Dirty Old River

On Friday, we did the fourth of our lost river walks, this time the small but perfectly formed Walbrook. Settled by the Romans and built over by successions of Londoners, it was/is less than 2 miles long, which made a post-work saunter in the sunshine from Shoreditch to the Thames very appealing. Once again, we walked through certain half-deserted streets, flowing with after work drinkers and late commuters, past the sites of old theatres, water fountains, through the Broadgate centre, where we got told off by a security guard for taking photos because this isn't a public thoroughfare, it's private property, so unless you're here to consume - fuck off, under Soane's classical Tivoli Corner with its sky view (and CCTV), past a memorial to the removed dead, the Temple of Mithras (now hidden behind Crossrail purdah), Dick Whittington's old house, down to the Thames, where there's an outfall pipe discharging the Walbrook into the Thames and where, if you edge past the group of drinkers on the steps, you can go down onto the shore, past the odorous rubbish barges, over the stones, under the cathedral of Cannon Street Bridge, and go mudlarking.

Put The Book Back On The Shelf #5

Finally finished Underground London, which took me longer than anticipated, probably because it's a non-fiction book so there're FACTS instead of narrative. I like a good fact, but it doesn't make me turn pages:- I don't need to read on to find out what's going to happen next, I know what's going to happen next: he's going to go down a sewer or into a bunker. Anyway, review here.

Next up is The Road Home by Rose Tremain. I got this novel from my mother who takes part in World Book Night every year. It's also the first book I've read this year by a female writer, despite signing up to and receiving bookmarks for Read Women 2014. Bad feminist. No gender-equal cookie.