Walk 24: Tower Bridge to Thames Barrier – 5th June 2026

It’s 8am the day after the walk as I sit down to write this reflection on yesterday’s final stretch of the journey of the last 19 months. I’m still not sure I will be able to put into words all of the emotions I have. Each time I think about the final few hundred metres as we approached the barrier my eyes burn and my vision blurs with the tears that are threatening to fall.

I knew this was going to be a big walk - both in distance - it was 12 miles in the end - and in the numbers of people who joined us. But also in the emotions I would feel to complete this journey.

I’d arranged for my mum to come and look after the children so that my husband could join us on this final walk and we secured a hotel room the night before and the night of the walk to reduce some of the friction of having the long commute on the same day as such a busy walk. It also helped me to not feel too stressed with having to meet timings for trains etc…

The week leading up to the walk felt a bit stressful and familiar feelings of the very first walk 18 months ago in Cricklade were surfacing. Perhaps because it was a walk that held a lot of meaning, perhaps because there were 30 people joining us and perhaps because I still hadn’t quite worked out how we would cross the river near the barrier to get to the north side in time to meet the river bus timings.

Once I got to London on the Thursday night it was about 7pm and as my husband greeted me (as he was in London already for work this week), and we headed out for dinner, close to tomorrow’s starting point next to Tower Bridge I was feeling excitement at the prospect of what the coming day might hold.

On the morning of the walk, it felt like such a luxury to wake up just 2 hours before the start of the walk, leisurely take a shower, have breakfast and then stroll the 10 minutes from the hotel to meet Ann at Tower Bridge, 40 minutes before the 10am meeting time. We sat in The Ivy for tea and toast, talking through the final plans and logistics for the day before heading out to meet everyone who had already started to gather.

There were so many familiar faces to greet and say hello to while also trying to speak with the 6 people who I would be asking to help keep the walk together and offer some coaching. Leading 30 people and offering coaching on this stretch was way more than I was comfortable with but this last stretch felt like it was more than a coaching walk, it was a walk for everyone who has joined us in some capacity over the last 18 months for them to reflect on the journeys they have made and to reconnect in the spirit of the community that has naturally been born out of the journey.

I was so delighted to welcome Robert Seater on the walk - The Poet in Residence for this year’s Thames Path 30th Anniversary celebrations. He contacted me at the beginning of the year after coming across these reflective blog posts and asking if I minded him using them as the inspiration to write a poem for his upcoming book River about pilgrimage.

Due to the number of people I didn’t do my usual introductions for people, it would have taken too long. I did highlight that the day was World Environment Day and that might perhaps be a question we would want to walk with as we followed the river.

Ann had suggested that we split the group into 3 groups led by her, me and Jonathan to try and keep everyone together. Unfortunately this didn’t even last long enough to all get started and we ended up with David leading and Ann bringing up the rear.

Our usual first 20 minutes had us talking to get to know each other as always and there were beautiful scenes of Tower Bridge behind us and converted wharfs and industrial buildings along both banks. We weaved to and from the river a lot on this stretch, diverted onto roads by buildings that had built up along the path.

There was something about the river on this stretch that felt almost unrecognisable, like it had stopped feeling like “mine” in the relationship we had formed up until this point, reminding me of a relationship with a child who now has its own life, is surviving on its own and no longer needs you in the same way. The number of tourists along its paths, the many boats cruising along its wide expanse and large buildings dominating the banks left the river feeling like it no longer needed me as its companion, like it had found its purpose and was thriving in helping others in the way it was meant to. Maybe it was preparing me for our parting, much like the relationship with a teenager who starts to form their own identity and pull away from their parent. I still missed its presence on sections where we diverted from its path, especially a section where we walked along the busy road to the Blackwall Tunnel - so much noise, chaos and concrete in stark contrast to our very first walk where we really needed a passing car to help us get back to the start point after we were flooded off the path!

We stopped at the Mayflower Pub to introduce the coaching element of the walk which we offer for 45 minutes and would then swap who we were talking to for another 45 minutes before stopping for our picnic lunch in the majestic grounds of the Royal Naval College.

I noticed along this stretch that there were still some bits of nature apart from the river - trees, hedgerows, poppies growing seemingly from the concrete next to road signs, birds singing their choruses, grass verges and play parks we walked through but this section felt much more rich in history - the Cutty Sark, the Naval College and many statues depicting lives gone by.

We passed the beautiful little Surrey Docks Farm, a former wharf, that has had at least seven different uses over the last 300 years. It was a delight to see it nestled amongst the large buildings and brought a smile to our faces to see the brass statues of pigs and geese along its perimeter.

Our lunch stop was a welcome one as it was nearing 1:30pm and I for one was getting quite hungry. We gathered on the lawns and chatted about the walk so far and I discussed with a few of us leading about timings and whether we were likely to reach the barrier on time to meet the river bus crossing. With all of the delays of people nipping into shops for a coffee, the toilet trips and the stopping for photographs, this walk had turned into more of a leisurely, companionable walk than the coaching walks I design in my head before we walk. I was torn between wanting to keep this walk true to its structure and allowing people to enjoy this final stretch in a way that felt fitting for them. Following lunch I was also experiencing this creeping emotion threatening to overflow whenever anyone spoke with me. I could feel my own internal tidal wave ready to flow out of my eyes as we edged closer to the barrier.

The stretch between the lunch break and the barrier became more of a chat between everyone. We veered away from the river for a section but we all commented on the dominance of the buildings of Canary Wharf as we approached them, coming round a bend in the river. The contrast between the grey, metallic, concrete straight lines and the bend and flow of the river felt quite affronting.

We had decided to take the gondolas over the river to reach the north side as there was less of a need for a timetable. We rounded the river’s bend and passed the O2 Arena, along the Greenwich Meridian, the artwork along the river and waited for everyone to catch up before heading for the skylifts.

As we glided over the river, there was a shift in perspective of being able to see where we had walked from at a different altitude. I was feeling the need to reach the barrier quickly at this point as I avoided conversation as much as possible as the tears were threatening to fall. We could see the barrier not far away so I could feel the emotion rising.

While noticing the river from this angle we saw a fox far below, making its way across a building site, hugging the fence line so as to avoid detection on the ground. And a few cormorants sitting on posts in the river, watching the water.

Once on the other side, there was another wee stop to facilitate. We popped into the Good Hotel to use their facilities. Jonathan was talking to the manager and we agreed to come back to have our farewell drinks after we reached the barrier.

We finally progressed along the path, over a high footbridge with many steps to get over to the Royal Wharf area and just a mere km from our final destination. The shortest path to Barrier Park was closed off with a police cordon while a forensics team of officers entered a property. We walked along the roads and residential area to reach the river once again and the large silver barrier pods were looming large. We gathered as I invited people to walk the final section in silent reflection.

I found myself at the front of the group as we walked slowly, taking in the light reflecting off the silver barrier markers and at that point, much like the water flowing through the barrier, I could no longer contain my tears. The weight of carrying this journey for 18 months, the tiredness, the weight of responsibility I had carried, the long commutes, the logistics, the communication, the learnings, the number of miles, my own inner self-talk and self-doubt over taking responsibility for how everyone who walked with us left feeling that the day they had invested was worthwhile.

As I write this now the emotion of that final reflective walk and the emotion I carried leaves me in floods of tears - as it was a mere 26 hours ago I think that’s to be expected. But as I reflect this morning, I think some of this emotion is pride. I feel proud of the me who sat in the car 18 months ago struggling to get out and greet people on the very first walk because I felt ill-prepared to lead this mammoth project Jonathan and I had agreed to undertake. And here we were at the finish line with 30 people who had come to feel as connected to this journey as I was.

I wasn’t the only one in tears and as I gave a small thank you speech through my well of emotion, Ruth handed me a card that everyone had signed of thanks and gratitude for being part of the journey and a beautiful book I had been wanting to buy - The Book of Birds by Robert MacFarlane and Jackie Morris. Such a beautiful book that brought me to tears again.

Robert Seater then marked the occasion beautifully by reading the poem he had written, inspired by our walk in what was the most fitting way to end our journey. I had read the poem before but hearing the poet read it himself was wonderful.

Many of us walked back to the Good Hotel for drinks and I felt pretty exhausted and in need of a sit down. My good friend Kieran who had joined us at the barrier stayed with my husband and me and as we chatted over a much-needed refreshment, people started to depart and came to say goodbye, sharing their own memories of the walks and the impact they had had on their lives and more tears were shed.

Eventually it was just my husband, Kieran and me and we decided that the perfect way to end the day was to get the river boat back up to the start point. We called in at a local shop to treat the three of us to a cocktail in a tin and a Lindt chocolate bar and as we travelled back up the river we had just walked along, drinking our cocktails as the sun started to set on the city.