Escape from London: Ivinghoe Beacon

Following the easing of restrictions on movement in mid May I was keen to escape the urban confines of London, even if just for a few hours. This was easier said than done though - public transport was still reserved for essential journeys only, and we don't own a car. Since the middle of March we hadn't been any further away from home than where we could get to on foot. Given that we live in zone 2 of London, that meant the closest we'd been able to get to anything like countryside was Hampstead Heath. We had relied heavily on the heath in that time, but it still wasn't the same thing, and it never fully gave me a sense of getting away from it all.

Following some deliberation over whether it was appropriate - or a good idea - to hire a Zipcar to get out to the countryside, the tipping point came this morning when my 7 year old daughter really flew off the handle, and shut herself in the cellar. We'd obviously been used to outbursts when she was younger, but that was a phase we'd put behind us several years ago, and disturbingly the tone of it now felt much more like an adult going through a bout of depression rather than simply a child throwing a tantrum. The past two months had been a very testing time for all of us, we were all really feeling the strain of all this time being cooped up at home, and I felt we we desperately needed a change of scenery.

I didn't want to drive too far for various reasons, and decided we should go to what I thought was the nearest bit of "proper" countryside to us - the Chilterns. I thought back to my visit to Ivinghoe Beacon at the start of my walk along the Ridgeway in January - which seemed now like another lifetime - and remembered how impressed I had been with the scenery for somewhere only 13 miles beyond the M25 and only an hour's drive from home.

As soon as we arrived at the car park - a little way from the top of the hill - I knew I had made the right decision. The weather had been a bit changeable the past couple of days, but this afternoon it was glorious. A bit windy, perhaps, but gorgeous blue skies with just a scattering of little white fluffy clouds.

More importantly though was the sense of space - we live in a flat in a Victorian terrace with thin walls and poorly insulated windows and doors, and I'm always acutely aware of being hemmed in on all sides by our neighbours. This had been even worse during the past two months as of course all of our neighbours were at home pretty much all the time, and we similarly didn't really have anywhere else to go. Many aspects of the lockdown had seemed quite ridiculous and counter-productive to me - given the tiny dimensions of London properties, being restricted to the confines of your home often meant having far more people in close proximity to each other than would have been the case if visits to the wide open space of the countryside had remained unrestricted throughout.

So it was especially gratifying at Ivinghoe Beacon this afternoon to be able to look out to far reaching vistas, uninterrupted by buildings, or, perhaps more importantly, other people.

I felt instantly elated, jubilant even, at being set free in this beautiful landscape, and having all this space around me. I could see an instant transformation in my daughter too. Just a few hours earlier I had been sat in the cellar with her - literally the pit of despair - trying to bring her out of a disturbingly out of character paroxysm which had been really upsetting to witness. Now though she was beaming, running free and seemed just as delighted to be here as I was.

To cap it off there were sheep - and lambs - out in the fields, which were a joy to behold.

The scenery had an almost surreal quality to it. Perhaps it was in part down to the contrast with our urban confinement of the past weeks. I think it may have also had something to do with the chalk, those pale hints underpinning the grass, which also looked ever so slightly parched already given what a warm spring it had been. It was mesmerising in every direction we looked.

We meandered in a round about way towards the "summit" of Ivinghoe Beacon. As we neared the top we met the full force of the wind, and despite the otherwise gorgeous weather it was pretty blustery. However, the views from the top are just spectacular - it feels as though you can see half of England from here - and again I'm surprised and delighted by how green and pleasant it all looks. Somehow the first time I came here I had assumed it would be looking out over urban sprawl - again being only 13 miles from the M25 - and yet the surrounding area appears, at least from this vantage point, unexpectedly rural.

One final picture I am quite fond of as we headed back to the car. I had commenced my walk along the Ridgeway - currently on hiatus - with this stretch of chalky track. Today's outing had in part been to prove a point that it was still possible to get back out into the countryside despite all the current difficulties. Notwithstanding the logistic challenges of using a car rather than public transport for a walk (which kind of limits you to circular rather than linear walks) I hope to be able to resume by walk along the Ridgeway in the not too distant future.