Sights, heights and lights

Our last family walk, which I wrote about here, was on a warm and golden autumn afternoon. We used the fabulous book London Adventure Walks for Families again this Saturday, and it couldn't have been more different; cold and drizzly and very, very grey. Despite the uninspiring weather, we had a marvellous time. We followed the walk from the chapter Out of the Ashes as my son's current school history topic is the Great Fire of London, and our adventure began at St Paul's Cathedral pictured above.

Looking up, we were wowed by the cathedral's vastness and its distinctive dome. We listened as Daddy read out how the fire of 1666 raged through this very spot and how, despite being made of stone, the cathedral that stood here was destroyed. Designed by architect Sir Christopher Wren, this was one of the most extraordinary new buildings to emerge out of the ashes, and it took 35 years to build.

But it was the scene at ground level that stole the show: the tents of the Occupy London encampment surrounding the cathedral, and the protesters in their hundreds - either handing out flyers or sitting on the steps listening to a constant stream of amplified speeches. What a sight! Buddy and Daisy were of course intrigued; we explained, as best we could, who the people were and why they were there.

After getting their faces painted in this almost festival-like atmosphere, we ventured into the cathedral itself and, with the aid of the children's audio guides, found out more about the effects of the Great Fire. Then we decided to get some height on the situation. Could we do it? Could we climb the 257 steps to the Whispering Gallery? Could we go even higher to the Stone Gallery - another 119 steps? And could we, should we attempt to make it all the way to the Golden Gallery; the very top of St Paul's famous dome? That would mean climbing 528 steps altogether, and put us nearly 100m above the ground. Gulp.

Well, after much huffing and puffing, and stopping to take in the views at each level - we made it. On the last stretch (a wrought iron, spiral staircase) I had to button down my burgeoning vertiginous butterflies. We also had to keep Buddy and Daisy happy, motivated and climbing. And the way we did this? By singing. London's Burning to be precise. We changed the word engines to buckets when Buddy pointed out "there were no [fire] engines in 1666." [We have since found evidence of 17th century 'fire engines' here]. Its call and response structure was just what we needed to keep our spirits up as we stepped onwards and upwards. It worked a treat.

London's burning

London's burning

Fetch the bucket

Fetch the bucket

Fire! Fire!

Fire! Fire!

Pour on water

Pour on water

At the top we were rewarded for our efforts with this great view - an impressive skyline despite the rather murky conditions.

Back at ground level the book led us towards the very street where The Great Fire began - Pudding Lane. This was the motivation Buddy and Daisy needed; to reach the source of the blaze that practically razed London to the ground nearly 350 years ago.

The walk guided us through a very interesting part of town where the numerous churches built after the fire (many designed by Wren) sit proudly with, if somewhat dwarfed by, the shiny new buildings of the city. Our book reminded us that one of the churches we passed, St Mary-Le-Bow, features in the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons. We reached Pudding Lane just as it was getting dark, and there, stunningly lit as if to say well done was Wren's Monument to the Great Fire: a 61m Doric column.

We could have easily finished our walk there but we noticed that the column was still open to visitors for another 15 minutes. Could Buddy and Daisy climb another 311 steps? Could I hide my vertigo twice in one day?

As the photograph above is of the inside of the column, you can probably guess the answer: we did! Thank goodness for being reminded of the rhyme Oranges and Lemons earlier because this was the much needed motivational song for this last climb of the day.

Oranges and Lemons

Say the bells of St Clement's

You owe me five farthings

Say the bells of St Martin's

When will you pay me?

Say the bells of Old Bailey

When I grow rich

Say the bells of Shoreditch

When we that be?

Say the bells of Stepney

I do not know

Says the great bell of Bow

And at the top we were once again rewarded with fantastic views of London. This time the view was against a darker sky and hundreds of twinkling lights decorated the cityscape - it was absolutely spectacular.

So there ended our walk, one that was rather more about the sights, heights and lights of London today than tales of flames and rebuilding in the 17th century. However, the certificate we all received for climbing Wren's Monument reminded us of the original reason for our outing. Both children have since taken their certificates to school to show their classmates - and are very proud of their climbing credentials.

Hip Hampstead Heath

On Sunday we had an action-packed visit to Hampstead Heath. My eldest was chief map reader and my youngest was in charge of checking that we were, at all times, headed towards an ice cream vendor. The 3 mile circular walk was from a favourite book of ours - Adventure Walks for Families in and around London - and we completed it in about 3 hours of glorious afternoon sunshine.

First, our walk took us to the top of Parliament Hill (the second highest land point in London) where we spotted famous buildings on the skyline and tried not to step on the young, cool crowd gathered at its summit. There were several kites being flown in the only breeze to be found across the city; thus it brilliantly lived up to its nickname of Kite Hill. But what really caught my children's attention was a nearby twinkling bejewelled tree. On closer inspection we discovered that its spinning decorations were in fact empty drinks cans lovingly suspended from the branches by thin thread; fabulous.

Then we started our descent, down a grassy path towards the ponds. With around twenty-five ponds on the Heath, built about 300 years ago to supply London with water*, they now each have a different use. On our walk we passed the men's bathing pond...

...and the model boating pond (sadly, there were no boats afloat).

Although our route led us away from the women's bathing pond, where I would have happily plunged - it was incredibly hot by now, it did provide us with some welcome shade in the ancient oak woods of the Iveagh Bequest. At this point the boys and their map got slightly ahead of us girls, but we didn't mind; Daisy was in a fairy-inspired reverie by now. Every tree and nook was part of fairyland apparently, and she sang to herself as we strolled through the shady dell...

I see the moon and the moon sees me

Over the head of the old oak tree.

Why do the stars all shine on me?

Shine on the one I love.

Out of the woods and into the heat of the sun we caught up with the boys. Daisy checked (again) that we were definitely en route to ice cream - she was seriously flagging now. Kenwood House peeped over the horizon in the nick of time and helped us motivate Daisy ice cream-wards - up the grassy, well-manicured bank towards its cafe.

After a long rest, water, ice creams of course, and a quick game of frisbee, we headed back. Our route took us past a fabulous Henry Moore sculpture. And this was where Daisy decided that she'd had enough walking. She was finished. I can't remember how we got her moving again but I do remember there were tears, a tantrum, a cooling down period, a deal struck, then hugs and finally reluctant compliance. Oh dear. Happily her spirits lifted suddenly when we walked through the amazing birch wood made golden by the setting sun (pictured at the top). Buddy and Daddy led us up our final ascent of the day - Kite Hill again - in time for a last look at the fast-sinking sun along with all the achingly hip dudes with their guitars, cigarettes and alcohol.

As we finished our walk, striding downhill towards the station, we could see the city's skyline burnished gold, reflecting the sunset. It was a particularly cool way, according to Buddy, to finish our exciting outing. So cool in fact, I'm glad I tried out the 'hipstamatic' camera App on my phone for the photos - I think it captures hip Hampstead Heath rather well.

* from Adventure Walks with Families in and around London by Becky Jones and Clare Lewis.

Alice in Wonderland walk

At the weekend we took a train to Oxford and used the brilliant book Adventure Walks for Families in and around London to give our outing a theme. We've enjoyed a few of its suggested walks now, including one expedition that got us looking for dragons in a Buckinghamshire forest. This particular chapter led us to Port Meadow just outside Oxford - the very place on the river that inspired the stories of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland.

We took it in turns to wear the White Rabbit's ears, the Queen of Hearts' crown and a cupcake Alice band - as pictured below. To start proceedings we had a Mad Hatter's tea party picnic on the riverbank and then in alternating sunshine and showers we completed the lovely 3.5 mile walk through idyllic countryside - the dreaming spires of Oxford on the horizon. We collected about 20 swan feathers, spectacularly huge and pristinely white, and several fresh-water mussel shells; their glistening mother-of-pearl interiors tempting us to retrieve them despite the extremely muddy bank.

We had a caucus race to dry off after a particularly heavy shower of rain - with prizes of sweets. The children weren't too concerned about the lack of peppermints and thimble (the only things Alice had to hand in the story). Along the west bank of the river we spotted a rabbit warren and, in the distance, its shy inhabitants hopping happily around the meadow. It's easy to see how Dodgson (aka Lewis Carroll) got his idea for Alice to fall down a rabbit hole to begin her adventure - some of the burrows were enormous.

We meandered back along the River Thames watching and waving at the boats humming contentedly up and down the river. Buddy and Daisy completely charmed the members of one crew and got to help moor their boat - a unique experience they'll not forget in a hurry.

After such adventures - even without falling down rabbit holes or disappearing into a fantastical world - Buddy and Daisy were exhausted. Buddy managed to stay awake and enjoyed a good read of our abridged version of Alice's adventures, but Daisy drifted off to sleep - no doubt dreaming about her very own Wonderland.