A Walk Along the Thames and People Along the Way - The First Meeting, A Bit Awkward

While on an Epic Sunday Morning Walk along the Thames a few days ago, I meet a few people, all of whom were interesting and even inspiring. Allow me to introduce you in the next few posts!

Introduction to Epic Sunday Morning Walks

Eleven miles and six hours: that’s how far and how long is my walk from Wandsworth (home base) to the iconic Tower Bridge, along the Thames Path. I walked this route the last two Sundays. My legs ached a little bit afterwards (I wasn’t exactly limping, but was sorely tempted.) Epic walks generally equal something aching, be it feet or legs or back or equanimity, or in the case of this first encounter, perhaps a bit of pride…but they’re usually always worth it. That first Sunday, St. Patrick’s day, it rained the entire trek. But it wasn’t too cold and…rain is just one of those things you come to expect in these parts. I tucked my camera in my jacket and it stayed nice and dry. I, alas, was a bit pruny.

The walk a few days ago was much chillier than the week before but the sun was out and it was a beautiful morning. You know the beginning of The Sound of Music when Julie Andrews’s character is up in the alps singing, “The hills are alive with the sound of music…” and she’s so free and happy and twirling and vibrant? That’s sort of how I felt outside in the crisp air that day with blue sky and puffy clouds and views upon views upon London views!

My favorite reflected buildings along the Thames Path in Wandsworth

Albert Bridge

Along the way I spoke to a few people, and made brief and mostly heartwarming connections. Each person I met uniquely inspired me.

Please come along for the next few posts as I share these little snapshots of connection as I walked the Thames Path towards Tower Bridge.

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Battersea Power Station. Decommissioned but recently restored to house many fine shops and restaurants.

Tolerant But Not Encouraging

I knew from last week’s walk that as I neared Battersea Station I would find a good cup of coffee at Black Sheep Coffee nearby. This time I was also looking for the restroom (I am slowly growing accustomed to simply asking for a “toilet.” As an American, I’m used to “restroom” or “bathroom” although neither of those make great sense, when one is out and about, do they? It’s still a bit of a struggle to be so blatant but I now can go up to people, even if they’re preparing a drink or food, and ask, “Do you have a toilet?” or “Where’s your toilet, please?” It’s a strange cultural thing - British English and American English are definitely dissimilar in key areas.)

Black Sheep Coffee, Battersea

So, as my oat milk flat white was prepared (by the same person both Sundays, a young man, pale and tired-looking—when I asked how he was doing he said he was tired because he was fasting for Ramadan), I followed the instructions to the back of the cafe to where the toilets are. On the way, I was taken by the wall art which I had not noticed the weekend before.

And, then as I ventured further, there he was. Well, actually, there they were. A man was reading from his phone, his dog at his feet, and behind him was a black and white wall mural of Battersea Station. It was a perfect set up for a portrait, especially since the colors of the dog’s coat echoed those of the wall so nicely.

I wanted to BADLY ask for a photo, but felt quite shy, so made my way to the bathroom, er, toilet, with nary a word.

On the walls of the “toilet.” It’s bathroom humor - get it?

But, the scene gnawed at me. So, I in-couraged myself and came out and asked. “I’m sorry to disturb you but may I take a photo of you and your dog? It’s just too perfect, the entire scene.”

He didn’t smile, he wasn’t thrilled. But, he did say, “Yes” and looked up at me dutifully.

I said, “Oh, please just go back to what you were doing.”

And, I took a few shots and was grateful.

See how the dog matches the wall art?

I neared him afterwards and, embarrassingly, interrupted his reading again, to see if perhaps he would like me to send him his photo. He didn’t smile. He wasn’t thrilled. And, he took a look at the photos I’d taken and said, “No.” I felt my face behind my freckles grow pink and I thanked him again, collected my flat white and left the coffee shop.

As I walked toward the power station, I was happy to have the photos but also felt quite…awkward and embarrassed at having disturbed his peace. It was an awkward and slightly embarrassing exchange, yes, but I wasn’t regretful. Perhaps I should have been?

I wish I could truthfully say that I’ll not do that again, go up to a stranger who’s involved in a…something…and just leave him or her be, but I don’t think I can. When a perfect photographic opportunity like that presents itself, it is generally too irresistible to pass up, even if it is ultimately a little embarrassing and awkward and perhaps a little rude.

Is that a character flaw?

Walking away, while still feeling a little flustered from the interaction but thankful all the same, I took a sip of my hot strong coffee.

And, suddenly, all was once again right in the world and the Thames was alive with the sound of music. (Or, maybe that was just my earbuds.)

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