Day 6: The worst journey in the world

Up at sparrow’s fart to participate in the Banstead Woods park run. Park runs appear to be like the Hash Harriers – a sort of international fun-running thing. I registered for this and got an entry, which was free. 

My barcode for the race

It is a 5km run through the woods. I ended up as you can see from the results doing appallingly due my vast bulk. Were I 10kg lighter I should have run like the wind. 

Good grief - but 4th in my age group (probably out of 4!)

But perhaps I should not complain: I am 64 in two weeks and am perhaps unusual in still being able to waddle around a running course. This reminds me that I have only those two weeks to sing with the Beatles “When I’m 64”.

The assembled throng ready to start

Left: Before - David, Ali, me, Kristen, Peter and right: After - Peter, David, Ali, Kristen, me

In action ... me, David, Ali, Kristen and Peter

The G was official track photographer for the race but lost interest and took instead woodland photos of remarkable beauty. In my opinion these should be entered into a competition.

Dingly Dell: on the left is the whole scene of fungi covering a tree trunk. On the right is a closer view of part of the scene. 

On to Kew …

Today is the day that we are due to leave my sister and head to Kew which is where my nephew’s wedding is to be held. They are to be married in Kew Gardens itself. We are due to stay on a houseboat at Kew which The G discovered through AirBnB (www.airbnb.com.au). We packed up and eventually set off.

Readers may know that “The worst journey in the world” is the title of the book written by Apsley Cherry-Garrard that tells the story of Scott’s 1910-1913 British Antarctic Expedition. This was a largely futile attempt to collect ornithological data to support a theory that was discredited almost by the time they returned.

Robert Falcon Scott working in a hut

Burke and Wills' route

There are many other examples of difficult journeys. Burke and Wills come to mind. In 1860 they set out to find a land route from Melbourne to Australia’s north coast. They set out with such essential supplies as 1,500 pounds (680kg) of sugar, a filing cabinet, a heavy wooden table and matching chairs, and a giant gong. They timed their trip to coincide with a blisteringly hot summer and the two quickly ran out of supplies, temper, and luck. They finally got to the north coast to find it obscured by miles of mangrove swamps. They died on the way back.

I could go on about bad journeys but I will not. What I will say is that there is another contender for worst journey of the world and that is the journey in September 2014 between Chipstead Way, Banstead and Kew Gardens undertaken by me and The G in a Kia Sportage. 

The only thing that was right about this journey was that we arrived. My sister had kindly printed a set of Google map directions which proved to be wrong within the first mile. We soldiered on and after 20 minutes of driving through country lanes arrived back at my sister’s house. We’re not quite sure how we managed this feat but undaunted, and aided by David (my other nephew), set off again. This time we made it but only after two hours compared with the estimated journey time of about 45 minutes. I will not provide details of the journey as these would cause you, gentle reader, too much grief. I have, however, agreed with The G that I will never, ever hire a car again without satnav (I have the data on the phone turned off). Let me repeat this below for the benefit of The G.

A solemn promise to The G

We found the houseboat and after some further difficulty with keys we set up camp. The term “houseboat” perhaps conjures up images of brightly painted boats that at one time would have been drawn along by horses. This houseboat is not like that: it is more like a converted barge. It is quirky and – as we discovered – has the most comfortable bed. It is moored at the northern end of the Kew Bridge. The present bridge was originally called the King Edward VII Bridge and was opened by that eponymous monarch in 1903. It replaced a bridge that had been built in 1759.

Kew Bridge: this is what we can see from the houseboat

We had to return the dreadful hire car so we had to drive back into London to the Hertz place in Edgeware Road. I have dropped millions of cars here in my long and illustrious past and fining it was a breeze. The Hertz man, who was delightful, made the mistake of asking how we found the car. I was measured in my observations of the qualities of the Korean design that we had enjoyed.

Edgeware Road underground station sign

We caught the tube back to Kew Gardens and by this time we were tired and thirsty. Right outside the Kew Gardens tube station is a pub called The Tap On Line (www.tapontheline.co.uk). The G had a half of Cornish cider and I had one of Fuller’s London Pride. By golly it was good.

The Tap on Line - very pleasant

We decided to look around for dinner and as we walked out of the pub I was rewarded by the sight of a French registered Citroen DS23. I once had a decapotable version but when I do finally buy another DS23 it will be black like this one.

Citroen DS23 - a thing of great Gallic beauty, possibly proof that God exists

We found another pub after some walking called The Coach and Horses (www.coachhotelkew.co.uk). We dined there. A fine bottle of Argentinian Malbec washed down homemade pork scratchings and very competent pub dinner.

The Coach and Horses: do not go here if you cannot hand huge quantities of tucker

We wandered back our boat and I was rewarded again by the sight of a somewhat tired but still presentable late 70s Triumph Spitfire Mark IV. I drove one of these in the late 70s and would love to have a go now.

Triumph Spitfire Mark IV

Here are some other images I took as we wandered back.

A Victorian terrace

Swans

A Fitbit Flex

I slept, I found the following morning by consulting my Fitbit Dashboard, for 9 hours and 16 minutes!!

Note: Readers may care to note that The G and I, as up to the minute technophiles, are into wearable technology. Our Fitbit Flexes (www.fitbit.com) are worn on the wrist and tell us how we have slept, when we awoke, how many steps we walk and how many calories we burn.

A record of the day's activities - at least someone thinks I am a champ!!