September 5 and 6. Let the walking begin…not to mention…a mother’s best laid plans evaporating.

The plan was to catch the bus from High Street in Plumstead, get off at Woolwich Arsenal, then walk down to the dock to catch the Uber boat to take us to London Bridge pier, and then a 5 minute walk to Southwark Cathedral.  We get to the bus stop, surrounded by humanity, and someone realized they had dropped their credit card. A race back to the house but no luck. So a quick call to Mastercard to cancel the card and make arrangements to have a new one couriered here. Luckily one of our accommodations agreed to receive it.  But we missed the boat, had to wait almost an hour, and what should have been a 1030 am start turned into 130. So…we only got as far as Greenwich Meridian and decided to train home as it was getting late and we still needed to pack up Rawley the Trolley.

The long walk / pilgrimage walk / death march / pub crawl begins.

Thousands of little birds suspended from the church ceiling. Stunning!

I continue my pilgrimage tradition of lighting candles for special people in the many cathedrals and churches we come across.

These three candles are for Ethel, who is so bravely facing her battle for life, for Mary Ann OG whose positivity brings me joy (and something to aspire to) and Mam Mary Fish, because I know it will make her day!

Our new favourite pub. The Angel has been around this site for 400 years!!!

Beggar swans. Had a hissy fit when I had nothing food for them.

The Cutty Sark (fast tea clipper) and a ship in a bottle.

Peter made a new friend in the neighborhood!

September 6.

Got a much quicker start on Saturday, out the door around 900 am.  14 km to Dartford. We didn’t follow the official Francigena Brittannica pathway as we are still getting our pilgrim legs and it was about 5 km longer.  Got into town before 300 pm, which left plenty of time for naps and a trip to the model store. Lots of hills today (yuck) but also many green spaces. But too much street walking and Peter was disturbed by the amount of trash everywhere.  Almost as bad as Italy.

Apologies for the duplicate. If I try to remove it, all the pictures get messed up. Very frustrating 

Scott had a full English breakfast… for lunch.

This was the site of a silk factory from the 1600s. Apparently they would mix Madder plant roots with cow dung to help the dyes set. The owners house was on the top of the hill (for the view) and the cows hung out down below.  It’s a park now…with no cows.
Not this one.
Apparently I can have this one.
Mick Jagger was born here in Dartford.

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