A very thin strip of Hillingdon stretches west between the M4 motorway and what'll soon be Crossrail. That's where we're going. [map][photos]
Bull's Bridge [51.5°N 0.407°W]
Bingo, it's the most important point on the canal network in west London. Bull's Bridge spans the entrance to the Paddington Arm of the Grand Union Canal, while the original Grand Union continues down to the Thames. The new connection opened in 1801, when this low humpback was added, and Bull's Bridge became an important stopping-off point where bargees waited for their orders. The adjacent slate-roofed tollhouse used to be in a very poor condition, but has been restored in the last year and looks ready to be reused. All trace of the coal wharves is long gone. Today the boroughs of Ealing, Hounslow and Hillingdon meet right here, each on a separate side of the water.
I am not the only person present. Two silver-haired gentlemen have arrived with rucksacks and pastel rambling-trousers, one clutching a copy of the official guide to the London Loop. They're clearly taking the challenge seriously because they've noted the recommendation to divert 60m off the advertised route to admire the bridge, and are cataloguing their visit with a few carefully chosen photos. A father and daughter lay down their bikes atop the hump and pause for a juice break before cycling on. The narrowboat Little John unties its moorings alongside the superstore on the Hounslow shore, which a sign assures us is called Tesco Hayes Bulls [est 1994]. A small flotilla of moorhens swims under the bridge, the two youngest cheeping for all they're worth when suddenly an older bird dives dramatically for... oh, a bit of weed.
The dandelioned slopes around the bridge are a popular picnicking spot, assuming that picnic consists of lager, vodka and a scattering of Mini Cheddars. Someone has abandoned nearly 100 slices of bread on the path and steps, every single one of them a crust, which begs a question. A proper old-school fingerpost has been positioned at the water's edge, pointing towards Brentford 6 miles, Paddington 13½ miles and... the West Midlands arm is bent and mostly broken off. A much more modern black and yellow fingerpost has been installed for walkers and cyclists, one arm pointing downstream towards the evocatively named Wolf Bridge. I wish I'd picked a sunnier day to visit.
Nestles Avenue [51.5°N 0.417°W]
Once, when industry was king, residential roads could be named after international manufacturing giants. Nestles Avenue doesn't have the apostrophe or the accent in its moniker, according to the sign at the end of the road, but one hundred 1930s semi-detached houses face directly onto the former Nestlé factory opposite. In 1916 a Swiss company bought up a former cocoa plant here on the banks of the Grand Union and started making Nestlé products under licence, before a merger brought Nestlé UK head office to the site, and a larger Art Deco factory was built. Grocery stalwarts Nescafé and Milkybar were both made here, the freeze-dried coffee being the last product to survive until the whole site closed down in 2015.
1381 houses are on their way, as you'd expect, but for now we're in the pre-development interregnum and the only way to get inside is via illegal urban exploration. Wow. To discourage such behaviour Keep Out signs are absolutely everywhere, while today is the last day to object to planning permission for the erection of ten 'Chocolate Works' flagpoles around the perimeter. At the former pedestrian entrance a set of decorative iron gates and railings (originally 19th century, brought over from Switzerland) have been sealed and locked inside a security nomansland. As for the main entrance for vehicles, its barriers are down, the signs reading Nestlé Beverage Division are illegibly overgrown, and the 1950s Moderne Style canteen stands vacant. It's going to be the gym for all the new residents, obviously, and if they fail to serve Nespresso someone's got this all very wrong.
Asda, Hayes [51.5°N 0.426°W]
I feel I should stop off in Hayes proper, just south of the Crossrail redevelopment vortex, but all I've hit is the Asda superstore at Fairey Corner. More specifically I've hit the petrol station, which isn't going to score any narrative prizes, although the presence of Hillingdon's mobile library looks promising. Ah, no, it's just here for a lunchtime refuel. Unleaded is 124.7p a litre, and diesel 4p dearer, for future reference. Logistics company Nippon Express have a giant warehouse alongside, the M4 being conveniently close. Two smart young gentlemen walk past clutching a sheaf of green religious tracts which they seem keen to discuss, but I smile and shut them down. I'm unconvinced this brief Asda layover has been worth my time.
Pinkwell Park [51.5°N 0.440°W]
What I particularly like about Hillingdon's parks, even the smaller ones, is that a mapboard always explains the origin of the space. This one's named after a small pond at the start of the Frog's Ditch, and was laid out in the 1930s when George Wimpey & Co Ltd were building the surrounding Bourne Farm Estate. A separate sign beside each entrance appears to warn that "gathering in groups of two or more" is prohibited, but I think it's just very badly worded. Almost all of the park is requisitioned for recreational activity, including football, basketball, bowls and skateboarding. The bloke practising his halfpipes must be late 30s, at least.
It's walkies time for the Rottweiler I've accidentally followed here from four streets away. No evidence of gender is visible. He/she is a hardwired tugger, stopper and sniffer, and has been brought here by a lad wearing red trackies and green trainers. He has his charge on a very thick silver chain, and even once in the park doesn't dare release them for a runaround. A woman with a less exciting spaniel stops for chat and an admiring stroke. I'm nervous when the conjoined pair approach, but it's only so I can be asked "Brother, have you got a cigarette?" and alas I have not. They wander off to sit in the basketball shelter, where a mate joins them and the dog aches to be elsewhere.
One day Prologis Park will expand south to cover 51½°N, but its logistical megasheds have yet to spread onto the brownfield site along Stockley Road. It's bleak round here, and pedestrian unfriendly, especially the mega interchange where the M4 spur road breaks off and heads for the airport. I have to dash unaided across the four lane southbound highway, praying that the lights don't change halfway, then equally nervously across the four lane northbound off-slip.
Crowne Plaza London - Heathrow [51.5°N 0.454°W]
Even a mile and a half north of its take-off strip, and a mile north of any Runway Three, the airport's pull is strong. The Crowne Plaza hotel was dumped beyond the M4 in 1973, a Y-shaped beast with five identikit floors on each arm. The handful of flags fluttering out front reflect a global clientele, with China and the USA prominently represented alongside, er, Kenya and Vietnam. A wall of net curtains faces the car park, and a sports club with an enticing swimming pool is bolted on at one end to help the overall four-star-ness of things. Cars and shuttle buses drive in at the front, while hospitality staff from UB7 walk in round the back, where the laundry lorries depart carrying a cargo of soiled cotton.
Living in London I'm never subjected to the unwelcome wastefulness of the overnight pre-flight stay. As well as the need for a £136 room in which you'll spend most of your time unconscious, it's an extra £16 if you want the benefit of wi-fi. It's also £16 a day to park your car here, because you're over a barrel, and the Hoppa shuttle to the airport costs £5 a time. You'll also need dinner, they hope from the on-site Indian restaurant, although it's actually an easy walk to the local chippie if you know which way you're going (which the orientation of the site ensures almost nobody would). Across Cherry Lane, named after the orchards postwar development devoured, residents of the Novotel and slablike Holiday Inn are similarly 'trapped' until their aeroplanes eventually whisk them away.
Which just leaves West Drayton to tick off, tomorrow, and then we're done.
