The weather here was gorgeous and I was trapped by volcanic ash (and that's my excuse for not helping at home this weekend). I couldn't not go walking. Especially since I'd done this walk two years ago on the same weekend.
I went south along the Grand Union Canal, going from Uxbridge to Cranford Park, a ten kilometre hike just to get get to my starting point. The weather was glorious and there was much to see. There was a little girl blowing bubbles from a narrow boat; they lit up the waterway as the bubbles glistened and changed colour in the still air. The banks were adorned with wild plums (sloe or blackthorn to you and me) in effusive and effulgent blossom. The mallard, watchful but proud with up to twelve ducklings. It was perfectly quiet under the empty Heathrow flight path. Then I headed north on the Paddington spur, having met the intersection with the Hillingdon Trail at Bulls Bridge. There was a man in the canal, or so it first seemed. He was actually in a tiny boat like a box and he had a big filter on a scoop, arranged much like a bulldozer. He was cleaning the water and frankly, the Paddington spur needed it.
I spent a few minutes on the phone while in Willow Tree Reserve and despite serious discussions about granite paving, I will admit to being a bit distracted by a cob aggressively and repeatedly waging territorial war on two disaffected Canada Geese. Someone had removed one of the signs and I took a slight detour which meant I saw what Tesco have done to Yeading (I'm not sure outsiders are supposed to) and I won't be going back. Of course, if I'd brought a decent map it might have been easier.
