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.
