If you didn't walk from Wimbledon to Richmond yesterday, I went on your behalf.
Wimbledon Common (Southside)
Most of Wimbledon Common is sprawling heathland, but the southeast corner is open, grassy and surrounded by roads, making it ever so convenient for residents of Wimbledon Village to drop by. This they have done in large numbers. From my vantage point on the bench by Rushmere Pond I manage to count over 100 folk enjoying a quick constitutional while the sun briefly makes its presence felt. Most visitors have brought with them either a small child or a dog, often both, sometimes several. The wise have also brought something to throw, be that a ball or a cheap plastic spinny thing, because this is one of the simplest ways to keep a child/dog occupied for the necessary number of minutes before it's time to go home. The birds on the lake are glad of the distraction.
Cannizaro Park
Only those in the know tend to visit Canizzaro Park because they know where the path up the side of the hotel leads. The hotel used to be Cannizaro House and the park was its walled grounds, which explains much of the luxuriant planting within. I pick up a copy of the Autumn Trail from the rack by the entrance, although trying to locate the twelve trees on the map proves a challenging orienteering course because none of them are labelled. Beneath one particularly large tree a group of children are playing outdoor games Enid Blyton would have approved of. Along the Maple Avenue I pass a family wearing entirely unnecessary wellies. The Rose Garden is still able to offer red, pink and yellow blooms, but can't hold a candle to the multi-coloured Gouldian finches in the Aviary. Well worth an exploration.
Wimbledon Common (Gravelly Ride)
The further you walk onto the Common, the quieter it becomes. Closer to the main road are folk in padded jackets with pushchairs, plus children wielding a new favourite stick. Further on are retired couples with terriers, family groups weaving through the bracken and pairs of colour-coordinated joggers. Eventually you get to dodge the golfers, each wearing the official pillarbox red collared tops the Conservators demand. And then the rutted bridleway bears off towards the bottom of the valley and only the occasional dogwalker intrudes. I descend past mottled oaks and browning ferns, past brief patches of pink autumn groundcover, past drainage ditches clogged with beechmast, past holly rich with red berries, to a secret showjumping arena hidden in a clearing. Always walk that little bit further, it pays dividends.
Wimbledon Common (Beverley Brook)
The Common's western boundary is marked by the Beverley Brook, halfway through its journey to the Thames and running in deep semi-artificial channel. The riverbed looks like a tornado has whipped through, with thick branches toppled everywhere, but it turns out this is deliberate - the Environment Agency are trying to de-canalise the river with the aid of 'woody material'. As for the riverside footpath, with its squelchy narrowings and muddy puddles, this is the first time on my walk that I've been relieved to be wearing boots instead of trainers. I've also accidentally matched my pace with a woolly-hatted dogwalker whose two charges are thoroughly enjoying themselves running amok through the undergrowth. I enjoy it less when one stops directly in front of me and shakes themself dry.
Robin Hood Roundabout (A3)
I'd hate you to think that my hike was all natural idyll, so I'm inserting this photo of the point where I had to spend almost two minutes crossing a busy trunk road.
Richmond Park
Thousands have had the same idea as me and flooded to Richmond Park to see the autumn colours. We're all a bit early, the primary colour of foliage still being green, but various branches look like they'll be triggering soon. One lone oak to the north of the Isabella Plantation has gone full-on yellowy-orange and is the focus of much camera action. I end up following a long sandy trail, occasionally crisscrossed by walkers on their own personal tangents. One family has brought a picnic but decided against sitting down on the tartan cloth they've laid out. A cyclist in Goretex is preoccupied mending a puncture on his upturned bicycle. Three gentlemen with buttonholes head towards a private event on the terrace at Pembroke Lodge. If the weather holds, the skyline should look increasingly impressive by next weekend.
Richmond Park (deer)
October is one of the months the Royal Parks warn you about on their notices, being the end of the mating season, so stay well back and do not approach. Many pay scant heed. They gather on the paths around tracts of bracken where the animals graze, indeed the easiest way to track down a group of deer is to seek out a cluster of photographers. Branching off the beaten track can unintentionally bring you into closer contact, and on one occasion I decide a five minute detour is preferable to walking past a potential rut. Not all are so careful. Below Spankers Hill a tiny dog suddenly bolts towards a group of does, followed ineffectually by its owner, who then spends the next minute and a half chasing round in circles as the deer retreat and scatter. Nobody's hurt, but I sure as hell hope someone's embarrassed.
Richmond Hill
For those without the time or inclination to explore the park, a quick constitutional up Richmond Hill suffices. It has glorious views across Thameside meadows that poets praised, and beyond, in fact I think those towers on the horizon might be Woking. I take a seat on Averil's bench, one of dozens and dozens facing riverward, and enjoy the scene. Each gust of wind sends a random shower of leaves groundwards. Planes can be seen almost up to the point they land at Heathrow. The good people of Richmond parade by in pristine trainers, new season scarves and in one case a snood. It's almost as important to have a photo of yourself in front of the view as it is to grab the view itself. And here at last the treetops on the Twickenham bank are the motley assorted shades that only autumn delivers, so don't come too soon but don't leave it too long.
