Walk 20: Walton Bridge to Kingston upon Thames - 13th March 2026

The logistics of this walk kept me busy in the week leading up to it. Initially 19 people were signed up, but there were lots of movements with people cancelling and others booking. In the end we had 14 people join us.

Luckily the weather had calmed down since the last walk and we didn’t need to worry about flooding on the path, although the day before there had been some stormy weather across the UK. On the morning of the walk, as I packed my car at 5:30am, the skies were clear, it was a chilly 3 degrees with a stunning waning crescent moon shining brightly ahead of me, which lit up the sky.

It was a lovely way to start the drive. The previous few walks had been overcast and dreary as I made my way down to the start point, so it was a welcome change to watch the sky slowly turn from dark to light over the first hour of the journey. I started to listen to Robert MacFarlane's book Is a River Alive on the way down too which gave me lots of food for thought ahead of this stretch.

This was the first walk where we hadn’t arranged transport at the end to bring us back to the start, so it was nice to only have to drive to the meeting point in Walton. I arrived early and met Ann there where we shared a drink and waited for others to arrive.

Unfortunately, when Jonathan joined us it was clear his back was giving him a lot of pain. One of the initial motivations for the project was to support his rehabilitation from spinal surgery, but it was obvious that walking today wouldn’t help, so he stayed with us for the check-in and then made his way home to rest.

It was another mix of new and familiar faces on the path as we gathered at the start point which is always so lovely to see. Our check-in question for this walk was:

The river has a way of influencing us. Last time its fast current seemed to change our pace. As we set off today, what are you noticing about how you’re arriving - your energy, your pace, and what you might need from the walk?

As always, some themes began to emerge in people’s responses. Many were open to whatever the walk might unfold - the possibilities and the discovery of what might emerge along the way. After the swaps and changes to the numbers right up until we started, I realised I was hoping to find some steadiness during the walk and I often find the river is a good barometer for that, even when I am not looking for it.

At the meeting point there was also a local school starting a sponsored walk at the same time. With hundreds of children setting off about half an hour ahead of us, we met them in groups as they walked back. It was great to see them walking, chatting and laughing. I also couldn’t help noticing, as a parent, just how filthy some of their clothes were from dragging along the muddy path, especially as many were clearly wearing normal clothes and footwear!

This stretch of the walk was definitely more inhabited. Long gone are the days when we didn’t see another person along the route. Many of the people who had joined us were local and knew the area well, sharing stories of their memories here while also seeing it through a slightly different lens as we noticed the nature around us along the way.

There were clear signs of spring along this route. Daffodils, primrose and snowdrops were in full bloom, and beautiful cherry blossoms lit up patches of grey branches. There were still large balls of mistletoe visible in some of the trees that hadn’t yet leafed out. When we looked more closely, many branches were beginning to show small buds, ready to blossom when the conditions were right. Other trees and bushes already had some branches blooming while others on the same tree were taking their time.

This became a lovely metaphor in one of my coaching conversations, as did the coaching cards when people began to notice the parallels between the way nature behaves and how we might take our cue from the way it adapts to the conditions around it.

The group spread out a little during the first part of the walk, with various coaching conversations happening along the path. The participants at the front stopped when they reached the bridge at Hampton Court Palace to wait for everyone to catch up. Next to where they had stopped was a group (or gulp) of around six or seven cormorants perched on what would normally be a jetty when the water levels are lower. They were stretching their wings and just seemingly hanging out together, a bit like a group of teenagers might on a Friday afternoon.

We crossed the bridge and had lunch on a small concrete jetty next to Hampton Court Palace as the sun began to burn through the clouds. It was a lovely spot to sit and reflect on the morning so far and watch the river pass by and we all appreciated the sun shining down and glimmering off the river's surface.

After lunch we only had a couple of miles left to walk. We left the break with our usual ten minutes of silent reflective walking, taking us past the palace gardens behind their gold-plated iron gates. The gardens were beautifully manicured, which felt like quite a contrast to the more natural, untamed landscape just outside the gates on the other side of the river. Several of us reflected on that contrast as the silent stretch came to an end, along with how much we had appreciated the opportunity to slow down, be quiet and notice what was happening both within and around us.

We soon arrived at Kingston and, despite the eight miles we had covered, it felt surprisingly easeful and not at all like we had walked that far.

We closed the walk with our usual check-out, revisiting what had shifted for each of us during the day. It was clear that many connections and conversations had taken place along the route and you could feel that shared energy as we gathered together at the end.

I reflected that being back beside the river had allowed me to feel calmer and steadier again. On each of these walks the river seems to give me something, but I do sometimes wonder how I might ever reciprocate or give back as much as I feel I have received. We pick up litter along the way as a small gesture, but it doesn't quite feel enough.

Not having a car at the end point felt slightly less ideal at this point in the day. I made my way back to Walton with David and Fionnuala via bus, then train, followed by a 25-minute walk back to the car. It was almost 5pm by the time I reached it and gone 8:30pm before I arrived back home in Cheshire.

It had been a long day and I suspect the final few walks may feel similar as more people join and we rely more on public transport between start and end points. But with only five walks left now, I’m already noticing a sense of loss creeping in at the thought that this journey will soon be over.

If you'd like to join us on our Source to Sea journey, you can find the latest schedule and link to book here.