Spitalfields Life

Tickets are available for my tour of Whitechapel this Sunday and for Spitalfields on Saturday 12th September. Click here to book for The Gentle Author’s Tours

They say it is the oldest road in Britain, maybe the oldest in Europe. Starting from the highest navigable point of the Thames in prehistoric times, the Ridgeway follows the hilltops to arrive at Salisbury Plain where once wild cattle and horses roamed. When the valleys were forested and impenetrable, the Ridgeway offered a natural route over the downland and into the heart of this island. Centuries of cattle driving wore a trackway that curved across the hillside, traversing the contours of the landscape and unravelling like a ribbon towards the horizon.

Over thousands of years, the Ridgeway became a trading route extending from coast to coast, as far as Lyme Regis in the west and the Wash in the east, with fortresses and monuments along the way. Yet once the valleys became accessible it was defunct, replaced by the Icknield Way – a lower level path that skirted the foot of the hills – and there are burial mounds which traverse the Ridgeway dated to 2000BC, indicating that the highway was no longer in use by then.

In fact, this obsolescence preserved the Ridgeway because it was never incorporated into the modern road network and remains a green path to this day where anyone can set out and walk in the footsteps of our earliest predecessors in this land.

A few years have passed since my last excursion along the Ridgeway. Leaving Spitalfields early and taking the hour’s rail journey to Goring & Streatley from Paddington, I was ascending the hill from the river by eleven and onto the upland by midday. In this section, the flinty path of the Ridgeway is bordered with deep hedges of hawthorn, blackthorn and hazel, giving way to the open downland rich with the pink and blue flowers of late summer, knapweed, scabious and harebells.

A quarter of a century had passed since I first passed this way and yet nothing had changed up there. It is the same huge sky and expansive grassy plain undulating into the distance with barely a building in sight. This landscape dwarfs the human figure, inducing a sense of exhilaration at the dramatic effects of light and cloud, sending patterns travelling fast across the vast grassy wind-blown hills. When I first began to write and London grew claustrophobic, I often undertook this walk through the different seasons of the year. I discovered that the sheer exertion of walking all day, buffeted upon the hilltops and sometimes marching doggedly through driving rain, never failed to clear my mind.

As a consequence, the shape of the journey is graven into memory even though, returning eighteen years since my last visit, the landscape was greater than I had fashioned it in recollection. And this is the quality that fascinates me about such epic terrain, which the mind cannot satisfactorily contain and thus each return offers a renewed acquaintance of wonder at the scale and majesty of the natural world.

In those days, I was in thrall to endurance walking and I would continue until I could go no further, either because of exhaustion or nightfall. This vast elevated downland landscape encouraged such excessive behaviour, leading me on and on along the empty path to discover what lay over the brow and engendering a giddy sense of falling forward, walking through the sky – as if you might take flight. I walked until I thought I could walk no more and then I carried on walking until walking became automatic, like breathing. In this state my body was propelled forward of its own volition and my mind was free.

One day’s walk brings you to Uffington and the famous White Horse, carved into the chalk of the downland. Placed perfectly upon the crest of a ridge within a vast fold of the hills, this sparsely drawn Neolithic figure looks out across the arable farmland of Oxfordshire beyond and can be seen for great distances. A mystery now, a representation that may once have been a symbol for a people lost in time, it retains a primeval charisma, and there is such an intensity of delight to reach this figure at the end of a day’s walking. Breathless and weary of limbs, I stumbled over the hill to sit there alone upon the back of the hundred foot White Horse at dusk, before descending to the village of Bishopstone for the night. There, at Prebendal Farm, Jo Selbourne offers a generous welcome and, as well as the usual bed and breakfast, will show you the exquisitely smoothed ceremonial Neolithic axe head found upon the farm.

The second day’s walk leads through the earthen ramparts of Liddington Hill and Barbary Castle, and on either side of the path the fields are punctuated by clumps of trees indicating the myriad ancient burial mounds scattered upon this bare Wiltshire scenery. It is a more expansive land than the fields of Berkshire where I began my journey, here the interventions made in ancient times still hold their own and the evidence of the modernity is sparser. As I made the final descent from the hill towards Avebury, a village within a massive earthwork and stone circle which was the culmination of my journey, I could not resist the feeling that it was all there for me and I had earned it by walking along the old path which for thousands of years had brought people to arrive at this enigmatic location of pilgrimage.

In two days upon the hilltops I had only passed a dozen lone walkers, and now the crowds, the coach parties, the shops and the traffic were a startling sight to behold. And so I knew my journey had fulfilled its purpose – to reacquaint me freshly with the familiar world and restore a sense of proportion. My feet were sore and my face was flushed by the sun. In Berkshire, the ripe fields of corn were standing, in Oxfordshire, they were being harvested and, in Wiltshire, I saw the stubble being ploughed in. It had been a walk to arrive at the end of the summer. It had been a walk through time along the oldest road.

Goring Mill

“Join it at Streatley, the point where it crosses the Thames, at once it strikes you out and away from the habitable world in a splendid purposeful manner, running along the highest ridge of the downs.” Kenneth Grahame, 1898

A ninety-two year old man told me this year is the worst harvest he could remember. “It doesn’t want to come in the barn,” he lamented.

At East Illsley

“A broad green track runs for many a long mile across the downs, now following the ridges, now winding past at the foot of a grassy slope, then stretching away through cornfield and fallow.” Richard Jefferies, 1879

“A rough way, now wide, now narrow, among the hazel, brier and nettle. Sometimes there was an ash in the hedge and once a line of spindly elms followed it round in a curve.” Edward Thomas, 1910

On White Horse Hill

“The White Horse is, I believe, the earliest hill drawing we have in England. It is a piece of design, in another category from the other chalk figures, for it has the lineaments of a work of art. The horse, which is more of a dragon than a horse, is cut on the top of the down’s crest, so that it can only be seen completely from the air, or at a long view, from the surrounding country – but it was precisely this aspect of the Horse design that I found so significant.” Paul Nash, 1938

The Neolithic axe head found at Prebendal Farm, photo by Rob Selbourne.

At Bishopstone

At Barbary Castle

“The origin of the track goes back into the dimmest antiquity: there is evidence that it was a military road when the fierce Dane carried fire and slaughter inland, leaving his nailed bark in the creeks of the rivers, and before that when the Saxons pushed up from the sea. The eagles of old Rome were, perhaps, borne along it and yet earlier the chariots of the Britons may have used it – traces of all have been found: so that for fifteen centuries this track of primitive peoples has maintained its existence through the strange changes of the times, til now in the season the cumbrous steam ploughing engines jolt and strain and pant over the uneven turf.” Richard Jefferies, 1879

Since the man suspected of making crop circles died, his protege has adopted a different style of design.

At Avebury

At Avebury

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Today I publish a selection from Peta Bridle’s exhibition London Day by Day which opens tomorrow, September 3rd, at Southwark Cathedral and runs until 14th October. The show takes its title from Geoffrey Fletcher’s former weekly newspaper column as a tribute to the peripatetic artist who inspired Peta’s own travels with a sketchbook in the capital.

At Turnips, Borough Market

‘The beautiful and diverse mushroom varieties on display at Turnips, the greengrocers under the railway arches, resemble a vast edible work of art. At the heart of the Borough Market, where trains rumble overhead, Turnips are celebrated for their spectacular epic displays of pristine specimens of the best fruit and vegetables of the season.’

Southwark Cathedral Society of Bellringers

I was fortunate enough to be allowed to visit with my sketchbook to watch bell ringing practice at the cathedral. I discovered that the ancient tower has twelve bells and whilst the bells are being rung the walls shake ever so slightly.

View over Tower Bridge, Southwark

‘This is my elevated view over Tower Bridge from Butler’s Wharf, looking across the Thames to the City beyond. You can see pedestrians walk along the busy Thames path in Potters Field below and in the distance sits Norman Foster’s City Hall, strategically placed to face the Tower of London on the north bank, the former home of the Greater London Assembly and Mayor of London.’

Forgotten Streams, City of London

‘This beautiful bronze sculpture traces the path of the river Walbrook that once flowed from Shoreditch through the City of London. I enjoyed the contrast of ancient lost river in the foreground with the grand City buildings in the background, while in between the three workmen eat their lunches.

Looking East Over Spitalfields

‘Far below, a man leans against a bollard in Puma Court while, to the right, the rooftops of Fournier St meet Brick Lane Mosque and the former Warner Bell Foundry chimney beyond. At the end of Puma Court is Wilkes St with chimney stacks and weavers’ lofts, while to the left a lone figure walks down Princelet St towards Brick Lane. In the distance, Spitalfields’ old terraces meet the towers of Whitechapel.’

Rodney Archer’s Window Sill, Spitalfields

‘Celebrated aesthete Rodney Archer moved to Fournier St in 1984 and lived in his old beautiful house until his death in 2015. I visited his home only once, but I had the pleasure of meeting Rodney and drawing these plants on the window sill.’

St Andrew Undershaft, St Mary Axe

‘St Andrew’s was built in 1532 on the site of an earlier twelfth century church and its name refers to the tall maypole nearby. The church survived the Great Fire and the Blitz only to be hemmed in by huge towers today including the glittering bulk of the Gherkin which looms overhead, offering a powerful contrast of old and new, tightly packed together. The first historian of London, John Stow, is buried in the church and every three years a memorial service is held when a new quill placed in the hand of his figure upon his monument.’

Word On The Water, Regent’s Canal

‘This is a floating bookshop housed inside a twenties’ Dutch barge near Granary Sq at King’s Cross. New and used books are displayed for sale on shelves, both up on deck and below. Inside there are comfortable sofas where you can sit and read while viewing ducks swimming past at eye level. When I sat on the towpath to make this drawing, a trumpeter played jazz up on deck.’

Ragged School Museum, Mile End

‘This is the view from across the Regent’s Canal. The school was opened by Dr Barnardo in 1877 to provide education for children in Mile End and is now a museum, showing to visitors the reality of Victorian life for the poor. I took my son to visit and on the wall was a collection of photographs of pupils from the nineteenth century, one of whom was a young girl with Downs syndrome. My son has this condition and he thought it was a picture of him so I explained to him it was a little girl who lived a long time ago who had once attended the school.’

Coal Drops Yard, King’s Cross

‘Coal Drops Yard was once the goods yard storing coal arriving from the north by rail, but in 2018 the place was transformed with old buildings repurposed into shops and restaurants, new homes built within the gasometers and the warehouses converted into a home for Central St Martin’s College of Art. Regent’s Canal winds around the side of the yard, separating it from the station and the nature reserve to the west.’

Alexandra Palace Boating Lake

‘The boating lake at Alexandra Park in North London was created in the 1870s by damming a stream that ran down the western boundary of the park. Filled with novelty pedal boats, the lake was intended to evoke a Venetian carnival. It gained national media attention in 1992 when rumour spread of a massive, four-foot-long pike inhabiting the waters and allegedly swallowing ducks whole.’

Nelson Dry Dock, Rotherhithe

‘To reach Nelson Dry Dock involves walking through thick soft mud. Engineers Mills & Knight Ltd Ship Repairs is painted in bold red capital letters around the yellow wrought iron gate. The dock closed in 1968 and now sits within a hotel complex but you only get this view from the foreshore or the water when you are up to your ankles in mud.’

St Augustine’s Tower, Hackney

‘This is the oldest building Hackney, built by the Knights Templar in 1292. When you climb to the top of St Augustine’s Tower there are wonderful views across Hackney towards the City. Far below, I saw a bus turning on to Mare St which is always busy with shoppers and a beggar sheltering under the railway bridge.’

Hodge the Cathedral Cat, Southwark Cathedral

‘Here is the magnificent Hodge the Cat, mouser-in-chief and resident feline at the cathedral. He has lodged himself into the wicker basket intended for service sheets. Hodge was a stray, rescued from the streets of south-east London and taken to a cat sanctuary where he was adopted by the cathedral on December 6th, which is St. Nicholas’s day when traditionally gifts are exchanged. Southwark Cathedral is a welcoming place to visit and you might even catch a glimpse of a small black and white cat whilst there…’

Drawings copyright © Peta Bridle

Peta Bridle’s London Day By Day is at Southwark Cathedral, London Bridge, SE1 9DA, until 14th October

You may also like to take a look at

Peta Bridle’s Gravesend Sketchbook

Peta Bridle’s New Etchings

Peta Bridle’s Latest Drypoint Etchings

Peta Bridle River Etchings