Harry and I met up next door to Wapping station at a small coffee shop. For the first time in a long time I bought a croissant as well as a flat white. I will have to find out the difference between a flat white and a cappuccino. Harry appeared in his usual cheerful way, today sporting colour coordinated dress, well the clothes had a similarity of colour at least.
We drank our coffee and he updated me on the state of Jo. She has now returned home and can walk with the help of a zimmer frame or walking sticks. Later when we stopped for lunch she called and I said a few words to her. She seemed in good form, laughing and joking. Remarkable considering the journey she has been through since April.
We set off on the walk. Harry said we would be doing the second part of a Wapping walk that we had done before but we should head in the opposite direction to the book’s (London’s Hidden Walks) suggested route. We set off and I warned him we were heading in the wrong direction but he insisted we proceed as per his instructions. After a few minutes we turned round and headed back. It didn’t take long before I realised that we had seen this place before. It didn’t matter. The point of the exercise has always involved having a chat and enjoying each others company.
We stopped to look over the Thames.
From the Thames we turned in land and passed an old school for the poor in Scandrett St. built in the early 18th Century and now converted into flats.
We wandered on through Wapping Gardens with its children’s playground and out at Tench Street. At the end of the Street sits a pub called Turner’s Old Star. Reputedly a pub owned by the artist WM Turner where he installed his mistress as the landlady. Onwards through Wapping Green onto Wapping Lane where we popped into St Peter’s of London Docks.
Inside the church sat a mother and daughter. I tried to communicate to her, but she mumbled and then I realised she didn’t speak English and she said she was French. I didn’t feel up to chatting in French and left.
At the end of Wapping Lane we crossed The Highway and extremely busy road that runs west to East following the river and found ourselves in the churchyard of St George-in-the-East of 6 London churches built by Hawksmoor (1664-1736)
The Luftwaffe did their best to destroy this part of London and St George’s received a fair battering. The interior of the church was blown out and then in the 1960’s a new inside was built. Harry and I walked around to see. The architect responsible deserves no praise he has produced a monstrosity inside this great classical/baroque building with no sympathy for the original design.
We retraced our steps passing by Tobacco Dock. When the dock closed some entrepreneur thought he could make a shopping centre of exhibition space, but the whole development looks like it will crumble down just as the dry dock boats are rusting outside the building.
We returned to Wapping High Street with its wharf’s now converted to luxury flats and stopped in The Captain Kidd pub for a drink. I maintained my non-drinking policy for the day and had a J2O while Harry downed a pint. We met another three old guyers and chatted to them for awhile. Seated outside the five of us decided to leave when we felt a little rain coming down.
We continued along the Thames path, but Harry said he wanted to discontinue following the guide book even though it had stopped raining very shortly after we had left the pub. I agreed. We passed by the front of the Tower of London and underneath Tower Bridge and walked all the way to London Bridge which we crossed. Harry suggested we have a bite to eat at The George just off Borough High Street. The George is an old coaching inn and there are several other yards along the High St that also used to contain inns.
Harry bought me a sandwich and drink. I ordered a toasted cheese sandwich which I can truly was horrible. Four slices of bread and what looked like a dairy lea slice in the middle spread very thinly. Harry had a chicken Ciabatta but had to send it back because the chicken wasn’t cooked.
We had our one drink, mine a fizzy water and left. We will never return. You can see harry striding off in the background.
We both headed for the Jubilee Line at London Bridge, Harry to go east while I headed home westwards.