WALK LONDON Green Chain Walk[section 9]
Mottingham Lane to Beckenham Place Park (4½ miles)
The Green Chain is a network of footpaths threading through southeast London linking woods and open spaces. It's one of the capital's key strategic walking routes. It's less well known than the Capital Ring or Thames Path, but much better signposted. Four of its eleven sections match the start of the Capital Ring, and another two provide alternative diversionary routes. For today's jaunt I chose one of those diversions - indeed the only section I've never walked before.
Section 9 of the Green Chain begins nowhere special, on a bend in a suburban street an annoying distance away from Mottingham station. Houses are broadly semi-detached. Rajni has lost a two-year-old black tabby cat called Gerry. Someone walks past balancing three M&S ready meals from the BP garage round the corner. Just behind the fence is an art gallery, a recent addition to the educational estate of independent Eltham College, whose sports grounds stretch half a mile down towards the Quaggy. The Green Chain heads round to the front gates, then makes a break for a much more ordinary recreation ground.
Mottingham Sports Ground comprises a dozen football pitches, each marked by a pair of netless goalposts, plus a drab pavilion by the car park. Once a week this is a hubbub of kickabout activity, but now only the last few players remain in conversation, muddy kits spilling out of kitbags. A squad of crows are in formation across one of the penalty areas. At the top of the slope is a tiny brook, and beyond that Lower Marvels Wood, a delightful patch of scrunchy-leaved woodland protected by motorbike-proof gates. One particular tree is being defended by a team of agitated squirrels, desperately battling off a ground-up assault from a bushy-tailed attack force.
Crossing a couple of residential streets brings us to Marvels Wood - technically Upper but not described as such. Again autumn is in full flow, stripped oaks rising high above a carpet of crackly brown, with chunks of trunk scattered here and there for added interest. A short circuit round the wood is marked as a Wild Walkabout, ideal for those with wheelchairs, pushchairs and others with limited mobility, although it looks no different from other tracks. Squirrel numbers are again high. Ahead the trees merge imperceptibly into Elmstead Woods, which looks glorious, but instead the Green Chain slinks off to one side to follow the boundary of Grove Park Cemetery.
Part-way down the railinged descent comes a part-explanation. This section of the Green Chain has three arms, and a signpost here is the point where the two kilometre branch from Chislehurst connects. I couldn't resist a walk up the hill into the heart of the oak forest, just far enough to enjoy its superior leafy vibe before retracing my steps. I might have walked further, but the middle-aged couple taking photos of each other looked like they wanted me out of the way as quickly as possible. Instead I returned to the cemetery's edge, beyond whose railings numerous relatives were tending lines of graves, removing dead flowers and adding fresh.
All too soon woodland is cut short by railway, as the line to Orpington plunges into a pair of tunnels. The station on the other side of the hill is Elmstead Woods, but we're heading the other way, along an evergreen path already bedecked for winter. Another spur of another Green Chain section connects here, but that's for completists only. Someone has attached free plastic bags and a message from the Poo Fairy at each end of the footbridge, perhaps too patronising in tone to hit home with its intended target audience. A staffie waddles by, closely followed by two men dressed in grey trackies.
Thus far the Green Chain has done well linking sequential green spaces, but here it comes up against a golf course and loses. The next three quarters of a mile is spent skirting Sundridge Park, whose links and greens are carefully screened from prying eyes by a line of trees planted many years ago with intent. Initially this means descending New Street Hill, the non-golf side of the street an attractive line of 1940s houses. It dips, then rises, a telltale indicator that the headwaters of the River Quaggy flow unseen at the bottom of the valley. And then it means following a narrow path squished between the golf course and some allotments, for a few minutes longer than feels enjoyable.
Thus far the Green Chain has been exceptionally well signposted, so much so that I could have left my directions at home. But then comes a post with its top burnt to charcoal (go straight ahead), then a sign nudged the wrong way (bend sharp right), and then another deliberately twisted round (do not enter the recreation ground). The railway line crossed here is the dinky spur to Bromley North, with Sundridge Park station located very close to the south. A Greene King rebrand means the Prince Frederick looks nothing special, but it's actually Victorian on the site of an 18th century inn, long before Sunday roasts and BT Sport.
What they don't warn you about in the Green Chain blurb is that'll you'll end up walking a mile along suburban Bromley streets. Specifically this is Plaistow, a swallowed hamlet not to be confused with the East London district of the same name (and here more normally pronounced 'play-' than 'plah-'). Park Avenue seems to go on for ages, and is comfortably ordinary, whereas Elstree Hill is somewhat wild. An uneven pebbly descent, this private road twists down past a motley assortment of detached dwellings, some accessible only by steep steps. One otherwise plain house boasts the former doorway to the London School Board offices as its ornate porch. Deep gullies and potholes remind the rest of us why we pay tax.
That's Millwall FC's training ground on the valley floor. Its pitches are pristine, but its blue-topped clubhouse will win no architectural prizes. An adjacent recreation ground is provided for non-professional locals. Beyond the river Ravensbourne is an unstaffed station of the same name, which would be a sensible place to stop, but section 9 dribbles on into Beckenham Place Park to link up with sections 8 and 10. This is by far the busiest part of my walk, a magnet for Beckenham-folk seeking an autumn amble with their offspring, partners and hounds. One family has brought a pramful of props to help them snap woodland portraits of their small daughter. Another has brought Casper, Lewisham's most disobedient King Charles spaniel. I have walked from Mottingham, and I may be alone in that.
