Walking the Lea Valley 10: MARSHY-LEA Tottenham Hale → Hackney Marsh(3 miles)
If you want to access the Lea via the Underground, head for Tottenham Hale. The tiled murals on the Victoria line platforms show the medieval ferry that used to exist here, whereas a modern design would probably show Tottenham Lock and its tall alien-looking lamppost [photo]. There are two parallel locks, only one of which is currently operational, so it was fun watching a day-tripping narrowboat heading ignorantly into the wrong one and then attempting to manoeuvre some kind of three point turn into the other.
Downstream, from here almost to the Olympic Stadium, there's a very distinct land use pattern. To the west of the canalised river the banks are mostly residential, and modern residential at that. There'd once have been plenty of industry here but most of that's long moved on, and anyway, waterside property's where it's at these days. Some are older Hackney-slope habitations, some are more recent labyrinthine estates, and some are speculative glass-and-steel developments that enthuse 21st century estate agents. In contrast, nobody at all lives on the opposite, eastern, bank (not unless they're afloat). The broad Lea floodplain is far too risky for any major settlement so the space is given over to reservoirs and marshland. This is good news for wildfowl and nature-lovers, and means the view from bedrooms and balconies opposite is generally rather lovely.
The first greenspace on my walk down from Tottenham was at Markfield Park. It's recently been given a multi-million pound makeover by the local council, and is scheduled to be officially 'reopened' in a fortnight's time. At the heart of the regeneration is the Markfield Beam Engine Museum, formerly the sewage treatment works for the surrounding area, and housing a (fully functioning, eventually) Victorian Steam Pump. There's further evidence of the industrial past as Haringey made way for Hackney, with the triangular timber-loading cranes of Oak Wharf jutting out across the river [photo]. I passed a large number of Orthodox Jewish families along this stretch, out enjoying a towpath walk and wearing their Saturday best (of black, black hats and more black).
Walthamstow Marshes: The arrival of this wide open space was signalled by a rowing club, a cafe and a marina[photo]. All were bustling in the August sunshine, although most visitors seemed happy to watch the on-stream oarsmanship with a cup of tea or baguette in hand. I made a brief diversion along the edge of the Coppermill Stream to visit what may be London's lowest bridge [photo]. Anybody taller than 5'0" needs to duck to get beneath the railway, although it's possible to speed beneath on a bike if you limbo sufficiently low. That's perhaps just as well, given that this obstruction lies on Sustrans National Cycle Route 1. The marsh was ablaze with wildflowers, although some of the long grass had recently been cut for Lammas (following an age-old tradition) and lay piled up in slowly-yellowing haybales. Horses trotted across a diagonal bridleway, delighted dogs bounded about in the undergrowth, and an army of unseen amphibians lurked deep in limpid creeks. There was a barbecue in full swing at the Anchor & Hope at the foot of Harrington Hill - the pub unreachable except via a mighty long footbridge detour. And trains rumbled regularly across the valley over the A.V. Roe arches, which I'd visited only last month on the centenary of Britain's first home-powered aeroplane flight. Already a fence had gone up to seal off his empty workshop space, but a fresh blue plaque enticed passers-by over to view this historic site beneath the viaduct [photo]. But there was so much more on the Marshes that was unmarked, unlabelled, yet equally special. East London's very lucky to have them.
There are so few bridges across the river that Lea Bridge gets away with pretending it's the only one. Stacks more shiny apartments were going up where road meets water, ideally located for Dancing On Ice audience members who'd like to be within skating distance of the Lee Valley Ice Centre. The riverside pub here used to be called the Prince of Wales, but changed sex following a Parisian car crash in 1997. A little further south were the Middlesex Filter Beds, laid down in the 1850s to help provide Londoners with cholera-free water. They're no longer required, and have been transformed into a variety of reedy woody habitats ideal for cultivating wildlife. Human visitors tended to be less well behaved, I noted, noisily picknicking amid the sculptures and flagrantly ignoring the sign saying "dogs must be kept on a leash".
Hackney Marshes: Next up, London's largest sports ground [photo]. There are 80-odd full-sized football pitches on Hackney Marshes - rammed with filthy footballers every Sunday, but ghostly silent for most of the rest of the week. Matches resume next week, if you want to pop down and hear grown men swear. This isn't a true marsh, having been comprehensively drained in medieval times, hence its suitability for the playing of ballgames. Leyton FC started out here, before they went all Orient, but they were based a bit further east. The Lea Valley Walk followed the western edge, with a choice of cyclepath or fenced off towpath - which didn't make for the most exciting route. But, at a bend near the Cow Bridge footbridge, came the first sight of cranes and a crown of white metal beams. Not far now to the Olympic Stadium... and don't forget that 2012 will be coming to Hackney Marshes too, because every world-class Games needs a carpark.
Walking the Lea Valley 11: OLYMPIC-LEA Hackney Marsh → Three Mills(2 miles)
When Olympic officials speak of regenerating the Lower Lea valley, they have in mind only a brief stretch of this 42-mile long river. But that's still a heck of a lot of land to transform. The valley between Hackney Wick and Bow is wide, with more than one waterway snaking southward, so there's plenty of room to cram in a stadium, several arenas, a souped-up swimming pool, an athlete's village and as many branches of McDonalds as spectators' stomachs demand. The main 2012 facilities are being constructed along the banks of the Old River Lea, or dotted at whim between the artificial braids of the Bow Back Rivers. The Lea Valley Walk, however, follows the canalised Lee Navigation, along which many of the Games' backroom facilities are being built. This should mean the towpath remains fully accessible during the construction period, but view of what's really going on will be relatively restricted.
As I approached Hackney Wick, the legendary Lesneytoyfactory still stood tall beside Marshgate Bridge [photo]. If you played with Matchboxcars in your youth, this now-decaying building was the source of all your miniature delight. Take photos while you can, because there's a demolition order on the place plus a planningapplication whose consultation period ended last month. Yet another chunk of history has been judged functionally useless, and will be replaced by yet another mixed-use development including 209 new homes and a fifteen-storey tower. Somewhat ironically, they'll all be living in matchboxes.
Olympic Park: A shady dip beneath the A12 East Cross Route, and then the Olympics hit me full in the face. Here beginneth the building site. The expanse to the left used to be Arena Fields, an open greenspace beside the former Hackney Dog Stadium. Now it's the emergent site of the International Broadcast Centre - a vast (and architecturally vacuous) shed which will also house the world's sporting journalists (assuming any newspapers survive until 2012). On the opposite side is Leabank Square, whose vibrant community campaignsvociferously (though sometimesunwisely) against the noise and dust that now shatter their waterside peace. A few trees along the towpath had been singled out with tape for preservation, the rest have been unceremoniously chopped as the skeleton of the Energy Centre rises alongside [photo].
At White Post Lane I crossed over to the Hertford Canal junction for the best view of the structurally-complete Olympic Stadium[photo]. It'll be a while until the cranes disappear, but the Lea-side panorama is changed forever. A webcam on the roof of Forman's bright pink salmon smokery is keeping its beady eye on construction, although most of the other businesses opposite the stadium remain as tumbledown and unaltered as ever. At Old Ford Lock, where the Roman Road to Colchester once crept cautiously across the river, are the famous BigBreakfast lockkeepers cottages. They're now a private home, somehow magically saved from the Olympic axe despite their immediate proximity to the overshadowing stadium [photo]. At the bottom of Chris and Gaby's garden a blue-boarded wall prevented my passage up the Old River Lea, while a string of barbed yellow buoys did the same for those afloat. Ah 2012 - we can look, but we can't yet touch.
Next to be negotiated was the Northern Outfall Sewer, piping half of London's excrement over my head on its way to the nearby Abbey Mills Pumping station. It can't be the most fragrant neighbour for Fish Island residents cooped up in various residential developments alongside. But I enjoyed the continuing industrial desolation of the next section, because this reminded me of how the Bow Back Rivers had looked before the 2012 eraser scrubbed them away. Concrete mixers, incinerator tanks, leafy trees and a broad algae-filled river - it's good that such vistas still remain as a reminder of times past. But not for long. Once the Olympics are out of the way then Crossrail will be burrowing through, emerging right here at the Pudding Mill Portal and this stretch of the Lea will become first unwalkable and then unrecognisable. Shame, because it's not every day I get to see a heron perched mid-river and then soaring off into the sky just a few hundred yards from my front door. (At this point I popped home for a cup of tea, and enjoyed a comfy overnight stay before returning to complete the remainder of the walk the following day. My apologies, but you probably won't have this luxury)
The most dangerous part of the entire Lea Valley Walk is at the Bow Flyover[photo]. There's a dual carriageway with multi-direction traffic to negotiate, and not a single footbridge, subway or pelican crossing in sight. Look carefully as you cross. Your progress won't be helped either by the black plastic fingerpost recently mis-installed by the Lea Valley Regional Park. The sign for "Old Ford Lock ¾ mile" points to Three Mills while the sign for "Three Mills ½ mile" points to Old Ford Lock - and both are sealed fast so that no E3 vandal can interchange them. I tried, sorry, I tried. There's no sign either to direct you off the Blackwall Tunnel Approach Road except for a metal disc eroded on the pavement, but yes the footpath's down there behind the Calor Gas delivery yard, really it is. I love this back route to Tesco - it's one of the few remaining bits of the Lea with post-usebydate industrial buildings on both banks - and I rarely meet anyone venturing the other way. Again, wholesale eradication and regeneration threatens.
Three Mills: Of the eight medieval watermills on the Lea, only two remain (both as later, but still fairly ancient, reincarnations). The House Mill (1776) [photo] is reputedly the largest tidal mill in the world, used for grinding flour until the 1940s, more recently fully restored. A group of volunteers open up the building to not-many visitors every Sunday from March to October, and I can vouch that the tour is excellent. Try Open House Weekend if you want to look round for free, although I suspect the owners would prefer your cash on one of the quieter weekends either side. Across the cobbles is the Clock Mill (1817) [photo], boasting twin oasthouse chimneys and a characterful canopied belltower. There's a lovely view from the riverside, especially sunlitat low tide with the Lea rushing noisily through the millrace. International filmmakers certainly know about this place - many's the famous director to have recorded at the Three Mills Studios, also home to the first two seasons of UK Big Brother. But for most Londoners Three Mills is a historical delight that they will never even notice, let alone visit.
Walking the Lea Valley 12: TIDAL-LEA Three Mills → Trinity Buoy Wharf(2 miles)
Below Three Mills, the Lea rises and falls. Twice a day, to be precise, because the last couple of miles of the river (along Bow Creek) are properly tidal. Sometimes the water's lapping up to the banks, and then six hours later there'll be barely a trickle creeping across the mud at the bottom of a gapingly empty channel. At such times there's no hope of navigating anything deeper than an origami paper boat, which may explain why the promised flood of waterborne Olympic construction traffic through Prescott Lock has yet to materialise. The final lock on the Lea is at Bow Locks, enhanced by a picture-postcard bow-shaped footbridge which is fun for walkers but a bit of a slog on a bike [photo]. And here, after my 40 mile journey down from Luton, the official footpath faded out. I could have walked down to Limehouse along an adjoining canal, or even taken a carbon monoxide slog along the A12 to Blackwall, but the creeky Lea denied me a through route along its industrially-obstructed banks.
The Fatwalk: There are big plans for this barrier to be removed. A Lea River Park is being designed, including a linear riverside parkland route that will finally link the Olympic Park to the Thames. For some godforsaken reason they're planning on calling this path the "Fatwalk", because it'll be quite wide, even though this is clearly a ghastly name with negative "Obesewaddle" connotations. And yes, I have told the planners this, but they just smiled and repeated their brandspeak - which assumed that local people would all come to understand and love the name eventually. Nevertheless it'll be great to have money spent on linking Bow to Canning Town via a series of activity-packed footpaths, cycleways and bridges. And it'll be the bridges that cost most of the money. A whopper needs to be constructed at Bow Locks, and then another further down because the most suitable bank for access varies as the river progresses. Hopefully by 2012, maybe. Ah, those Olympics are a fantastic catalyst for actually getting things done around here.
Part of the Fatwalk will be an existing creekside footpath along the edge of the Twelvetrees Crescent Industrial estate. It's so little known that I only discovered it existed last month, and yet it's a full kilometre long and streetlit and everything. And it's adorable, not only because of the waterside isolation but also because of the across-river view. In the reedy foreground Bow Creek, which ought to be mudflatty and waterfowl-rich if the tide's out. On the opposite bank a series of warehouses, skips and scrapyards - perfect for adding some failed industrial melancholy. And in the background an unbeatable sequence of iconic East London buildings, including Canary Wharf, Goldfinger's Balfron Tower and a row of three meridian-based gasometers. I defy you to come here on a sunny morning and fail to take an excellent photograph [photo][photo].
Please note: This charming riverside path is currently a dead end, blocked at Poplar Reach by an unbreachable dry dock. So from the far end I could see the next bridge 500 metres away, but I couldn't reach it without a tedious 1½mile inland detour. Please twiddle your thumbs while I relocate to the East India Dock Road viaduct... [photo]
Before entering the Thames, the Lea negotiates the most impressive meander in London. I climbed up to the dual carriageway for an elevated view of this doubled-back wiggle, although it's probably best seen in the opening second of any episode of EastEnders. The western tongue of land is home to the Bow CreekEcology Park[photo], and hence to scores of birds, flowers and insects. Indeed I might have enjoyed some rare peace with the pondlife were it not for the DLR viaduct slicing along the centre, providing a grandstand view of the natural environment (once every three minutes) for any traveller who cared to look out of the window [photo]. I doubt they spotted the two tops-off sunbathers behind a tree near the dipping pool, but I certainly surprised them with my Lea-side explorations. The eastern tongue of land is the Leamouth Peninsula, until recently home to the fat-belching pipework of Pura Foods, more recently completely demolished in readiness for redevelopment. It looked to me like the first foundations of something extensive were being laid, although I can't imagine anybody wanting to live or work here until somebody builds a bridge across to Canning Town station. Not in the foreseeable future, no.
Trinity Buoy Wharf: And finally, really finally, the tidal Lea twists round two final bends to reach the Thames. Tucked in beside the river's mouth I entered TrinityBuoyWharf, a site acquired 200 years ago by Trinity House for the construction and storage of buoys. An experimental lighthouse was also built here, used by Michael Faraday to pioneer a new lamp for the clifftop at Dover, and this stillstands. I climbed to the top partly to listen to a 1000-year-long musical composition, but more particularly for the view. To my right a once-unique 5-storey studio block made of metal containers, and round a bit further those Docklands towers again, rather closer this time. Straight ahead, across the Thames, the 12-spiked millennial white elephant that I can't quite bring myself to name after a mobile phone network [photo]. And down to the left, beyond the bright red lightship [photo], the dividing line where the Lea becomes the Thames [photo]. The departing river looked broad and deep, even maritime, and a whole geography-textbook-chapter distant from the rain-filled trickle I'd started following back in Bedfordshire. I celebrated my achievement with a delicious chocolate milkshake at Fatboy's Diner - the Lea's lowest refreshment outlet. If you ever choose to follow in my footsteps, or even someday walk the Fatwalk, maybe you'll rest your aching feet here too.
NDWalking the Lea Valley
Downstream, from here almost to the Olympic Stadium, there's a very distinct land use pattern. To the west of the canalised river the banks are mostly residential, and modern residential at that. There'd once have been plenty of industry here but most of that's long moved on, and anyway, waterside property's where it's at these days. Some are older Hackney-slope habitations, some are more recent labyrinthine estates, and some are speculative glass-and-steel developments that enthuse 21st century estate agents. In contrast, nobody at all lives on the opposite, eastern, bank (not unless they're afloat). The broad Lea floodplain is far too risky for any major settlement so the space is given over to reservoirs and marshland. This is good news for wildfowl and nature-lovers, and means the view from bedrooms and balconies opposite is generally rather lovely.
Walthamstow Marshes: The arrival of this wide open space was signalled by a rowing club, a cafe and a marina [photo]. All were bustling in the August sunshine, although most visitors seemed happy to watch the on-stream oarsmanship with a cup of tea or baguette in hand. I made a brief diversion along the edge of the Coppermill Stream to visit what may be London's lowest bridge [photo]. Anybody taller than 5'0" needs to duck to get beneath the railway, although it's possible to speed beneath on a bike if you limbo sufficiently low. That's perhaps just as well, given that this obstruction lies on Sustrans National Cycle Route 1. The marsh was ablaze with wildflowers, although some of the long grass had recently been cut for Lammas (following an age-old tradition) and lay piled up in slowly-yellowing haybales. Horses trotted across a diagonal bridleway, delighted dogs bounded about in the undergrowth, and an army of unseen amphibians lurked deep in limpid creeks. There was a barbecue in full swing at the Anchor & Hope at the foot of Harrington Hill - the pub unreachable except via a mighty long footbridge detour. And trains rumbled regularly across the valley over the A.V. Roe arches, which I'd visited only last month on the centenary of Britain's first home-powered aeroplane flight. Already a fence had gone up to seal off his empty workshop space, but a fresh blue plaque enticed passers-by over to view this historic site beneath the viaduct [photo]. But there was so much more on the Marshes that was unmarked, unlabelled, yet equally special. East London's very lucky to have them.
There are so few bridges across the river that Lea Bridge gets away with pretending it's the only one. Stacks more shiny apartments were going up where road meets water, ideally located for Dancing On Ice audience members who'd like to be within skating distance of the Lee Valley Ice Centre. The riverside pub here used to be called the Prince of Wales, but changed sex following a Parisian car crash in 1997. A little further south were the Middlesex Filter Beds, laid down in the 1850s to help provide Londoners with cholera-free water. They're no longer required, and have been transformed into a variety of reedy woody habitats ideal for cultivating wildlife. Human visitors tended to be less well behaved, I noted, noisily picknicking amid the sculptures and flagrantly ignoring the sign saying "dogs must be kept on a leash".
Walking the Lea Valley
When Olympic officials speak of regenerating the Lower Lea valley, they have in mind only a brief stretch of this 42-mile long river. But that's still a heck of a lot of land to transform. The valley between Hackney Wick and Bow is wide, with more than one waterway snaking southward, so there's plenty of room to cram in a stadium, several arenas, a souped-up swimming pool, an athlete's village and as many branches of McDonalds as spectators' stomachs demand. The main 2012 facilities are being constructed along the banks of the Old River Lea, or dotted at whim between the artificial braids of the Bow Back Rivers. The Lea Valley Walk, however, follows the canalised Lee Navigation, along which many of the Games' backroom facilities are being built. This should mean the towpath remains fully accessible during the construction period, but view of what's really going on will be relatively restricted.
Olympic Park: A shady dip beneath the A12 East Cross Route, and then the Olympics hit me full in the face. Here beginneth the building site. The expanse to the left used to be Arena Fields, an open greenspace beside the former Hackney Dog Stadium. Now it's the emergent site of the International Broadcast Centre - a vast (and architecturally vacuous) shed which will also house the world's sporting journalists (assuming any newspapers survive until 2012). On the opposite side is Leabank Square, whose vibrant community campaigns vociferously (though sometimes unwisely) against the noise and dust that now shatter their waterside peace. A few trees along the towpath had been singled out with tape for preservation, the rest have been unceremoniously chopped as the skeleton of the Energy Centre rises alongside [photo].
Next to be negotiated was the Northern Outfall Sewer, piping half of London's excrement over my head on its way to the nearby Abbey Mills Pumping station. It can't be the most fragrant neighbour for Fish Island residents cooped up in various residential developments alongside. But I enjoyed the continuing industrial desolation of the next section, because this reminded me of how the Bow Back Rivers had looked before the 2012 eraser scrubbed them away. Concrete mixers, incinerator tanks, leafy trees and a broad algae-filled river - it's good that such vistas still remain as a reminder of times past. But not for long. Once the Olympics are out of the way then Crossrail will be burrowing through, emerging right here at the Pudding Mill Portal and this stretch of the Lea will become first unwalkable and then unrecognisable. Shame, because it's not every day I get to see a heron perched mid-river and then soaring off into the sky just a few hundred yards from my front door. (At this point I popped home for a cup of tea, and enjoyed a comfy overnight stay before returning to complete the remainder of the walk the following day. My apologies, but you probably won't have this luxury)
Three Mills: Of the eight medieval watermills on the Lea, only two remain (both as later, but still fairly ancient, reincarnations). The House Mill (1776) [photo] is reputedly the largest tidal mill in the world, used for grinding flour until the 1940s, more recently fully restored. A group of volunteers open up the building to not-many visitors every Sunday from March to October, and I can vouch that the tour is excellent. Try Open House Weekend if you want to look round for free, although I suspect the owners would prefer your cash on one of the quieter weekends either side. Across the cobbles is the Clock Mill (1817) [photo], boasting twin oasthouse chimneys and a characterful canopied belltower. There's a lovely view from the riverside, especially sunlit at low tide with the Lea rushing noisily through the millrace. International filmmakers certainly know about this place - many's the famous director to have recorded at the Three Mills Studios, also home to the first two seasons of UK Big Brother. But for most Londoners Three Mills is a historical delight that they will never even notice, let alone visit.
Walking the Lea Valley
Below Three Mills, the Lea rises and falls. Twice a day, to be precise, because the last couple of miles of the river (along Bow Creek) are properly tidal. Sometimes the water's lapping up to the banks, and then six hours later there'll be barely a trickle creeping across the mud at the bottom of a gapingly empty channel. At such times there's no hope of navigating anything deeper than an origami paper boat, which may explain why the promised flood of waterborne Olympic construction traffic through Prescott Lock has yet to materialise. The final lock on the Lea is at Bow Locks, enhanced by a picture-postcard bow-shaped footbridge which is fun for walkers but a bit of a slog on a bike [photo]. And here, after my 40 mile journey down from Luton, the official footpath faded out. I could have walked down to Limehouse along an adjoining canal, or even taken a carbon monoxide slog along the A12 to Blackwall, but the creeky Lea denied me a through route along its industrially-obstructed banks.
Part of the Fatwalk will be an existing creekside footpath along the edge of the Twelvetrees Crescent Industrial estate. It's so little known that I only discovered it existed last month, and yet it's a full kilometre long and streetlit and everything. And it's adorable, not only because of the waterside isolation but also because of the across-river view. In the reedy foreground Bow Creek, which ought to be mudflatty and waterfowl-rich if the tide's out. On the opposite bank a series of warehouses, skips and scrapyards - perfect for adding some failed industrial melancholy. And in the background an unbeatable sequence of iconic East London buildings, including Canary Wharf, Goldfinger's Balfron Tower and a row of three meridian-based gasometers. I defy you to come here on a sunny morning and fail to take an excellent photograph [photo] [photo].
Before entering the Thames, the Lea negotiates the most impressive meander in London. I climbed up to the dual carriageway for an elevated view of this doubled-back wiggle, although it's probably best seen in the opening second of any episode of EastEnders. The western tongue of land is home to the Bow Creek Ecology Park [photo], and hence to scores of birds, flowers and insects. Indeed I might have enjoyed some rare peace with the pondlife were it not for the DLR viaduct slicing along the centre, providing a grandstand view of the natural environment (once every three minutes) for any traveller who cared to look out of the window [photo]. I doubt they spotted the two tops-off sunbathers behind a tree near the dipping pool, but I certainly surprised them with my Lea-side explorations. The eastern tongue of land is the Leamouth Peninsula, until recently home to the fat-belching pipework of Pura Foods, more recently completely demolished in readiness for redevelopment. It looked to me like the first foundations of something extensive were being laid, although I can't imagine anybody wanting to live or work here until somebody builds a bridge across to Canning Town station. Not in the foreseeable future, no.
