The year is approximately 1300 AD, and I am on the edge of The Great North Wood. A magnificent oak woodland which stretches as far south as modern day Croydon and as far north as modern day Camberwell.
To be here among these noble trees, listening to the chaffinch, robins and wrens sing their songs. Watching the butterflies dance in the sunshine, gives me a sense of incredible peace, and a heart swelling pride at being a SE Londoner, in this glorious land.
And this warm glow is only mildly tapered, by the fact that I’m upside down. Suspended from the highest sturdy branch of a strong oak tree, by the elastic of my underpants.
An hour ago I was in modern day London visiting my in laws who live next to South Norwood County Park. They have recently become new parents, as have we. As a gift Rosie brought a rattle dating from the Aztec period which she rescued from a skip outside the British Museum, after one of their installation changes. I’m told this happens all the time, and that after an exhibition on the culture of the Celts, some peaces of the Lewis Chessmen were put onto freecycle.
Unable to match Rosies gifting of an object of priceless value, I instead offered to help by taking their English Bulldog, Barrington for a walk.
The County Park is one of 20 surviving fragments of the Great North Wood, which was mostly destroyed through deforestation during the Middle Ages, to fuel South East London’s two great industries. The oak wood was sent to Deptford, where it was used to build the ships which powered the British Navy. While the bark was taken to Bermondsey, to be used for the tanning in leather making, which kept the population of Britain looking sexy.
Walking around modern day South Norwood County Park is lovely way to spend a sunny day. There’s a swing park, pitch and putt golf and a sports centre with a football pitch and athletics track for the more active. But after a few laps I sensed Barrington was keen to venture further, and find more trees to wee on. So after walking past the sports centre, and pausing at the top of the hill to wipe the sweat from my brow, I released Barrington’s lead a little to let him explore a smell he’d found in a bush. Took out the magical adjustable spanner, and gave it a twirl.
As we arrived in the year 1300 I felt the ground disappear beneath my feet. I’d completely forgotten that the hill we’d been standing on was man made in the 1940’s from the rubble of buildings destroyed during the many Nazi bombings on Croydon.
On reflection, such is the unrealibilty of the spanner, I was fortunate not to have been propelled into the period of the Second World War when the area was used for training by the armed forces, as Barrington and I may have been mistook for a recently shot down Nazi pilots.
Maybe just as bad, we could have landed in the period between 1862 and 1920 when the park was used to treat the sewage of London. Me and Barrington would have needed more than a couple of doggy bags to get out of that mess. The creation of the Norwood sewage farm is yet another example of poor planning by the local authorities, as the areas London clay base made it difficult for the sewage to drain away, leading to very smelly flooding.
The area is still referred too as ‘the sewage farm’ by some of Nowood’s older residents.
However, as hoped, we arrived in the glorious woodlands of 1300. And as I have already mentioned, fortunately plucked from a fatal fall by an near by tree. Tragically Barrington, as a result of loosening my grip on his lead, was not so lucky. With no branch to save him he plummeted to the wild flower ground below. He would have certainly been killed, but for a passing hunts man who incredibly was beneath him at that very second in which he landed, breaking his fall. You will be relieved to know reader that Bazza was back on his four sturdy feet and sniffing that floral carpet in an instant!
Tragically the wood cutter was killed instantly.
Or so it appeared.
Because after a short while he stirred, lifted his head, and gingerly got to his feet. Miraculously appearing to have no serious injuries, he rested on the trunk of the tree while regaining his senses.
Then, in a cruel twist of fate. He was eaten alive by a pack of wolves, who he had presumably been previously hunting.
Once the wolves had finished their meal they wondered off to find something to howl at.
I dangled their for a while, contemplating my options, when at last my eyes fell on the sight of my spanner laying on the ground above my head. I must have dropped it on arrival. Realising I was in a bit of a spot I decided to panic. But before I was able to summon even a tear, Barrington, again wondered into veiw.
“Barrington!” I exclaimed. “Dear Nobel Barrington! You’ve come back to save me! Did man ever have a more loyal friend?”
I spoke slowly and gestured largely so my canine savour would better understand me. Pointing at the spanner and mimicking the widening and narrowing of the adjustable jaw.
“Listen carefully, I need you use the magical adjustable spanner, to travel back to 2019. Taking care not to be buried alive, under a man made hill. Then I need you to find Rosie, and tell her I’m stuck up a tree, in the 1300’s. Can you do that for me old chum?”
As I spoke, he stared at me with his head cocked to one side. When I’d finished he blinked a few times, then lowered his head towards the spanner.
“Yes, go on, that’s it!” I yelled down my voice breaking with excitement.
He barked at me and I barked back, hopefully in agreement.
He prodded the spanner with his nose a few times.
“Yes!” I exclaimed.
Positioned himself over it.
“Go on!” I cried.
Then he cocked his leg, urinated on the time traveling device, and ran off in the the direction the wolves. Presumably hoping to join their pack.
I was left to hang in the wind.
The great North Wood really was glorious. It fills me with sadness that I can’t show it to you, dear reader. But I fear if I were to bring all three of you at once it may overload the spanner, causing time to go the wrong way. I recently helped deliver my beautiful daughter Ren into this world. I’m not sure I fancy doing it again in the other direction. And I’m certain Rosie wouldn’t.
But work is underway to restore the Forest thanks to the Great North Wood project running from 2017 to 2021. An initiative to protect and improve wildlife habitation, encourage and train volunteers, provide outdoor sessions for primary school children, and much more.
I’ve attached the link below in case you may be interested.
As for me? Eventually the elastic in my underpants will snap and I will be able to get to the spanner and go home. But if the fall should kill me then at least I will have died doing what I love, in not necessarily the orientation I would have preferred.
Till next time.
https://www.wildlondon.org.uk/great-north-wood
PS I’m able to post in 2019 despite being stuck in the 1300’s because I’ve adjusted the date on my iPhone. So there
