A Year On Hampstead Heath

This is supposed to be a walking blog, about me getting out into the countryside for walks, to improve my physical and mental health. Something I - like many others - have needed more than ever over the past year, and have - in my opinion unnecessarily - been denied.

Instead I have been regularly walking to Hampstead Heath, the closest approximation to countryside there is in my local area. I'm not going to pretend it is as good as the real thing - it takes a big leap of the imagination to believe you're far away from the city, and it requires some real determination to get away from other people (chiefly I have found by being there in the dark and/or in miserable weather). At times my walks there have felt like a trudge around a prison exercise yard - but there have been times when it has offered at least some respite from this oppressive nightmare.

Anyway, if nothing else than to fill in the obvious gap in the articles on this blog, I thought I would take a moment here to document my walks to the heath over the past year.

March 2020

At the start of March, life was still normal, and it wasn't until the latter half of the month that we really descended into the madness. I only walked to the heath twice this month as a result (I was still able to get out of London and do a section of the Ridgeway earlier in the month). The two sets of pictures show a stark contrast between the carefree blue skies at the start of the month - we were out flying a kite - and the grim and rather apocalyptic reality by the latter half of the month.

This photo did set something of a precedent though, that view from part way up Parliament Hill, with the bandstand in the foreground and the London skyline in the distance, became a standard photo I would take over and over again on my visits to the heath.

April 2020

Six visits to the heath this month, spurred on by the arrival of spring flowers and the longer days.

Lest we forget, things were particularly crazy at the start of that first lockdown. Police were fining people for sunbathing. The implication seemed to be that, yes, you might be allowed outside for exercise, but you had to keep moving at all times. If you read in the opening paragraphs of this article about me likening some of my walks in this period to a trudge around the prison exercise yard and thought I was being melodramatic, perhaps you should pause to reflect on that again here.

Certainly that first walk to the heath with the girls in early April didn't feel like a blessed release or a leisurely stroll. I recall spending the whole time feeling anxious that we were being watched by other people on the heath - if we so much as stood still for too long they might report us. In hindsight that seems a little irrational, and thankfully in time I did learn to relax about that.

Perhaps as a result of that unease I felt on the previous foray, it was a whole two weeks before I ventured to the heath again. This time it was an early morning walk to try and be there when it was quiet. I was rewarded for that with a riot of spring flowers that had come into bloom. I was most pleased to see cowslips, which is a flower I somehow imagined would only grow in a "proper" countryside environment - they reminded me of a beautiful spot atop the South Downs. To add to that, hosts of bluebells, carpets of forget-me-nots, and clouds of various blossom on the trees. This was, I suppose, quite an uplifting moment - and all before 9am in the morning.

As April wore on, and daylight hours grew longer, evening visits to the heath seemed an increasingly attractive idea. The heath also tended to be a bit quieter then.

One continuing gripe I have of the heath is that it doesn't seem to be a particularly good spot to watch the sunset - there doesn't seem to be any vantage point without an obstruction to the horizon looking west. At best you get a bit of a pink glow reflected on the skyline if looking down into central London. Still, that grumble aside, I found it increasingly pleasant to be here in the failing light of an evening.

On my final expedition to the heath in April - with Erika in tow - we explored the "jungle". We followed tiny paths through the thickets near the top of Parliament Hill, and hacked our way through the undergrowth (metaphorically - we didn't cause any damage I assure you).

With a good deal of imagination this offered some fleeting moments of feeling like we had escaped London - and all the people in it - and this did provide a temporary relief from the sense of confinement.

May 2020

In May I still seemed to be able to persuade Erika to come with me to the heath, and she joined me on four of my five visits this month. We did a bit more jungle exploration, and also I discovered the barrow this month.

I had been thinking ahead to the summer solstice next month, hoping I might be able to get back to Avebury for it, but as it turned out that was not to be. So I had wondered if there might be anything from prehistory remaining in London, and as it turned out there is a (possibly) bronze age barrow on Hampstead Heath. So that would have to do as a source of atavism for the foreseeable future. It quickly became my favourite spot on the heath to sit and reflect, and I found something calming and even slightly magical about it.

June 2020

By June, the restrictions had eased and visits to the countryside were no longer banned - however the rules over public transport still made it a bit unclear what an acceptable use was. We had hired a car for a day towards the end of May to escape to Ivinghoe Beacon but I'm really not a confident driver, and the stress of driving out of London and back in again rather diminishes a lot of the calming benefit of going for a walk. I also felt guilty at the prospect of abandoning the girls for more than an hour or two, and the sort of long country walk I was itching to do wouldn't appeal to them.

Eventually, by the summer solstice - given that Avebury was closed to visitors (even to the extent of roadblocks, apparently) - I decided to just get on a train, and headed to Coldrum Long Barrow in Kent.

In between though the visits to the heath continued.

On my first visit to the heath of this month, I got caught in a sudden downpour. It was surprisingly dramatic. Still photos never quite do rain justice but if you look at the full sized versions of the two photos above you should be able to see the rain coming down in sheets. Although you might imagine I would have taken shelter under a tree, or hurried home as quickly as possible, I actually stood for a while atop Parliament Hill and just let it rain on me. It was rather exhilarating, after all that time trapped indoors, to be exposed to the raw elements like that.

Oh and there was also lightning. Excuse the finger in the way. The conditions were a bit extreme.

Also a couple of videos to give you a feel for it.

Subsequent visits that month were less dramatic and more pleasant as you might hope for early summer.

I toasted the reopening of pubs (for takeaway at least) with a flagon of cider from the Southampton Arms, sat by the barrow. Sitting by the barrow was to become a regular fixture of walks to the heath (albeit not always with cider).

By the middle of June the weather was glorious once again, and it was encouraging to see the heath transforming from a place of weary trudges for daily exercise back into a destination for picnics and meetups with friends. Not that there were many alternatives, given that the pubs weren't yet allowed to let anyone in, other than for takeaway.

July 2020

In July most of the restrictions had been removed, and coupled with the fact the girls flew off to Japan on the 12th of this month meant I finally had the freedom to get back to proper walks in the countryside. I did a two day walk to finish off the Ridgeway (part one, part two) and had two glorious walks on the South Downs (here and here), as well as a couple of jaunts around London. In between though the visits to the heath continued, albeit that now it was much more about the sitting and enjoying being outdoors - often with a glass of wine - than about much walking per se. 

Just before Chie and Erika flew off to Japan we had a long rambling Saturday afternoon stroll, along with another family, and built dens and climbed trees together.

In the latter half of July I made several evening visits to the heath, taking advantage of the long daylight hours, the warm evenings and nice summer skies. Generally with a bottle of wine in hand, sometimes to meet a friend, sometimes to just enjoy being outdoors alone.

August 2020

Visits to the heath tailed off a little in August, partly because I was heading to other parts of London to meet friends, but also partly because I was slightly put off by all the other people who seemed to have realised it made a very good outdoor drinking venue. I just made one foray there in the first half of August, and found there were a lot of other people sat around my favourite spot, the barrow. What a cheek!

I then didn't return until after my weekend away in East Sussex (see here, here and here) for a late evening glass of wine with a friend. That was only the second time to stay on the heath until after dark, and that was a bit of a revelation - it didn't seem particularly scary as I thought a bit of urban parkland might be in the dark, and once all the crowds in the daytime have gone home it was wonderfully quiet and peaceful - plus I could even just about make out a few stars.

September 2020

Just three visits to the heath this month - the first two very much still felt like the tail end of the summer, but by the third the weather had turned noticeably and it was a rather grey and grim affair. The transition to autumn was evident in the acorns on the trees and the leaves starting to change hue.

Somehow this ended up being the last time I got out into the countryside for a walk this year - with my walk on the extended Ridgeway, from Pewsey to Avebury.

October 2020

I didn't get my act together to get out into the countryside this month, and given the surprise second lockdown which was imposed in November, in hindsight I deeply regretted that. I suppose I had become complacent with the relative freedoms of the past few months and didn't think there was any great rush - as each weekend approached I yearned for a foray out into the countryside, but the weather forecasts never boded well, and I had the usual sense of guilt about abandoning the girls for a whole day, plus some indecision about where I should go - thus I kept putting it off until the following weekend. Then, the following month, it was no longer an option, and I really wished I had just made time for myself to go on a proper walk regardless.

So instead the visits to the heath started to ramp up again, and I think I visited a total of nine times this month. With the shortening days I also made an effort to be there for sunrise and sunset on a couple of occasions.

November 2020

The second lockdown was imposed this month. At its onset I experienced a really intense bout of depression, and deeply regretted having not taken advantage of the freedom to travel last month.

So I leaned heavily on this heath this month, making a total of 14 visits I believe - almost there every other day. Many of these were with wine in hand, often early "evening" - which I have come to define as when the sun is going down, regardless of what actual time of day that occurs. November provided an assortment of autumnal skies, and relatively mild weather when just a tweed suit would do, without need for the addition of a scarf and gloves. So I caught a number of sunsets, and also went early to try and catch the sunrise on one occasion (although was perhaps a little too late). To add to that celestial interest, on one occasion I was also treated to a rainbow - after enduring a sudden downpour.

December 2020

I was approaching the end of the working year with rather a lot of holiday accrued, given the difficulty of actually making any holiday plans this year. So I was off work for practically half of this month - from lunchtime on the 17th onwards.

Given that we had yet more restrictions imposed upon us, earlier hopes of perhaps getting away at Christmas vanished, and instead we were stuck in London. There was very little else to do but keep trudging to the heath and back. In total was there 21 days this month, sometimes twice in one day for the sunrise and the sunset. I had hoped there might be a bit more of a presence at the barrow on the winter solstice - it being probably the only prehistoric monument in London of any note - but as it turned out it was rather a grey and drizzly morning, so I sat there in the gloom - with my big orange umbrella emulating the sun - all alone. Fortunately had been there the day before around sunset, and that had been a much nicer day. The weather was definitely feeling more wintery now - and scarves and gloves were a must on my of my walks - but despite that I managed to persuade Erika to join me a couple of times with the promise of ice cream. Yes the ice cream van was still there, despite everything - what a trooper.

January 2021

Any naive optimism that the worst of the Orwellian nightmare might have been left behind with 2020 was quickly dispelled with the imposing of a new lockdown - for some undetermined period - just a few days into this month. The depths of winter can be a struggle from a mental health point of view at the best of times, and so this was a particularly low ebb for me. One which could have been much easier to handle if I'd just been allowed to get out into the countryside for a proper walk.

Of course that was not to be, so, yet again, much more time spent on the heath. A total of ten visits this month. At times this really was the depths of winter and we even had a pretty decent covering of snow one day. Some slightly milder days though, and I even managed to get to the heath in time for the sunrise one morning - particularly pleased with the photos from that day.

February 2021

Another month of hard slog dealing with the oppressive restrictions, and more wintery weather to start with, but (meteorologically at least) improving towards the end. There were a couple more flurries of snow later in the month, although nothing like the thorough covering we had last month.

On a day when I felt particularly down in the dumps I tried out the Hampstead Heath "Extension" - a part of the heath I hadn't ventured to before. I can't say I found the differing terrain wildly exciting (that section of the heath is quite narrow, so it never felt far away from houses) but I suppose the longer than usual walk probably did me some good.

The parts of the heath I choose to aim for on each walk typically reflected my mood. At times I just wanted to get as far away from other humans a possible, practically to the point of hiding in amongst the bushes in the more wooded bits of the heath. At other times, when I felt more upbeat, I actually felt uplifted at the sight of other people enjoying the heath, particularly as the hope of the restrictions being lifted was raised towards the end of the month.

So there you have it. A year on the heath. By the end of February the year on the heath had come full circle, had watched all four seasons come and go in this piece of urban parkland. Spring was once more on it's way, and hopefully with it the promise of happier times.