Puss in Boots Pantomime, January 5th 2014

I don't remember having seen anything called Puss in Boots before, although I have heard of it. I get it mixed up with another story about a dick and his cat, but that one hasn't got boots.

So – the annual EFOG pantomime visit, organised by Pam this year and - as last - at Greenwich. I arrived about 12 minutes early to meet the group at 3pm, so - rather than wait about - decided to visit the Cutty Sark and make use of the few remaining days left of my annual pass. I met Sue S. as I made my way round to the ship, and she said I couldn't do it, but I thought I could. Bit of a hold-up at the check-in – though nothing like Stanstead and you don't have to go through an X-ray machine – but it meant that by the time I'd walked around the ship – waving to the security cameras – disembarked and got back to the DLR station, I was 5 minutes late. Well, I was in that mood where I didn't care, and apparently some of the others had just arrived, so anyway – we went and had a pizza. I blagged an early check-in of my two-for-one voucher from the last P.E. visit (it was supposed to be valid only after 5pm, but the manageress took a fancy to me – understandably). As it turned out – it was a real winner 'cos when the bill came up we had got two lots of two-for-one, so we shared out the winnings.

Back to the Pantomime, to which we then made our way. Unfortunately there were loads of kids there, but the sheer numbers of EFOG members overwhelmed them. We had loads of rows of seats between us, and a lot of waving went on between separated parties. This led to some confusion for the rest of the audience because some obviously thought we were waving at them. There is a funny atmosphere at pantomimes.

The show itself - like most pantomimes, I find – was quite hard to follow. The plot starts off well enough, then people start bursting into song and asking the audience to participate in the oddest ways. Even the plot seems confused: as an example one of the leading characters (the one who had the cat; is his name Dick?) was from Arkansas or somewhere silly like that. The year of 1517 was mentioned as being when this was supposed to have taken place, and yet I don't think Arkansas was invented then. The cat was supposed to be male, but (figure notwithstanding – it certainly wasn't outstanding but then it was a cat-suit) I think it was a female dressed up. And a very large and tall women – who was quite funny, admittedly – was obviously a man, even though she wasn't wearing a cat-suit. This always seems to happen in these plays, and it is all very confusing.

I suppose I enjoyed it, even though I hadn't intended to, and I suppose ( all being well) I shall find myself in a similar position of unreality next year – or even this year if we go before next January 1^st – which is always a possibility.

Paul Ferris, January 5^th (by the way, thanks, Pam, for organising it)

Welcome 2014 in The Lake District

I didn’t believe it when Ken said we were going to climb up the waterfall gushing and tumbling down the very steep, high crag – but we did – TWICE!

On 31^st December 2013, starting off in lightish rain, five of us walked and climbed up the path by the side of the wonderful, fast flowing waterfall behind the hostel we were staying at, on the side of Derwentwater. It was fantastic, the mist and rain added to the winter beauty of this lovely part of the world. At times the paths themselves proved to be a mini rivulets with water skimming over stones, mosses and lichen, exaggerating the multi-coloured rocks beneath our feet.

We paused several times on the way up and admired the all-round views. Wet bracken glowed in rust red swathes, draping undulating hills blessed with a myriad shades of green. The tops of some of the lower fells were capped by mists, the tops of the higher ones laced with snow. The air was intoxicating especially when the rain stopped for the afternoon, bringing smiles all round as we emerged from closely fitted hats and hoods.

Lynne atop the Bowder StoneOur 8 mile trek took us through Ashness Wood and over some lovely stone bridges. We walked down a “hanging valley” through Watendlath and towards The Grange. Lynne and Ken made a detour (uphill again) to see the Bowder Stone, catching up with us in time to sample the delights of a café in the village where home baked sticky gingerbread was a delight.

Three of us took a bus back to the hostel. The other two had a pub crawl back ….. both groups seeing the amazing sight of cyclists riding out of the lake!

At midnight we welcomed the New Year in at the hostel with other residents, standing outside to watch pretty fireworks going light up the jet black sky across the lake. We toasted the new year and sang Auld Lang Syne. Dave led some more singing – brave man….. before the rain decided we had been out long enough and sent us back indoors …… the forecast for the next day was dire!

A walk over Cat Bells had been planned for New Years Day itself but the heavy mist sat on top of the hills seemed pretty settled so an alternative walk was agreed. We would ascend the waterfall again (!) and this time carry on upwards, through a mainly wooded path to the top of the crag where we would cross the lower fell to reach Castlerigg Stone Circle. Once there we would text Paul, even send him a photograph of us all up there – signals were erratic so we were unsure we would succeed in but who knows what pagan gods might do to help us ?

The waterfall...againIt was dry when we set off this time and we seemed to reach the top of the waterfall more quickly than the day before. The journey through the woods proved a lot more “exciting” than we had expected. By this time the rain had returned, much stronger than the day before and accompanied by strong winds.

We had to cross quite a few mini streams, some only possible to ford by skilled teamwork (i.e. human chains and support to avoid wet bums or worse). There were also some tricky stiles – Ken’s head proved a useful prop. Difficulties notwithstanding, we remained positive and were still seduced by the beauties to be found. It was impossible for me not to stop sometimes to ogle winter fruiting lichens, running rivulets channelling down the hillside, clustered berries and the stark black tracery of winter trees. Magnificent.

Walla Crag, at 1,234 feet, is mentioned in one of Wainwright’s book of walks. We got to the top via Cat Ghyll. When we reached the top and looked over the Low Fell, trying hard to stand upright in the now very strong winds and lashing rain we all realised a return journey was a wiser option than carrying on across exposed bog and moorland. So, after huddling in an amazingly dry ditch behind a stone wall to have a snack and drinks break, we made our way down again.

Ken and Lynne were brilliant leaders. We couldn’t have done it without them – they even found a short cut back to the hostel. That night we had a lovely meal in one of the pubs they had found on their pub crawl (yes it was them) . A fitting end to a very different kind of New Year start for me – and we saw red squirrels as well! Thanks for organising such a great break Ken – you have had your orders for more, and more, and more, and more ……….

Pam Fleisch, 4th January 2014

EFOG's annual New Year Day Walk – 2014

On a day on which both the weather forecast and the clouds threatened rain, I arrived at Loughton Station to find precisely no-one else from the Group there. There was a down-and-out – pestering me for 40pence for his Oyster Card – but I have a policy and am well known to be a miserable O.G. The first part comes with practice, the second with age.

As usual at Loughton Station, I had to question myself as to whether I'd got the place right, or the time, but was pretty sure about the day: I remembered that it had been explosively noisy for a few hours during the night. Then Cliff turned up, so I was reassured that my time-and-place was correct, leaving – on such a threatening day – just my sanity in slight doubt. The latter was never confirmed one way or the other, because EFOG members to an eventual value of fourteen began arriving for the annual New Year's Day walk.

At The Stubbles car parkPeter led the quickly-straggling group through relatively familiar Loughton streets, into the Forest by way of The Stubbles car park, then across the plain to Strawberry Hill Pond, which is also known by some as Stubbles Pond. There were – as is often the case – a few wood-carved-and-painted-looking Mandarin ducks floating about, but only a few of us had any interest at all in those and I only mention it because I was one that did.

Stubbles Plain had been waterlogged, the wood beyond the pond was mudlogged, but not so bad as what was to come. Braving the traffic on the Epping New Road, we crossed to Fairmead Bottom, where one of a good many showers of rain blown in from the south got us. From there, we turned northwards towards Catacomb Corner, at which corner more waterlogging was followed by considerably more mudlogging on the ride that runs parallel with the road. Shortly after I gave up on the mud – which was a while after many had given up on it – the remaining mud-core also took to the easy road.

We reached Ann and Duncan's house at High Beech, with a long and ponderous queue at the front door as more rain fell on those at the back whilst those at the front were taking off their boots and those already inside were taking off their waterproofs. By the time I got in, most were already sitting comfortably in settees and armchairs chatting. Our hosts had invited us for teas and coffees, but in fact had gone further, with various nibbles, bread, cheese and even Christmas cake. Very nice and Thank You.

It was of course raining quite heavily after we'd overstayed our welcome, and up by the King's Oak half decided to take the pretty but muddy route back to Loughton through the Forest and the others – including me – decided to take the easy but boring route along the roads.

Now this doesn't sound the best of walks that EFOG have been on, and if I compare it to my Ching one a couple of days ago, where there was about 90% less mud and 99% more sun, then those that came on both will see that if they did complain of mud on the Ching walk then they were silly to come on the New Year Day one. In fact, I'm bloomin' glad that I did go, and that 13 others did too – because otherwise 2014 would have got off to a really miserable start.

Peter did well to offer to lead the walk, and did well in leading it. And all fourteen of us did well to turn out for it. Thanks to Peter for taking the lead and to Duncan and Ann for the victuals and shelter.

Paul Ferris, 2^nd January 2014

Walking the Ching - 29th December 2013

The River Ching is a small but important tributary of the Lea, with its source in Epping Forest and its final above-ground presence - at least as far as accessibility is concerned - near to Morrison's supermarket in the south of Chingford. The name of “Chingford” might seem to have originated from a dwelling place where there was a ford crossing the Ching, but in fact the river took its name from the settlement. How the settlement got its name is not so certain : Ching is an Old English word for King – so possibly “King's Ford”, but the accepted version is “Shingly Ford”.

By Walthamstow Greyound StadiumAnyway, fourteen of us began the walk at Morrison's car park at 11am on a lovely sunny day. Adjacent to the south edge of the store was our first view of the river. The Ching runs in a muddy channel through an overgrown corridor of vegetation including some large willow trees before disappearing into culverts which carry it under the North Circular Road, past the Banbury Reservoir and into the Lea. The corridor could be attractive enough, but for the dumped rubbish hereabouts. Eastwards from here, the river flows alongside a public footpath, again tree-and-shrub lined and even waymarked “The Ching Way”. After a few hundred meters the footpath reaches Chingford Road, directly opposite the old greyhound stadium. Pam told us about the residential development of almost 300 homes that is taking place on the site, in which it is hoped that the main structure of the Grade 2 listed building will be retained.

Some of the group spotted what may have been a mink in a small open space by the stadium, where the river runs behind the gardens of houses, making it inaccessible to us walkers. We were soon able to walk by the river again by means of a foot/cycle path at the east end of the stadium, where sports fields and public open areas give something of a sense of open-ness to the surroundings. More street walking, with the river behind houses, then again river-side as it A peaceful view of the River Ching in winter...and we passed under the Liverpool Street to Chingford railway line. The route then took us behind houses, with the river to the left, in a slightly overgrown corridor near Hale End, and along Vincent Road to emerge into a more open and kempt area where the river-side features had become more appreciated and landscaped. Here too were allotments - sensible use of a flood-plain it would seem – and Val told us how she used to walk up the Ching itself, in the water, all the way to its source! Now there is an idea for really walking the Ching!

We reached Highams Park Lake, which Humphrey Repton formed by damming the Ching with stones from the old London Bridge. The river itself was diverted to flow to the west of the lake, and we walked alongside the diverted course where the first real mud was encountered. In the bright sunshine, with the ground covered in reddish leaves, the wood was more autumnal-looking than wintery. Emerging from the trees – leaving the woodpeckers, nuthatch and parakeets behind – we crossed Chingford Lane and walked in sunshine that was even warm, on grass that was sodden and in places still frosted, down towards the roundabout at Chingford Hatch, under which the Ching flows. Chingdale Road, below Friday Hill, was the last of the streets that separated us from the river; beyond that it is a forest walk to the source, with just two roads to cross.

...somewhat less peaceful now that EFOG have arrived?Between Chingdale Road and Whitehall Plain, the wood is an attractive part of the forest which is, perhaps, less familiar to most of us than other parts. It is relatively open woodland with a mix of oaks and hornbeam through which the Ching runs in a series of wonderful meanders. We discussed the formation of meanders and even where the word comes from (the River Menderez), and even had a moment to reflect on the idea of Psychogeography. Now you don't get that on many walks!

Whitehall Plain was effectively a bog, into which none of us – luckily – were sucked into oblivion, although a few came close. The Ching is accessible here, but we stuck to a clear path a little above it to emerge at Rangers Road. Crossing this, in a short way we turned right along an accessible path, to cross the Cuckoo Brook just as it meets the Ching, then walked sharply up-slope to reach Connaught Water, from which – of course – the Ching flows.

Half of EFOG's Ching walkers near the sourceHalf of the group by this time had had enough of the incredibly fast pace that I'd kept up (you know me!) or possibly of the mud or the sunshine, and made their way to the Royal Forest Hotel. The rest gamely circumnavigated the lake – which was pretty much iced-over – but we paused at the far end to think about the source of the River Ching. When I'd walked it previously I investigated one or two streams – or perhaps ditches – that flow into the lake. One, to the east, is pretty-much un-followable due to blackthorn. The other heading north shows on maps to originate somewhere up on Whitehouse Plain. Perhaps it is sufficient to say that drainage into what is now Connaught Water from a variety of sources from higher ground constitute the sources of the river itself. It may well be possible to wade/walk it for much of the length that we covered if water levels are low, but it is a significant little river, spoilt in places simply by disrespect in the form mainly of rubbish-dumping or just neglect, or cut off from view by means of houses.

In Dagenham, the Mayes Brook – which originates near Chadwell Heath and reaches the River Lea at Barking Creek – ran in an ugly and overgrown artificial channel through Mayes Park. Over the last few years the opening-up and re-landscaping of the brook has resulted in a 45 hectare park which is now a showcase of how a public green space can help cope with the risks of flooding from climate change, enhance wildlife and present a much more aesthetic and accessible water-side area. We should be treasuring our rivers and streams, not abusing them or loosing them. The Ching – considering its location – is still pretty good; it could be better with a bit of love.

Most of us finished off the day's walk by having a meal at the Royal Forest Hotel before catching a bus back to near our starting point. Thanks to Amina, Fred, Ken, Madeleine, Marilyn, Pam, Sue S., Susan B., Val, Mick and June, Jenny and Garry for accompanying me on this 5-or-so mile walk, and I won't apologise for the mud because I told you there was some Forest-walking!

Paul Ferris   30th December 2013