London LOOP Section 22 – Harold Wood to Upminster 2nd January 2011

Having arrived at our start point on previous sections of the LOOP by car, we decide to let the train take the strain. A walk to Romford Station is followed by a short train ride to Harold Wood. Still excited by the change in transport method employed, we strike out along the LOOP, which actually passes right past the station entrance and down Oak Road before turning into Archibald Road, an unmade suburban street with a fine collection of allotments on the left hand side.

Having lived in more rural locations for much of my life, I have probably taken large gardens for granted. Living in London, you become acutely aware of how small many people’s back garden plots are. The existence of allotments is therefore of considerable importance to many of its citizens. Long waiting lists exist for these modest tracts of fertile topsoil, that are tended with such loving care. Even in the winter-time rows of broccoli, leeks and root crops poke their tops out through the snow and provide a welcome accompaniment to roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. Long may the workers of these havens of peace and productivity resist the depredations of greedy developers and misguided planners.

The Allotments

At the end of Archibald Road we briefly negotiate Squirrels Heath Road before entering the pleasant Harold Wood Park area of parkland. The park has a much used and well-loved feel to it, with tennis courts, playgrounds and a pavilion to service the needs of the local community.

Soon we are reacquainted with River Ingrebourne, which has enjoyed numerous different names since we joined it at Noak Hill on the last section. We will follow this course for many miles ahead, before it disgorges its waters into the Thames at Rainham.

Once across the bridge over the Ingrebourne we are in Pages Wood. A rainbow arch greets us as we enter this extension of Harold Wood’s public open space. The contrast between the intensely managed suburban park and its wilder rural cousin is striking. Nonetheless people make good use of both areas, but often for different pursuits. Here we encounter dog walkers, parents with young families enjoying the long grass peppered with teasel heads and an impressively athletic young lady pounding up and down the rough track at an alarming speed.

We are informed by the LOOP directions that 100,000 trees were planted here by the Forestry Commission some 10 years earlier. Another 10 years and this section of the LOOP will have a distinct forest feel to it. To our right the Ingrebourne wends its way through classic meander loops as its water erode the substrate beneath. Much of this may well be of glacial origin, since the greatest southerly extent of Ice Age glaciation in Britain reached as far as Hornchurch, only a mile or two from here. As we watch the water curling its way downstream, a pair of Mallards take advantage of the free ride, like children at Alton Towers.

The walk through Pages Wood continues past several useful sculpted benches for a further mile or so, before spitting us rudely out onto Hall Lane and a less attractive section of busy road. At the end of Hall Lane we come to the A127, one of a number of arterial roads that cut The LOOP. Hall Lane takes us over the mass of traffic below, and then for a mile and a half’s slog alongside tarmac, before the blessed relief of River Drive on our right. Hopefully the powers-that-be will find a way of taking the LOOP alongside the Ingrebourne, which burbles its merry way down the valley off to our right. Obviously this will involve negotiations with landowners, to enable walkers to have access across their land, as well as perhaps a footbridge over the A127 at this point. The effort would be well spent, with a dull section of this important long distance path being transformed into a pleasant rural walk.

Having rejoined the Ingrebourne, we turn south westerly and are escorted by its meandering waters alongside fields, leaving it to walk adjacent to the grounds of Emerson Park School. Emerson Park School lays claim to be one of the best achieving schools in Havering, however the school grounds and architecture are reminiscent of so many functional schools and other establishments around the UK. An uninspiring edifice of glass and mown grass may be good for academic learning and athletic achievement respectively, but biodiversity and aesthetics seem to have been thrown out of the schools impressive array of windows.

So many state funded schools appear to be hamstrung with a similar lack of imagination. I know, having taught in a good few myself. I have also taught in the private sector and been impressed with a much greater preparedness here to develop the school grounds as a place for children to explore nature and to enjoy buildings that have a stimulating form, as well as function. Perhaps the difference is that the state machine demands simplicity, whilst private schools are small enough to be able to respond to the dissenting and enlightened voices of their school community.

As we walk alongside the school grounds the lack of concern for the local environment is evident, with large amounts of litter, discarded food containers and other school based flotsam and jetsam having accumulated against the fence downwind of the school. Perhaps this is an intentional strategy on behalf of the powers that be. Once enough of this mess has gathered, perhaps squads of miscreants are marched down with bags and gloves to collect up this ingeniously accumulated waste. I suspect this is turning into a work of fiction and we quickly move on.

A little further on we encounter a rather guilty looking fox, a demeanour that all foxes appear to possess. He quickly disappears into the line of alder trees adjacent to the Ingrebourne. However, no sooner has he disappeared then a robin starts up on a nearby branch. Both the fox and the robin are quintessentially British animals and we are so taken by the appearance of these two characters that I miss the next waymarker and end up walking along the top of the next field, rather than the bottom edge. This is a minor detour, but is fraught with problems as we find ourselves trying to make sense of the rather simple LOOP map, whilst attempting to cross ditches and avoid areas of deep mud. I suspect our friends over at Emerson Park School make good use of this for cross country running, judging by the number of footprints in the sticky London Clay soil.

Eventually we rejoin the LOOP and pass along the backs of a row of houses. For some reason either the people responsible for fixing the LOOP waymark posts in place, have a keen sense of humour, or mother nature has decided to play a joke on us. It appears that we are expected to walk through a sea of brambles, whilst the obvious path is in the shorter vegetation some 4 or 5 metres away from the line of markers. I suspect this is yet another conspiracy by the forces of authority, or more likely there is a legal right of way, which just happens to be swamped by brambles and this is where the markers have to go. If this is so, perhaps someone will come and clear the official route just to make one befuddled walker happier.

At the top end of the field we find a cut-through leading out onto Benets Road and then the beautifully named Wingletye Lane. I am intrigued what a wingle might be. D and D (Dungeons and Dragons?) Wiki tells us they are “winged hunters with a love of nature, themselves, and fun”. The Urban Dictionary gives a number of interesting definitions, one of which is an alternative name for the penis. I suspect neither of these gives much of a clue to the road’s origins.

Wingletye Lane takes us over the railway line that links Upminster to Romford. Once across the bridge we turn left onto a quieter suburban road (Minster Way), which takes us to the end of the section at Upminster Bridge Underground Station. However, since we have to return to Romford, we need to walk a further mile or so to Upminster Station. This takes us up St Mary’s Lane past Upminster Windmill, one of the best surviving examples of an English smock mill, before arriving leg weary at the station.

Opposite Upminster Station is a small antique shop. In the window is a hand written notice imploring visitors to restrain themselves should they chance upon one of the many celebrities who live in the numerous opulent millionaire properties of Emerson Park. Who’d be a celebrity? You are minding your own business browsing the shelves looking for a nice piece of china and someone has the temerity to engage you in conversation or ask you for your autograph. Amused by this episode we board the train to Romford, confident in the knowledge that we are unlikely to meet anyone famous there.