far as Henley on Thames, and then walked back again for a blister-indusing round trip of 30km (18.2m).

The weather was fantastic, despite the pessimistic BBC’s predictable predictions of anything from showers to full-blown rain. Instead, while we trekked beneath the odd menacing cloud, it was blue skies and sunshine all the way as we followed the course of the river on its winding path from source to sea.

Once we were out of Reading, where the swans were enjoying the temporary underwater platforms on which they could perch and preen (dumped shopping trolleys) it was an unbroken string of lush green countryside, but for a short stroll down a wooded road of rich-bitch houses sitting in regal manner under the shade of early-fruiting horse chestnut trees.

One of them had a scale railway running around its grounds, the magnificence of which we only truly appreciated as we leant across a fence, starving and wondering whether we should gather the windfall apples. Beyond the apple trees was a station house, a grand white building full of windows and doors, that could easily have doubled as a double-car garage. Whoever lived there had some serious money if they could build a folly like this, the size of a small cottage (below).

We stopped in Sonning for cakes, but the cakery had been taken over by an Indian restaurant, so after crisps and a drink pressed on as far as Henley, and ate lunch in a greasy tea shop looking out at the river and listening to the rude man on the table in the corner. I hope they did nasty things to his coffee.

We could have chickened out there, of course, and found an easier way back to London, but the swifts were swooping, heralding the end of the season, so decided instead to walk the three hours back to Reading and enjoy the sun while it lasted, stopping in Sonning for another drink on the return.

The train home crawled and I got in at half midnight to the furious mews of an angry cat who had been left in on her own all day. I didn’t have the energy to do much but pour some food into her bowl and fall into bed where she came up to purr and rub herself backwards and forwards on my face, clearly having quickly forgiven me.

This morning, my legs feel surprisingly good. I’ve got some sore bits where the tops of my boots rubbed at the skin above my ankles, but having just measured the route and seen how far it was, I’m sure they were worth it.

This entry was posted on Monday, September 4th, 2006 at 1:46 pm and is filed under Journal, Picture story. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.