Monday, 18 February 2019

The Ponds and the Southerns: Swimming and running in the Hampstead Heath sporting landscape

I enjoyed 'The Ponds' (2018),  Patrick McLennan and Samuel Smith's documentary following a year in the life of the famous outdoor men's, women's and mixed swimming ponds on London's Hampstead Heath. Much of what was said about the joys of this kind of swimming can be translated to running - the therapeutic effects of exercise, the appreciation of being outdoors in all weathers, the companionship of the intrepid band of enthusiasts.

I was particularly struck by one of the swimmers referring to what he referred to as a Russian concept of  living water ('Zhivaya voda'), with the pools somehow infused with some of the life force of all who have swam in them before- something continually renewed by each swimmer returning to the water.

I sometimes have a similar sensation running over historic courses in the footsteps of thousands who have run them before. This is nowhere more so than on Hampstead Heath where I ran in the South of England Cross Country Championships last month. Athletics shares the sporting landscape of the Heath with swimming, with its cross country courses and of course the Highgate Harriers running track at the bottom of Parliament Hill  - in recent years home to the iconic 'Night of 10,000m PBs' races.

The cross country races start by another swimming landmark on the Heath - the Parliament Fields Lido -from where so many runners have charged up to the top of the hill at the start of the National and Southern Champs. Most of the greats of English athletics have run that course, including David Bedford who incidentally features briefly in 'The Ponds' as a sometime swimmer.

The start of the senior women's race in South of England Cross Country Championships,
Parliament Hill, 26 January 2019
The Southerns have been happening on the Heath since 1954 and the Nationals since 1957, but as the even longer history of the Ponds shows we should not take this for granted. As recently as 2004 the City of London Corporation, which is responsible for the Heath, tried to close down the Ponds but backed down after a successful campaign. I saw 'The Ponds' last month at a screening at the Phoenix Cinema (East Finchley) with a Q&A afterwards with the directors and a representative of the Kenwood Ladies Pond Association. The latter mentioned that the Ponds have got increasingly busy with the current outdoor swimming boom, something that some of those used to the previous early morning solitude may be ambivalent about - but which helps build the case that stopping swimming there would be unthinkable. Likewise there were nearly 6,000 entries for the Southern cross country champs this year. Long may running and swimming continue on the living tracks and waters of Hampstead Heath.

See previously:

Back to Parliament Hill: South of England Cross Country Championships 2016
National Cross Country Champs, Parliament Hill 2015

Sunday, 30 December 2018

Islay: walking to Solam and seeing an Eagle

One of the outdoor highlights of my year was a walk I did on Islay back in May with my son/long distance walking companion Billy. We have previously walked up to the island's highest point (Beinn Bheigier), as well as walking to the highest point on England’s south coast (Golden Cap in in West Dorset) among other places.

But our most difficult walk so far was in search of Solam, an abandoned settlement in the hills north of  Ardbeg. It is a walk I have done a number of times and have always found both frustrating and rewarding. I’ve never managed to locate the same places each time and I’ve always got lost at some point.

My first visit was way back in 1984 when my dad, who came  from that part of Islay, led my family over the hills from Callumkill – the farm where my grandparents lived and worked. My memory of that visit is trekking through boggy ground on a hot summer’s day while my dad kept promising “It must be over that next hill”. What we did find eventually, concealed in a hillside, was Tobar  na Dabhaich (well of the hollow). Also known as Saint Michael's Well, my father told me that it was a place where people visited for good luck when they got married, and indeed there were at least two horseshoes above in the rock when we found it, one old and rusted and one seemingly fairly recent with ribbon attached. I believe there were also coins in the water. The well also seems to have been the water supply for a nearby settlement reputed in Islay folklore to have been an abandoned plague village. Some trace of its buildings can apparently be seen near the well... if you can find it.

Me and my sister at the well in 1984 - you can just about make out horseshoes in rock above

In 2005 I tried to find the well again with 'clear' directions from my uncle who lives nearby. Not wanting to repeat my dad’s experience of searching in the company of increasingly tired children, I thought it would be best if I went exploring on my own first. The idea was that having found the well and remembered the route I would then return with the rest of the family later on – it would be so easy! I had the ordinance survey map for the area in my back pocket but unbeknownst to me it fell out as I was climbing over the first gate. The weather turned from sunny to cloudy and I found myself lost in bracken that was as tall as me. I had no map and no phone signal, I failed to find the well or any ruins but I did end up at a lonely Loch Larnan with just me and a couple of swans. The Loch feeds Ardbeg distillery with fresh water via the Ardbeg Burn, a stream which you will need to cross to get to Solam - there is a bridge but if you can't even find that you may not get far. When I stumbled across a dead cow lying across the path I took it as a sign to return home

This year with Billy I had the advantage of GPS with the OS map on my phone. The first part is easy enough anyway - you start at the crossroads where the road into Ardbeg diverges from the main road (you can park car/bike in distillery car park). On the north east corner of this there is a single house with a track to its right which you follow for as far as it goes.

After a field, the track turns left, and ends up at the bottom of a hill with a ruin on top of it You can either follow the track round to the left to skirt the hill or climb over it via the ruin.

We did the latter. This is marked on the map as 'Airigh Nam Beist' (Shelter of the beast) - the name given to a popular bottling of Ardbeg whisky.

From the bottom of this hill you head across to the bridge across the Ardbeg Burn. After this things got very muddy and we soon got lost. The phone ran out of power eventually and of course in the hills the signal was patchy. The Strava map for this part of our walk before the phone gave out shows that we were walking round in circles some of the time. The low ground there is very marshy, it’s difficult – probably impossible – to avoid getting your feet wet. Once again I failed to find the well!

What we did stumble across was remarkable though. Between us we saw three Adders, recognisable by the zigzag pattern on their backs. That was slightly alarming as you would clearly be in trouble up in the hills with a poisonous snake bite. But as we were scouring the hills for the well a Golden Eagle flew out a few metres in front of us. I believe it was nesting in the rocks, we could hear the young ones in the nest. I’ve only ever seen a (presumed) eagle in the distance before, up close there is nothing like it with its a huge wingspan.

We ended up at the ruin of a house at Solam. This is not one of the supposed 'plague village' remains near the well, but there is a sign here telling its story.

The sign telling the story of the 'plague village' - the legend is that the villagers became infected as a result of a gift of a mother of pearl necklace from a shipwrecked sailor. Food was left out for the quarantined villagers until they all died (see here for more discussion about this story - there may be truth in it but very unlikely that this happened in 18th century.

The way back was not so bad. The ruined house is next to the boundary wall for the Callumkill estate, you can see the building marked on the map next to the letter in Solam on OS Map (extract below). From there there is a fairly direct path back though not as easy as it looks on map - we got our feet wet again but were passed caring by then.

Sometimes the best journeys are those which don’t reach their intended destination but which find something unexpected along the way. I can't leave detailed instructions for this walk. My various misadventures have made me wonder if we are really meant to find everything there- out in the lonely country it’s not hard to believe in fairies or other mysteries! So do go and explore but take care... and maybe wear wellies.

See also-

Islay running posts:

Sunday, 23 December 2018

Record Sleeve Athletics (13): Rodney Franklin

It's been a while since I discovered an athletics-themed album sleeve, but stumbled across another one this week while browsing through a record stall in Shoreditch..

American jazz/funk pianist and composer Rodney Franklin is best known in the UK for his 1980 top ten hit 'The Groove'. His 1984 album Marathon has him running through a rocky landscape, albeit with a somewhat unorthodox stride.

The title track is an electro-funk instrumental

Saturday, 1 December 2018

Oxford Outdoor Swimming

The rivers of Oxford and its surrounding countryside must have nearly as much literary history flowing in them as water, perhaps nowhere more so than at Port Meadow to the north/west of the city. Most famously Charles Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) is said to have begun telling what became the Alice in Wonderland stories on a boat to Port Meadow with Alice Liddell and her sisters in 1862.

Gerard Manley Hopkins bemoaned the 1879 felling of trees overlooking Port Meadow in his early environmentalist poem 'Binsey Poplars': 'All felled, felled, are all felled...Not spared, not one / That dandled a sandalled / Shadow that swam or sank / On meadow & river & wind-wandering weed-winding bank'. Most recently, Philip Pulman has recently centred his Book of Dust: La Belle Sauvage '3 miles up the river Thames from the centre of Oxford, some distance from where the great colleges… contended for mastery in the boat races, out where the city was only a collection of towers and spires in the distance over the misty levels of Port Meadow'.

In fact the hero of the novel lives, in a different version of our universe, at the Trout Inn - an actual pub next to the Thames at Wolvercote dating back to the 17th century. And it was here back in September that we parked in the car park to swim in the river (as it turned out we could also have parked at the Port Meadow Godstow Car Park a few hundred metres away across the bridge on the meadow side of the river).

This is the first year I've embraced outdoor swimming, trying to keep up with Jools who has led me round the country in search of wild water adventures. At Port Meadow we had a quick dip in the river - at its north west corner it is actually the Wolvercote Mill Stream next to the meadow, flowing to rejoin the Thames from which it draws it water (it once powered the paper mill at Wolvercote which supplied paper to the Oxford University Press).

Just across the old Wolvercote toll bridge there is a rope swing on the stream. We actually got in just a bit further along. The stream was shallow in September, but suitable for breast stroke.

We also checked out Oxford's fine heated outdoor pool - Hinksey Pool dates back to the 1930s and began life as the filter beds of the city waterworks. It's about twenty minutes walk from the city centre, where we went afterwards to check out the 'Spellbound: magic, ritual and witchcraft' exhibition at the Ashmolean Museum.

Monday, 5 November 2018

Running on Screen: A Discovery of Witches

'A Discovery of Witches' is a tale of witches, vampires and daemons, starting out in contemporary Oxford where witch-in-denial Diana Bishop is doing research into alchemy in the library. In episode one of the recent TV adaption, we see Diana (played by Teresa Palmer) running and rowing along the river. In a later episode - spoiler alert - we see her being kidnapped by another witch while out for a run and tortured upside down in her best Sweaty Betty gear.

The TV series is an adaptation of the the novel by Deborah Harkness, in which Diana explains that all this exercise helps her manage her anixety - and no doubt burn up some of her excess energy as she initially denies her magical powers. She goes for runs, her feet pounding 'on familiar dirt paths through the fields and marshes north of the city', and takes a yoga class especially for supernatural creatures (a scene not included in TV version).

But it is rowing that is her first love: 'I’d tried medication and meditation, but nothing was better for keeping panic at bay then physical activity. In Oxford it was rowing each morning before the college crews turned the narrow river into a thoroughfare… Rowing was a religion for me, composed of a set of rituals and movements repeated until they became a meditation... as my movements flowed into a seamless cadence, it felt as though I were flying. During these blissful moments, I was suspended in time and space, nothing but a weightless body on a moving river'.

Previously in the Running on Screen series:

Thursday, 11 October 2018

A.S. Gispert, Hash House Harriers and the Brockley and Ladywell Cemeteries Mile

Brockley and Ladywell Cemeteries are two adjoining Victorian burial grounds near to me in SE London. The distance around the outside is pretty much exactly a mile, so yes for better or worse somebody has created a Strava segment called 'Death Mile'. 

And so it came to pass that during the summer a group of us did an unofficial 'Death Mile' time trial. The paths are mostly too narrow for more than one person at a time, and even first thing on a Sunday morning there are dog walkers and other cemetery lovers so taking turns to run was really the only way to go (one of the dog walkers told us we were the politest runners they'd met, we were all being double friendly).

The cemetery has some interesting graves, including those of  the pioneering educationalists Rachel and Margaret McMillan, Cuban anarchist Fernando Del Marmol and the poet Ernest Dowson who memorably wrote this reminder to runners:

'They are not long, the days of wine and roses,
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream'.

But perhaps most pertinently for runners, in the Roman Catholic section of the cemetery there is a monument to the family of Albert Stephen Ignatius Gispert. Born in 1903 to Arthur and Remedio Gispert of 80 Breakspears Road, Brockley, 'G' (as he became known) was of Spanish/Catalan background. While stationed in Malaysia in the 1930s he helped found a running club which he christened the 'Hash House Harriers' (HHH - derived from the nickname of the colonial era Selangor Club Chambers)  The club events involved a non-competitive cross country paper chase with a strong emphasis on socialising afterwards. 

Gispert was killed in February 1942 in the Battle of Singapore during the Japanese invasion, but 'hashing' flourished after the war. Today there are still hundreds of  HHH groups around the world, their popular slogan of 'a drinking club with a running problem' giving you a flavour of their culture.

So after our run we made our way to Gispert's memorial...

And it seemed entirely appropriate to have a drink there, even if it was still morning.

In fact one of our number had brewed a very fine Black IPA especially

(*not 100% sure if Gispert is buried in the grave, or just remembered there - the bodies of many of those who died overseas were never recovered and repatriated)

Thursday, 27 September 2018

When Kent AC were based at the Brockley Jack (1900s)

Like most sporting bodies, my running club Kent AC has an association with certain watering holes. We have our annual general meeting at the Blythe Hill Tavern in Catford, we gather each year after the London Marathon at the Chandos by Trafalgar Square, and lately we've had social events at The Station Hotel in Hither Green and the Blackheath Wanderers club house on Eltham Road.

Still in the old days Kent AC, like many clubs, not only gathered in pubs but had their headquarters there. This headed paper is from the 1900s (it is from the club's archives held at Lewisham Local Studies Centre) and shows that the club's headquarters at that point were at the 'The Brockley Jack Hotel, Crofton Park'.

The Brockley Jack had just been rebuilt at this point, the current building from 1898 replacing an older inn once known as The Castle on the same site (see history at Transpontine).  Writing in the 1890s, Walter Besant claimed rather dubiously that  'It was named after Jack Cade and was formerly frequented by Dick Turpin and other highwaymen' (London South of the Thames).

The Brockley Jack in 1905, looking much the same as it does now
The Jack on Brockley Road is no longer a club HQ, but it is still very much in Kent AC's London Borough of Lewisham heartland, just a mile or so away from our track at Ladywell Arena. Interestingly Kent AC's headed paper from this period also mentions somewhere further away - 'Country Quarters' at 'The Tiger's Head, Bromley'.

With Lewisham becoming increasingly urbanised by the 1900s, the club no doubt had to go further out for cross country races, hence a Bromley HQ perhaps. Not sure what pub this refers to though. There is a still standing Tigers Head on Masons Hill BR2 in Bromley proper, but there was also a now demolished pub of this name on the Bromley Road, Bellingham which would have been closer to to Kent AC territory.

Still have a plan for a run between pubs associated with the club at some point, would be good to find out more about this and the people mentioned - the honorary secretary is named as Carl Wallace, 94 Lewisham Road, with his deputy 'F. Till, 10 Chesterfield Grove, East Dulwich'.