1st July 2026
The train was late as usual and crowded with suitcases as usual. Two stops further on a hundred hi-vis-clad school kids were shepherded onto the train by their teachers/escorts ensuring that no one was getting off in a hurry at Reading. Just as well that there are frequent trains connecting Reading to Paddington. At Paddington the Purple Train platforms were demonstrating why the Elizabeth Line is the busiest railway in the country. Two stops in air-conditioned modernity followed by nine stops on the slightly less comfortable Northern Line brought me to Highgate Station, the birthplace of Jerry Springer. The late talk show host and 56th Mayor of Cincinnati was born on 13th February 1944 in the station while the German Luftwaffe dropped bombs from above when it was in use as an Air Raid Shelter. As far as I know there’s nothing at the station to mark this event.
I left the station through the Priory Gardens exit which sounds nicer than it is in reality and walked up the road to the right turn up a steep footpath between the houses into Highgate Spinney.
At the top of Highgate Spinney I turned right then left onto Archway Road briefly before taking Holmesdale Road to locate the sloping path down to the abandoned track bed of the Edgware, Highgate and London Railway which would have become part of the Northern Line had the little disagreement of 1939-1945 not intervened. I made a brief detour to see the portals of the tunnels leading to the abandoned Highgate “surface” station before turning around and heading eastwards on the Parkland Walk, a 3 mile long linear nature reserve which follows the former railway towards Finsbury Park.
I didn’t get very far. At Northwood Road the Rozzers were out in force and had cordoned off the Parkland Walk with blue & white tape, directing everyone down the steps to the street. The next access point in Milton Park was also cordoned off, resulting in a lengthy and hilly detour all the way to Hornsey Lane and back to the route at the footbridge over Stanhope Road. Could’ve done without that. It was nice to get back on the relatively peaceful (and level) former railway. I have previously walked all of the Parkland Walk but in the opposite direction, from Finsbury Park to Alexandra Palace.
The old railway runs in a cutting passing under road bridges and between the abandoned platforms of Crouch End Station with the former station building now a heavily grafftied cafe and shop on the road above.
After passing under Crouch Hill the line rises onto an embankment and crosses several streets on railway bridges with views north and south, especially at Stapleton Hall Road where it crosses both the street and the London Overground Suffragette Line, better known as the “GOBLIN”. The new line names still mean little to me, I expect you need to be a regular user for them to have relevance.
There were quite a few lunchtime joggers out as I crossed the bridge over Upper Tollington Park to reach the end of the Parkland Walk where the abandoned railway would have connected to the East Coast Main Line just north of Finsbury Park Station. The Capital Ring carries on over the multiple tracks on a bridge that leads directly into Finsbury Park itself and after crossing the carriage drive passes close to the cafe and toilets. I availed myself of both, getting a coffee to go with my picnic lunch, eaten on a bench overlooking the boating lake.
A large part of the park was closed off behind barriers and fences for the three day Festival Republic event with Biffy Clyro, Kasabian and Wolf Alice headlining. Only the last of those appeals to me. The Capital Ring runs to the north of the festival site though so after lunch I resumed my walk passing through the Mckenzie Gardens and past the sports stadium then across the open parkland where Victorian Londoners would have come to escape the smoke of the city to the south.
Approaching the carriage drive near to the gate out of the park onto Green Lanes I found a rather grumpy tree.
Green Lanes at over six miles in length is one of London’s longest streets. How old it is is uncertain, it’s possibly an ancient drovers’ road and possibly dates back to the Roman occupation. You’ll have plenty of time to think about this because the Pelican crossing here must have one of London’s longest waits between pedestrian priority phases. A proper “is this fucking thing working?” wait before eventually the lights change and you can cross to the other side. On the other side of Green Lanes the Capital Ring joins the New River Path. The ‘New’ here in New River is a comparative term. It’s newer than Green Lanes but considerably older than say, The United States of America. The New River, in fact an artificial waterway opened in 1613 to supply London with fresh drinking water taken from Chadwell and Amwell Springs near Ware in Hertfordshire.
It has a fascinating history, originally following the contours of the land and dropping just five inches per mile to allow the water to flow under gravity it has over time been modified and straightened in places but a large section still serves as part of London’s water supply. It also provides a nice fairly level walk away from the roads. The New River Path which follows the water as closely as possible is 28 miles long. One day I will get around to walking all of it. The section which is also the Capital Ring I have previously walked, again in the opposite direction and at the time noted that it appeared to be home to a large number of Eurasian Coots. It still is. They’re still breeding.
I crossed Seven Sisters Road and rejoined the New River as it looped around (contours remember) past Woodberry Wetlands and the West Reservoir, the latter busy with people falling off paddle boards. The river here was an odd opaque blue-green colour but that didn’t stop it supporting Water Lilies, bright blue dragon flies, or four fluffy Coot chicks who were getting a lot of attention from the walkers and joggers on the path. By the time I reached Green Lanes again the afternoon had warmed up quite a bit and become a little humid. There’s a castle here on Green Lanes. It’s not actually a castle but a Victorian water pumping station in the guise of a castle keep. Where it used to house six large steam engines it now houses a climbing centre - rock rather than social.
I headed south and just before entering Clissold Park popped across the road to Sainsbury’s to grab a cold drink. The fifty-six acres of Clissold Park contain a large open space, two lakes, part of the New River, and Clissold House, now a cafe and events space but originally a home, built in the latter half of the 18th century, for Jonathan Hoare, a City of London merchant, Quaker, philanthropist and anti-slavery campaigner and then named Paradise House. The house and grounds passed through several hands until being purchased in 1887 by the Metropolitan Board of Works and opened as a public park. On this sunny afternoon it was being used by a groups of red-shirted school children for cross-country running, with as many short-cuts across the corners as they could get away with when no one was watching.
On the back of Clissold House is a memorial drinking fountain with an inscription which shows the value of correct punctuation. The three daughters of Wilson Yeates were not in fact 134 years old when they died but one, three, and four years old respectively. The dog cooling off in the bottom of the fountain was a temporary installation 😀
Leaving Clissold Park past the graveyard of the Old Church I reached Stoke Newington Church Street opposite St. Mary’s New Church, built in the 1850s because the congregation had outgrown the Old Church. Here I turned left and followed Stoke Newington Church Street east almost as far as the Fire Station before turning left into Abney Park Cemetery. This was again familiar ground, I’d finished up here after a random urban ramble once before. Abney Park is one of London’s “Magnificent Seven” early Victorian parkland cemeteries. Set out originally as an arboretum cemetery it found favour as a resting place for non-conformists and save for where individual plot-holders desired it is not consecrated ground. A wild tumble of trees and memorials, some at very odd angles, intersected by paths surrounds a disused central chapel.
Amongst those tumbled monuments there are some famous (or infamous depending on your point of view) names including William and Catherine Booth and a whole lot more from the Salvation Army. There’s a goodly number of slavery abolishionists although not William Wilberforce since parliament considered a state funeral at Westminster Abbey more fitting. There are people from far overseas and missionaries who went far overseas. Also fire fighter James Braidwood, credited with forming the first municipal fire brigade. Hard to miss is the grave of Frank Bostock, he was partly responsible for bringing Asian and African animals to the attention of the Victorian public so it has a life-sized marble lion on top of it.
I emerged from Abney Park at the top of Stoke Newington High Street where it becomes Stamford Hill. Here Section 12 ends, Section 13 carries on to Hackney Wick down Cazenove Road opposite but that’s for another day.
I carried on up Stamford Hill past The Egg Stores Ltd. with its distinctive signwriting on the front and at Stoke Newington Station I caught the Weaver Line (see I’m learning) to Seven Sisters, the Victoria Line to Warren Street, and the Northern Line to Waterloo. None of which were as hellish as the South Western Railway train that it took from there which had no working air conditioning - and of course no opening windows because air conditioning never breaks down does it? 😧
80 photos from Capital Ring Section 12 here (opens on a new page) or in a slideshow below if your viewer supports it.
