Beneath the pavement, the Beach
June 17, 2008 by Bird
Filed under Blog, Wild London
This weekend we felt giddy with summer and took a spontaneous day trip along the South Bank. There is usually something entertaining happening there; this time it outdid itself. It was the day of the Coin Street festival, an intimate, quirky event that saw Polish experimental musicians rubbing shoulders with riotous gypsy bands and local heavy metal kids. The Meltdown festival hosted by Massive Attack was opening at the Royal Festival Hall, there was a wacky architecture event on at the Hayward gallery, plus a glorious exhibition about coral reefs, impossible mathematical objects and crochet. The sun was out, the sky was a riot of restless cloud, the pavements full of happy, strolling, culture guzzling people.
But what lies below the thronged pavements of the Thames Embankment? On this particular Saturday old lady Thames was having a particularly low tide, so a glance over the embankment railings revealed a pocket of golden sandy beach. It’s true that most of the wide and neglected Thames beach is shingle and quite a bit is mud, but it seems strange to me that aside from the work of these sculptors even the sandy parts lie utterly deserted. I have always loved walking along this secret shore, but the tide has never been out as far as this on the other occasions I’ve come to explore it.
We raced down the stone steps to beach level and walked the relatively short stretch from Waterloo bridge to the Tate Modern, revelling in the unique views to be had from this unusual angle. The tide must have gone out by about twenty or thirty metres, revealing bridge supports and hidden structures built below street and river level, invisible to the oblivious crowds on the busy pavements above. A pier which normally juts out into deep water was completely exposed, and St Paul’s Cathedral and the glass towers of the city could be glimpsed through its massive legs.
One of the fun things about such low tides (if you are like me) is the chance to examine the strand line. The Thames is no longer the filthy stinking river it once was; it is home once more to (reintroduced) salmon, and quite fabulously, a rare colony of seahorses has been found in deepest industrial Dagenham. Even in the very centre of this great Metropolis the water is reasonably clean. Lady Thames is grand enough to be, to some extent, still untamed. A serious beachcomber on the Thames is supposed to obtain a license – the swift tides and estuarine mud further downriver can be treacherous and if you are to spend long hours gleaning the shores you need to understand the dangers. Just as important, many items of historical significance can be found and it is important that such discoveries are recorded. Those licensed to search the shores are known as Mudlarks. As well as antique bottles, ceramic shards and old clay pipes, Roman coins have been known to get washed up on the strand.
I’ve never been that lucky but I don’t care; it’s all interesting to me. True, there is as on any shore in the world now, a certain amount of plastic rubbish (I have helped with the clearing up after a Reclaim the Beach festival in the past but sadly I rarely remember to take a bin bag for litter picking on my solo jaunts) but the items stranded are fascinating in themselves. Why are there so many ceramic shards in one particular place – was there a china factory there? The pub a couple of hundred metres upstream could explain why there is a large amount of brown and green glass below their establishment, but I doubt that they’d know anything about the large quantities of delicately coloured art glass that is to be found all along the stretch we walked. One part of the shore is littered with eroded but still distinctive yellow London clay bricks – a spoil heap for a building site, or was there once a brickworks in the area? Are the clam and oyster shells a tip off that these creatures are living somewhere in the river, or were they simply dumped here by a local restaurant?
We gleaned a few pretty ceramic fragments and some interesting bits of old glass, watched the cormorants and herring gulls and feral pigeons squabble and wheel, idly turned over a few stones, then climbed the steps back up into the other world, the world of busy crowds and conventional city views.
After exploring all the good clean civilized fun to be had in the Tate and the Royal Festival Hall, we re-emerged to find the sun had gone down. In a mere two hours the tide had turned, the water having risen almost to the level of the pavements, and the buildings and bridges were lit up and shining as if gilded. The places where we had stood in sunny daylight were now under twenty metres of black water, the mysteries that the river had briefly shared now taken back into its depths.
In this built up and heavily populated place, below the inky ripples gaudily lit by street lights, over my footsteps from this day, the fishes are now swimming.
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WOW what a post! Thoroughly enjoyed the walk and being like a ‘Mudlark’! Wonderful sand sculpture of a Pterosaurus and fantastic photographs not to mention a great read
I particularly liked your thoughts about what establishments might have once been along the strand line.
Hi Anonybird! The Thames beach has always fired up my imagination so I’m glad you enjoyed it!
Its really interesting to see your take on places I wouldn’t think about visiting.
I have only been to London the once, its scary for Northerners
I can imagine Sherlock Holmes stalking along the beach because of a body being washed up.
Marvelous, delightful post with great pics and commentary!!! WOW!!! I thoroughly enjoyed your adventure. How fun to find washed up history. I have a basket of beach glass and odds and ends I have found along the shoreline in past years and that basket brings me much comfort during the frozen winter months. I know other items are there on the lakeshore, waiting for another season when I can discover them, along with all the other beachcombers. I also have bits of beach findings glued onto small driftwood and used for a border in my bathroom, and it feels like a spa everytime I enter the room.
Hugs, JJ
Claire, I’m a Northerner (still,I think,I hope) and London can still scare the crap out of me after years of being here
I am sometimes worried that I might find a body when I go along the Thames, it has been known to happen. I also like to imagine that I am Sherlock Holmes. Without the pipe, tweeds, funny hat and dry wit, of course.
Hey JJ Loch, it is fun going beachcombing, I have so many little bits and bobs from my expeditions. I should have mine in a basket like you, the biggest and best things I display on the mantelpiece but sooo much just ends up in a tin box where no-one can see it. I’m not making the most of my findings! I love the sound of your driftwood borders, that is a beautiful idea.
What a LOVELY post. Living in New Mexico, USA (desert) I so miss water. I was transfixed by this post. I am SO glad to hear that the Thames is cleaner now. What wonderful news. I loved the sand art and even more your interesting writing about beach combing. I love to do that. When I lived in Maine as a kid we used to go to the beach and look for glass and shells and neat drift wood. I also did the same in Australia on the beaches when I lived there. Even though you found no Roman coins, etc. I still thought what you found was beautiful. It’s like finding treasure.
This was such a magical and yet informative post. Very well written. I am impressed and envy you being near the water. Hope you are well, Hugs, RainforestRobin
Oh, Bird–what a fantastic post of a splendid afternoon! Thank you for bringing us with you on such a terrific adventure. I’m a complete stranger to London and the Thames, so it was a pleasure to see this often-hidden side of your city.
Here on Cape Cod, the mudlark is called a Mooncusser, as in years long ago, they would use lanterns on moonless nights to encourage ships to run aground, releasing their treasures onto the beach for their plundering.
I’m pleased to hear of the Thames good health–what good news! I have no doubt that Mole and Ratty and the rest would be ever so happy, too.
Beautiful photos, as always!
I felt as though I was walking along with you! London is my favorite place to visit in the world and I don’t get there nearly as often as I’d like.
Thanks for this wonderful glimpse!
Hi Bird! Many years ago I lived and loved happily in London, Chelsea to be precise. Some of the best times I ever had involved walking along the river bank. It’s ever changing, always novel and for what can easily be described as an ‘industrial waterway’, is hugely refreshing. Sometimes I’d go further upriver and maybe picnic near Hampton court and just relax. However you appear a little bolder than me lol – I used to avoid those ‘gloopy’ looking areas – had this weird idea I’d either be sucked under or stuck fast until the tide rolled over me…You’re a brave lass!
Ben
It’s a lovely post and beautiful photography. The image resolution is fine and the shot of the sunset is breathtaking.
I lived in London for 30 yrs and I never found what you have shared (just didn’t look then ‘spose)
xhenry
I had no idea that one could walk the banks of the Thames in London like that! How cool. (Though in retrospect I did know it was subject to tides, so it seems obvious. . . I guess I just never thought about it.) I simply LOVE this post. What a gorgeous final pic, and perfect way to end the post. The photos and description take me right there, and I needed that.
Thank you.