Towpath travels

Begun in 1793, the Grand Union was built to link the canals of the Midlands with the Thames. Once the section from Brentford to Rickmansworth was complete, they transported coal, grain and flour into London and bricks and stone out to Ricky.

I took to the towpath, the scene little-changed since those days. Except, I suppose, for the longboats: diesel instead of one-horsepower.

The first item of interest is the Victorian Stockers House, formerly the home of the "collector" of coal duties. The money went to London Council, being used on such projects as the construction of the Thames Embankment.

Further on, the Herts-Hillingdon border is marked by a granite obelisk. It looks as though it might topple over some day. That would be a pity, for its presence represents our not-too-distant history.

Not quite so historic are two pill-boxes, strategically positioned by the canal. Any invaders today would be undetected, for I saw not a soul, save the inevitable swans, ducks and an occasional heron.

I left the towpath at Black Jack's lock, where, crossing quiet pastures, you get a fine retrospective view of the canal, lakes and beyond, open country and the distant M25.

Harefield was once described as "a flourishing and comfortable looking country village". It still is. Yet, in the 19th Century, they had problems persuading the populace to install sewers!

Evidently it was the cost. The village boasts lots of old pubs. In 1696, when a soldier died in the Kings Arms, £1 paid for the jury's beer at the inquest, and at the White Horse Mrs Gorton was fined 13/- for serving short measures. That wouldn't happen now, of course.

In 1636, the ancient almshouses were endowed by the Countess of Derby to accommodate "poor widows". They belong to another time, as modern day lorries roar past.

Beyond, happily set back from the road, is the church of St Mary the Virgin, where a tall column marks the Australian Military Cemetery. The headstones number more than 100, each marking the grave of a serviceman who died at Harefield Hospital at the time of the Great War. One is inscribed, simply: "His Duty Done". So it was.

Rights of way across open country lead to Bayhurst Wood country park. It's an ideal spot to wander, although the usual approach will be from the opposite side.

In the centre a picnic area occupies a clearing; tables and barbecues providing a tempting venue in the summer months. Best of all, the car park is half a mile away, so you have to climb up through the woods.

Beyond lies Mad Bess Wood, named, somewhat dubiously, after a woman who terrorised poachers and Ruislip Lido.

It was a reservoir first, then, in 1936, they opened it to the public for swimming, fishing and boating. As one Mr Curtis said at the time: "We have provided the necessary accommodation to turn an ordinary swim into a luxurious experience."

Yet it was shunned by the locals, much to the chagrin of the authorities. Sadly, they had to ban the swimming in 1986, due to pollution by chemicals and sewage bacteria. Is this progress?

The Lido today has a sandy beach (sadly visited by dogs), and a miniature railway that runs through Park Wood. I followed it, emerging on a good path by the golf course.

And so to Northwood. Hard to believe this area was open fields until the railway brought the masses out from London. The main road passes by the Gate pub, named after the turnpike that stood here, and further on, at Batchworth Heath, the right of way crosses the magnificent Moor Park.

Cardinal Wolsey reputedly meditated beneath an oak here, and the previous mansion was visited at least twice by Henry VIII.

Back at the Grand Union, it's worth spending time exploring Batchworth Lock, before returning to the aquadrome via the towpath. Until recently you'd have passed by Walker's timber yard. Now it's Tesco. Progress again.

Reproduced from Limited Edition magazine, exclusive guides to living in Hertfordshire, Middlesex and the London Borough of Barnet (01923 216295).

For a printable map of the walk, please click the image below.