I met Harry at 9:20 at Victoria Station which meant rising at 6:45 and leaving the house just after 8 am. I had written to Pinn Medical Centre regarding my appointment at Harefield which turned out to be no appointment at all at 8 am when it opened.
Harry had already arrived and we hung around for 10 minutes until the Freedom Pass took effect and then embarked on our journey to Sole Street. The name of the station captures the nature of the small village. One street with a small general store. We had to walk on the fairly busy road for a short way until we turned off to the right. The book’s instructions directed us to turn left at The Whitehouse. However although we came across painted white we walked passed because it had been renamed. We continued down a long hill. When we reached at the t-junction the only sign offered us the opportunity to return to Sole Street and no sign of our destination of Cobham.
We stopped a passing motorist and he directed us to the small village. We climbed back up the hill, down the next dale and up again until we arrived at Cobham. After a few chats we managed to reach the church.
St Mary Magdalene Church Cobham dates back to the 13th Century with a nave built in the 14th Century. The church was further restored in the 19th Century.
Across the road stands The Leather Bottle a favourite haunt of Dickens. Inside the pub apparently you can find much memorabilia to the great man. We didn’t visit because the pub looked closed. We marched through the centre of Cobham to the war memorial. Here Harry instead that we go through a gate and walk down towards Cobham House, a grand mansion at the end of grassy path lined with trees. When we arrived near the big house a sign pointed out that we could not pass and we turned off. Our second navigational error. I have to say that I wanted to continue in what would have been the correct direction.
When we returned to the route following another climb we met a cyclist who suggested we follow the route necessary to arrive in Shorne our next destination. We walked along merrily chatting straight along their very clear path. We passed the Darnley Mausoleum designed by James Wyatt for the 4th Earl of Darnley of Cobham according to detail instructions in the will of the 3rd Earl. Finished in 1808 the mausoleum never held a body and now comes under the ownership of the National Trust.
Passing by we continued along the path. As we descended another steep hill we came across the cyclist who had given us directions before. He told us that we had missed our path and that we should have turned before we reached the mausoleum. Again we had made a major mistake in our navigation. We decided to change tack and go to Higham from which the train departs for our journey back to London and find a pub where we could have a bite to eat.
The rain that had treated for the last two hours now began to fall. At the bottom of the hill we passed through a tunnel under a motorway. One the other side of the road we came upon a council estate and a rotten looking pub so we decided to walk on despite the fact we were getting wet. By now I had taken over the directions using Google Maps.
More uphill ensued to Watling Street which is now a major road leading to the M25. We walked along this highway and then headed off and downhill onto a small road without pavement. At the bottom we faced another very long uphill trek to the top of Gadds Hill made famous by Shakespeare. He tells the story of how Falstaff ran from a group of gentlemen who he and colleagues had tried to rob on the road to Canterbury. I had located a pub called the Sir John Falstaff as a place to eat and drink.
When we arrived at the inn we had a warm welcome from the bar maid and we ordered a ½ plus a Guinness. However they didn’t serve food. The place seemed to be crumbling around the bar and the two other customers. We left fairly quickly and walked on towards the station. Higham is not a pretty spot with very poor housing. After awhile we came across the Gardeners arms and entered. A few more customers here but still a pretty bleak place. They did however serve food of a kind. I ordered sausages and chips and Harry had cheese nachos. Both choices were pretty grim.
We ate our food finished our drinks and descended for at least ¾ mile down to the station where we picked up the 3:20 train to Luton. Harry disembarked at Westcomb Park and I continued to Farringdon where I crossed over to the Met Line for the journey home. Just after Baker St a man sitting almost opposite started to scream and shout, firstly at his phone and then he began to pick on the people around. He squalled out Fucking bastards I’ll kill them, I’ll kill you lot you bastards. I asked him to calm down at which point he started to wave his stick at me. Someone intervened but he carried on. I moved away but by this time a couple of people had pressed the emergency bell and the police arrived to try and calm him down. They weren’t very successful. At Harrow I moved trains as there was another Watford service on the adjoining platform.
Eventually I arrived home after a short trip to Sainsbury’s at 6 pm. Phew.