There are many otherwise perfectly rational people out there utterly convinced that, for the past 22 years, a small bit of SW17 has been going about its oddly soulless business just off the M1 in Buckinghamshire. Be that as it may – and it definitely may not – MK Dons v Orient is NOT a local derby.

With next season’s fixture list imminent, I’m reminded of something that occurred to me on our walk through Bromley the other week: that, following their recent promotion, it might be Bromley FC that the O’s get to visit in the traditional Christmas/New Year derby. This felt wrong. [1/3]

So, Principality Building Society… although you initially accepted that I was not a robot, you now think that, in the five minutes it’s taken me to compose my question to you, I might have BECOME a robot… is that correct? And does this happen much, in your experience? [1/2]

The railway arches south of the Elephant are home to many mysterious goings-on. Some we should probably draw a discreet veil over. Or possibly a galvanised-steel roller shutter. But some are the Orbit Brewery taproom where, as the sun went down, [1/2]

… and then, somewhere on the road from Twickenham to Teddington, everything suddenly faded to black and white, and we felt a strange chill in the air… [Still walking from Shepherd’s Bush to Sunbury…] #StrawberryHill #Twickenham #Teddington

So, as you can see, this stone pillar on Brentford High Street commemorates three local events: Cassivellaunus’s confrontation with Julius Caesar in 54BC, the resolution of King Offa’s dispute with the Bishop of Worcester in 781, and Edmund Ironside’s victory over Cnut in 1016. [1/2]

So, on Saturday we walked from Shepherd’s Bush to Sunbury-on-Thames through the urban hellholes of Chiswick, Brentford, Twickenham and Teddington. Sunbury itself isn’t an urban hellhole, of course, being just over the border in Surrey: Farage country. [1/2]

Even people who loved Blueboy’s records back in Sarah days were often stunned by how the band sounded live; I mean, Popkiss on 7” is great, but onstage, with both guitars fully unleashed, it absolutely roared. And still does. That’s my excuse for reposting this, anyway... #Blueboy #SarahRecords

After Reform’s banning of the Pride flag from their council buildings because (to quote Zia Yusuf) “flags should represent everyone, not divide”, the new Reform council in Havering, where we were the other week, has cancelled the borough’s annual Pride celebration and will only fly flags that [1/2]

Among Bromley’s many other attractions is this bit of rock from Lochinver in north-west Scotland. “One of the oldest rocks in the British Isles”, according to the plaque, it was presented to the people of Bromley in the year 2000. [1/3]

That bit of sturdy Victoriana on the plinth, by the way, is the town pump; amazingly, it still works, and is used by the mayor whenever Bromley needs reinflating. I’m not sure who the chap in the top left of the evolutionary tree is, though; I’m guessing it’s probably Adam. #Bromley #CharlesDarwin

On our walk to Keston we passed this tribute to local lad Charles Darwin in Bromley town centre. Sadly, someone’s chucked silver paint around Chuck’s legs and feet. Probably a Reform supporter made angry by the thought of evolving. And B&Q, presumably, were out of red-white-and-blue paint. #Bromley

All I’m saying is, in the course of ten miles, this (pic. 1) will become this (pic. 2). And, on the way, it will experience Catford. [River Ravensbourne in Padmall Wood, Keston, and entering the Thames at Greenwich.] #Keston #Bromley #RiverRavensbourne #Deptford #Greenwich #Catford #PadmallWood

Even those who didn’t get beyond the first paragraph of my book about Deptford (see attached) will know that Julius Caesar didn’t discover the source of Deptford Creek (aka the River Ravensbourne) while on a camping trip in the woods just south of Bromley; [1/2]

Farage’s mob say in London you can’t set foot outside your house without encountering a mugger; whereas I say in London you can’t set foot inside a clump of trees without encountering the moated remains of a medieval manor house. #ScadburyManor #Chislehurst

Right, I can see what you’ve done wrong here, Bexley – you’ve only gone and ordered the top of your spire in metric, and the bottom in imperial, haven’t you? #Bexley

On her way through Hall Place Gardens that morning, Fiona suddenly realised that life on Earth would never be the same again. #Bexley #Crayford #Bexleyheath #HallPlace #RiverCray #QueensBeasts

So, on the right is the Darent, flowing down to the Thames. And on the left – trust me – is the Cray. In other words, this is where the Cray empties into the Darent and ceases to be. And we’ve just spent 35 minutes walking from Dartford station to not quite see it doing it. #Dartford #RiverCray

Kent has one of England’s most beautiful stretches of coastline. I think it’s somewhere round Broadstairs. #Dartford #RiverCray

I call this one “Horses”. After the Patti Smith album. #Dartford #RiverCray

We also watched Rye Lane, which is way better. And not just because it has more women and fewer sharks. Though that’s never a bad thing in my book.

In its standard form, the Union Jack is twice as long as it is tall. The uprights in a typical set of railings are not. So whatever you might think about the politics of the Right’s more artistic elements, you really do have to acknowledge their… what’s the word… oh, let’s just stick with stupidity.

So, yes, on Saturday we walked up the River Cray from mouth to source. Which meant, sadly, briefly crossing the border into Kent – Dartford, to be precise, home of the Great British Bin. #Dartford #RiverCray #Kent

Maybe I just expected more because I remember how Jaws was a really big thing when I was growing up, but… I don’t know… I guess all I’m really saying is, it’s no Mortimer and Whitehouse.

... and speaking of wonderful things, as I was, Denmark Hill station was also, of course, back in 1991, the location for this rare Field Mice photoshoot… [Photo by Richard Bellia] #TheFieldMice #SarahRecords #DenmarkHill #Camberwell

Because it turned out neither of us had ever seen it, on Sunday we watched Jaws and, blimey, it’s dull… almost dull enough to make you want to gnaw your own leg off. The first bit’s OK, but then it’s just three men in a boat; only without the dog, or anyone getting lost in the maze at Hampton Court.

On Saturday we took a train to the edge of London in search of wonderful things. We found them earlier than expected, here at Denmark Hill station: a Una Marson poem engraved on the window by the barriers; and sculptures made from plastic milk bottles on the path beside the vineyard; and a vineyard.

The sculptures in that earlier post were unveiled at the opening of this, a new bridge across the River Beam linking Barking & Dagenham (sunlight) with Havering (clouds). In May, of course, Havering was lost to Reform, with many Faragistas campaigning for the borough to leave London for Essex [1/2]

Can I say, by the way, how sad I was to see West Ham get relagat… get ralega… West Ham gat relog… Wet Hams git… nope, turns out I can’t. #leytonorient #lofc

Last week’s walk to #Dagenham ended in Beam Valley Park, scrubby wilderness of tank traps, rabbits, pillboxes, cuckoos and these three sculptures; etched in steel, they celebrate the 1968 machinists’ strike at Ford’s (which led to the Equal Pay Act), local soldier Ian Fisher and, yes, #BillyBragg.

Gloriously raucous 171 through a very al fresco south London last night; especially liked the quartet who, having been over-served in the bars of Catford, made it upstairs with their leader on her phone bawling: “We’re in Brockley – that’s my favourite vegetable by the way – we’re going to Peckham.”

In a glass box in Valence House, in the endless grey sprawl of the Becontree Estate, is this, the Dagenham Idol, carved out of pine nearly 4,300 years ago and found buried in mud on the site of the Ford works in 1922. It’s one of the oldest human figures in Britain; and rather beautiful. #Dagenham

Can’t help feeling that having your 24-hour emergency number permanently incised into metal just below your big friendly “welcome” rather takes the edge off the latter, but… maybe this is why I no longer work for Barking & Dagenham’s department of tourism. #ValencePark #ValenceHouse #Dagenham

At the end of their working life, many old gasholders like to move out to the country, feel the grass between their stanchions. This one near Barking is messing with my head, though; it all seems OK, then suddenly those hoops flip and look like they’re sloping down. Or is it me? #Barking #EastHam

Locals claim new inter-dimensional portal on Plashet Grove “way more obtrusive” than in mock-ups; also, no one had said it would be blue. To find out more about this unsung corner of east London, by the way, see my forthcoming book, Plashet All Over: The Great Smell of East Ham. #Plashet #EastHam

With Tommy Robinson’s dismal rabble of flag-waving dimwits on the march in central London, it was great to find people in Canning Town still happy to admit that they weren’t just woke, but superwoke. Not sure what the “16” signif— what’s that? Superwok? Superwok, E16? Ah. Right. I feel such a fool…

I call this one “The Physical Impossibility of Lincoln City in the Mind of Jarrod Bowen”. [Photo taken on the site of the Memorial Grounds, Canning Town, West Ham United’s home from 1897 to 1904.] #CanningTown #WestHam

Oddly popular Essex football club West Ham United haven’t always freeloaded at the Olympic Running Track, of course. In 1895, Thames Ironworks FC – as they were called back then – played their first games here, Hermit Road in Canning Town. [1/2]

So, yeah, Saturday was a proper East London odyssey, a sixteen-mile hike from Mile End to Dagenham via Plaistow and Plashet... starting with a flat white and a pastry at The Coffee Room on Grove Road and then a sun-dappled stroll through this nearby small forest [1/2]

I know @lucycmunro.bsky.social’s always complaining I never take her anywhere nice, but that’s really unfair; here she is on Saturday, for example, enjoying the view of #Bromley-by-Bow gasworks from that bridge where Limehouse Cut meets Bow Creek. Sorry, what? “Bow Locks?” No, it’s true I tell you…

To be clear, the courgette didn’t actually hit Morrissey; it broke up mid-flight. I’ll never forget his wild-eyed look of bafflement and fury, though, as he clocked its approach; it was like he’d just walked in on Mike Joyce making a beef stir-fry backstage using an upturned cymbal as a wok.

This piece in Wednesday’s Guardian about people throwing things at bands has brought back memories of something I’ve been feeling guilty about for years, namely that… deep breath… in 1983, when the Smiths’ This Charming Man tour came to Bristol, [1/4]

Wightman Road, the left-hand rail of the Harringay Ladder, is a very dull road. Except when it isn’t. [Part 1] [St Paul’s, Harringay. The New River is behind the houses and inaccessible to humans at this point.] #Harringay #HarringayLadder #NewRiver #N4

If you’ve no idea what I’ve been going on about, the New River was built between 1609 and 1613 to bring fresh water from Hertfordshire to London. Over the course of its 62km, it followed the contours with a fall of just 10cm per kilometre. And most of it’s still in use. And, yes, I did mean 1609.

Three further points: 1. Facebook’s alt-text suggestion was “a burger, poached egg, smoked salmon and grapefruit”. Ugh! 2. Yes, @lucycmunro.bsky.social (sitting opposite) does have a frying pan full of pork sausages. Because she loves sausages more than morals. 3. No, I did not de-ramekin my beans.

When, in the course of a long walk across London, you find yourself in need of midday sustenance, then nothing quite hits the spot like an old-school all-day breakfast, that traditional medley of sausage (veggie for me!), baked beans, banana, pancakes, strawberries, spinach with pomegranate [1/2]

Whoa, what? There’s more than one sort of bee??? Since when? Wait – is this why there’s more than one sort of honey? Or is that down to the plants – nectar and stuff? And what about golden syrup? Or is that wasps? [Noticeboard near West Reservoir, Stoke Newington.] #StokeNewington #NewRiver #N16

One of the things about an artificial waterway, of course, is that it tends to attract artificial wildlife. [On Saturday we walked the New River from The City to Enfield; we’ve got as far as Canonbury.] #NewRiver #Canonbury #Islington

Having already walked to Enfield like Romans (via Ermine Street) and ancient drovers (via Green Lanes), on Saturday we did a bit of Thames Water cosplay and took a stroll up the New River. Big mistake – we’d barely left Angel before we hit one of those urban hellholes Reform keep going on about…

Following recent trials at Uxbridge station, a TfL spokesperson said that trip lasers would not only be much more of a deterrent to fare-dodging than traditional ticket gates but also, like, totally blow people’s minds, man. #Uxbridge