Many hands make light work & powerful statements

Can art ever say anything important about the political issues of the day? This blog looks at ways of learning about the world without having to get on a plane (because this blog is all about travelling without racking up a mega carbon footprint). Words from Nicola Baird.

Inspiring piece by Lorenzo Quinn, Support, 2017 (c) Lorenzo Quinn

Today my hallway is a clutter of boxes filled with Green party leaflets. The idea is that I contact keen local Greens and get them to take a clutch and deliver to nearby households. It's a slog contacting people (there is a politico or SPUD term which calls this something like 'phone banking'). Admittedly it is a thrill when you match a genuinely keen Green with a really useful job.

But can art do the work of politicians? Apart from Picasso's La Guernica and other war pictures I wasn't sure if art could be used effectively in a campaigning way.

But I love this new sculpture by Lorenzo Quinn which shows two huge hands emerging from the Grand Canal as if they are propping up the five star Ca' Sagredo Hotel. Admittedly I know very little about the buildings in Venice - other than climate change is putting them at risk of collapse. But the artist is quite clear about his intent:

"I wanted to sculpt what is considered the hardest and most technically challenging part of the human body. The hand holds so much power – the power to love, to hate, to create, to destroy. Venice is a floating art city that has inspired cultures for centuries, but to continue to do so it needs the support of our generation and future ones, because it is threatened by climate change and time decay," says Lorenzo Quinn who calls his sculpture Support.

This sculpture is on show for the Venice Biennale from May to November 2017.

This is the second fantastic artwork about climate change that has really impressed me. The other was of four 3m high horsemen emerging with the low tide along the banks of the Thames by Jason de Caires Taylor visible near the Houses of Parliament in September 2015. I still have a picture of it, cut from the Guardian, pinned up on my fridge. But I daren't add it to this blog as it is a Getty image. But hope to the Guardian site and have a look.

So what?
Both artworks make powerful points about the need to pay attention to climate change in the most witty and thoughtful ways. And that gives me energy to keep on making those calls encouraging people to deliver another run of leaflets... A perfect example of how thinking global can re-energise you to act local.

Over to you

What art work have you seen that helps raise attention to problems like climate change?

• More info about Lorenzo Quinn @LorenzoQuinnArtist via @HalcyonGallery Halcyon Gallery website (or visit 144-146 New Bond Street, W1) which specialises in "inspirational art". Nearest Tube: Bond Street
  FREE Entry. Visitor Information: 020 7100 7144. Exhibition opening times: Monday to Saturday 10am–6pm, Sunday 11am–5pm

Trying to cook Ethiopian style

Learning to cook Ethiopian style at an evening session run at Central Street Cookery School was a fabulous treat. And then, no longer strangers, we ate together. This is a wonderful way to learn more about Ethiopia without having to get on a plane (because this blog is all about travelling without racking up a mega carbon footprint). Words from Nicola Baird.

Ethiopian cooking class at Central Street Cookery School, EC1

At Old Street (also known as Silicon Roundabout) there's a cooking school. It was set up five years ago for the EC1 community in London to learn about creating tasty meals. Sometimes this is for families, or for people with particular health conditions, like diabetes. Invariably it's about ways of avoiding food waste. It can also be hired and used by anyone - a wonderful way to team build.

In March 2017 I wrote up an interview with the lovely manager of the cooking school, Sofia Larrinua on Islington Faces. She then kindly invited me to join their April cooking club and learn to cook an Ethiopian meal. I had such a fun time in a packed kitchen. All the attendees were keen cooks, except me (I make a homecooked meal most nights for my family, but I'd never dare call myself a foodie). It was eye-opening watching our chef-host Tsigereda Tekletsadik show us how to create Ethiopian style cuisine - simply and efficiently. She also made it fun.

Cooking Ethiopian style
I've eaten Ethiopian food a few times and really enjoyed it but hadn't ever been able to cook something similar at home. Now I can do a couple of dishes - and all because of Tsigereda's skills and the discovery of a reddish spice called berbere. Berbere has a mix of chilli, garlic, ginger, nigella, fenugreek and other dried herbs/spices. It's quite powerful and works wonderfully with red lentils and yellow split peas.

What's in the pot? Foreground - the start of Ethiopian split pea stew
and the redder dish is  miser wot (spicy red lentils).

So what's different? I learnt to chop ingredients MUCH smaller and to cook everything a bit slower. It was a real lesson in patience equals better taste.

I'm a vegetarian so was happy to be assigned the chance to make miser wot. This is the spicy dollop of red lentils served on injera bread. It was easy to make with instructions and a real life Ethiopian chef to sort out any questions. My biggest problem was how to use the chopper to mince up the onions. At home we don't have a dish washer, blender or chopper o most cooking gadgets are quite hard for me to figure out!

After we'd cooked up a proper feast - which included meat for the non-veggie cooking club members (the majority!) of doro wat (Ethiopian spiced chicken) and minchet abish which is a beef and chickpea dish - we all ate together. People had brought wine to share but there was also real Ethiopian red wine (very nice) and the famous (and strong) Ethiopian honey wine, Tej. According to my brief research on the internet, Awash is the longest established Ethiopian vineyard.

Exploring the world via cuisine - ie, going out for a meal - is a super simple way to learn about another culture. The next stage is learning to cook a dish or two. I would love to go to Ethiopia and surprise someone there with my new cooking skills, but the next best thing is to invite around Ethiopian friends to my home in London and see if I can serve up a passable miser wat. I'll let you know how it goes...

• More info about Central Street Cookery School, 90 Central Street, London, EC1V 8AJ, classes and hire on the website http://centralstreet.org/space-hire/

Over to you?
Where's your favourite place to eat an Ethiopian meal?

Zig-zagging along the River Lea or maybe the Nile

What is it about following a river from its start to end? Here's my first go at completing the  50-mile Lea Valley Walk. In two days I walk five miles and cycle 25. Not quite as impressive as Dr Livingstone of the Nile, but it feels like a huge achievement to have followed a path along a river. Words from Nicola Baird.

The Lea Valley Walk is well signposted. Here's
the entrance close to Tottenham Hale tube in London.

I'm clearly getting deluded by a combination of hot spring sun and heady distances, but on the first two days I've been on the Lea Valley Walk - which runs from Leagrave (the source of the River Lea) to the Thames - someone has stopped me going "Hello Nicola".  And now I think I'm Dr Livingstone charting the River Nile suddenly meeting Stanley...

Message to cyclists on the Lea Valley Walk.

Judith, the first, is with her two primary school aged daughters and husband. They are all on bikes and the plan is to cycle to Hertford. "How far is it?" I ask tentatively. "25 miles..." says Judith and laughs nervously. Turns out the family have done this before - and Judith has done it many times so knows it's a three hour off-road pedal. With the kids and the temptation of riverside pubs it may take longer, but what an adventure for them all. 

The next day I'm cycling the exact same route as Judith's family, having abandoned my dog and trainers in order to eat up the miles with my trusty bike. It's a quiet Monday so the riverside path is much less busy. There are no boat trainers shouting instructions from bikes at their skiffing crews. There are no squads of lycra-clad cyclists. There are only a couple of walkers to avoid. If you're going to enjoy walking this river then it's definitely calmer to do it on a weekday. 

Psychogeography heaven - that strange tension of rural idyll (otters?) and
yuck (pylons, river rubbish, flattened building sites).

I pass Alfie's Lock (once called Pickett's Lock) and immediately it seems like I'm in the countryside. To my right is a reservoir bank with sheep grazing. There's a heron flying across. On the lock side are sign boards explaining that this is otter country. Apparently otters sleep in their holts for most of their day emerging in the evening to play. Clearly they are perpetual teenagers...

And then I reach Enfield Island where the path swaps sides and it happens again. "Hello Nicola". This time it's Nikki, whose child went to the same nursery as my youngest - 14 years ago!

I can imagine how dazed Dr Livingstone felt when he was tracked down. He'd been in the journeying zone for months, perhaps years. I was only one and a bit hours in, but following the River Lea was turning me into the most famous of all colonial explorers.

The Nile is a great deal longer than the modest River Lea.... it's 6,853km long (4.258 miles) and passes through 11 countries on its way to the Mediterranean - Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Congo, Kenya, Ethiopia, Eritrea, South Sudan, Sudan and Egypt.  

In contrast the River Lea is easy to follow. But the roads and towns that it runs close by certainly play a game of convergence...(town to town and road to road) just like the two Niles. In Khartoum, Sudan the Blue and White Nile meet - you can see the mix happening, and hear a local talking about this on the video here.

Signs to the narrow boat cafe. Ahead lies the M25

After about two hours from my door I stop at the friendly Narrow Boat cafe. It is a well signposted, family run cafe at Waltham Abeey, just off the River Lea, so I ignore the fact that it is close to the M25, creating a strange traffic hum. It also takes cards, has a toilet and rather sweetly the waitress heats up my brownie so it oozes deliciously across the plate. I wolf it up (along with my homemade sandwiches) while admiring their goats, assortment of dogs and interesting junk shop art. This is quite a find, and perfectly sited.

The pretty Fish & Eels pub at Dobb's Weir (for a moment it's Essex)

Next stop ought to be Hertford but first I've got a long cycle. I like the way my bike's tyres are now coated with a fine white towpath powder. I get confused by discovering Cheshunt is outside the M25 but enjoy cycling past boat centres, leisure centres, wooden chalets and caravan style holiday parks. This place is clearly not just London's lungs it's a lovely spot to recharge. 

Amwell Nature Reserve - so peaceful.

They even make it OK for the birds and beasts. At Amwell, quite near the start of the New River Canal which goes into Islington, the gravel pits have been filled to create the Amwell Nature Reserve. It's a beautiful spot.

Spot the gazebos of Ware

Pedalling on I arrive at Ware, the train station I use often to get to my mum's home in Hertfordshire. It's a real treat to see the famous Ware gazebos, built to offer a bit of quiet R&R by the merchants whose houses front the high street, which used to be the main route between London to Cambridge. Ware had such a reputation as a stop off point that there are many pubs (former B&Bs) and in the museum you can even see the Great Bed of Ware which travellers at the White Hart were obliged to share (four couples). I'm told this bed was moved from hostelry to hostelry but I can't vouch for the truth of this. It belongs to the Victoria & Albert museum but in 2012 it was on loan to the Museum of Ware and I was very happy to see this famous oak fourposter.

The River Lea gets very pretty between Ware and Hertford.

It's only a mile or so to Hertford from Ware and it's the first time the River Lea loses its wooden sides and is allowed to turn into a pretty country river with meadows on either side. I'm tired now so allow myself a break to watch the Canada geese fighting. It's a good decision as almost at once I spot the first swallow of summer fly down to the river surface to skim off insects.  I could watch all day... but somehow I remount, pedal on and take the turning off the path to Hertford East station. This isn't the train station I want (much easier to locate Hertford North) but it means i have to cross the busy county town and all its congested traffic. 

After the luxury of 25 miles off road the traffic seems quite challenging. Perhaps if you do this route with children it might be an idea to wheel the bikes through Hertford town centre - or possibly take the train from Ware back to Tottenham Hale where you can relocate  to the riverside path to pedal back into London and your start point without so much traffic stress.

Update
A few weeks later I walked from Hatfield to Hertford and after the idyllic 30 miles outlined above following the river was truly surprised to be on a section of the walk that is basically River Lea free until you get to Hertford. This is the Lea Valley Walk of course, but much of it is spent by the dismal A414, the outskirts of Welwyn Garden City and the Colne Valley cycle route along a former railway.

• I used The Lea Valley Walk - a guide book from www.cicerone.co.uk  I'm using the 3rd edition (2015) with a brown and green cover. It's excellent. Bet Livingstone would have liked to write for them.

Over to you
Tell me your river walking stories. Do you enjoy pacing the river bank? Do you prefer to cycle? What's your favourite river route?

Where to go when you love coffee

What coffee do you drink? Here are some ways to enjoy coffee (and food) Ethiopian style near Shepherd's Bush. Words from Nicola Baird.

Coffee the Ethiopian way.

My friend, the incredible singer Hanisha Solomon, who was born in Ethiopia, suggested we try eating at Flamingo - one of London's excellent Ethiopian restaurants - for a half-term treat. As another close friend, Nicky, and I both find it difficult to get our exam-stressed teenagers out of bed in the morning we thought it an excellent choice of treat, knowing Nell and Xander would be persuaded to leave the house for an Ethiopian lunch.  Which is how we became a party of six sitting around two sharing plates of neatly rolled injera and various triangular piles of vegetables.

In case you don't know much about Ethiopian music - this is my favourite song by Hanisha Solomon (listen while you read, and ideally buy her albums).

https://youtu.be/8wdV6vv4xE4

Injera is the delicious Ethiopian bread that works as a plate and an eating utensil (use the right hand!), looks tricky to make. The teens - our meat eating quotient - also had a rather generous heap of lamb cooked in two different ways. They both preferred the spicy option.

At Flamingo there is also a mini booth at the back of the restaurant acting as a fresh butcher.  It was quite something to see meat being carved off a trio of haunches, handed to the chef and cooked up. I didn't take a photo as it felt rude, but I wish I had - will have to go back.

Ethiopians have a very generous culture. Hanisha begged us to eat more, drink more water, eat more injera and soon we all felt rollingly full. Which is when the roasted Ethiopian coffee beans were brought to our table for inspection. The coffee was made out of sight then brought back in an iron pot and served in handleless cups with popcorn. What a treat.

Since I saw the award-winning Sundance documentary, Black Gold about the struggle to grow Ethiopian coffee, I try to buy fair trade, and ideally, Ethiopian beans. It's even more important when you know that 15 million Ethiopians make a living related to coffee (equal to 67 per cent of the country's foreign exports). But the farmers producing the beans may only make 12-25 cents (per kilo picked) leaving many impoverished. Here's a trailer from the film to inspire, explaining why fair "trade is more important than aid."

https://youtu.be/uiWDjObe_fs

One of the lovely things about Flamingo is that it isn't just packed with Ethiopians wanting a taste of home. There were also plenty of lunchers enjoying a good value, tasty meal close to Goldhawk Road tube. London has quite a few Ethiopian restaurants, and I certainly hope to visit more. But when it comes to coffee, which I drink in bucket-loads, daily, picking fair-priced Ethiopian beans has become a habit I'm happy to have.

• Have a meal at Flamingo, 31 Goldhawk Road, Shepherd's Bush, W12
• Join an Ethiopian cookery class on Wednesday 19 April from 7-9.30pm with Ethiopian Master Chef Tsige. For EC1 residents it's £5, anyone else £30. To book contact Central Street Cookery School, 90 Central Steet, London, EC1 (near Old Street) on 020 7549 8176 or info@centralstreet.org or check their website.
• More about Nicola Baird's books and blogs on  www.nicolabaird.com or www.islingtonfacesblog.com 

New ways to make a pilgrimage

Are you the pilgrim type? You might be as there's 100 million pilgrim journeys made each year alone. I think I could be... if I just pick the right attitude rather than a high profile route. Words from Nicola Baird  (see www.nicolabaird.com orwww.islingtonfacesblog.com for more info about my books and blogs).

The Lea Valley Walk finishes just after the Olympic Park at Stratford - so walk on
a West Ham home game and you'll get the added thrill of being with 57,000 football
fans. It's not as bad as it sounds - and the cheers of goals add to the celebration that
you've nearly finished a 50 mile walk. Or just started.

I’ve always assumed a pilgrimage isn’t right for me, even if 100 million people annually complete the 14 best known... according to the Huffington Post. These are:

1. The Ganges River, India
2. Mecca, Saudi Arabia
3. Golden Temple, Amritsar, India
4. Our Lady of Guadalupe, Mexico City
5. Vaishno Devi Temple, India
6. Lourdes, France
7. Bahai Gardens, Israel
8. Vatican, Rome
9. Jerusalem, Israel
10. Bethlehem, Israel
11. Machu Picchu, Peru
12. Rumi's Tomb, Turkey
13. Bodi Tree (fig tree), India
14. Stonehenge, Wiltshire * (I've been here, in fact cycled some of the way, see this post)

But the April 2017 issue of The Simple Things magazine has flipped my thinking. That’s because the criteria they set for a pilgrim fits beautifully into how I try and live (try, note). Here’s how to turn an ordinary walk into a pilgrimage (from the British Pilgrimage Trust )

1. Go slowly
2. Improve the way (pick up rubbish, shut gates, rescue what needs rescuing etc)
3. Accept more, need less
4. Pass the blessing on

==================================

REPORT CARD 2017

• Well #1 is no problem. It took nearly five years to complete the NewRiver Path (see my blog post here) despite it being short and practically ending by my door. 
• #2 is one I try and do, ideally by remembering to take a plastic bag for litter. Actually you don’t need to as I usually find at least one of the pieces of litter is an empty plastic bag - essentially offering itself to be filled with recyclables. 
• I’m not really sure about #3 – I sometimes beg my husband, Pete, to carry my rucksack (but in exchange I'll carry the dog poos) 
• #4 I’m useless at. But seems like a good new habit to make.

Judgment: Two out of four isn’t a bad start… I’m officially pilgrim-lite.

========================================

The next long walk starts here... The Lea
Valley Walk from Luton to the Thames.

Fortunately there’s a brand new journey - pilgrimage - to start. This time Pete and I are going to walk the Lea Valley Walk, using one of Cicerone’s handy guides. This one is written by Leigh Hatts (3^rd edition came out in 2015 so doesn't include the news that West Ham is now based at the Olympic Stadium, which is now called the London Stadium). The River Lea starts unpromisingly in Leagrave (such a strange name for a birth) then wiggles 50 miles across Bedfordshire and through the Olympic parts of London to the East India Dock and out to the River Thames. The ambitious walker can zip down this practically flat, super-waymarked, mostly off road route in 2 days. I expect to take much longer (see pilgrim rule #1).

Reading the guide this walk is surprisingly exciting because it covers the vast Lea Valley - something all council-tax paying Londoners contribute towards maintaining. I’ve done some volunteering clearing soapwort out of ditches with BTCV, listened to nightingales near Cheshunt and I’ve enjoyed plenty of more random walks around the area. But now I’m set on selling this as a wonderful journey across “London’s playground” and “London’s wildlife reserve” (depends who you talk to) because the Lea Valley according to former Mayor Boris Johnson is “London’s Lake District”.

The walk starts in Luton – which apparently is worth exploring for a day or two, somewhere I’ve never considered visiting. And because it also goes through the rather lovely towns of Harpendon, Hatfield and Hertford there are some excellent old pubs to try out (maybe this is rule #4 if I buy a pint for Pete when he is in need!).

The ending is conveniently close to the new West Ham stadium, where Pete spends a great deal of time (see pic above). So I can imagine being able to walk several chunks of the final section of the Lea Valley Walk with him before or after home games. This will definitely offer litter-picking opportunities (see #2)

Lea Valley Park Authority HQ is based at
Myddleton House (a tiny but worthwhile detour
from the Lea Valley Walk.

Ready, steady, go
So in March 2017 we began our Lea Valley Walk with... a detour to Myddleton House which is the Lea Valley Park Authority HQ. It’s also a key detour for the New River Walk. 

Myddleton House has an exquisite spring garden – designed like an Alpine meadow by EA Bowles (1865-1954). It’s about the only place on the Lea Valley or New River walks that is vehemently anti-dog. But… you must go in the spring for a quick look at the blanket of daffodils planted near where the New River used to run and then try counting the bee hives (6+). There’s also a lovely tea room. Actually there’s another nice tea room at the next door estate, Forty Hall, which is about a 15 minute (slow) walk away. And here I met a school governing colleague who’d been on a mission to collect a bag of lion poo (as you do) at one of the many garden centres I'd never noticed in the area because they are just behind the A10.

The A10 is theoretically my road in and out of London. As a car owner (and even now occasionally when renting a car to visit my Herts-based family) I’ve driven along it many times… so it has been a real pleasure diving off the A10 on foot (via train stations like Turkey Street and dual carriage pedestrian underpasses) to discover that Enfield is big on ribbon development but behind the grim A10 (sorry road lovers) the countryside is old-fashioned idyllic, both on the west side around Myddleton House Gardens, Forty Hall and the horticultural training centre  Capel Manor, as well of course as the huge chunk of eastern wetlands that make up the 10,000 acre Lea Valley park.  I can see now why people really like living here. As ever a journey by foot tells you so much more than a journey by car. 

So far the Lea Valley Walk has been a 10/10. I just wonder how long it will take for me to complete it. Do you think the modern pilgrim-lite is allowed to start a sweepstake?

• The Lea Valley Walk, Leigh Hatts (Cicerone, £12.95) (note the author's name!)
• leevalleypark.org.uk  (strange fact from the book: "there are at least 25 different spellings for the river's name")
• visitleevalleyorg.uk/cycling

How the New River Path makes you think about... deserts

How well do you know where you live? I'm based in London so it's a pleasure to explore a little known path along a canal that runs from Hertford directly into Islington. Words from Nicola Baird  (see www.nicolabaird.com or www.islingtonfacesblog.com for more info about my books and blogs).

Pete on a section of the New River Path. "Water, water everywhere, and
not a drop to drink," - a famous line from The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner.

The New River Path is a 28 mile (45km) footpath which stays close to a canal, hand-dug back in 1613. It was built to bring fresh drinking water from the springs at Amwell, near Hertford into north London. Quite amazingly it's still doing this job. I know this because at the entrance to many of the grassy paths running on just one bank of each section of the New River (which as you've guessed now is neither new, nor a river) is a Thames Water notice saying that it brings fresh water to north London so no fishing or boating is allowed (and cyclists are definitely not welcome).

Here's a link to the map created by Thames Water which guides you along the whole of the New River Path.

The classic New River Path view
with swan, goose and kissing gate.

More friendly is the sign that says "non public right of way but the owner allows the public to use it at their own risk for the time being."

It is however a wonderful walk from or to the heart of Islington where I live. In fact the ending is at the old river head close to Sadler's Wells (the clue is in that name too). This is now super chic apartments (I know because i managed to slip into the building at the last September Open House) which has the old oak-panelled board room in situ which residents are allowed to hire this for dinner parties!

Real deserts
Do you take potable water for granted? I absolutely do. It is such luck to live in the UK and be able to moan about our crazy climate with its endless rain showers. We got wet plenty of times on our New River odyssey. And if we forgot water we just looked for a pub and asked for a free glass or for our water bottle to be topped up.

Food deserts
A lot of the New River takes the walker through suburbia - rows of Edwardian style villas adapted to make it easy to drive everywhere. As a result there are no corner shops and no cafes selling a nice cup of tea - unless you head to the centre of the area you are passing, or a cafe in a park. So many front gardens are paved over and crowded with cars - often there's space for three vehicles.

Cultural deserts
I really like Cheshunt - to the east of the railway station is an entrance to Lee Valley Park, designed both as a nature reserve and London's playground. I've been here to take a walk, to listen to nightingales and simply to escape the city. But to the west of the station Cheshunt is a good example of dreadful ribbon development. The houses are rarely above two-floors so they seem to spread out for miles. I'd thought of Cheshunt as the countryside, partly because it is not on the A-Z. But there is considerable new building going up - a lot of it daft executive style homes built in too grand a style, too close to each other. It's true that I'm used to the Victorian/Georgian streets of Islington but they are at least offer high density living. Although i guess that's why people move out too, to get more space. But "more space" is at the expense of green and brown belt.

Increasingly Cheshunt has become a London overflow. For example the lovely lady I've been mentoring through Migrants Organise was temporarily housed in Cheshunt, byTottenham Council - much to her distress. She knew it wasn't London where she wanted to be - in part because it lacks bus services (although there are some) and the sort of cheap food shop she needed to survive. It was also an exceedingly expensive journey to her children's school in inner London. I couldn't convince her to visit the New River Path as she felt it was too far for her and her little kids to walk. Sadly she was a little scared of the Lee Valley Country Park.

Map 1 of 5 which guide you along
the New River Path.

Memories from the New River Path
It's taken my family nine trips starting in October 2013 and finishing in March 2017...

• Detouring in Ware to look at the famous gazebos built along the River Lea
• Endless stopping for someone in the party to put on a hat, take off gloves, have a rest, need a drink, pick up the dog's poo etc. If you walk with others build in hours of wasted (quality) time. If you route march you can be sure your family and friends won't join you again.
• Introducing our daughters' friends to the New River Path
• Listening to more than 100 Canada and Egyptian geese on the fields near the Cheshunt section
• Being surprised to find the New River was put into a double-tunnel above the traffic to cross the M25 motorway.
• Watching a cormorant dive and catch a fish in Enfield.
• Hearing a swan beat its wings as it flew down a section of New River, about 2 metres above the water.
• Finding a surprise farmers' market in Palmer's Green and buying a tasty loaf of bread.
• The New River Festival held in Finsbury Park to celebrate 400 years since the canal was built.

New River path is on the left of this shot at the London Wildlife Trust's
newest reserve in Hackney.

What's the best bit?
Recently the East Reservoir has become a stunning Wildlife Trust nature reserve - opened by David Attenborough and boasting all sorts of fantastic wildlife, including the occasional bittern. There's also a fab cafe, Lizzy's at the Coal House Cafe (open every day 9am-4pm, not long after the reserve is locked). A walk beside the reed beds is always a treat, even if there's plenty of noise from Purin or any other festival sounds floating from not-so-far away Clissold Park. This huge expanse of water is the opposite of a desert - we're lucky to have it in north London.

Over to you
Have you enjoyed a trip down the New River path? Let me know your favourite section.

That dream of cycling away via the Danube

What's the furthest you've ever cycled? And could you go further? Words from Nicola Baird  (see www.nicolabaird.com for more info about my books and blogs).

Bikes with unusual loads, but the paniers have all sorts of potential
for a long journey.

About 10 years after I left university a guy in the year above had a book published about cycling across Chile, Argentina and Bolivia to raise funds for the Leukaemia Reseach Fund. I was so impressed that even another 20 years on, during a recent book clear out I decided to keep his book on my shelves. This was clearly a man who knew something secret about life and tenacity. The trail to Titicaca by Rupert Attlee is a good read too.

Long distance journeys have always been popular. It's a challenging way to grow up, get away from the old you, fit into your skin, explore etc. We all know travel's attraction dating right back to Odysseus (the Greek who gave us the wonderful word odyssey).

Nowadays long distance travel is often more about taking a holiday to push yourself because (good) experiences are more important than possessions. I pretty much agree with that sentiment (especially if it involves low carbon travel and doesn't begin and end with a plane flight), except somehow I've never managed to cycle more than 50 miles in one day. But, I remember that journey with pride as I managed to get from London to Oxford in aid of charity. It was a total killer and at the celebration gig afterwards with the exuberant Bhundu Boys (from Zimbabwe) playing I crashed out asleep. Clearly I wasn't bicycle honed. And yet I've cycled almost every day since I was 16 years old at sixth form, and love the way a bicycle offers freedom and speedy journeys.

No surprise then that I like to read about bike journeys. At the start of 2017 I was hooked by Tim Moore's latest book The Cyclist Who Went Out In the Cold. Tim has a serious track record at pushing himself to do slightly daft - aka challenging - routes. This time he cycles 6,000 miles along the route of the old Cold War front on a tiny-wheeled, two-geared East German-made shopping bike (a MIFA 900). And he starts the journey in the Arctic Circle, in winter: you couldn't make his stories up. It's an inspiring read, often funny and good for your Cold War knowledge (well it's helped mine)...

When you see a cycle book and think
that could be me out there...

The perseverance travel bug kicks in fast.

Inspired by Tim Moore's cycle journeys up the Alps, and along historic borders I'm now looking closely at The Danube Cycleway (volume 2), published by long distance travel guide specialists Cicerone, thinking could I? Could I get on my bike and pedal from Budapest to the Black Sea (this is the end part of Europe's second longest river)?

My guidebook isn't dog-eared yet, but I've read a few of the recommended stages and feel it's possible. I think it helps having a cyclist in glasses gracing the front cover who looks rather like a government ad to get more women active ("still slow, still lapping the couch"). That woman could be me. Or it could be me when I've got just a few less childcare responsibilities. Unless of course I can talk my youngest teenager into joining me...

The Danube Cycleway (Volume 1 and 2) are extremely detailed, but not that huge. Which is why they recommend taking additional more detailed maps for Hungary, Croatia, Serbia and Romania and provide info about where to find those formal maps. I feel the Cicerone approach really works for an armchair traveller (who might well become the real thing) - as it helps you imagine (and potentially plan) every detail from what to wear to how to get your bike to the starting point. There are some great tables which show the mileage, likely timings, location of cycle shops and accommodation. This kind of info isn't in Tim Moore's book - it makes his ability to cycle such challenging routes seem extra brilliant - but it clearly saves hours of research. It's still going to be hard work doing the route planning (eg, around weather, where to stay and language).

I have real problems looking at maps and seeing their world. Guide books make it a bit easier to imagine the terrain, people and even sunlight. Nothing beats being there, but in order to decide where to be these handy Cicerone guides take me a lot closer to a 3D imagining! And perhaps it's almost a sign that the last person to cut my hair grew up in Budapest...

More tellingly both Tim Moore's book and the Danube Cycleway make Romania look the sort of country I would adore visiting, even if Romanian dogs are clearly not keen on cyclists.

The Danube Cycleway (vol 2 from Budapest to the Black Sea) by Mike Wells (Cicerone, £16.95)