Ride the change: cycling from London to Glasgow for the climate

Instead of cycling the full Ride the Change route from London to Glasgow, Nicola Baird joins the first two days (135.4 miles). Here she relives the pedally sweat, while wondering how much of a metaphor this truncated journey could become – keen to meet targets, but just not managing because life gets in the way 

Ride the Change: Nicola with day two cycling companion, Anne.

Even amateur long-distance cyclists are watertight planners. Not just their super-technical kit – an ensemble of lycra and high viz suitable for any weather that is likely to be encountered during 70-mile days of pedalling – but also the detail about when to take a break, and what to eat and drink.  On the Ride the Change cycle from London to Glasgow where the COP26 meeting is happening (a year late thanks to Covid-19), it’s like joining a group of Olympic athletes who prefer to talk the detail of climate campaigning rather than incremental fitness gains made so popular by Team Sky’s Bradley Wiggins.

There are more than 170 people on Ride the Change’s first day (24 October), with 70 who plan to take the next seven days to cycle 475 miles from London to Scotland. Their aim is to inspire all sorts of people to take climate action before the crucial COP26 climate meeting in Glasgow. Some will be working in the meeting’s Green Zone. Most have jobs in addition to being climate activists… all also have super resilience, spare inner tubes and gadgets that make the navigating a little easier: totting up the miles ridden at the same time as counting down the miles left to go. Analytics will soon become as important as ideas about cutting carbon emissions.

Just like the participants of COP26 I started with big ambition. They want to save the world. I just want to do a big cycle ride with likeminded people.

But life gets in the way of the best intentions.

After two days I parked my bike – now with a flat front tyre – at Coventry train station’s cycle racks (which are not even covered!). I’d told friends I was going to Glasgow, but I also knew that there were more important tasks that I needed to do during the same time when I should be pedalling. My heart and legs were willing, but being human I also needed to prioritise a visit to my friend who’d been having a bad time and lives not so far from Coventry. And after that I hoped to visit my daughter who’d just moved to Edinburgh. So, yes, I will get to Scotland, but it will be the wrong city because I’m no longer following the ‘plan’. 

This ability to be side-tracked (and put things off) is a massive problem for all us humans when it comes to climate change and COP26. We have the ambition to tackle the climate crisis but repeatedly take detours.

We will hear over the news how the Glasgow meeting goes in early November. We all hope that keeping the temperature below a 1.5C rise will be possible. We want country plans (the NDCs) for 2030, 2040 and even 2050 to be achieveable. We must have climate justice and a rejig to our economy so fossil fuel energy comes to a stop. But it’s even easier to deviate and delay if you’re a world leader with competing pressures. 

Ride the Change

Sometimes being in a group with a shared aim is truly energising, so long as you stay with the group. For me the hard work of cycling a long, long way starts the moment we all pass the dramatic backdrops of Westminster Bridge, the Houses of Parliament and Buckingham Palace, because that’s where I lose everyone. I’m not sure I notice this at first as traffic is noisy along London’s busy Edgware Road. I’m concentrating on what’s to come: worrying about traffic, my ability to navigate in the dark and how my bike will cope with big hills and muddy off-road sections. Fortunately Brake the Cycle/Adventure Uncovered, who specialise in cycling holidays, have provided a route which mostly takes us on quieter or flatter directions.

I’m joining for just two days, which will see my very ordinary get-around Finsbury Park bike take me 135.4 miles. We’ll climb up over the Chiltern hills, drop into Oxfordshire and then network over cider and climate chat in the evenings. Some of the group are staying with friends or even camping, although many, like me, have booked into Premier Inns because they let you take your bike into the room. It’s turning into a pricey protest.

The cycling speed and distance is also well outside my comfort zone. I’m used to doing 10 miles max, rather slowly and always punctuated by traffic lights. What’s more I’m 57 years old. But I love being outside and I love talking with people who want to do something about tackling the climate crisis. So for the past two months I’ve been gradually upping my cycle abilities in a bid to have a go at getting to Glasgow.  Aside from having to get fitter, it’s not too hard to organise a bike super-service (thank you Finsbury Park Cycles) or ask keen long-distance cyclists to explain the intricacies of Kamoot or Ride with GPS. I also have a few chats about battery life with Just Eat and Deliveroo drivers when we happen to stop at Highbury Corner’s traffic lights - their experience makes me decide that the only way of keeping my phone in juice is to borrow a battery pack. 

The proof, though there seems to be a little short ride added on to this from the day before!

Navigation
I also sign up to Strava and discover that every journey can be recorded and analysed for speed and effort. I manage 200km of training in October (Strava has set me the target of 400km) and the generous people using Strava happily offer me “kudos” after every ride, even when it’s clear that I travel at a snail’s pace on my regular route down to Blackfriars Bridge and on to Elephant & Castle.  I grow to love this App as it lets me ride freestyle and records the speed and distance in kilometres, which for anyone who thinks imperial (rather than metric) creates an impression that you’re going further and faster. In contrast Garmin and the other devices where you upload a GPX map, will then dictate your route through arrows, voice commands etc. Going off route is greeted with a blare of music and red arrows instructing you to turn back.

Anyone who drives a car will be very familiar with modern mapping systems. But I don’t have a vehicle and am a terrible navigator because I don’t like following a set route when there are distractions – a field of sheep to admire, blackberries to pick etc.

“You’ve got to plan everything,” insists super-cyclist Michael wearing shoes that click on to his bicycle pedals when he shows me how to use a Garmin. Now retired, Michael has cycled from London to Glasgow in just two days (two days!!) and does his best to arm me with technology. But really it’s his wife, Julia, who offers the best takeaway. “You’re sensible and fit, it’ll be fine. Enjoy it!”

Make a pledge
During the training weeks I admit that I begin to lose sight of the mission to encourage friends and family to make a pledge that helps them cut their personal carbon use. Hermione Taylor, who co-founded Do Nation wants the Ride the Change cyclists to collect 3,000 pledges which range from air drying washing (saving half a tonne of CO2e / driving 12,000 miles) to drinking tap water rather than bottled water (cutting out a lifetime of plastic waste). Thankfully some of the riders, especially from sponsor Arup’s team, are brilliant champions for cutting carbon – spurred on by a leader board where the current champion has garnered more than 400 pledges. By the end of Day 2’s gathering in Coventry, Hermione says there are now 3,500 new pledges to save carbon, that’s the equivalent of 1,500 flights to Glasgow. It would be great if readers of this article could have a look at what pledges are on offer, see https://www.wearedonation.com/en-gb/do-actions/

Here’s how my ride went…

Anna from Flight Free giving a lead to Nicola during the
Ride the Change cycle from London to Glasgow. (c) Adventure Uncovered

Day 1: London to Oxford by bike

London to Oxford is 70.3 miles (or more if you get lost). The map’s already shown that it’s up hill to lunch; downhill after. What I hadn’t realised is that after a gathering of all the cyclists at the Tea House Theatre in Vauxhall and some rousing cheers the group breaks up super fast. By 10am I’m cycling on my own. Deluded (and used to solo training) I assume there must be a group of slower riders behind me and pedal on steadily getting the hang of Ride with GPS as I cross and recross the M1 as we weave out of the suburbs, through a corner of Hertfordshire and into Bucks.  The lanes through the wooded Chilterns are full of speeding cars and gated, well-maintained houses but the bonus is repeated views of magnificent red kites. No one seems to be around, though I do almost talk to one person, an elderly lady standing outside her house who congratulates me for being so “energetic”. Through the sweat (which for me collects on my upper lip and then pools in the hollow below my chin so I look as if I’m dribbling) I beam.

Around noon five cyclists shoot past me – at a speed that I absolutely can’t match.  Apparently, they had a dramatic tyre blow out near Hendon and after an hour of failing to find the right spare part they manage to patch it with gaffer tape. Patrik Ewe, head of fundraising at the climate charity Possible (founded after the film the Age of Stupid came out), is itching to make up time so he can chat to people over lunch at Wendover Woods. This is why Ride the Change’s bike mechanic, Anna Hughes, who is lugging around two paniers of repair kit and had just helped sort out the blow out, is left behind to look after me. To be given such an experienced long distance cycling nursemaid is a total gift for me, definitely not so fun for Anna. However, as she doesn’t have navigation it’s up to me to shout directions towards her while she keeps the pace from the front. Almost immediately we are gifted by the sight of several red kites, and not long after that a muntjac crosses our route. But mostly we’re just trying to get to lunch…

After a steep and speedy downhill through Wendover beech woods which then have to be grimly climbed back up to reach the lunch point. We are definitely greeted by worried faces: I get the impression that the organisers wonder if they should bundle me and my bike into their van (lent by one of the sponsors Abel and Cole), but we’ve been told repeatedly that this is a “journey not a race” and so they don’t insist. I feel like it would take very little to make me sob. And I can see that Millennial Anna is h-angry, but thankfully two meals have been saved for us and fortunately, as Anna follows a plant based diet, it’s bean stew with vegan cheese and a vegan flapjack. Perfect, except it is getting cold and starting to rain…

In the end Anna and I cycle together for the rest of the day: we don’t make it into Oxford until 7pm just as the speeches are starting. But we get on well (although it must be infuriating for her that as I get more tired I keep reading the map upside down). When the rain starts she explains why she started her Flight Free campaign to encourage people to travel without using planes and racking up their carbon footprint. My family decided to use a plane every 10 years back in 2001, and have managed no problem so far – better in fact as we haven’t flown this year (which would have been the third flight in 20 years). We've also had fabulous staycations and taken the train to Europe. So it’s not a difficult decision to sign up to #flightfree2022 too, as I’m certain I’d have never made it through day one without her thoughtful companionship, which also included fixing my derailleur to make the very lowest gear work again.

Deep water
We’re only 12 miles from Oxford when the journey starts to get proper tough – this is a 70-miler and I’ve never gone so far before. In fact I’d already done five or six miles that morning getting from home in Finsbury Park to where our ride headed out from the Tea House Theatre in south London. Even on the smooth surface of the national cycle signposted route (basically a main road) it’s hard to keep going. There’s one excitement when we have to dismount at a flood. The past couple of fields have been flooded and now there’s a ford that is out of control. This must happen often as there is also a raised footpath we can just wheel the bikes across, although it is tempting to go straight through. If I had waterproof Ortlieb panniers on either side of both wheels, then it’s possible my bike would have converted into a floating barge and let me drift to Oxford. Instead, we remount by the Old Fisherman pub (no going in) and continue through Shabbington. Over lunch Anna reckoned we could smash 35 miles within three hours so we should pedal until 5.30pm and then have a cup of tea. This target has kept me going, but of course it’s a Sunday and when the clock ticks up to 6pm she looks around and remarks that there’s nowhere to stop, so shall we just keep on after a banana for me and for her the last of her crisps? Agh. I’ve used psychological boosts enough on my family, and now it’s been used on me – strange how the person suggesting the plan (real or not) gives confidence to the others.

We may be in a group but everyone’s journey is inevitably different. Today I am very much a follower, grateful for Anna’s patient expertise and energetic speed setting.

Ring road
For cyclists and walkers the outskirts of any big town involve complicated crossings of the ring road – but seeing the well-lit bus depot and then the Cowley car plant fills me with a strange joy of familiarity. We’ve nearly made it! Oxford is fortunately a city of cyclists which means we can follow a nifty off-road route that brings us to a hill overlooking the amber glow of the city. There are no obvious spires, and this time I don’t even hear a bell, but it’s as exciting as being in a Philip Pullman storybook looking down on to the city after this long day pedalling.

I keep following Anna’s rear light, slightly bemused by the amount of people and lights on Iffley Road. Back in the mid 1990s I used to work off one side of this road, and live on the other, and it was Sunday dead. Now it is buzzing with people as they wait for their mates picking up kebab and pizza from brightly-lit restaurants.  At last we are crossing Magdalen Bridge – there’s no need to detour under the famous Bridge of Sighs - instead we go down High Street, which is definitely is longer than I remember, past students in gowns and stone doorways opening into college quads. A final stop to consult the map and we’re flashing over Folly Bridge towards the White Horse at Tap Social on the Abingdon Road where it seems we are the very last to check in. Oh dear.

Instead of feeling elated – I’ve bloody done it – this just makes me feel like crying. I know, I’m tired and hungry (and will be hungrier still as you can only order food through Deliveroo and I neither have the app nor the space on my phone to download it), but it’s weird to feel like a frustrated teenager ticked off on a list and then forgotten! I need the world to tell me I’ve got here, despite my ineptitude and lack of bike know-how. I’m another one of the great British amateurs who bumble over long distances with just a bit of fishing line (in the modern world this would be a USB rechargeable head torch) to make the world a little bit better for everyone by asking people to acknowledge my effort not with money by making easy-to-do lifestyle changes…

But right now, I just need a slug of water and my kind husband Pete to call me with a short pep talk in which he tells me to (basically) keep on keeping on and get some food. As a West Ham supporter he is no stranger to getting over feeling low. Wheeling my bike down to Oxford’s main station, on the way to the Premier Inn Botley where I’m booked to sleep, I even start to long to find a supermarket (places I normally avoid) so I can buy something to eat – the restaurants of Iffley Road seem like a distant dream now. Luckily, I spot a man with a tell-tale Ride the Change green wrist band eating from a giant plate. He’s inside a little Keralan restaurant serving delicious vegetarian Thali so I chain up my bike, go inside and order just what he’s got. Nev is from Cornwall and a reluctant chatterer but he mentions that his companion for a little while (until he went off without her), Anne is in a similar age group to us three. I’ve got a new target for tomorrow: I will find Anne and cycle with her. 

Hermione Taylor from Do Nation - the brilliant organisation that helps people pledge to cut their carbon emissions - during Day 2 of Ride the Change from London to Glasgow. (c) NB

Day 2: Oxford to Coventry by bike

At 6.40am I’m in the Premier Inn restaurant getting black coffee when I spot a cheerful looking woman who might be Anne Dixon  And it is: what a marvellous moment it is when she says she’d be happy to team up with me today – it seems like she also rode much of yesterday on her own.

The morning starts dramatically as within 10 minutes a Balliol student has fallen off his e-scooter and is lying on the cycle path on Banbury Road between me and Anne. For the next half hour, we keep his air way clear, stop the bleeding over his brow and keep him calm. An ambulance is called which gives us the opportunity to leave unlucky George. He probably tumbled off at 10mph, but a whack like that on your head is going to put you in A&E at the least. It’s unnerving and I dearly hope he’s recovering well. 

There’s a lot of blood this morning – the busy A road out of Oxford which passes Blenheim Palace is littered with road kill, mostly scattered bits of pheasants, but I also see a debrained rabbit and at one slight bend,  two fallow deer are piled on top of each other on the verge, presumably dragged off the road after they were struck by vehicles. I’m very glad I opted for a bright yellow cycle jacket, as one momentary mistake has such serious consequences for anyone not in a vehicle.

Soon we join some quieter roads and have plenty of chance to chat. Anne, who has four grown up children, has been practising around the Isle of Thanet, in Kent, and is great company. She says that the Ride the Change group WhatsApp has concluded that the right amount of bikes for a keen cyclist is always one more than you have. Obviously, you want to be able to lend a bike to a friend, but there’s also the desire to have a road bike, and maybe an off-road bike, and a fold-up bike and perhaps even an e-bike. Four bikes! And then I realise that over the years I’ve bought all the bikes in my household, so that each family member (Pete and our two daughters) can have their own wheels.

Cycle miles
We keep being passed, and then passing, other groups on Ride The Change today as they stop for water, chats and repairs, which is a good morale boost. As well as overhearing all sorts of interesting ideas about carbon capture, carbon counting and cycle journeys that negate the need for a plane, Anne and I chat away the miles.

After veggie burritos at the hugely popular Lock 29 street eating stalls for lunch there’s a tough pedal up the long hill out of Banbury over hedge cuttings (which will lead to many punctures, although fortunately not for me until the day after this ride) and by estates of new housing. Eventually we’re rewarded with a stretch of broad road with 60 or 70 mile views to the east and west. On this bright autumn October day, it is a completely beautiful landscape. The cars keep whizzing past, but there aren’t too many and distractions include side noises of a fox hunt and then to my companion Anne’s delight the sighting of a campervan sales centre. She hops off to send selfies by their King Campervan sign to her family, which results in a flurry of excited WhatsApp back.

Roadside attraction on Day2 with suitably autumnal mushrooms. (c) NB

Road works
The afternoon pedal is a real joy. We’re into Warwickshire and the landscape and villages are just so perfect…. Until we hit the temporary road signs directing construction traffic for the HS2 railway. What a mess this is: infrastructure that will get travellers from London to the Midlands faster at a cost of at least £22 billion more than the original budget. HS2’s website is convinced the project will create the world’s most environmentally friendly station (see the virtual tour and signs outside Euston) and is tackling climate change… but that’s hard for me to understand. Where it’s being built across the countryside, the place looks an unfinished mess of mud. Near Leamington Spa there’s a plaque put up to the spot where the 300-year-old Hunningham oak was felled. At least 29 hectares of ancient woodland, around 80 football pitches, (though campaigners say this is an under-estimate) have been cleared and there are barriers everywhere behind which diggers stalk the skyline. 

It’s also difficult to understand the scale of this project, but it brings home the need for anyone without a financial stake in it to be offering an alternative vision of sustainable green jobs. With so much focus on the world's rising temperature and the climate crisis there should be no projects that either continue to make use of fossil fuels (especially coal mines in Cumbria or Cambo oil in Shetland) or that destroy biodiversity (road and train track construction) allowed to go ahead. On this bike ride we do use quite a few national cycle routes, but most are repurposed train lines, invariably closed by Beeching in the 1950s, which is rather different to arrow-straight new built roads/rail that split up this bit of the countryside from that bit.

It’s 5pm and Anne, riding in front, points up and east towards a surprise rainbow. There’s no rain, it’s just an arch of colours dominating the valley as we come out of Stoneleigh. it's also where we are joined by Craig on his electric cargo bike. Craig is on a mission to get more people in the NHS using e-bikes. All too soon we’re on the edge of urban: there’s an airport, and an ensemble of newly-built roads taking us up the hill to Coventry. One of the road bridges has a line of healthy-looking reeds growing on it, probably by happenstance rather than an attempt to make a New York High-Line. Our destination is the Tin Theatre in Coventry’s canal basin where a curry dinner is promised, but first we have to do a loop past the famously bombed-out cathedral arriving just as the sun sets and turns the empty window arches into a perfect frame for conversation.

City centre Coventry has had a big pedestrian push, although cars are still flowing through it. There’s also good signage, a Medieval street to enjoy and in one of the open shopping centres a children’s playground is the central attraction. I’ll be stopping here – on a good note today. I'm feeling tired but satisfied, and proud of the porridge power that’s taken me so many miles. I don’t feel sweaty or too stiff either which just goes to show that maybe a short cycle ride from home or a tube station/bus stop to work might be pretty easy to do if you’ve never tried it before. Especially if you can use an e-bike.

What happens next?

My two days with these cyclists may have come to an end but like them I’ll keep talking about ways anyone can tackle their carbon emissions, just by making a pledge on the Do Nation site. 

Not making the whole route has a strange parallel with the way the COP26 meeting is going. Governments want to do the right thing but are distracted by costs, political alignments and popularity. In the same way I’ve stopped for personal reasons: keen to save on hotel bills and then distracted by being so close to a friend who lives nearby and has been having a tough time. Climate change hasn’t gone away. But I’ve stepped away from it for a moment.

UPDATE: Or rather I stepped right into it as amber (danger to life) weather warnings for the north of England from the Met Office - and nine flood warnings and 15 flood alerts from the Environment Agency - meant that my attempt to take a pre-booked train on Thursday from the Midlands up to Edinburgh was stopped. For years people wouldn't link weather with the climate crisis, but now it is likely that as the temperature rises we will see more, and more intense storms. As a train user all I knew was that f]rom early morning on 28 October, Avanti had nothing running beyond Preston, or was it Carlisle? Information for train users not logged on to Twitter was unclear, other than the "service was in chaos" thanks to "landslides", "floods" and even "faults on the train" (I think the latter was a PR damage limitation sentence). All that time the intrepid all-the-way-to-Glasgow cyclists were battling through vast amounts of rain, and flooding to keep to their schedule and get to Kelvingrove Park for the Saturday morning marches on 30 October. Meanwhile I gave up going North at Crewe, found a train back to Coventry, unlocked my bike and then took another train South back to London. It is sobering that my 134.5 mile, two day route to Coventry can be done in just an hour on the train.

Regardless of our level of climate action (or activism) there will be times when we can’t keep up the pace. And that’s OK. But after we’ve taken that breather, we need to come back to the original plan and make more and better changes that will help us all tackle climate change.

The world will be judging how the COP26 meeting goes, just as it did for Copenhagen (fail) and Paris (success). We all hope that keeping the temperature below a 1.5C temperature will be possible. We want country plans (the NDCs) for 2030, 2040 and even 2050 to be achievable and are perhaps getting our heads around the way this will mean living life differently. We  need our governments to commit in word and deed (cash!) to climate justice and intergenerational justice – and they may all manage that. But first we need to rejig our economy so fossil fuel energy comes to a stop. And that is probably the hardest of all future tasks because life is going to look very different in just a few years’ time whether we aim for zero carbon or keep on stalling on real action. Whatever route the COP26 takes us, good luck to us all.

 A special thank you to Anna Hughes, Anne Dixon and Pete May as well as the Ride The Change group.

 

·      * Support Ride the Change: cycle to COP26 with a small eco action (or more) which cuts your carbon emissions. You have to make an account so that in two months time you can confirm that you did what you promised! Pledge via https://www.wearedonation.com/en-gb/businesses/ride-the-change-to-cop26/campaigns/nicola-baird-ride-the-change/pledges/create/featured/?fbclid=IwAR0XPkgSdjPtN5P5kHN28KIbPSgGEadjo2NCbb7I9Jlutx_nu1QwcAGKUlM Or make your own at www.wearedonation.com

* Ride the Change is a collaboration between Possible, Do Nation, Adventure Uncovered, Brake the Cycle and Arup with headline sponsor Abel & Cole, silver sponsor Symprove and bronze sponsors, Cayley Coughtrie and AECOM. This is the biggest ride that Do Nation and Adventure Uncovered have ever organised and people from the NHS, Arup, Unilever, AECOM, C-Capture, Leap Eco, CRA, Anthesis, Abel & Cole, Brompton and Lego will be joining legs of the journey as well. 

·      * Brake the Cycle runs www.adventureuncovered.com

·      *Pledge to be flight free (for 2020, for your holidays, for life) at https://flightfree.co.uk #flightfree2020

 

 

 

 

 

Conversation by elephants: from Green Park to green thinking

 

Stories and ideas inspired by the lantana elephant herd in Green Park, London which are modelled on Indian elephants and made by indigenous craftspeople in Asia. Words by Nicola Baird (see www.nicolabaird.com for more info about my books and blogs). 

The lantana elephant herd moves through Green Park: amazing activism art (c) NB

The elephant herd in Green Park look as if they are flowing across the park out of the tube and down the hill to Buckingham Palace. Randomly cycling to explore central London with my university colleague Gracia we are both amazed to stumble on to an art safari. 

We’ve covered no air miles, read no hype but are utterly awe-struck by the size of the herd. Each elephant is individually sculpted from lantana, a rattan-like material which a volunteer in a hi-vis vest explains is an invasive weed, despoiling habitats. Lighten our footprint and wildlife bounces back says Coexistence which put up the project for https://elephant-family.org/ 

Trunk detail on the lantana herd. (c) NB

It’s clear these models are made by people who know how to look deeply. Each elephant seems to be moving. There are calves, bigger youngsters and grand old dams. In total “there are 72 elephants and they’ll be in Green Park until 23 July,” says a dreadlocked security guard who has managed to luck out with a job that involves walking around a hard to steal set of exhibits, currently moored outside under the trees of Green Park. Gracia and I wander slowly noticing lifted forefeet, curled trunks, swishing tails… We are all-seeing in this famous park deliberately planted with open vistas by Henrietta so that her famously-philandering husband Charles II had less opportunity for liaisons – though he still managed to have at least 100 illegitimate children. “Deforested for surveillance,” suggests Gracia which seems a remarkably 21st century approach. Restoration was nearly 400 years ago so no surprise that Green Park has a decent spread of avenues now, as befits a national park city like London. And it is down one of these big tree lined avenues that the elephant herd is progressing, attended by curious visitors. 

The project run by Elephant Family is called Coexistence and has an intriguing aim – to get watchers to share their stories and an attempt to reboot our nature understanding. “This isn’t a call for an extreme return to the wild. Look around you, wherever you are. Who do you share your world with? Can we increase our coexistence everywhere, and rewild ourselves. Nature is intelligent and adapting. Other life forms will meet our efforts halfway, if only we give them the chance,” writes Coexistence on the website. 

The elephants are made by craftspeople from the Tamil Nadu jungle who clearly know the way elephants move. These magnificent creatures in Green Park look as if they are walking towards tea with the Queen – trunks swinging confidently. Of course, they’re not: these are artworks on tour and also for sale raising funds for elephant protection – a baby is £6,000; adolescent £12,500 and the 7.5x12x4 foot matriarch £22,000. 

Messages from the elephant in the room - Green Park (c) NB

For years the term “elephant in the room” has bumped around environmentalists conversations as they talked biodiversity loss, population pressure and a warming planet at meetings they’d flown to. An elephant has become such a signifier of these types of reluctance to address the big picture that spotting this herd immediately makes me think they are there to raise awareness about climate change. And in fact they will be, as those not sold are taking a detour to Glasgow to help support the COP26 climate meeting run by the UN in early November. They will certainly cheer up this vital meeting. You can read more about elephants and climate change on the Coexistence blog, see https://elephant-family.org/news-views/news/what-do-elephants-have-to-do-with-climate-change/ 

Elephant stories
For almost all of us, elephants inspire us to share stories: our encounters on TV (thank you David Attenborough) or real life, our efforts to save them, our funny moments. In the 1970s I remember re-reading my little brother the story of the Elephant and the Bad Baby by Elfrida Vipont whose elephant and tiny passenger went “rumpeta, rumpeta, rumpeta down the road”. I always felt sorry for the Bad Baby - who was definitely tricked by the Manners Police – but also for my brother whose only experience with elephants was via these Raymond Briggs’ illustrations. In contrast I’d spent my summer as a three-year-old being used as a toddler honeytrap by our entrepreneur Dad. 

Let's think and move like an elephant. Nicola posing by one
of the lantana herd at Green Park.

Dad had acquired a life-size mechanical elephant (built in Essex and named Jessica) which could take people for rides. He’d get me on to this giant’s back to either pose for the press or encourage other families to climb aboard. I was quite a scowly little girl, but I liked being in the corner seat behind my dad on top of an elephant. He’d dress up as an elephant handler when he operated the controls, no doubt crossing his fingers that the licence plate the DVA insisted was attached to Jessica’s tail wouldn’t fall off and ruin the looks-like-a-real-elephant spell. Fun as she was, his mechanical elephant soon became a liability. She triumphed on Blue Peter then fell through the floor at Whiteleys department stores near Paddington. She was destined for Republican fundraising in the US (from an animal motif point of view Republicans are elephants and Democrats donkeys) but storms delayed the ship, so she never made it. Like my family’s car she’d regularly break down and was super hard to fix. My Dad worked from home and it wasn’t unusual for random telephone callers to begin, “It’s about an elephant…” During peak elephant crises he began to avoid the phone. The last known sighting was rumoured to be on a Birmingham allotment. My Dad died more than two decades ago but my Mum says if you happen to have news about an unusual elephant she’s not interested! 

Slowly memories of my elephant life drifted away. Then in 2000* I visited a friend in Zimbabwe and just near the garden of the Victoria Falls hotel the taxi we were using came to a halt as a herd emerged from scrubby trees and crossed the road. Their big feet didn’t prevent them from moving silently – but they left behind a torn trail of branches. One particular elephant standing apart, with flapping ears, seemed vast: my nearly two-year-old daughter looked at this massive land animal with complete composure. In contrast I felt quite weak: a flesh and blood elephant was a very different beast to poor mechanical Jessica. 

Around the time I was born the world population was 2.7 billion and wilderness accounted for 64% of the world. When you compare this to 2020 the numbers seem to have been put in a shaker and jumbled themselves out of control. World population is now 5.7 billion and inevitably wilderness space has fallen to 46%. It seems amazing in a way that so much is still left. But that’s not how the elephant herds must see it. On the Coexistence website you can find stories of the Indian elephants used as models – Highway Hathis (hathi means elephant in Urdu) who have to constantly cross busy roads and railways and the Crop Raiders on the scavenge for 150kg of food a day. 

Both these herds have at least one human hero who has turned around their chances of survival. For the Highway Hathis this was Sanjay Gubbi who has imposed sanctions (slower vehicle speeds and roads closed at night), whilst for the Crop Raiders it was Dulu who came up with the idea of a buffet barrier rice field between the village and forest.  But it took a community commitment to make the changes happen.

Spending time with the lantana herd in Green Park you can get to know the characters, discuss art, activism and exhibitions. As you stare and snap for social media the volunteers gently engage you in conversation about the elephants. It’s a brilliant way of bringing the elephant in the room – in this case a need to coexist with all wildlife – into our front of brain understanding. Days later I took a train to Ash in Kent to a wedding and at the station, opposite the garage was greeted by a good view of a new Bellway homes construction site, walled by panels and ringed by a busy road. The billboard claimed: ‘Coming soon Wildflower Meadow’ conjuring up images of red poppies and blue cornflowers and not a large, tightly-fitted set of brick houses. 

Message from the lantana elephant herd: “If some people can live with elephants surely we can learn to live with beavers, badgers and bring back our fast vanishing birds and butterflies.”
Could this be possible with these housing complexes built so tightly to main roads? (c) NB

This uncomfortable disconnect between what our ever-expanding population is promised – wildflowers and meadows – and what is coming – crowded brick houses on a road - made me revisit the message the Green Park elephant herd was created to share: “If some people can live with elephants surely we can learn to live with beavers, badgers and bring back our fast vanishing birds and butterflies.” Yes, we surely can follow Coexistence’s message, but to do so, most of us need to look deeply into the way we organise our lives if we want to give those smaller animals and ecosystems a fighting chance for survival. 

When it comes to PR, being a massive elephant has a lot more impact than being a mini-beast. But at least we humans still have the power to make a positive difference. Some suggestions: 

• In the garden leave out food and water for birds and other wildlife; keep all cats indoors at night and never use slug or snail pellets. 

• Getting around aim to use your own steam (walk, scoot or cycle) or public transport. 

• Avoid food waste - farming destroys habitats so it makes sense to at least use and eat what you have bought.

• Measure your carbon footprint and aim to bring it down. There’s a fun measuring site on https://footprint.wwf.org.uk/ 

More about this herd and the thinking behind how it is supporting Asia’s wildlife at elephant-family.org The lantana elephants move out of Green Park on 23 July 2021.

FOOTNOTE

*2000- after this trip my family made a commitment to only fly every 10 years and reduce our carbon footprint. I last made a plane flight in 2011. In theory I'd have probably taken a flight in 2021 but for lots of reasons - including my own carbon budget - probably will not. I can't imagine that we'll be behaving just as we do now in 2031, so maybe that's plane trips over for me.

Taking my bike out with Hidden Tracks: brilliant fun

With microadventures and staycations in vogue (OK by necessity!) how about going for a guided tour of your area? By joining up with Hidden Tracks for a sunny Friday guided bike ride Nicola Baird and her friend (Nicky) had a brilliant cycle adventure. Words by Nicola Baird (see www.nicolabaird.com for more info about my books and blogs). 

Nicky, Nicola and Charlie at our start and stopping point: Crystal Palace.
We'd just cycled 20 miles - it was brilliant! (NB)

IN A NUTSHELL: Charlie Codrington has turned his passion for all things bike into a cycle tour business that makes navigating hidden tracks around London super simple. Join Hidden Tracks if you want someone else to figure out the routes – and if it’s wanted gain some new cycle skills. After so long not seeing friends this is the perfect excuse to gather a group for one of his rides. You’ll have a new adventure together and finish with explorers’ stories of views, woods, parks, that cracking flapjack pitstop or pub lunch – all not so far from London.

By the bluebells on a Hidden Tracks cycle adventure. (c) NB

However good you are at exploring on your bike, the indulgent way to enjoy a long new route is to book a guided tour. Fail to do this and if you’re like me you’ll just get lost or spend the journey with your eyes fixed to the phone map clamped to your handlebars listening to that voice suggesting you “do a U-turn”. 

After a long winter and months of lockdown, anticipating a day cycling ought to be a treat – and that’s why booking with Hidden Tracks is a winner. If I hadn’t I’d have spent sleepless nights worrying that I was going to spend my big day out cycling lost or trapped on a busy A road because despite having lived in London for 30 years I don’t know south London’s green spaces at all. Charlie, 57, has promised me a 20 mile(ish) tour full of bluebells which absolutely delivers. I am going to be cycling to the Surrey/Kent borders which frankly seems mission impossible. But first, I have to get my very regular commuter bike to Crystal Palace station. Luckily this was easy – as it’s legal to take your bike on this overground link between north and south London on weekdays before 7.30am, between 9.30am-4pm, after 7pm and any time at the weekend. Charlie and my friend Nicky have already stoked up on a coffee so soon we are on our way. Within 15 minutes I’ve seen the famous model dinosaurs in Crystal Palace park, a stretch of the lost Croydon canal in Betts Park and a reclaimed community playground accessed through colourfully painted railings. Next stop: bluebells. 

Charlie Codrington is a cycle guide and cyclo-cross competitor who
helps groups of friends/families of all abilities enjoy
longer off-road explores. See what he offers on
the Hidden Tracks website.

Charlie, a veteran cyclist, has spent hours speeding around Herne Hill velodrome, on cyclo-cross courses (CX) and is riding his favourite CX bike. Within seconds it is quite clear to him that we’ve never heard of CX or gravel bikes, and have rather basic cycling skills. To be fair I’ve had lessons in all sorts: piano, pilates, yoga, riding horses, paddleboarding and driving a car but no one has ever given me any instruction on how to ride a bike… 

Turns out that skills rides are Charlie’s speciality. He’s a qualified British Cycling Coach for cyclo-cross, mountain bikes (MTB), road and time trial and has years of experience coaching kids, teenagers and his Dulwich Paragon team mates at the Herne Hill Velodrome. If we wanted he’d be able to show us how to ride over rocks. In fact, there’s quite an appetite for extra cycle skills thanks to events like the Rapha sessions. A few days before he’d just taken out four keen women (all in their 30s) whose summer holiday will be a Rapha adventure from Edinburgh to Manchester crossing the Pennines mostly off-road. “Rapha just give you a route and you follow it,” says Charlie. “They were strong women road cyclists, faster than me probably, and they thought it would be easy-peasy to ride a gravel bike. Anyone can ride a bike off road, provided the route is fairly straightforward. But as soon as you start putting in slightly bigger lumps and obstacles, it’s hard work - you get nervous and wheels keep slipping away. If you belt it then you get punctures. It’s a different technique to riding on road – you need to get off the saddle, float and ride lightly. You need to move your body around the bike and use the gears in a different way. You can spot a good off-roader – it’s just technique. Lots of people discover their technique is lacking when they’ve bought a gravel bike and just get mullered before they realise they need to some coaching. When you are shown how to ride properly people love it.” 

I'm on the stepping stones at this point - cycle guide Charlie Codrington from Hidden Tracks
and my friend Nicky patiently wait. 

I hadn’t quite grasped how off-road an adventure with Hidden Tracks can be (though Easy and Moderate rides are still super doable with an ordinary bike). If I’d read the website a bit more closely, I’d have known. Charlie’s also a committee member of Dulwich Paragon and runs their off-road club which attracts about 20 riders in every race. This is clearly a big deal, and though Charlie has won many races, cyclo-cross races are followed by just a small band. Charlie laughs about his competitive nature in the veteran classes where glory comes with tiny amounts of prize money, often less than a tenner.

“You are fighting to beat someone who you don’t know terribly well in a sport that no one is interested in, but you spend most of your week thinking about it,” he says with a massive grin. It’s clear that this is a classic, eccentric British pursuit. 

But it was Charlie’s regular fun group rides created for his cycling club that have helped take him on a new career as a cycle tour guide. Together with his canny ability to navigate by what seems like instinct, although has clearly seen serious study of maps and apps back home. 

In March 2021 he launched Hidden Tracks with a calendar of adventure rides to help cyclists of all abilities, using their regular bikes, explore routes out of London mostly off-road and often through woods. Popular cycle routes include bluebell woods, wild garlic woods, tours to palaces (Hampton Court) and out to the woods of Epping. His easiest rides, mainly flat, include a City church crawl, a chance to explore the Wandle flats. His favourite is the Tidal Time Traveller which includes a cable car and then hugs the River Thames. “It’s a sight-a-second, a great ride and you can do it on Boris bikes,” he says so enthusiastically I’m a bit worried our planned bluebell ride through the woods will be diverted. 

London may always be the starting point for Charlie’s rides - it's where he lives - but it’s clear that woods are his favourite cycling habitat. “Let’s see what’s down this hole,” ought to be this cycling explorer’s catchphrase as he launches his mountain bike CHECK into the deep woods to lead Nicky and me along miles of winding bridlepaths and byways. This brings some cycling challenges to those of us who haven’t spent years off-roading, but Charlie coaches us through that. Better still it also takes us away from the traffic so there’s a chance to spot jays, bluebells, and not far from Croydon a flurry of yellow brimstone butterflies. The big carpets of wood anemones are especially exciting to see as they are an indicator that we are cycling through ancient woodland (anorak tip: these wildflowers spread just six feet every 100 years). 

Looking at the A-Z there is no way I’d have been able to link up these routes, it needs insider knowledge. As for an app, forget it – winding woodland paths do not take you where you want to go. Charlie’s original plan was to book lunch at The White Bear in Fickles Hole, as a midway break our 20 mile round trip that took us right to the Surrey/Kent/Croydon border, but it was such a sunny day that we decided instead to picnic in the woods. Knowing his clients may not be used to so much exercise Charlie provided delicious homemade flapjacks and fudge in a beautifully wrapped package. This was also a clever sweet treat as it definitely stopped my energy levels flagging on the return ride home. 

Lunch was also a good chance to chat. Charlie trained as a cabinet maker then moved into furniture design, mostly designing children’s furniture for retailers large and small. He’s got some interesting memories of the last days of the furniture trade in Hackney. “Hoxton was the centre of the furniture world and that’s changed beyond recognition – it’s all fancy pants now,” he says as we munch. “At the end of the 1980s I was working for an art gallery in Knightsbridge and went to a house in Hoxton Square where they made horrible repro furniture including occasional tables to sit by the sofa. It was Dickensian: the veneer man was self-employed working in the cellar with just two lightbulbs, like a troglodyte. The man who did the turning was self-employed and like all the others working in the building he only ever made one part for this table. Crispins, was an old veneer place in Curtain Row that used to be fabulous. There’d be piles of veneer and it used to smell absolutely gorgeous. I could buy 10 leaves of veneer and roll it up and take it home.” 

Lockdown helped Charlie figure out the best routes for Hidden Tracks Cycling. But lockdown also saw him making use of his cabinet making skills with a nod to the endless hours that had to be spent at home rather than on the cyclo-cross track. “I bid £75 for a mechanical clock mover from 1710 as I’ve always wanted to make a long case clock. My target was to make it in the same way an early 18th century casemaker make it. They wouldn’t have had many tools, but they would have had a lot of pine,” says Charlie. The end result is intentionally plain smartened up as he’s, “fake ebonised it with black charcoal-coloured paint adding gilt detail.” 

As if that wasn’t enough Changing Rooms overhaul, he then redid his Brixton home’s downstairs loo where the clock now lives. “My wife Sarah asked me to make it look like Versailles, but I was too mean to buy the gold – which is very expensive - so used Dutch metal to gild the mirrors. Now it looks garish, like a 1930s Pall Mall club,” says Charlie with some pride. 

With this kind of practical skill set you can guess Charlie services his own bikes and he’s getting quite a collection now, all stored inside. “Five bikes are mine, but that’s not really enough,” he admits and then remembers his family’s bikes. “OK. We’ve got eight or nine in the front parlour, as it would have been known in Victorian days, but really this is now a bike shed and a workshop for my gilding and clock making!” 

Bespoke Hidden Tracks snacks.

After a fat sandwich, the famous flapjacks and a banana we sped off after Charlie, arriving back at Crystal Palace with enough time to take our bikes on the overland before rush hour. 

Highlights of the trip - besides those bluebells which are out from mid April to mid May - included lambs, oil seed rape starting to burst into its yellow splendour, discovering the River Beck and seeing signposts that tell cyclists they can get to Gatwick off-road (that’s a challenge!). Although my post-ride memory is of an endless whizz past trees starting to unfurl their leaves Charlie’s route does go also include zipping through Lewisham, then Bromley, skirting Croydon via a couple of legal doglegs across the Croydon tram tracks taking us past industrial estates and woods until we reach Surrey’s country lanes. 

Charlie and Nicky ready to try a challenging downhill spot. On Hidden Tracks you can choose easy, moderate or difficult routes, all guided by Charlie Codrington. He also offers skills sessions.

At this point London proper is somewhere behind us but I’ve completely lost my navigational compass. Instead I’m learning some off-road cycling skills which Charlie tactfully fed to me when needed. I remember trying to lean forward and stand up when going up a hill for instance, and something similar when going down too. Another good tip was to stay soft on the bike (to avoid your body jarring) and to use the seat as an armchair… By the time we’re back in Betts Park I’m able to take my hands off the handlebars and keep pedalling – a lifetime’s ambition. 

Before you set out Charlie’s advice is to have a well-serviced bike and bring a spare inner tube. Don’t skip this tip as it would be such a shame to have to walk your magnificent machine home! Charlie is respectful of his clients, but wisely did a quick run-over my bike before we began our monster pedal to check that the brakes were working. I was glad he did, as I definitely needed them on some of the steeper downhills in the woods of south London. He also carries a bike repair pack and first aid kit. 

Overall: this was a fabulous ride and adventure. I will definitely book with my family to get another guided tour. It took my daily cycle ride to a totally different level and was such a joy to be mostly away from traffic (there is some road riding but after the woods that was almost a treat as tarmac is blissfully smooth).  

Please note that I went on a cycle ride as a guest of Hidden Tracks Cycling without paying the fee. All copy is the opinion of Around Britain No Plane.

FAQ: 

1. Do you need a special bike or clothes? Not for the shorter blue (easy) and green (medium) routes. Any bike will do. Long routes are going to be much more fun wearing padded cycle shorts although I pitched up in jeans which probably wasn’t too bright even if non specialist wear isn’t essential. 
2. How hard is the cycling? I was a commuter cyclist but never go much further than 40 minutes so my feedback for a Hidden Tracks ride is that it was easily doable on a well-serviced bike with gears. I cycle quite slowly and I did walk up a couple of hills that Charlie steamed up, so it makes sense to organise a group of like-minded friends so you’re not the one always waiting or pedalling like crazy to catch up. Overall the route was fun and not loaded with climbs – my memory is of lots of downhill and flat sections, nicely found by our guide. Although my cycling companion is a keen runner, she was surprised by how far we went and said she’d slept very soundly that night. 
3. What next? My ambition is to join Charlie for an off-road route of around 70 miles from London to Brighton across the Sussex Downs. This would need a mountain bike and riders to be super cycle fit. I also want to join a Friday skills session which look a lot of fun.

• Find out more and how to book at the website  https://hiddentrackscycling.co.uk/
• Or have a look at Insta @charliecycleguide

What's going on at Richmond Park?

if you want a taste of the wild, then London has two famous places to go - Richmond Park (to the west) and Hampstead Heath (to the north). But which offers the best experience? Here's a closer look at Richmond Park. Words by Nicola Baird (see www.nicolabaird.com for more info about my books and blogs). 

Richmond Park is famous for the veteran oak trees.
This was one of many that are more than 6 of my arm spans wide. (c) GM

Richmond is just 10 miles from central London but it feels like a world away. Exploring this area over the xmas holiday gave me the opportunity to bike the 7mile (11km) radius of the huge park (hugging the boundary wall). A few days later with my friend Gisella I then walked across the centre from Mortlake station to Richmond overground - logging up 23,400 paces (14km).

Initially visiting was partly a political act: I wanted to see what this strange constituency of Richmond Park was like. It's where the incumbent MP, Zac Goldsmith (Con) lost to his Lib Dem rival, Sarah Olney in the Dec 2019 general election. Professionally Zac lucked out as he was then given a seat in the House of Lords, ensuring that he stays in the Cabinet as Minister of State for the Environment & Rural Affairs.

Richmond Park: After a steep climb, looking back down the
sandy path at Broomfield Hill. (c) NB

Part of the constituency includes the old hunting ground, Richmond Park. This is owned and managed by the Royal Parks, a charity, which looks after 5000 acres across London including Hyde Park, Greenwich Park, St James' Park, Bushy Park, Regent's Park and Kensington Gardens.

Pen Ponds are an easy place to spot wildlife. We saw a variety of
ducks, rails and cormorants. There are meant to be kingfishers. (c) NB

I'm a regular at Hampstead Heath, run by the Corporation of London, so I was surprised that Richmond Park seems very different, although they aren't that far apart as the crow flies. Of course there's no need to choose between them but I definitely noticed:

• Hampstead is wetter and muddier- you need boots in the winter (Richmond seems better drained)
• Richmond is cycle friendly (Hampstead virtually bans them)
• Richmond lets cars everywhere - it's basically a 20mph free for all and the noise and traffic smell ruins the rim of the park, which is exactly the bit pedestrians and cyclists use (Hampstead has no cars, good on you Hampstead)
• Richmond has 400+ deer and consequent problems with visitors feeding them and then getting into problems/wild animal face offs, especially around rutting season. Spotting deer was a real highlight.
• Hampstead is full of TV types and intellectuals talking leftie and love chat (Richmond has a different feel) though both parks are of course open to anyone and everyone.
• Hampstead has swimming ponds (Richmond has hot spots and car parks by every pond)
• Richmond lets cyclists and walkers share a track which seems to work (it's less stressful walking in Hampstead because no cyclist slinks up on you)
• Richmond has amazing old oaks, zillions of them. Hampstead has some veteran trees.
• Richmond is noisy: thumbs down to the endless vehicle traffic and parakeet screeching. Hampstead has parakeets, but it doesn't feel so busy with these green invader birds.

With these lovely routes, even in winter Richmond Park is popular
with walkers and cyclists. Just to the right, on the other side of the trees, you can make
out the road. Although there's now a hopper service to get people round the
park without their own cars (a nice idea) it's hard not to be surprised by how
car dominated this park seems to be. (c) NB

CYCLING: 
I really enjoyed cycling clockwise from Richmond Gate around the park. There's one super steep section but once up the hill there's a bench, kiosk (car park of course!) and plenty of old oaks to recover under. Once you're ready to cycle on, you will be rewarded by amazing views back towards London. The park is really breath-taking. I spent about two hours cycling or staring at the views. If it had been warmer I'd have spent longer under the oak trees.

Tip (getting there): From Richmond station exit left then left on to Sheen Road until the traffic lights. Here turn right up Church Road so that when you meet Richmond Hill (turn left) you haven't had to slog up the most steep part. Keep going until you Reach Richmond Gate. Getting to the park took about 10 mins, mostly in my lowest gear. I don't think I'd ever manage to cycle up a mountain!

Me, dog and Time Out book of London Walks exploring
Richmond Park on a sunlit December day. (c) GM

WALKING:
Walking was more fun - perhaps because I had my dog with me - but also it gave me the chance to catch up with my friend Gisella.

Nicola and Gisella inspired to pose by an ancient oak
in Two Storm Wood. Bertrand Russell played as a child in the
oaks at Pembroke Lodge. (c) GM

We could have walked in silence, but that would have been hard as there was a lot to discuss, ranging from our children and our jobs to travel and politics. We also went on the most beautiful, bright December day which meant every photo looked amazing - at least Gisella's did! Finding so many veteran trees was amazing. Richmond Park claims to have 1,300 veteran trees of which 320 are ancient. An ancient tree is a perfect habitat for many fungi, invertebrates, lichen and other species. According to the National Trust "one ancient oak has more biodiversity than 1,000 hundred-year-old oaks."

Mesmerised by the camouflaged red deer. (c) GM

Red deer near King Henry VIII mound. (c) GM

Highlights included:

• Spotting red deer up close
• Meeting so many veteran oak trees and also the fabulous sweet chestnuts in Sawpit Plantation.
• Watching a fire engine workshop with hoses at Pen Ponds (potential good training for XR members)
• Catching the hypnotically lovely scent of witch hazel in secret Isabella Plantation (and using the compost toilets there)
• Walking the last section from Pembroke Lodge to Richmond Hill towards the best sunset of 2019.

Viewpoint on Richmond Hill with the River
Thames' spectacular curves. (c) GM

Now I know two good routes around the park, and have a basic grasp of its geography I plan to go again soon. I love the way a walk you know seems to get shorter, and if that's the case then I'll have time to pop into the info centres. 24 hours on I'm still feeling jealous of all those Richmond Park wardens and also the riders who must know the park so much more intimately.

Q: Have you been to both these big London parks? Which would you recommend exploring, and why?

• More info about Richmond Park 
• More about Hampstead Heath

BOOK REVIEW: London is a forest

For anyone who likes exploring London this new book by @thestreettree expert Paul Wood, London is a Forest, offers a new way to look at trees. Words by Nicola Baird (see www.nicolabaird.com for more info about my books and blogs). 

Recommended reading: London is a Forest by Paul Wood.
A great guide for exploring London's trees in an intelligent way full of views and viewpoints.

======

LONDON IS A FOREST by Paul Wood (Hardie Grant, £12) 

======

I live in a forest. During May most mornings I was woken by the excited trill of a wren in the tree by my bedroom. Looking out of the window I pick out my favourite trees – usually with the bigger silhouettes. But I like the lollipop tiddlers too, and the way young seedlings suddenly burst up releasing giant-sized leaves from red stalks. 

But this forest isn’t a traditional wild wood of fairy tales. The paths are paved, the tracks are tarmac. It’s busy and polluted. In fact, it’s central London, because London is a forest according to a UN definition. Excitingly London has 8.3 million trees, which is about one tree per person, making it the world’s largest urban forest. 

The well-named Paul Wood’s new book London is a Forest is an absolute must-have. Savouring each chapter, I’m reminded of yet another friend or relative who’d be fascinated by the content. As a result my must-buy-it-for list has now grown so long that I think may be forced to recommend rather than make so many purchases. 

So what’s special about this book? 

There’s a short intro that argues the case for why London is a forest which should be required reading. But the basic content is divided into six meandering trails that pass by the best bits of green London. This isn’t just lush royal parks and Thames-side walks, it’s also via the most venerable, most unusual, and most loved trees. Despite 8.3 million to pick out Paul is able to turn any humble tree into a celebrity - and tell you which angle it looks best from...

I did wonder if reading a book of walks might be a bit dull if it was interlaced with turn left here, right there, but the instructions are provided in a different way, with phone-friendly GPS coordinates. Using the margin for GPS coordinates prevents the text from being plied with instructions. This allows the reader to follow a cohesive thread as the author walks us (or maybe cycles as these are mostly 16+ mile/27km+ routes) from tree to tree taking in trails and London viewpoints from:

·     High Barnet to Barbican

·     Erith to Canary Wharf

·     Epping to London Fields

·     Richmond Park to Westminster

·     Croydon to Deptford

·     Tower Bridge to Heathrow

I’m a north Londoner so there are parts of these chapters that are very familiar to me and others where I’m slightly stuck. But this mix of arboreal anecdote, London knowledge and the author’s asides (mostly about how that tree ended up with that limb damage or was planted there) are fascinating. Not only am I re-remembering walks with friends, but also planning where to go for my next London explore. 

By default I already hug green places as I criss-cross my bit of London, so I know many trees well. But with Paul Wood as a guide there is so much more to learn. Just using one example, the silvery bark-shedding London plane I am now aware that there’s a mix of varieties on Highbury Fields. That the avenue on Kennington Road (western side) in Lambeth harbours badges that name each tree after an astronaut (best viewed from a 59 or 159 bus). And the very oldest London Plane, known as Barney, can be found between the London Wetlands Centre and Barn Elms playing fields. This extraordinary tree has been preserved using a metal cage that its thick branches are now trying to grow through.

Paul Wood’s ability to share an interesting factlet at each tree has been well-honed by his well-followed activity on @thestreettree and subsequent walks and talks. Even on a two-street walk Paul can do far more than name-the-street-trees. He can also tell you about why the local authority planted them, when to expect blooms or fruits/nuts and even the life span. Somehow Paul does this in the most gracious and charming way, rather than harrying us with fact after fact (an occasional sin of experts who know how to categorise).

London is a Forest deserves to become a classic guide to London. At this point of climate crisis it helps us understand what trees thrive in the parks and street scape, at the same time as covering the info about what those trees have seen. My hope is that this book should give encouragement to the many other cities of Britain – and the world – who are considering doubling their tree cover. People know that trees offer valuable services – just a few include their ability to carbon, absorb noise, remove pollutants, reduce flood risk, offer summer shade, improve well-being, look beautiful, provide pollination opportunities and delicious bounty (I’ve even made N4 street tree pear jam). Recent attempts to cost these services to London calculated they are worth more than £6 billion. 

My hunch is that we all need to be more knowledgeable about our trees and at times shout loudly for them. Past threats have often been road expansion and building. On London’s clay soils insurance companies dealing with subsidence claims have a tendency to put their blame squarely on the trees nearest to the subsiding house. If this habit remains unchallenged there is a risk that despite the Government getting us to plant more urban trees we will actually reduce the number. As Paul Wood’s book makes so clear, simply through the amazing variety of trees he introduces us to from the Atlas Cedar (Chiswick) to wingnut (Bermondsey) sometimes it’s not just planting trees that counts, it’s the size of what you plant. Some trees offer far more eco-system services, especially veterans.

London is a Forest will also look good on your book shelves as the cover art work – a green ringed log with the line of the River Thames flowing through it - is stunning. I’ve noticed that recent Hardie Grant books (part of Quadrille), have particularly good covers as well as rather fab nature thinking,so whether you judge a book by its cover, or its content, London is a Forest is a total win. My tip is to go add it to your wish list now.

Other books you might like:

• Ghost Trees: nature and people in a London Parish (shortlisted for the Wainwright prize) by Bob Gilbert 
• The Way Home: tales from a life without technology by Mark Boyle