Mpora Thames Walk Challenge

Even more kind people

2006-10-16T04:37:00.000-07:00

The sponsorship donations are still coming in and yet more wonderful folk have opened their wallets to provide support for Morence and all at the Mpora Rural Family Home.

Joan Hoggan
Carolyn Scott
Alan Rowles
Liz Sadorge
Christine Gilbert
Gerard Davy
Rob English
Derek Coleman
Tim Goodall

The overall amount is looking very healthy and once all monies have been collected I will be delighted to reveal the final amount.

Feel free to email me at [my first and second name]@yahoo.co.uk if you want to know more about making an annual contribution.

Thanks!

How to pay your sponsorship

2006-08-14T12:04:00.000-07:00

I'll be sending an email to everyone who has contacted me about sponsorship with full details but the basics are here:

There are three main ways of paying the sponsorship:

a) put the cash directly into my grubby little hands

b) send me a cheque payable to the Mpora Orphanage Fund (I will email my address to you)

c) do an internet banking transfer to the account (I will email full details)

If you have not heard from me and would like to make a contribution, please email me at [my first and second name]@yahoo.co.uk

Unfortunately we can't do gift aid or credit card donations at the moment so please bear with this clunky payment method.

Cheers!
Valerie

Your generosity knows no bounds - more splendid sponsors!

2006-08-14T10:24:00.000-07:00

Since my last posting regarding sponsorship, even more lovely people have come forward to offer funds to the Mpora Rural Family Home. In no particular order they are:

Colly Myers
Jim Docking
Vero Musson
Kevin Sadler
Louise Wilson
David and Ondine Rowles
Kim O'Brien
Barbara Wharton
Carol Purcell
Ann McCarthy
Doug and Liz Trickett
Sheila Rowell
Cherry Douglas
Kathleen and Ed Colledge
Duncan Shepherd and Renate Hering
David and Bobby Anderson
Gerry Morrison
Tom and Sally O'Regan
Rowina Said
Simon Battle
Karen Marley
Fiona Parker

Thanks very much indeed for all your help!

Photographs part 3 - The Evidence!

2006-08-14T08:42:00.000-07:00

Did I really do it? Hopefully this is all the proof you need:

At the source of the Thames in a remote Gloucestershire meadow, not far from Cirencester. Can you detect that slight concern that I may have bitten off more than I could chew?

At the end of the first day in.... well you can see where I am. What you may not be able to tell is that I am womanfully concealing the fact that my back has gone into spasm and I need some serious drugs or at least an ibuprofen.

Cuddling up to Old Father Thames at St John's Lock, the first Lock on the river. This is at Lechlade which calls itself the second township on the Thames. Can a place without a single cashpoint actually be called a town?

Yes, that really is me. Those of you who know of my distaste for total immersion into cold water will be astonished. But it was surprisingly pleasant on a humid and sultry Saturday afternoon in August. I didn't even really mind the the weeds, mud and fish nibbling at my toes.. well not too much. That's an extra fiver you owe me Nick!

At Teddington Locks, the penultimate and most elaborate lock system on the Thames with my good friend Fiona who lives there. Well, not actually in the lock of course.

Having a cosy chat with Dr Salter in Rotherhithe. I know just how to deal with these local types.

At the end with my big nephew Sonny. You may have noticed that I am wearing the same walking clothes all the way through. (I did wash them occasionally). Can you imagine what a personal sacrifice that is for someone who used to work at London College of Fashion??

Photographs part 2 - Some of My Wonderful Walking Partners

2006-08-14T05:50:00.000-07:00

Amazing Aussie Trish who drove me to Lechlade and accompanied me for the first two days

Bill 'rough diamond' Batchelor; about to tell me to send another question to AQA

Zimbabwean iron man, Colly Myers

Dom Rowles - who walked with me from my B&B to the pub and back in Pangbourne - good effort mate!

Dad, Mum, Me and Uncle Alan - see the family resemblance?

Billie George Rowles - a lady with an appetite

Sonny Ray Rowles who assures me on a regular basis that he's a 'big boy now'

Thanks also to: Gill Higgins, Nick Healey, Fiona Parker, Karen Smith and Gabrielle Rowles as well as Jo Payne who didn't walk with me but came all the way to Oxford to pick me up and took me back again the next day refreshed and revitalised.

Some photographs from the Thames Path Challenge 28 July to 11 August 2006

2006-08-14T03:51:00.000-07:00

Here in all their technicolour glory are some of the snaps I took along the way. Where possible I have managed to insert relevant pic's in the earlier posts but this has sometimes defeated my limited software skills. So here, for better or worse, is the PROOF!

The Thames from young infant to adolescent.... as opposed to old father

Really hardly more than a puddle about a couple of hours into the walk, near Ewen

Flowing through the lovely village of Ashton Keynes

Beyond Cricklade, near to Eysey Manor

The Ha'penny Bridge at Lechlade, with the river only just navigable

Between Old Man's Bridge and Rushey Lock on day 3

The medieval Newbridge and the Rose Revived Pub, both in Cotswold Stone.

Whitchurch-on-Thames in Oxfordshire

More photos to come.

Day 15 - Waterloo to Thames Barrier - Friday 11 August

2006-08-14T02:29:00.000-07:00

Distance: 13.5 miles
Time: 5 hours 3 mins
Walking Partners: Uncle Alan (Waterloo to North Greenwich); Dad, Bek, and Sonny (North Greenwich to Thames Barrier and the END!)
Accommodation: Home

Three miles in on the last day and still smiling.

Catching the train up to Waterloo with the commuters seemed a strange way to start my last day of the Thames Path Challenge. Two weeks ago with Trish I had passed a day walking through rural Gloucestershire and we saw only one other person on the trail. Even a week ago walking from Pangbourne to Sonning I had spent much of the walk in open fields with one or two dog walkers. My expectation was that it would be a get-it-over-and-done-with kind of route march with little of interest to see as I know (or thought I knew) London pretty well. But being in reality a West End girl, the path after Tower Bridge was completely new and totally fascinating. Even Uncle Alan who worked man and boy in the city was staggered by the refurbishment and renewal of places like Wapping and Rotherhithe. All very des res these days. He did still seem to have a homing instinct for most of the pubs in the area though, with a memory of some misdemeanour in each one which is why I presume we weren't able to go into any of them.

Uncle Alan, being a senior gent, was only expecting to walk to Tower Bridge with me but after we stopped for a coffee at the Blue Print Cafe at the Design Museum he declared himself to be fit to carry on and eventually did 11 and a half miles with no sign of weariness whatsoever. I keeping my fingers crossed that I've inherited those Rowles genes!

There were lots of historical plaques and little nuggets of trivia in the guide book to make us feel that we were learning loads about ye olde London town though inevitably I can barely remember any of it now. But it was really interesting at the time... We lunched at the delightful Cafe Nabo in the Surrey Docks Farm where you can sip on your latte surrounded by the sights, sounds (and smells) of a variety of farmyard animals which feels faintly incongruous with Canary Wharf in the background.

This was our view for a very long time.

After Rotherhithe we entered Deptford which I would say, how shall I put it, is a bit tasty. The route goes away from the river for a whole section and you walk through parks which give you a strong inclination to clutch your valuables to your breast and avoid eye contact as you step over the cans of Tennents Extra and Strongbow. I did feel more at ease having Uncle Alan with me if only to laugh nervously at the benefits of witnessing the rich tapestry of human life while on the walk. You can take the girl out of safe suburbia, but can you take suburbia out of the girl?

We went past the Cutty Sark in Greenwich and then through the part of the Thames walk that demonstrates how much of a working river it still is, with factories on each bank and heaving industrial plants vibrating, gurgling and cranking as you go. With the bend of the river being so marked (think of the opening credits of Eastenders) it is really disconcerting to see some buildings over and over again from different angles. You never seem to be more than a couple of miles from the Gherkin and from the Isle of Dogs however long you've been moving. The walk around the Millenium Dome is rather desolate, stuck on the tip of a peninsula in what appears to be an abandoned wasteland. There is a huge temptation to take a short cut across the middle (fear not! I would never do such a thing) except for the fact that you would inevitably get lost. Two miles from the end I bid farewell to randonneur extraordinaire Uncle Alan as he delivered me into the care of my final companions for the last part of the journey: Dad (he of imminent hip operation fame), Bek (sister-in-law and superlative fine artist) and Sonny (adorable nephew).

.

My stirling young walking partner leads me to the end.

By now the end was in sight with the Thames Barrier looking, as my guide book puts it, like a line of giant monks crossing the by now extraordinarily wide Thames. You can tell that the sea is close here; sea gulls, a certain salty ozone and the obvious tidal nature of the river. The sky looks very big here as the flood plain is wide and flat. Just before the end of the trail there is a profile of the river Thames etched into the concrete wall showing the height of the river at the start (105 metres) and how it comes down to sea level over 180 miles. When you look at it like that, it does seem quite a long way

Look at where I started!

Through the tunnel you finally come to a sign which marks the official end to the Thames path, or the beginning if you fancied doing the whole thing in reverse. I rather like the last line of my guide book which reads: 'Here, beyond the Barrier, you have a satisfying sense that the river you have followed from its first modest trickle is opening out to its estuary, ready to greet the sea.'

The official end!

After taking lots of photos we looked around for somewhere to go for a celebratory drink. The Barrier visitor centre and cafe being closed meant that we had to go hunting in Woolwich, not generally known for its gastro pubs and in the end we stopped at the rather extraordinary St Clair's Pub. It turned out to be emminently appropriate in its exact opposition to the gorgeous Red Lion where I had my first pint of Real Ale of the trip two weeks ago. There was obviously no real ale available at the St Clair's. The staff and clientele were ethnically diverse and no one spoke with a west country accent. MTV was blaring out from one TV and sports fixtures from another and had we waited a couple of hours we would have been treated to a display from the exotic dancers. But the barman was lovely and came to shake my hand when my Dad (as Dads will) told him about my challenge. He performed a fabulous trick with a pint of lager for Sonny who was as enchanted by that as he was by the 'dancing' decorative lights and the cheese and onion crisps. All in all, a rather marvellous end to a wonderful adventure.

Celebrations at the rather salubrious St Clair pub in Woolwich

The starring plates of meat

Day 14 - Barnes Bridge to Waterloo - Thursday 10 August

2006-08-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

Distance: 11.25 miles
Time: 3 hours 51 mins
Walking partners: Gabrielle and Billie George Rowles (from Hammersmith to Vauxhall)
Accommodation: Home

My youngest walking partner to date, though 'walking' might be overstating her contribution

A slightly earlier start than anticipated due to Archie Rowles' decision to come and wake up his Auntie Dow and Uncle Bull at 6am. CBeebies is a wonderful thing.

Having dispatched said young man to go visiting with his cousin in Acton, I set off from Barnes Bridge to meet up with his mother and sister at the Riverside Studios in Hammersmith. A slightly damp morning giving atmospheric views over the river from Hammersmith Bridge. Georgie obliged us by having a good long sleep as we made our way down river to Putney, past some minor league football ground I believe. The way became much harder thereafter with lots of diversions through building sites and up busy roads in Wandsworth, Clapham and Battersea - a kerb and obstacle nightmare for most pushchairs but no match for Gabs 'guerilla mum' Rowles.

We stopped for lunch at the Thai Riverside Terrace in Battersea with a pleasing outlook onto the rich denizens of Chelsea Harbour across the river. Luckily Battersea Park provided a brief interlude of greenery before we were back in the pollution and thundering traffic noise of the north embankment leading up to Vauxhall - what a difference to a week ago.

Gabs went in search of a tube station without escalators to get home and I continued under ever darkening clouds back over Lambeth Bridge and towards one of the most famous views of London Town. On a day when an alleged terrorist conspiracy has had the country in its grip, the capital's skies seem aptly foreboding. In fact what they mainly predicted was that I was about to get doused in a short sharp shower.

A disrupted stroll through the throng of tourists around the London Eye brought me quickly to my destination of the South Bank Centre near Waterloo. I indulged myself in a cup of tea at my beloved National Film Theatre and pondered that I only have one day left of my personal walking odyssey. I actually feel really sad that it is nearly all over. What will I do with myself when I get up on Saturday and have no walking to do?

Got the tube home in reflective mood.

Day 13 - Teddington to Barnes Bridge - Wednesday 9 August

2006-08-10T10:54:00.000-07:00

Distance: 8.5 miles (technically a rest day)
Time: 2 hours 41 mins
Walking partner: none
Accommodation: Home Sweet Home

Richmond road and rail bridges and Twickenham bridge in the distance

After a very nice breakfast with the Parkers, I set off again in drizzley weather along the towpath that I know so well from my training. Being on familiar territory felt quite strange although it was satisfying to know that there would be no nasty surprises with the mileage signs as I knew exactly how long each stage would take.

This was meant to be a rest day of sorts to enable me to get home, do some washing, catch up on emails and dump the pack for the rest of the trip so there was definitely a spring in my step as a contemplated being able to wear some different clothes - what a treat!

There are nice landmarks along this stretch; Ham House, Marble Hill House, the Star & Garter up on Richmond Hill, Kew Gardens and Syon House. I also passed my last lock and the largest on the Thames at Richmond after which the Thames is tidal and looks dramatically different with large 'beach' areas and mud at certain times of day. Strand on the Green, the nearest bit of the river to my home, looked pretty and peaceful across the river as I made my way to Barnes Bridge.

I was collected by my very considerate sister-in-law Bek with nephew Sonny in tow to save my legs the mile and half walk home. Bill, who is incapable of setting foot inside a supermarket, had left the cupboard relatively bare but to be honest I was dreaming of my bed and retired for a quick snooze only to find that I had slept away for two and a half hours. Blimey, I really was tired!

My next walking partners, sister Gabs and neice Georgie arrived with Georgie's big brother for an evening of here-comes-the-train-in-the-tunnel type food coaxing (and that was just me), let's-drench-Auntie-Val baby bathtime and read-me-another-story bed avoidance tactics. I loved it!

Bill redeemed himself for the fridge fiasco by arriving home with a take-away curry for the adults and a relaxing evening of TV dinnering ensued.

Day 12 - Shepperton to Teddington - Tuesday 8 August

2006-08-09T09:20:00.000-07:00

Distance: 11 miles
Time: 3 hours 44 mins
Walking partners: Karen Smith and Fiona Parker (Two qualified nurses whose professional opinion was that several of my toes will need to be amputated. Either that or get a pedicure, I forget.)
Accommodation: Fiona's house in Teddington

My glamourous walking partners on day 12

Day 12 dawned clear and bright and we three St Andrews Alumni skipped out of bed and made breakfast in our kitchen (it was a bit of a BYO type B&B, or maybe DYO). To say that we reciprocated noise levels for the benefit of our upstairs neighbours would not be exactly true, but seeing as we all went to a catholic school I'd have to admit it's not exactly a lie...

I met Fiona and Karen when we were twelve years old (you'll see from the photo that than can only have been about 10 years ago.) Even at twelve there was a certain emphasis on, how shall we put it, personal presentation in the face of which I can only stand in awe. It was therefore no surprise to discover that Fiona's day pack contained, one large make-up bag, one hairdryer, one set of hair straighteners, two changes of clothing, two pairs of shoes and a pair of Prada sunglasses and was in fact about three kilos heavier than mine. Annoyingly they are both incredibly fit, with Karen having recently completed the 26.2 mile Moon Walk; they barely seemed to notice their loads and even offered to carry mine.

Our walk started with a free lift from Ann to the tow path as well as sponsorship for Mpora for which I am trully grateful. We then caught the small ferry (with a ferryman who, as Fiona put it, seemed to have had a charisma bypass. Personally I thought we were being incredibly witty,) to the Weybridge side of the river. It was a lovely shady walk with glimpses of riverside chalets and house-boats all the way to Walton on Thames. In fact I'm surprised I can remember anything about the scenery as we were on a marathon gossip fest for the entire journey. Before we knew it we were at Hampton Court having a coffee break and then all the way through Kingston for a lunch of tapas (which though bearing little relation to what we'd actually ordered was really quite ok) at The Boaters. The last stretch to Teddington Locks was a doddle.

Fiona lives very near the lock with her family (Mathew, Jessie and Harvey) in a lovely house and once again it was rather like experiencing a high class spa day with luxurious bath elixirs complete with adjoining gin and tonic, michelin starred cuisine courtesy of Ms Parker and a fantastic night's sleep in the bed that kindly Jessie had given up for me. Sylvia, another school friend joined us for supper and said all the right things about how fit I was looking (pfff) and not how tired I seemed (which is more accurate.)

Day 11 - Windsor to Shepperton - Monday 7 August

2006-08-09T08:41:00.000-07:00

Distance: 14.5 miles +
Time: 4 hours 56 minutes
Walking partner: Nick Healey (for the first hour and 47 mins - a stirling effort given his string of cricket-related injuries (?))
Accommodation: Littleton Nurseries B&B, Shepperton Green

Breakfasted alone and early and left to meet Nick by Windsor bridge for 9am. The rain of the night (which required a midnight flit from the top of the house down to the garden to rescue my clothes) had turned to a slight drizzle so for only the second time of the trip I was in my waterproofs and sporting an umbrella.

Nick turned up on cue and we began a very pleasant stroll from Windsor through Datchet and on towards Runnymede Common past meadows giving different views of the castle which dominates this slow and lazy bend of the river. Monday morning was quiet on the water with hardly any boats on the move compared to the carnage between Maidenhead and Windsor of yesterday. Having been on the receiving end of a few ninety-mile an hour cricket balls during his 'friendly' tour of Cornwall, Nick stepped off the trail just before Runnymede and I continued alone.

A coffee break with flapjack at the tea hut opposite Magna Carta Island was enlivened by my dawning realisation that the carpark plays host to numerous secret assignations in this part of Surrey. One besuited gent jumping out of his swish company car to fulsomely embrace a young woman in flipflops who'd just parked her bashed up Clio and then getting her to follow him by car to some other destination could be said to be a fluke. But two? Aah, romance is alive and well in Staines.

The waterside leading up to Staines is diverting with lots of pretty bungalows and chalets decked with flowers suggesting, with all due respect to Ali G and his massive, that it's a good retirement destination. When I got to Staines it was starting to rain hard again so I opted to take a couple of hours break and amused myself by touring the shopping mall, eating a prawn sandwich from Boots and taking in a quick chick flick at the multi-plex. When I emerged the rain had gone and the sun had returned.

The last leg of this trip took in Chertsey and Shepperton. By now I had been under the M4 (yesterday), the M25 and the M3 and really felt that I was getting back to town. There were fewer and fewer open fields to encounter and I was quite sad when I read in the book that I had passed my last traditional Thames watermeadow scene. But time was ticking on and I was hoping to get to the B&B by 6pm to shower and rest before my two schoolfriends Fiona and Karen joined me. Shepperton Lock area looked pleasant enough and I made a mental note to return with the girls for a drink later. Little did I know that I had booked my B&B in Shepperton alright, but in the Shepperton which is in Outer Mongolia. Having done nearly 15 miles I was aghast to realise that I still had another 2 and a half miles to walk. To say I did it, with a grimace on my face is something of an understatement. I was hot. My back was soaked in sweat. I was grimy from the road I was trudging along (it is hardly an attractive route along a bypass crossing back over the M3.)

However the welcome I received from Ann McCarthy could hardly have been warmer. As it turns out, Ann is a stalwart fund-raiser herself and has years of experience of raising cash through sponsorship for, would you believe, another orphanage in Uganda. She supports Amigos International a charity that works in sub-saharan Africa, but also directly funds an independent project in Uganda. She has already raised over £7000 and a few years ago completed a 10,000km challenge in Ethiopia and Uganda travelling around by any form of transport she could. She is a fantastic lady and I can see why local papers have named her Shepperton's super granny.

The girls and I were actually staying in a house that Ann rents out mainly as long-term B&B lets and it took us back to student/nurse house-sharing days. We ordered in pizza, drank Asti Spumanti and talked and giggled till it was time for bed. In classic house-share style the only thing to disturb our slumber was the squeak, squeak, squeak of the bed springs above as the nocturnal activities of our co-guests began. Karen was convinced they were playing Yahtzee, but then she's not the romantic type.

Day 10 - Marlow to Windsor - Sunday 6 August

2006-08-08T12:46:00.000-07:00

Distance: 14.5 miles
Time: 5 hours 25 mins
Walking Partner: Gillian Higgins (who will be walking the South Coast Way next week, climbing up and down cliffs and averaging 20 miles per day.... I am a mere amateur in her presence)
Accommodation: Barbara's B&B, Windsor (I'll avoid the obvious Eastender related jokes here..)

Today felt very long. Partly because it was so humid that we were dripping with sweat (try not to visualise that too accurately, it does not look pretty) 7 seconds after leaving the B&B but mainly because of the bane of the Thames Path walker's life... INACCURATE SIGNAGE (I know that all internet etiquette says don't use capitals because it seems like you're shouting, but I AM SHOUTING.) This poor mileage marking resulted in us believing we were vastly nearer to the end of the walk than we were and in having lunch too early - what can seem a near fatal error; it's a whole psychological mindfield you know.

My watch (specially purchased by gadget man Bill for the walk) was telling me that the temperature was 28.8 degrees c at 9.30am although I have to admit that I haven't worked out yet whether that's actually just the temperature of my wrist. Marlow to Maidenhead was a nice walk, past Bourne End and through Cookham. Maidenhead to Windsor though did leave something to be desired I must say. This was the start of the use of stony footpaths which, especially after hiking for ten days, is like have small elfins hammering with tiny pointed hammers into the soles of your feet everytime you touch the ground. And there was a strange smell of sun-heated urine (and maybe other even less desirable odours) wafting from the long grass verges - either the people of Windsor enjoy their al fresco comfort breaks or it was dog walker's haven.

On top of that, being Sunday, the whole of Berkshire seemed to have decided to cycle the towpath in the opposite direction to the way we were walking and they were evidently of the strong belief that it is in fact a Cycle path requiring little use of bells and no slowing down for any walkers who are in the way.

By the end of this long trawl we were not in a beauteous state. I was beginning to notice that when we passed by other, clean-looking people, I could detect fragrant perfumes and light and lovely laundry aromas as we shuffled past. It soon occurred to me that if I could smell them, they could, in all probability smell me and in all likelihood, I did not smell of recently washed laundry. Not a comforting thought.

Gill, bless her heart, was re-walking in her mountaineering boots complete with major league thick walking socks. She didn't moan once but I could tell from a slightly glazed look in her eye for the last 3 hours that he feet were being lacerated. All in all, there was a certain sense of manic relief when we turned into a field and the majestic sight of Windsor Castle towering over the river came into view.

Gill went off on her merry, hobbling way after a swift half in the Waterman's Arms and I went in search of my, again, long distant B&B. It was a very nice Victorian house and I had the only single room in the house which clearly in earlier eras would have been the scullery maid's room, tiny and at the top of the house. If I went in sideways I could just about carry my ruck sack in with me. Still Barbara's kindness meant I could put my clothes in her spin dryer having trampled them in the shower with my shower gel (I was determined to smell nice tomorrow!) and hang them on her line.

I went into Windsor for food and ended up having a culinary catastrophe that surpassed even my disgusting meal in Sutton Courtenay. I can't say I warmed to Windsor anyway. Loads of chain shops and restaurants that make it look the same as everywhere else even with a bloody great castle stuck in the middle of it and boy racers revving up and down the high street in the souped up Fiestas. I decided to buy a take-away and sit on a bench outside the castle to soak up the 'atmosphere'. The fact that 'Coffea' has a literacy problem should have warned me and combining two different European countries with a Spanish omelette panini was, in retrospect, bound to be plain wrong. It was the most foul concoction I have had in a very long time. Half a mouthful was all that I could manage before it went straight in the bin. In the end I bought a Muller rice pudding complete with plastic spoon from a Texaco garage and ate it in my room. I watched a programme reconstructing Scott's failed expedition to the South Pole and concluded that quite frankly he didn't have it so hard.

Day 9 - Sonning to Marlow - Saturday 5 August

2006-08-08T12:14:00.000-07:00

Distance: 14.25 miles
Time: 4 hours 47 minutes
Walking Partner: Bill (carrying my pack again for me.... handsome and useful)
Accommodation: Granny Anne's B&B (which turned out to be in the environs of Marlow as opposed to being anywhere near the Thames Path; a late and slightly painful discovery.)

Had breakfast in the bosom of my family with the usual comparisons of vivid dreams and a competition to see who had slept least (my Mum won hands down as usual. She actually hasn't had a wink of sleep in about 45 years.) Shortness of sleep or perhaps just an inevitable hangover is usually the reason for ritual humiliation of one's children I guess so this must be why my Mum saw fit to make me sit throughout the whole of the breakfast meal in the saloon bar of the pub wearing electrodes on my bare shoulders while the electric shocks made me jig about in an attention-grabbing way. To be honest that's enough explanation, I can't face reliving the whole thing but let's just say other customers were giving me a wide berth.

Having been dropped off at our starting point it was clear that today was going to be a warmer day than I was used to. But the typical Thames waterside meadows and tree lined tow path gave us lots of shade initially and preparations for the Shiplake regatta provided regular diversion. Bill was in seventh heaven when we came across a riverside residence with it's own miniature railway line complete with scaled down station and platform, going round the large garden ('Look! It's even got points!' was heard to be uttered with undisguised glee. I'll leave you to imagine which one of us was thus thrilled.)

We stopped at Henley for coffee and surveyed the growing crowds enjoying the pleasure gardens. Boats stacking up at the locks to go to the regatta, joggers, tourists, sunbathers, picnickers, a ship full of stags singing tunelessly - a complete contrast to a week ago and 100 miles upriver.

We stopped for lunch at The Flower Pot at Aston and I ate a huge plate of sardines and a half pint of prawns. Plied with such delights I was thus fortified for my next mission at Memenham (try saying that with a mouth full of fishbones) which was to earn my extra sponsorship by taking a dip! (Photographic evidence will be provided.) I have to say that having negotiated the muddy bank and the foot-tenderising stones, it was a very agreeable experience. Really cooling on what was by now a hot and humid day. Bill came in as well and we sunbathed ourselves dry before moving onto Hurley and then Marlow.

The long hike up to the B&B was rewarded by a warm welcome from Roger Taylor (no, not that Roger Taylor) and his wife Anne. Having seen me to my door, Bill taxied back to Sonning to get his car and I awaited the arrival of Gill my next partner in crime for the Thames Walk Challenge. We dined in the perfectly adequate Cafe Uno (Marlow did seem to be chain-restaurant-city, mind you isn't everywhere?) and retired for an early night chez Granny Anne on a still and balmy night.

Day 8 - Pangbourne to Sonning - Friday 4 August

2006-08-08T11:51:00.000-07:00

Distance: 10 miles
Time: 3 hours 25 minutes (yes, a rather slow day)
Walking partners: Dad and Uncle Alan (for, oooh, about a mile and a half.... these part-timers)
Accommodation: The Crown Inn, Playhatch

Knowing that I had a shortish day with a long gap in the middle meant that I had a leisurely breakfast alone in the soft toy and decorative plate sanctuary that was the Ferryboat Inn and then set off at 9ish. My first equipment failure (unless you count the disaster of the first backpack) was a snapped shoe lace. Aaah! practical repairs required! Fortunately it turned out to be not too technical even for me.

The way was pretty easy towards to Reading, though not the most picturesque of the journey. Some open fields to start then a diversion away from the river through a seemingly displaced Purley. Some pleasing texts from Sally and Brian and Jono again as I walked along.

I arrived at the less than beautiful metropolis of Reading to discover that the designated meeting place for finding my folks no longer existed so I went in search of an alternative landmark and due to my inept instructions ensured that Mum, Dad and Uncle Alan missed their lunch and nearly got a parking ticket in the process of waiting for me while I was dawdling around WH Smiths. Children are sooo ungrateful.

Dad and Uncle Alan joined me for the last stretch to Sonning which though a beautiful spot, was the location of the pub where I have been served the worst pint to date. I'd steer clear of the Great House Hotel if I were you - the fact that parking there is nigh on impossible will probably ensure that it will never have your custom anyway. (Never ask my Dad to remember a code to unlock the gate across a carpark for future reference.)

Fortunately our inn for the night at Playhatch, (my only luxury accommodation of the trip - excluding the 5 star treatment I had at Jo's and subsequently at Fiona's) was absolutely gorgeous though not without some trial and tribulation for me. Keen to take advantage of the fabulous-looking ensuite for my ablutions I jumped in the shower only to discover that no hot water was to be had. Having rung reception who sent a man over to establish that I wasn't just a customer who can't distinguish between the hot and cold tap, the only option was to gather up my belongings now spread over the entire space and to move rooms. Clearly the sensible thing was to do this while only wearing a small hand towel, especially as it involved going outside. It was equally sensible to lock the room keys inside the room while I was outside the room, obviously. Bill, who had joined us a the pub, wearily went back to reception to explain....

Superb meal at the Crown. I highly recommend it.

Day 7 - Goring to Pangbourne - Thursday 3 August

2006-08-04T05:49:00.000-07:00

Distance: 4 miles
Time: 1 hour 29 mins
Walking partner: None
Accommodation: The Ferryboat Inn, Whitchurch on Thames

Today was effectively a day off as I wasn't sure how I would be feeling after yesterday's herculean (by my standards) efforts. I had loads of time to kill in the morning so I went to Goring library ( a slice of Berkshire village life there I can tell you. The lady librarians would be very kind and helpful to everyone who came in and then launch into a character assasination of each library user as soon as they left - God knows what they said about me especially as one of their computer's crashed while I was using it) to use the internet.

Then I was walking again. Good thing I'd planned such a short stroll as for really the first time ever I had to go uphill. The Thames cuts through the Chilterns at Goring Gap and where the tow path runs out you have to climb (and I use that term advisedly) up the escarpment to get around the chalk cliffs. A mere nothing I'm sure if you are not carrying 7kgs (I've bought some bits and pieces en route) on your back.

Should that first 'G' be a 'B'?

I arrived at my night's accommodation just across the toll bridge at Pangbourne just after lunch and profited from a good old siesta and some daytime TV - fabulous. The Ferryboat Inn is a fairly eccentric pub inside with as many stuffed animals and soft toys on every surface as I think I have ever witnessed. Some of the trinkets in my room have to be seen to be believed (photos to come later).

A quick stroll around Pangbourne including a brief interlude in the organic supermarket where I haemorraged most of my cash as one tends to do in this sort of establishment (but I needed some dragonfly lipsalve, nettle and manure emolient and tonic of frogskin desperately....).

My brother Dom called by on the way back from work to take me out for a drink and meal at the Swan Hotel in Pangbourne. Sitting outside facing the weir and watching the sun go down replete with good food (it's a much better pub than it looks) - all very pleasant indeed.

Day 6 - Culham to Goring - Wednesday 2 August

2006-08-03T03:41:00.000-07:00

Distance: 18.5 miles
Time: 5 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds
Walking partner: Colly Myers (Zimbabwean uber-fit marathon and triathlon man, bush-hunter gatherer extraordinaire and founder of formerly mentioned AQA)
Accommodation: Streatley Youth Hostel

Colly having made the supreme sacrifice of rising at 6am and training it out to deepest Oxfordshire, I did not linger over breakfast and we set off at a cracking pace on the longest walking day by 8.15am. It's hard to slow down a man who generally walks or runs 120 miles a week, but Colly gallantly endeavoured to go at what must have been snail's pace for him. These born and bred Africans know the meaning of living in the wild. The comparatively manicured environs of the Thames trail may not be the jungle exactly, but Colly did battle with a massive and entangled tree fallen across a bridge on our path nearly losing his prescription sunglasses to the bottom of the river mud in the process. And I never knew how much free food there is around! Colly picked at least three different types of plum, apples, berries and more. I shan't be bothering to go to the supermarket ever again.

A coffee break at Shillingford Bridge Hotel was followed by an indifferent pub lunch at The Boathouse in Wallingford which seemed to be obsessed with issuing written instructions or rhetorical statements to its clientele. "The management requires customers to wear shirts in the bar", "Only a driving licence [sic] or passport are acceptable forms of identity"; "Parents are reponsible for their children", "You may be shirt-free on the terrace", "Leave our premises quietly" - all reasonable stuff I suppose except that there were about 25 notices plastered over every surface. Mind you, this is a pub that serves a shot called 'urine sample' so perhaps no more needs to be explained.

In future, the Beetle and Wedge at Moulsford looks a good location for a long, langourous lunch but Colly and I headed instead for the Swan Hotel at the end of our walk and a cream tea. Hugely satisfying to know that all necessary calories required had already been burnt off.

I haven't stayed in a YHA for about 28 years I think so I didn't know quite what to expect but it was all very nice and friendly, if not quite the Sheraton. I was in a dorm, fortunately just with one other lady. There was a lounge and a dining room and my dinner of jacket potatoes only cost £2.50. I washed my clothes by hand and hung them up in the drying room, which I think should be renamed the doesn't-dry-but-leaves-your-clothes-damp-and-musty-room.

But the main pleasure of the evening was meeting the charming Vogrig family from near Auxerre in France (think Chablis, Pouilly Fuisse etc). Sylvie and Bruno are in the UK on holiday with their delightful kids Mickael, Helena and Estelle. They have found British people to be courteous and helpful (and yes, they have been to London) and they seem to be having a lovely time. Mickael (14) and Helena (12 and a half) are really keen to find penfriends/exchange partners in the UK to practice their already promising English. They are super kids so if anyone has offspring who might be interested, let me know.

Not wishing to wake up my room mate when I went to bed I deliberately didn't turn on the light. This resulted in me cracking my nose on the upper bunk and bruising my back on the steps. What with that and the appearance of a liver spot on my cheek due to overexposure to wind and sun I'm not sure what I will look like at the end of this adventure. It's a good thing that it's all in aid of a decent cause....

Day 5 - Oxford to Culham - Tuesday 1 August

2006-08-03T03:13:00.000-07:00

Distance: 12 miles
Time: 4 hours 9 mins
Walking partner: None
Accommodation: Appletree Cottage B&B, Sutton Courtney

Half a bottle of Rioja the night before not withstanding, I set off from Osney Bridge in Oxford by 9.15am. The view of the city from the river gives you a different experience of Oxford. Greener, quieter and with the glimpses of dreaming spires and nice-looking pubs - lovely.

There are several locks along this stretch including a very pretty one at Iffley (these lock keepers seem to be prolific gardeners) but there was also a more urban feel to the river than previously with graffittied road bridges and fairly constant traffic noise from nearby roads.

Then I was back in the pastures with the cows and the yellow wheat fields looking ripe for harvest (yes, I've become a complete agricultural expert now).

There was a bit of a long haul to Radley and then onto Abingdon but I amused myself with playing tag with passing barges and pleasure craft. One boat in particular, improbably named 'Bimbi', that I'd been seeing for 2 days, got into the spirit of the game with the crew cheering uproariously everytime they passed me by and yours truly giving a smug smile as I skipped across the lock in front of them. It's the small things that keep you going.

Dark clouds loomed over when I reached Abingdon which gave me all the excuse I needed for a coffee and cake stop then the last few miles to Culham were enlivened by encouraging calls and texts. (Thanks Louise and Jono.)

A nice and restful evening ensued although I did have a dining disaster at The Swan Inn in Sutton Courtney where I made the mistake of ordering something vegetarian (clearly a rare occurrence at the Swan). Vegetable gratin turned out to be a bowl of warm cream containing one or two mange-touts and a couple of pieces of carrot. Cholesterol death on a plate. I managed about 2 mouthfuls before an intense feeling of liver malfunction came over me (and this from the woman who will gladly munch through a plate of fois gras.) Not exactly the carbo-loading opportunity I was looking for.

Day 4 - Newbridge to Oxford - Monday 31 July

2006-07-31T10:47:00.000-07:00

Distance: 14 miles
Time: 4 hours 58 mins
Walking partner: none
Accommodation: Jo's gorgeous thatched cottage

Quite a strange night. The room was really stuffy so I had the windows open and I had just drifted off when I heard that tell-tale zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz -ing that sounds alarm bells when you're near a river. Sure enough I had to splat a whopping great mozzie and then sleep in a cauldron of a room with the windows shut. That plus texts through the night that my network had inexplicably delayed in sending me (sorry Karen that it took me so long to get back to you) and decided to do so at one hour intervals till about 4.30 when I could no longer sleep.

Anyway, enough of these domestic details which can be of no interest to anyone except myself. My first day of walking on my own was absolutely fine. No axe-wielding maniacs (well none who could catch me at my blistering pace of 2.5 miles per hour; yes, I've slowed down), no wild rampaging animals (though I did see a snake believe it or not); no stultifying boredom (actually, I did find the first hour a bit tedious until I discovered the great diversion of talking to myself. Maybe that's what kept the maniacs and the wild animals at bay?).

Monet-esque: Hart's Weir Footbridge linking two remote meadows

The weather was great for walking, cool and pleasant, that is until Godstow Lock when it began to bucket down, mere nano-seconds before I began to regret consigning my waterproof trousers to the 'spare' pile to go home with Bill. However, judicious use of the umbrella (most definitely not 'spare') meant that I was merely damp rather than soaked. The views were as lovely as ever. Meadows filled with wildflowers and iridescent blue dragonflies - I thought it was beautiful and I'm not even a nature lover.

I arrived in good time at Oxford Railway station and was met by my charming hostess for the evening Jo who has transported me to her delightful home, run me a bath filled with essential oils and epsom salts, washed my clothes and is as we speak preparing me a meal the tantalising aromas of which are wafting up the stairs. All of which sets me in good stead for tomorrow and the next few days.

Day 3 - Lechlade to Newbridge - Sunday 30 July

2006-07-31T10:21:00.000-07:00

Distance: 16.25 miles
Time: 5 hours 56 mins
Walking partner: Bill Batchelor (eccentric computer programmer and co-founder of AQA, the best question answering service you're ever likely to need. Oh, and I live with him too, thereby benefitting indirectly from any company profits; but it is really good!)
Accommodation: The Rose Revived, Newbridge

The second longest day of the whole challenge so an early night after a wholesome supper at The Trout Inn at St John's Lock was in order. Imagine our delight when we realised that the wedding party that we'd seen earlier chomping through their wedding breakfast in the Hotel dining room were gearing up to hit the disco floor in the hall next to our bedroom. Fortunately for us, late licences must be hard to come by in Gloucestershire and everything shut down at 11pm leaving us plenty of time for shut-eye before an early breakfast and slightly off schedule departure at 8.20am.

Sunday dawned as a perfect day for walking. A slight mist hanging over the by now navigable Thames. The grass underfoot springy with dew. A cooling breeze but a promise of lots of sunshine ahead. The most perfect aspect of the day for me was that Bill was carrying my back pack leaving me with a small plastic bag filled with our emergency snacks. The fact that he was in agony after about 10 minutes didn't dampen my enthusiasm as much as you might think. But a serious discussion ensued about the logistics of getting me a different back pack later in the week.

Since Lechlade the river has become more populated. Barges and pleasure cruisers as well as camping and caravan sites though not many people were about early on a Sunday morning. We were rather more pleased than is socially acceptable to note that even with our slow pace (about 2.7 miles per hour if you must know) we were still beating boats that had started out at the same time as us because the Thames Locks also start at Lechlade and they seem to take an age to operate. Competitive nous?

We stopped for coffee at Radcot Bridge at The Swan which looked nice but would probably get very crowded, and fortuitously rang ahead to book a table for lunch nabbing the last table in the process. Lunch came after 10 pleasant miles amid the meadows and meandering river at the rather fabulous Trout Inn (again) this time at Tadpole Bridge and it was certainly a gastronomic reward for our endeavours although drinking at lunchtime is not to be repeated on this challenge I fear. We ended up falling asleep in the pub garden and then had to contend with the remaining 6 miles in a state of dehydration which does not improve an already slackening pace.

We eventually made it to the Rose Revived (which sounds a lot more romantic than it is) where Bill departed (with quite a lot of items from my pack which we deemed 'spare'... including my waterproof trousers) and I repaired to the pub for my evening meal (the only solo eater amidst a bevy of holidaying families). I could say lots here..... And then to my room which turned out to be above the loud speaker playing the pub's piped music (James Blunt anyone?) Retired hoping that closing time was 11pm in the country.

Lots of encouraging phonecalls and texts from people - thanks Sally, Trish, Dad, Gabs, Dom, Bill, Jacqui A, Julie, Susan and others. It really keeps me going.

Day Two - Cricklade to Lechlade - Saturday 29 July

2006-07-31T10:05:00.000-07:00

Distance: 10.75 miles
Time: 4 hours 22 minutes
Walking partner: Trish Lorenz (still drinking lager despite being in a real ale wonderland and my best efforts to re-educate her palate)
Accommodation: The New Inn Hotel, Lechlade

After the slightly weird experience of having breakfast a deux in the cavernous empty Old Bear pub which had been throbbing with dart-throwing and burger-making till the wee hours the previous night, the walking duo set off. The pace was definitely slower today; permanent indentations in my shoulders and lower back were not conducive to a brisk stride out. Imagine our disappointment when the nice looking pub at Castle Eaton was not yet open for coffee. Saw more walkers going the other way today including a crochety mother and son pair (she seemed annoyed that the trail was not making it easy to cycle her brompton small wheeled bicycle along and clearly wanted someone to blame - either the council, the farmer, or most likely her son).

Most of the walk was a charming and varied as the previous day but there was one horrible bit along the busy A361 for about a mile - the combination of fast cars and lorries, narrow-to-non-existent verges and minimal visibility could have a definite impact on life expectancy.

Trish, who turns out to be rather poetic and spiritual on the sly, suggested we make a diversion to a 12th century church in Inglesham and I have to admit it was gorgeous. Something you'd never notice if you were not on foot enjoying the countryside.

Got to nice, though touristy, Lechlade in time for afternoon tea. Waved goodbye to the wonderful Trish and awaited arrival of my next walking partner, that legendary rough diamond, Bill Batchelor.

Day One - Home to Source to Cricklade - Friday 28th July

2006-07-31T09:51:00.000-07:00

Distance: 13 miles (probably more given the number of times we managed to get lost... believe me it's harder to follow a stream than you'd think.)
Time: 5 hours 15 minutes
Walking partner: Trish Lorenz (hardy Aussie used to the great wild outback but struggles with left and right apparently....)
Accommodation: The Old Bear Inn, Cricklade

Just getting to the source of the Thames was a logistical challenge. Eventually we left Trish's sturdy Clio in a carpark in Lechlade and caught a cab, (driven by someone who might have been Jeremy Clarkson's brother once he'd expounded his many and various opinions to us), to the nearest road to the source of the Thames. We then had to tramp across a by now steaming field (it was getting on for 11am on a hot old day) to eventually find a pile of rocks and a dedication plaque telling us that this was the start of the Thames though you wouldn't know it. We didn't actually see H20 until a good hour into the walk when this slight trickle in a ditch announced itself as the first sign of the Thames.

Where's the water?

Main issues to report:
Back pack a nightmare, even with only 6kgs. OK, I'm probably a wimp but my back had gone into spasm by the time we reached Cricklade.
Multiple encounters with animals of several species including large cows and very large bulls. Trish seemed to want to befriend every living one of them.
Swimming not that appetising as muddy, shallow and leachy all the way.... so no bonus sponsorship earned yet!
The upper reaches of the Thames are a pure delight. Shady sylvan corridors, exquisite villages, verdent meadows. Highly recommended.

And now for the serious preparation

2006-07-26T08:07:00.000-07:00

Feeling a little daunted by the prospect of this, by my standards gargantuan task, (the serious walkers among you probably see this as residing in the Sunday afternoon stroll category of perambulation), I decided that there was no better thing for me to do than indulge in a small spot of retail therapy. The results of my afternoon of madness are laid before you.

fig. a) - General day attire (note attractive and inconspicuous mobile phone holder for receipt of encouraging phonecalls).

fig. b) Wet weather gear (additionally this outfit is for wearing when having my dinner in the pub due to day attire being hung out to dry over B&B wash basin.)

Seeing as I can barely lift more than a tin of baked beans without being overcome by fatigue I have decided to restrict myself to a 25 litre ruck sack. (Some people's make-up bags are heavier than this, naming no names.) I have subsequently spent the morning funnelling conditioner, shampoo, shower gel and peppermint foot lotion into impossibly small cannisters which are destined to leak all over my one allowed reading material, but at least they won't be heavy, although how fragrant I will be able to stay for the duration of the trip remains to be seen. I did think about packing a reasonably-sized rotisserie and cordless sauce-maker in case I don't like the Thames side menu options (what if my only choice is a Harvester?), but on balance this seems unwise.

My next dilemma is music. What songs should I load onto my MP3 player to help the miles pass more quickly? I can't listen to the Archers all day long so suggestions welcome!

40 hours to go....

2006-07-26T07:32:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to remember the exact moment when I decided that walking the length of the Thames Path in the heat of the summer was a good idea. I can only imagine that I was sitting in a highly air-conditioned office and was feeling slightly chilly or that I had consumed a glass of chablis too far and my sense of temperature had been obliterated. I was trying on my 'outfit' earlier in the garden (see later) and within 30 seconds I had built up a rather unpleasant sweat, without actually moving.

To say that my motivation levels are dwindling is something of an understatement. In fact if it wasn't for the fantastically enthusiastic levels of support and cheery good will that I've been given by so many of you I might be distinctly tempted to turn off the snooze button on Friday morning and keep my eyes shut until the whole big scary idea of walking the Thames had gone away. However, as I say, people have been brilliant with offers of accompaniment and most importantly sponsorship - the total of which is starting to creep up to rather a magnificent level thanks to your good heartedness and generosity.

My most recent sponsors are:

Mike and Caroline Humphreys
Rob and Emma Knight
Claire Davy Galix
Sarah Baldwin
Mark Benson
Jacqui Stuart at The Bay Hotel
Siobhan Dawson
Dee Fitzgerald
Mary Tilbrook
Shelley Partridge
Nick Shotton at Finn Forest Moelven Timber Sales
Sylvia Loggia
Gabrielle Rowles
Steve Hillier

As ever, lots of you have kept up the motivational patter or simply given me some thought through sartorial advice....

Do you know that some guy's currently swimming the length of the Thames? He's aiming to swim 11 miles a day, increasing to 20 in the tidal stretches and complete the 203-mile swim in 15 days. If it makes you feel any better, he had to run the first 19 miles yesterday (the hottest day this year, so far) cos there was no water in the damn river! Scheduling a port of call with Tony Blair, Downing Street advised his support team "... no swimming costumes, though shorts are all right". I suspect that in your case, and given Tony's dubious fashion sense, socks with sandals will be spot on! Anyway, look before you leap in to cool off.

Thought would drop a quick note to congratulate on your initiative. If you are finding so hard with your super fitness dread to think what rest of us would find. All best of luck with the walk. You'll be super fit by the end!

What a wonderful idea! Would come with you if I wasn't already occupied!! Hi Val - what a wonderful idea! Would come with you if I wasn't already occupied!!

By the way, the pledge will be reduced by £5 for every day that you wear your sandals and socks, which means on the 5th day of wearing sandals and socks you will owe me etc! Compeed is a wonderful invention, so no blister excuses will be accepted! However, if you wear shorts, pop socks and sandals and I get photographic evidence, then I will drop the £5 a day forfeit...

Good luck and watch out for blisters!

More splendid sponsors

2006-07-10T03:55:00.000-07:00

Having spent some time this weekend checking my emails I am overwhelmed with the generosity of more lovely friends who have made offers of sponsorship, beds, food, foot massages and walking partnerships. Many, many thanks to all of you. The above rather charming resident of the Mpora Rural Family Home that our friend Rob English met when he visited last January will be particularly grateful to:

Pete Terribili
Tom and Gaenor Withyman
Alison, Andy and Minna Munro/Molloy
Dom Rowles and Bek Vincent
Paul James
Trish Lorenz
Ruth Cohen
Caroline and Murray Kohn
Jonathan Morris
Kira Kernan
Karen Smith
Andrew Pryde
Jo O'Connor and Jaimie Payne
Elizabeth Rouse
Rachel, Alain and Megan McInnes
Dagmar Burnett Godfree
Nick Healey
Terri Jones
Susan Orr
Alison Edwards

for their financial contribution. I'll let you know how much I raised in total when I've finished my sums.

Thanks also for the messages of support (?):

Is this your new job?

Nice Hat!

Go Val! This is a stunning effort (only an attention-seeker would consider it necessary to do the John O’ Groats thing). Your charity is amazing, and it is great to know that all the money is actually going to help the kids.

You go, girl. Make sure you wear that hat!!!

Go girl go! What a fantastic thing to do! BTW I took a look at your blog - fab - re sandals & socks - you'd best ask our style guru Nick about that :-)

I think what you're doing is amazing and tremendous. (And your choice of how to do it puts a one-day walk around Paris into perspective.) Count me in and I'll also sponsor you for every time you jump into the Thames. (I'm sure you won't abuse this offer, though I quite like the thought of someone spending an afternoon hurling themself repeatedly into a river.)

Hope all goes well for your walk. What a great idea for a great cause.

Very proud of you young lady - bet those calf muscles are getting in to shape!

I’ll be in France during your pedathlon but I wish you bonne chance!

..pubs along the way... now I get it!

If you walk past Deptford drop in for a cup off tea, assuming you can clamber past the shopping trolley’s and used syringes by Deptford Creek. Richmond it isn’t.

More news anon...

Strolling in the Surrey Hills

2006-07-08T14:51:00.000-07:00

I went on a really delightful training walk today with the Time Out Saturday Walkers club. It started at Milford station and ended about 6 and a half hours later in Haslemere. I think it was about 10 miles or so but we did have to climb the Devil's Punch Bowl (it's Surrey HILLS remember) and we might have spent some time in the Three Horseshoes Pub (churlish not to, some people were tired....) - ok, yes, we were pretty slow. But I met some interesting people and learnt some essential general knowledge; ie: 'Thursday' comes from Thor's day (he of Norse God fame, his Dad being Woden... hence Wednesday) Am I the only person who didn't know that? And, that if you turn off your video player at the mains every night (crucial for saving the planet it seems) you won't have to re-programme the date and clock every time you switch it back on. And some unprintable stuff about Tom Cruise from an actor who knows him. Can you believe what a wide range of topics can be touched on while trudging the Greens Sands Way? Most importantly, I didn't ache at all for the whole walk... is this progress?

Sandals with socks?

2006-07-08T13:26:00.000-07:00

This is my current dilemma. Just how bad would it be to sometimes, and only on very hot days, and only when I'm deep, deep in rural England, wear sandals with socks? This is a tricky decision. My walking shoes are a wonderful thing. Fully worn-in and sturdy enough to get me through any uneven surface or vertiginous cliff face that a stroll along the Thames is likely to throw up. But it is hardly the Himalayas, let's face it and in July it is hot, hot, hot. In the end this could be an olifactory decision rather than a sartorial or social one. But..... what is my standing likely to be on the Thames Walk Challenge if I am spotted wearing sandals and socks? Am I likely to be omitted from the usual 'ow do?' ritual from passing ramblers? (actually we are talking about Berkshire, so scotch that). Will I be completely ostracised by fellow pub lunch goers and forced to eat my egg sandwiches in splendid exile beyond the beer garden boundary? Will I be turned away from each B&B as inexplicably the 'vacancies' sign is rapidly turned around?

One of my walking partners has already made it perfectly clear that he will take the next train home if he catches a glimpse of a sandal and sock combination on my person. So I guess the message is clear. But really, how bad can it be? Your reflections, as ever, are most welcome....

Super Sponsors

2006-07-04T04:30:00.000-07:00

I have been really touched by the generosity of people sponsoring me to do this challenge. Thank you so much for pledging sponsorship! The idea that I am bringing in funds for the Mpora Rural Family Home will definitely help to keep me going. So,

John and Elspeth Yates
Bill Batchelor
Alison Davies
Margaret Ford
Odile Lavaillotte
Stephanie Waggoner
Sally Robertson
Caroline Calder Smith
Claire Scudder
Rebecca Engels
Diana Shamash
Andrew Humphrey
Julie Osborne
Yvonne Halloran
Jacqui Adams

I shall be thinking of you all!

Of course, anyone else who would like to sponsor me is MOST WELCOME to do so. I shall be bugging you with a direct email soon anyway but get in touch if you're feeling dead keen. I haven't been able to set up a Just Giving website (which allows you to contribute online) unfortunately as the Mpora Rural Family Home is an overseas NGO not a registered charity in the UK but internet banking transfers are possible and a good old cheque is fine too.

See the earlier posts to learn more about what a difference it will make to the Mpora Rural Family Home.

186 miles....

2006-07-04T03:53:00.001-07:00

Having just had a few days off my walking training (and therefore not feeling the usual aches and pains) and then reading about a charity walk that an AQA researcher is doing from John O'Groats to Lands End, I briefly wondered if 186 miles is all that far. But with the temperature soaring to 32 degrees c in London and my inability yesterday to complete a gentle jog around Chiswick Park without stopping 15 times for water breaks, I am completely satisfied that 186 miles is quite far enough to give me a challenge.

I've made a plan for my trip which starts at the Thames Head in the Cotswolds and finishes at the Thames Barrier two weeks later. So far I'm not planning any non-walking days (is that a mistake I wonder?) but I have scheduled in a couple of really low mileage days in case I'm exhausted or fed up. I start at the end of July and the schedule is as follows:

Source to Cricklade 12.25 miles
Cricklade to Lechlade 10.75 miles
Lechlade to Newbridge 16.25 miles
Newbridge to Oxford 14 miles
Oxford to Culham 12 miles
Culham to Streatley 18.25 miles (big scary day!)
Streatley to Pangbourne 4.25 miles (rest day - I'll need it)
Pangbourne to Sonning 10.5 miles
Sonning to Marlow 14.25 miles
Marlow to Windsor 14. 25 miles
Windsor to Shepperton 13.75 miles
Shepperton to Teddington 11 miles
Teddington to Strand on the Green 7.5 miles
Strand on the Green to Waterloo 14 miles
Waterloo to Thames Barrier 13 miles

Happily some long suffering friends have agreed to accompany me for some days to boost my will power and maybe also to check that I'm really doing it! Special thanks to Trish, Bill, Gill, Karen and Gabs & Georgie (at 9 months of age, showing signs of amazing precociousness I think you'll agree.) Mum, Dad and Uncle Alan are joining me at a couple of pubs.... it is unclear at this stage whether they'll be doing any more actually rambling than just from the beer garden to the bar but we'll see. Colly is making the supreme personal sacrifice of doing the longest day with me.... it's not so much that he'll find it tricky with 9 marathons and 3 triathlons behind him, but imagine the constant moaning and whining that he'll have to put up with from me with blisters on my blisters and a strong sensation that I've got no cartilage left.

I shall mainly be staying in B&Bs and pubs along the way until I get near home, but special thanks to Jo who is offering me a bed for the night in Oxford.

I've got 30 miles to do this week and so far have only managed a rather pitiful 3.8 so tomorrow I'm planning to do one of the Time Out Walking Club mid week walks and on Saturday I hope to catch up with them again in Surrey walking from Milford to Haslemere. If I squeeze in a quick hike before the WC Final on Sunday I should just about have managed it.

I'm not sure how many internet cafes exist along the Thames Path so who knows how much blogging I'll get to do when I'm on the challenge. But I promise to take pictures to prove that I was really there. Perhaps a close up of the state of my feet?

Beath's Story

2006-06-30T12:19:00.000-07:00

The day I arrived at the Mpora Rural Family Home, I met this lovely child, Beath Kurungi, whose photograph is above. She was 7 years old and had been deaf and mute since the age of 14 months following an illness. She lived with her aunt's family having lost her father in 1999 and as her mother was gravely ill her future prospects were looking pretty bleak. Her aunt had walked her down to the MRFH compound in her best dress from their village high up in the Ruwenzori Mountains as they had heard of Morence and his generosity.

The family had found a special needs school (harder to find in Uganda than in Europe I'd say) prepared to take her on and work with her to develop skills that would help her function in society and eventually earn a living. But the £60 needed for a year's tuition, a mattress and a school uniform was absolutely beyond them. My Western guilt at this point was pretty crushing as you can imagine. More than a few Londoners spend more than this on a Saturday night out.

Beath had the most winning smile and I was reliably informed liked to play netball and look after babies. On this occasion, Morence was in a position to help. But there are more children like her looking for a better future.

More about the Mpora Rural Family

2006-06-30T11:37:00.000-07:00

Having completed a very pleasant stroll through Kew Gardens this morning, narrowly avoiding coffee and cake but burning a sizeable hole in my wallet to pay £3.25 for what was basically a tuna sandwich (oh well, I guess I'm keeping them in compost) I now find myself back in front of my laptop.

The reason that I am putting myself through the potential torture of ongoing podiatry hell is in aid of the Mpora Rural Family Home situated in Western Uganda near the frontier town of Fort Portal. I visited this great project last year and was blown away by the vision of its founder, Morence Mpora and the aspirations and hard-working attitude of the children and young people who benefit from the project.

The project supports orphans and needy children in the area. Some of the kids are alone because their parents have died of AIDS or have been victims of rebel fighting. Others belong to families where illness, usually accompanied by abject poverty, means that without the help of the Mpora Rural Family Home there would be no hope of education, sustenance and a chance to make a better life.

The Mpora Rural Family Home, which was set up by Morence Mpora in the 1980's, offers a home to upwards of 40 children at any one time. It also supports other children in the community by paying or subsidising school fees. The Home has a small farm with cattle and crops for subsistence, dorms and a dining room for the kids, a library for use by everyone in the local community and lots of space for playing football and running around after chores are finished. It also has two 'banda' huts which are part of the eco-tourism initiative that I have been trying to support. (See later).

The Home receives no government funding and is dependent on donations to function. Once you've been there, and been trully humbled by the drive, commitment and belief in the face of adversity of Morence, his family and the children themselves, it is practically impossible to stop yourself getting involved and so there are travellers all over Europe, the world even, who have gone back home and tried to think of ways to help.

My sister first went to the Home over ten years ago and made sure that she got our family and friends interested in this worthy project. Gabs has done lots of fundraising drives over the years and set up a bank account in the UK that people can pay into on a regular basis as a contribution to the school fees needed by many of the children. About £60 will pay for annual school fees. £100 helps pay for uniforms, mattresses and bedding (lots of the schools are a long way off and students have to board) as well as fees.

My sister's friends Tim and Rob English have been very supportive of the project. Both have been out to visit and Rob had a bit of a coup this year when he successfully bid to a UK trust fund to provide some funding for school fees on, what we hope, will be a five year basis.

If you would like to contribute, your donation would be MORE than welcome! Email me at [firstnamelastname]@yahoo.co.uk to know more.

In training at Wivenhoe in Essex, with a big hat

2006-06-30T02:18:00.000-07:00

My first posting on the Mpora Thames Walk Challenge Blog

2006-06-30T01:47:00.000-07:00

Last night at a Tupperware Party (don't laugh, it's cool again!), the only Tupperware man in Central London, Andrew Humphrey, suggested that I start a web log about my training for and achievement (hopefully) of my Thames Walk Challenge next month. I don't normally keep a diary so this might be an additional challenge but hey, I'll give anything a go once.

So this is posting number one.

What is the Mpora Thames Walk Challenge?
Well, it is my attempt to fund raise for a very deserving non-governmental organisation in Uganda called the Mpora Rural Family Home. On the 28th July 2006 I will start walking from the source of the Thames in the Cotswolds and will continue to follow the Thames right to the end of the path at the Thames Barrier. It'll be about 186 miles. Before you get too impressed by this extreme challenge, I should point out that I will stop walking overnight and that the whole attempt should last two weeks.

For lots of people this is probably hardly a challenge at all, but I'm not an experienced long distance walker and as my recent training has made painfully clear, walking is MUCH HARDER than you'd think. So far I'm finding that any walks over about 10 or 11 miles start to really take their toll (aching shoulders, hips, back... don't even talk about the state of my feet, I'm convinced I'm about to lose a toe nail). The longest walk on the trail is 18.25 miles - luckily a few days in, but still rather an awe-inspiring target on the horizon.

I'll sign off now as I need to go and do another training walk. Luckily only a couple of hours today as it is looking like the beginning of a hot day. I think I'll walk to Kew Gardens and who knows, maybe have a sneaky capuccino and carrot cake. Now is that why I haven't managed to lose any weight I wonder?

Valerie