25 September 2019

Well, who knew?

Emma’s score of 11 on the ADOS-II did reach the cut off for a diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD).

History 

Brief introductory blurb without over-sharing (actually, I realise it’s gone on a bit). As a lifelong sufferer from anxiety (and more intermittently, depression) I’ve consulted a variety of services over the years, but most recently (prior to last year) the NHS’ ‘Talking Therapies’ service, part of NHS England’s Improving Access to Psychological Therapies (IAPT) project. (Back in the day, a GP practice would often have one or more counsellors who worked with them, whereas this isn’t the case any more due to funding cuts. So on the surface it’s hard to see how access to therapies has improved, particularly for those who might fancy talking to an actual person as opposed to a voice on the telephone. Anyhoo. Much as I am in general quite fond of technology, the internet etc, I do feel that therapy is possibly one of those things that shouldn’t be moved online.)

TT is the first – indeed, the only – thing GPs will refer you to now if you present with anything short of extremely severe mental health problems. TT’s ‘entry level’ service seems intended as a breezy way to help sufferers from milder psychological conditions get back up to speed. In reality, the first-level offering means telephone sessions with a ‘Personal Wellbeing Practitioner’ (I know) who, in the case of the one I was assigned, is apparently sitting in a call centre and reading from a script. If the entry level sessions don’t work for you, you can get access to TT’s second level offering, which involves going on a waiting list to receive a set number of face to face sessions, still of CBT-style therapy but rather more tailored to your actual needs.

I had a number of sessions on this occasion with a PWP plus doing exercises on an online CBT program. I actually thought the program (‘SilverCloud’) was OK as far as it went (though the content is frequently banal: a typical multiple choice question would be: “When you feel anxious or low, is it best to a) ignore it and hope it goes away; b) talk about it with someone; c) drink heavily”), but was less satisfied with the general format of the sessions. As a consequence of feeding back fairly negatively, I did get a mollifying phone call with another woman, who after some discussion agreed to refer me on to their second level offering. I duly had a far more useful hour’s introductory session with a very nice young man, where I explained what I felt were issues. I returned for the next session to be told that he had spoken with his supervisor who had suggested that some of the issues I’d raised suggested possible Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and that I should be referred for an assessment. I was surprised but open to the idea, so agreed. This was in May 2017. When I still hadn’t made it anywhere near the top of the NHS waiting list by summer 2018, I cracked and decided to pay for a private assessment.

Finding reputable places that assess adults took a bit of research, but I eventually picked The Practice MK, partly because they also do NHS assessments as well as private ones and rightly or wrongly I took this as a good sign. They’re based at Warren Park, pretty much just down the road from my flat in Wolverton - which obviously wasn’t a strong reason to pick them, but still. Unfortunately, being registered out of the MK area I couldn’t be seen under the NHS but had already reluctantly signed away the quite large amount of money involved as a necessary price to pay.

The assessment

This was in two parts: an initial hour's consultation - at the end of which you get given an indication of whether the psychologist does think it's worth proceeding to a full ASD assessment - and then a longer session (a few weeks later, in the case of mine) which constitutes the main bit.

The initial consultation was an hour's ‘free talk’ session with a clinical psychologist, given over partly to me talking freely about issues that had led to my NHS referral, and partly to the psychologist asking questions at intervals. As is the way, I have no memory now either of the questions nor of what I said in reply. However, the upshot was that based on what I'd told her, she did feel that proceeding to a full diagnostic assessment would be a good idea.

The main assessment

A few weeks later I went for a full assessment of several hours with a Katherine Goodsell, Principal Forensic and Chartered Psychologist.
  • The ADOS 2
  • Stands for Autism Diagnostic Observation Schedule (Second Edition). This seems to have been the main test instrument, though The Practice stresses that they never reach a diagnosis based on just one instrument. 
    Katherine’s questioning began with some questions clearly designed to weed out whether I had any comorbid learning difficulties; I think after my somewhat offended response (and possible reference to my PhD) she was satisfied that I don’t. According to this NAS page the ratio of people on the spectrum who also have a learning disability, vs. those who don’t, is about half and half.  
    Parts of the ADOS 2 struck me as a bizarre instrument to use with adults – use of storytelling from pictures, etc – but it would appear to be a respected tool. According to The Practice, it's "considered as the 'gold standard' for observational assessment of autism spectrum disorder". It's used to - supposedly - gain insight into the individual's abilities in communication and reciprocal social interaction. 
    There are several ‘modules’ of the ADOS 2; Module 4 is the one used for adults. A total score is arrived at from the separate scores for Communication and Social Interaction. The cut-off for being counted as on the autistic spectrum is 7.

  • The Social Responsiveness Scale (SRS-2)
  • This was a questionnaire which I was asked to complete. I was also asked for someone who has known me for a good while – but not necessarily a parent – to also complete it, so asked Ray. Interestingly, both Ray’s and my versions came out almost the same in terms of scoring, though neither of us saw the other’s responses before they were submitted. The report blurb has it that both the informant and the self-report version of the SRS-2 “indicate that [Emma’s] overall score falls within the Moderate range. This suggests that she experiences deficiencies in reciprocal social behaviour that are clinically significant and lead to substantial interference with everyday social interactions. Such scores are typical for individuals with autism spectrum disorders of moderate severity.” I’m half-hoping that’s standardised wording as I do feel I manage slightly better than that implies.  
  • Sensory Profile
  • This included something called the Q-global questionnaire, which I completed online before the assessment. Apparently it’s testing for sensory issues. I actually remember nothing about the content of it. 
    The Sensory Profile works on four Sensory Quadrants. I scored ‘Much More Than Most People’ in both the Sensory Sensitivity and Sensation Avoiding quadrant.
    Individuals with Sensory Sensitivity have low neurological thresholds that cause them to respond readily to sensory stimuli. Behaviors associated with Sensory Sensitivity include distractibility and discomfort caused by intense stimuli. Advantages of Sensory Sensitivity include a high level of awareness of the environment and an ability to discriminate or attend to detail.
    Individuals who engage in Sensation Avoiding behaviors are overwhelmed or bothered by sensory stimuli. Consequently, sensation avoiders actively engage with their environments to reduce sensory stimuli. Advantages of Sensation Avoiding include the ability to create structure in environments that provide limited sensory stimuli, as well as a tolerance or enjoyment of being alone.

  • The Beck inventories
  • And a couple of old familiars: the Beck Anxiety Inventory (BAI): my T Score = 86 (Severe; an average is 50). This one wasn’t much of a surprise. And the Beck Depression Inventory (BDI): my T Score = 73 (Moderate). I’m guessing these are included because anxiety and/or depression are often comorbid with ASD – in particular, high functioning cases that have gone undiagnosed for quite a while (hello). In fairness, I think both of those scores should have gone down a bit thanks to getting an actual diagnosis.

The diagnosis

I went back to see Katherine a few weeks after the main session, where she gave me the outcome verbally, and advised that I'd get a full report in due course.

The cut off for an ASD diagnosis (in the ADOS 2) is evidently 8, with 12 the cut off for what would be formally termed ‘autism’ (the difference between autism and ASD is evidently a matter only of degree of severity of symptoms, rather than different symptoms). I scored 11. So I’m actually slightly weirder than I thought. Having reached 50 without a diagnosis and given that I’m holding down a reasonable job, I hadn’t necessarily expected to get a diagnosis of any sort.

Things that I hadn’t realised about myself, that are evidently consistent with ASD – but they’re the sorts of things you’d need someone else to point out:
  • Relatively monotonic speech;
  • Speech formal and precise; 
  • Limited range of facial expressions;
  • Erratic eye contact

Things that I did think, after a bit of reading up, were probably indicative, though the possibility wouldn’t have occurred to me until the IAPT service pointed it out:
  • Rather extreme dislike of changes of plan. (An example: I may have planned to leave the house hours early in order to take my time getting somewhere, not have to talk to anyone and have some time to recoup at the other end. Some jolly person might then suggest ‘Let’s leave three hours later than you’d planned and ALL GO TOGETHER’. Mental shutdown and possibly tears may result.); 
  • Go to some lengths to avoid crowds and noise;
  • Find more than one person talking at once excessively jarring;
  • Struggle when there are several people talking at once to pick out the strand of conversation, sometimes as if I had a hearing problem – except that I don’t;
  • Occasional what might be termed in autism-speak ‘meltdowns’ where I lose verbal capacity;
  • Extreme irritation with people who don’t follow the rules and/or act logically (though ‘logically’ may well translate as ‘how I think they ought to’)

There are a few others, which I’m not going to relate here in case they interfere with the more-or-less normal persona I like to present. Some of the ones I have listed should hopefully help to explain my decision not to bear children.

An additional view is that highly intelligent people can compensate for difficulties due to ASD by watching and learning from others and then applying. For obvious reasons, I rather like this one. The idea of performance in social situations having to be ‘learned’ makes some intuitive sense. Becoming more adept in social situations with age – as I certainly have – is also consistent, though I’d guess that’s not uncommon among the population in general.

Some musings

  • Asperger syndrome. There appears to be greater prestige attached by some individuals to a diagnosis of Asperger syndrome rather than autism (I’ve seen this termed ‘Aspie superiority’). My guess is that the term ‘Aspergers’ is associated more with brainy maths boffins and less with uncontrollable nonverbal children, so carries more appeal for your average adult of normal intelligence. It strikes me that it’s used as something of a proxy for ASD sufferers of normal-high intelligence, to distinguish them from other types. It’s no longer a diagnosis in the diagnostic framework that The Practice MK uses (the DSM-5), I gather because it was decided that it didn’t differ from other autism spectrum conditions enough to merit a whole separate name. I’m sure I’ve also seen it noted somewhere that the symptoms of Asperger syndrome were noted based solely on observations of men. Which leads on to:
  • Sex differences in rates of ASD/diagnoses of ASD. The view nowadays seems to be that women and girls are under-diagnosed, and that a female with the same degree of autistic symptoms as a male will often mask them better, possibly because of social conditioning that makes girls and women more concerned to fit in with their peers. That sounds potentially plausible, and I’d also perhaps add, less likely to be of a mindset that thinks they’re perfectly OK as they are so don’t need to change anything. I’m being slightly tongue-in-cheek on the latter bit, but I do think there’s something in both of those points. There’s a NAS page on ‘gender and autism’ – though it unfortunately branches off into talking about ‘gender identity’ which is a whole other can of worms. This page, though, is quite good, particularly the piece “How the public misunderstand autistic women” where some of the writer’s experiences chime with me. Also this is good, especially the bit ‘Girls blend in’. Also this.
  • Involvement of parents. As a middle-aged adult, this can be difficult for a number of reasons. One obvious one is that although I am lucky enough to have both parents still living, this isn’t going to be the case for every 50-something. Another more nuanced issue is how much frank use they would be if you took them along. This is partly due to what I suspected would be my mother’s (probably natural) reluctance to remember anything from my childhood as symptomatic of anything other than shyness, and partly because – not wanting to upset her – I would have been reluctant to remind her of specific behaviours and incidents which it’s pretty clear to me now did indicate autistic tendencies, but which she might not care to (or perhaps be able to) recall. Thankfully The Practice MK is geared towards diagnosing adults and didn’t require this. Not being a parent myself this is only speculation, but I’d guess that this sort of thing is difficult for parents as they have so much invested in the health and ‘normality’ of their children – or certainly for people of my parents’ generation; being diagnosed with this sort of stuff is a lot more familiar nowadays.
  • Savant syndrome. I wish. Rain Man has a lot to answer for. The term ‘autistic savant’ is no longer current as apparently only about half of cases of savant syndrome are also reckoned to be autistic, and SS itself is incredibly rare. It’s a nice thought, but no.
  • Great ability in maths, computer hacking etc. I was moderately good at maths at school – as in, I passed my O-level with a reasonable grade – but certainly no genius. Coding – now there’s something I do wish I’d been exposed to at school, but in my day (the 1980s) computer programming classes were a) much harder to access; b) dominated by boys of a particularly irritating know-it-all bent, if my school was anything to go by (it’s highly unlikely Simon Lyons and Nicholas Andrews are reading this blog, but I’ll refrain from naming them just in case. Oh. Whoops.). Thankfully for the sake of today’s girls, things have changed.
  • The view that We’re All On The Spectrum. I have some sympathy with this up to a point, as certain individual autistic traits have become well known (though several, like the supposed lack of empathy, are widely misinterpreted) and autism/ASD has acquired such a much higher profile over the last 20 years or so that it can seem as though everyone’s being diagnosed with it. Indeed, it can seem as though every second family has at least one autistic child, though obviously that’s not the case in reality. It’s much the same thing as saying “he’s a bit OCD”, in that it reflects a layman’s perception of what being OCD involves. (Just to clarify: ‘the spectrum’ refers to the spectrum of severity of symptoms displayed by people diagnosable with an autistic condition, not by everyone in the world.) 

Reactions from others

I’ve spoken about it directly with comparatively few people but generally, I’d say reaction of mild surprise but openness to the idea. Only one mildly irritating reaction, from a former colleague who launched into a speech about a former boss of hers at the OU who was DEFINITELY (in her view) ‘on the spectrum’ and who later challenged something I said with “Aha, but you’re not supposed to have empathy, are you?”.

The only quarter where there seems to have been no surprise whatsoever was Ray and his family. Before I got the official diagnosis, Ray said that he didn’t reckon there was any doubt about it, while his sister – the mother of the teen mentioned in the next section – evidently reacted to news of my diagnosis with something along the lines of “Well, duh”. Suspect it helps that they have direct experience of an autistic female themselves.

Late diagnosis

Was it worth going for an ASD assessment at 50? I’d say unequivocally yes – it’s mildly annoying that I had to pay for it in order to speed things up, but with hindsight I don’t begrudge the money.

It’s difficult not to have some envy for today’s youth whose ASD was spotted early on. One of Ray’s nieces, now in her mid-teens, was diagnosed in infants school and has attended ASD support groups from a young age and apparently has a support worker at her secondary school to whom she can go with any worries. By all accounts she seems to have turned out pretty well-adjusted, has some friends and has just taken her GCSEs.

But it’s highly unlikely I would have got a diagnosis as a child even if my parents had been concerned enough to have asked questions of professionals. My understanding from reading is that before the diagnostic criteria were widened and autism was re-classified as a spectrum condition, it would only have been children and young people with severe symptoms and, most likely, comorbid conditions (and most likely boys) who would have been diagnosed. This has it that the DSM-IV was the first version of the DSM to classify autism as a spectrum, and the DSM-IV was released in 1994, by which time I was 26.

Any annoyance surrounding my late diagnosis is directed mainly at the sequence of – in the main - half-arsed counsellors I’ve seen over the years, particularly those I’ve seen more recently when ASD was reasonably in the public consciousness. I’d seriously like to know what the hell qualifications most of them possess. After giving me my diagnosis, Katherine noted that some counselling might be helpful to assist me in processing it, but stressed that if I went for any more counselling, it should be with a counsellor who has experience of counselling people on the autism spectrum – the differences are I believe including around how questions should be phrased, etc. Of course, that meant that the easiest thing for me to do was to see one of The Practice’s own counsellors (they offer other services besides autism assessments) so it may have been in part a way of drumming up business for her own practice, but I have to say that the girl-woman with whom I’ve now had a number of sessions is one of a VERY small number of the counsellors I’ve seen whom I haven’t wanted to punch in the face. Which is a good start.

12 August 2019

Greensand Ridge walk, 16.7 miles

22 June 2019

Hai came up with the idea a while back of walking the Greensand Ridge, a 40-mile long distance trail that runs from Leighton Buzzard to the village of Gamlingay in Cambridgeshire. A small group of us – me, Matt, Hai and two of Hai’s friends from King’s College – tackled the first stretch on a Saturday in late June, intending to walk from Leighton Buzzard as far as the little station at Millbrook (slightly off the trail but we wanted to do the thing by public transport). It was a reasonably hot day and was in the peak of the hayfever season, making it a dubious decision on my part to go at all. Anyway. I fancied getting out for a walk with friends to reduce time spent sitting around, scrolling through social media etc, so went.

We took the train to Leighton Buzzard and walked the short distance to the canal to join the beginning of the trail. The route follows the canal for a bit before branching off across a meadow towards Heath and Reach and the Rushmere Country Park (where we got slightly lost). We passed Rammamere farm (where there was some particularly b*stard pollen) and scuttled across the A5. The trail passes through more fields and woods and turns east towards the village of Woburn. By the time we reached Woburn my hayfever was kicking in and I was becoming less enthusiastic about the whole idea. The trail branches off through a horrid field (not pictured) which was full of cut grass at the time we crossed it and where, to add insult to injury, Matt and Hai stopped in full sun for several minutes to have a look at the route.

We walked through many fields of this type

The trail crosses the Woburn estate, where we got good views of Woburn Abbey and the lake. After leaving the deer park, we sat down by a field to eat our lunch and apply suncream. We started up again and walked on through Eversholt and along some interminable-seeming bridleways. I was losing enthusiasm by this time and took advantage of a map stop to moot the idea that I might cut the walk short and walk to Ridgmont station, the nearest station on the Bletchley to Bedford line. I ended up being persuaded to continue as far as Lidlington, though by the time we got there I was lagging some way behind the others and feeling somewhat dehydrated, as well as itchy. Everyone else decided they were OK with finishing at Lidlington too, so we headed for the station, after having walked around 16.5 miles.

I was delighted to find that Lidlington has a village shop, where I bought more water and an ice cream, though none of the others seemed in need of either (curious, surely). We then unfortunately had about an hour’s wait for a train, though I suppose we were at least sitting down.

Woburn Abbey and lake

There turned out to have been a re-routing of the Greensand Ridge a few years ago, supposedly to avoid a dangerous road crossing on the A507, which means the current route, through Ridgmont, diverges from the route on the OS map. My companions were sufficiently purist to want to follow the original route, though this proved less than ideal and included a struggle through a particularly trying overgrown field and then a scramble through a hedge.

The walk pretty much knocked me out for the rest of the weekend – I don’t think I stopped feeling pollen-infested until Monday morning. Spent Sunday in my flat with the curtains drawn.

Our route shown in red - starting point in Leighton Buzzard at the bottom:

6 August 2019

Kelly's Kitchen

My eye was caught by a recent Motorway Services Online tweet referring to Kelly’s Kitchen, as I’d idly wondered how Kelly’s Kitchen roundabout, on the southern edge of MK had come by its name.


Kelly’s Kitchen was evidently a short-lived chain of roadside eateries, I assume along the lines of the Happy Eater and the Little Chef. The logo was evidently this cheery-looking lady. I’ve no memory of them, though that’s probably not surprising as it doesn’t sound as though they existed for very long. It sounds from the Motorway Services online article as though they were created as a rival to Little Chef, albeit not a very successful one as they were rapidly taken over and became LCs.

I had a look at Google Maps to see where this restaurant would have been. It was on the 'island' formed by the old alignment of the A5 (Watling Street), which goes through Fenny Stratford, and the newer dual carriageway, which bypasses it.

Kelly's Kitchen roundabout; black line shows alignment of old A5

As of today, Street View is still showing the boarded-up former Little Chef (and even more former Kelly's Kitchen) building, which was apparently closed and demolished in 2012 (according to this, it stopped being a Kelly's Kitchen in 1991). In reality, the building has now gone and there's a double-decker McDonalds on the site.



3 August 2019

Disused tube station outing

1 June 2019

Disused tube stations, eh? Who doesn’t love those. And disused railways, roads etc. Luckily Ray does too, so in early June we had a day in London checking out former tube station buildings. There are evidently all manner of below ground disused bits, but you have to go on special tours to see those, organized by the London Transport Museum’s ‘Hidden London’ programme.

We’d both watched a number of YouTube videos on the topic of old tube stations, in particular two engaging short films by Geoff Marshall (Part 1 below).



We got round five former stations over the course of the day, with stops/travelling in between.

1.   Marlborough Road 
In St John's Wood, on the junction of Finchley Road and Queen's Grove. We started the day with a second breakfast at Bill’s on Baker Street, and then walked north-west past Regents' Park and Lord's to locate this building. This station was closed in 1939 following the construction of some new deep-level then-Bakerloo (now Jubilee) Line tunnels and subsequent re-routing of trains through them. This page has a photo of the station when it was in use as a passenger station, and in its later incarnation as a Chinese restaurant. According to the Wikipedia entry, it now houses some sort of substation; Geoff Marshall's video also notes that it's used as an emergency escape route from the Underground (as many of these old buildings seem to be).



2.  Hyde Park Corner
HPC tube station does obviously still exist, but it no longer has any above-ground buildings. The building went out of use in the early 1930s when a sub-surface ticket hall was built. It's now part of the Wellesley Hotel. Apparently, there's an emergency stairway inside that connects to the platforms. Difficult to find a photo of the old station building in use, but someone has posted on Flickr a still from a 1930 film showing it.

The building, like a number of tube stations, was designed by architect Leslie Green. The 'ox-blood' red tiles are characteristic of Green's stations.


3. Brompton Road
Further down Knightsbridge. It's on a quiet side street near the Brompton Oratory - took us a while to locate it. This one was closed in 1934. It was subsequently owned by the Ministry of Defence up until 2014, when it was apparently sold to a private buyer.


4.  Down Street
Down another side street, this one off Piccadilly. Closed in 1932. Apparently used as a bunker by Churchill and his War Cabinet during WWII.


5. York Road 
This one's behind King's Cross, so a bit of a journey from the previous three. Before visiting it, we had a delicious lunch in Kimchee, part of the posh new development there.

Amazing what you don't notice. I must have walked past this building before, but clearly never clocked that it was a former station. This one closed in 1932. Its re-opening seems to have been discussed as part of the King's Cross Central project, but it's hard to imagine that this is likely in reality.



All five of the stations we visited - or station building, in the case of Hyde Park Corner - were closed in the 1930s, so there was evidently some sort of programme of changes that went on then.

The day we went was a particularly fine day – in fact so warm that I tried out my first ever iced latte.

9 April 2019

Running

A redway
Running. Until this winter, I’d barely run since school and in recent years had dismissed running as the preserve of strange sinewy obsessives who wanted to collapse prematurely from a heart attack/have to have a hip replacement at 50. The fact that several keen runners I have known always seemed to be nursing injuries didn’t help. However, this January I threw previous reservations to the wind and joined a beginners' running course run by Milton Keynes-based club Redway Runners, an impressively well-organised outfit of over 2000 members. The name of the club refers to the mixed-use recreational dark red-tarmacked paths that criss-cross MK.

The motivation was a desire to improve my cardio fitness, prompted partly by the struggle I’d had getting up Snowdon last June. While I do walk regularly, and walking is great, there’s only so much I can do to stretch myself sufficiently several times a week as Milton Keynes is relatively flat. As I don’t like gyms and can never really seem to get going with cycling, and as a number of people at work had recommended the Redway Runners, I decided to give them a go, so signed up for the 6pm Tuesday course starting the second week in January.

Although I didn't manage to attend every session, I attended most of them and found the group leads very encouraging, particularly Lisa C who was often responsible for the 'tail' and assured me that the coolest place to be was at the back (just as well). The club operates a great system for beginners runs – as well as somebody leading, there’s always a tail runner to ensure no one is left behind, and faster runners have to ‘loop back’ if the group gets too spread out to allow the group to bunch back together.

Redway Runners January 2019 beginners 'graduation' - me circled

The 10-week ‘course’ ended with the group – as well as all the other beginners groups; there were 6 or 7 – doing the Milton Keynes 5K parkrun on Saturday 30th at Willen Lake. Hai had kindly offered a while back to run with me, which worked quite well though I suspect she might have liked to go faster at certain points. My priority, however, was maintaining a constant slow speed with the intention of avoiding having to walk – albeit that the group leaders had assured us beforehand that it didn’t matter if we did have to walk bits. In the event, I managed to get the whole way round without walking, which I was very pleased about.

My time – I’m not proud – was 45 minutes. Never come 840th in anything before. I was cheered to learn that there were evidently 63 people who came AFTER me, though realise some of them may have been walking the route.


A number of photos were taken, most of the ones I've located highly unflattering. Here's one such.

Very taken with the parkrun idea. The Milton Keynes parkrun is a pleasant single-lap route taking in the canal broadwalk, passing the Peace Pagoda and then doing a circuit of Willen Lake. Planning to have a go at the Reading parkrun this coming weekend.

Redway Runners have a whole load of group runs every week, aimed at runners of varying speeds. There are 'step up' runs several times a week for newly-graduated beginners, plus 'gentle step ups' for those of a particularly sedate speed (40+ minutes parkrun time). I've already been out on a couple of the latter and quite enjoyed them. The club seems to have runners of a whole range of ages, sizes and speeds, which is really encouraging. I had some reservations about taking up running at 50 but so far all seems good, and I am mindful of not rushing into it headlong and overdoing it (frankly that's not all that likely; I have no problem in adopting a 'moderation' approach to exercise, unlike to, say, chocolate biscuits). My boss Judith started running only around 10 years ago and is now a keen triathlete who has won her age category at the Ironman Wales for the past two years. I’ve no intention of doing triathlons, but it’s certainly encouraging to know that you can safely take up running at any age.

2 April 2019

Walk in Maidenhead, about 5 miles

Sunday 10 March

Another walk with Ray. We'd actually planned a while back to do the route of the Maidenhead Boundary Walk, a circular walk of about 14 miles, but wimped out of that. We also had to make an early diversion to Ray's employer's property to remove some branches from the road after a tree had fallen in the heavy winds. After that we went over to Norden Farm for a cup of tea and a sit down - I'm sure I remember there being a much better cake selection the last time we were there, but on this occasion had to content myself with a Stroopwafel.

After refreshments, we parked on Bridle Road and turned down Harrow Road past Furze Platt station (a stop on the branch line between Maidenhead and Marlow) and what was the Farmers Boy pub, now closed. Came out onto Cookham Road almost opposite the parade of shops that used to contain a Ritz Video, where Ray and I rented a LOT of Star Trek Deep Space Nine episodes at one point in the past. Turned right onto Garretts Lane, which soon becomes a footpath leading onto North Town Moor. We followed footpaths for a while before coming out onto Ray Mill Road West.

This part of Maidenhead has a whole heap of roads with ‘Ray’ in the title: Ray Mill Roads West and East; Ray Park Avenue, Ray Lea Road, Ray Drive, Ray Street; the charmingly-named In The Ray. There’s a biggish house Ray Lodge, now converted into flats. I lived briefly (before falling out with the other tenants) at Ray Lodge Mews in the early 1990s. A brief bit of digging suggests that ‘Ray’ was the surname of a once-prominent local family.

We walked to Boulter's Lock and crossed over onto Ray Mill Island (there the Rays are again). I didn’t know, but there’s been quite a bit of development here on this stretch between the Thames and the new(ish) Jubilee River – there’s a new footbridge and a shedload of new houses and flats ('Taplow Riverside'). As well as all the housing there are also some nice new pedestrian walkways. We spent quite a while mooching around here.

The new footbridge
Walkway and the Jubilee River
Housing at Taplow Riverside

We walked past what used to be Skindles and is now posh new housing and a posh-looking restaurant called ‘Roux at Skindles’. When I lived in Maidenhead in the early 1990s it housed the Studio Valbonne nightclub, where I clubbed a few times in the days when I did such things. The club’s heyday was way before my time; this source has some interesting snippets about its glamorous history. The new Roux restaurant's Skindles History page notes that ‘in the 1990s, Skindles became a rundown venue hosting discos’ which sounds about right from my memory. It closed in the mid-1990s and the building stood empty for 20 years before being bought up for redevelopment.

We walked into the town centre via Guards Club Park. Access to the island is closed at this time of year because of nesting birds. We had lunch at Funkywood.

The footbridge leading to Guards Club Island

Our route shown in red. It doesn't show as circular because I stopped the tracker when we stopped for lunch.


But here's the rest of it. After leaving the restaurant we walked through Maidenhead's uninspiring town centre (though it's not as bad as Bedford's), across Kidwells Park and along roads back to Ray's car.


24 March 2019

Walk around Burchetts Green and Littlewick Green, 8.5 miles

Saturday 12 January

Weekend walk with Ray, christening the ’50 Walks in Berkshire and Buckinghamshire’ book that I’d bought myself for Christmas (have definitely reached middle age). We ended up combining two walks in the book: the ‘Around Burchetts Green’ walk and the ‘Littlewick Green and Maidenhead Thicket’ walk.

We parked again at the Butterfly Trail car park and joined the walk route at Robin Hood’s Arbour. Maidenhead Thicket was, apparently, notorious for highwaymen in olden times, and at one time outlaws in general were apparently known as ‘Robin Hoods’. Robin Hood’s Arbour is an Iron Age earthwork. Ray reminisced somewhat bitterly about how, as a small boy, he had been sold a longish walk to RHA under the guise of its being a ‘fort’, which had led him to expect battlements, drawbridges etc, rather than underwhelming humps and ditches.


We followed the path to Stubbings House Lodge, crossed the road and followed the footpath across fields to the posh village of Burchetts Green. We crossed the road by The Crown and headed up Hall Place Lane. We stopped briefly by a large white house called the Dower House for Ray to Google what this actually meant – it seems that the term referred to the house on an estate that was gifted to the widow of the estate owner after he had died, presumably to allow her eldest son to move into the big house. Doesn’t seem a bad deal.

House with dovecote, Burchetts Green

At the end of the lane, we crossed a field and headed down the drive towards Hall Place, a red-brick Georgian mansion that forms the centrepiece of the Berkshire College of Agriculture.

Crossing a field
Hall Place

We skirted round to the right of Hall Place and walked along North Drive to the statue of Diana, before turning briefly left and then right across fields towards woodland (High Wood). We continued through the small wood to its end where the book told us to enjoy the views north over the Thames Valley, so we did briefly. Then back through more of the grounds of BCA where we turned right and passed the Dew Drop Inn before entering Ashley Hill Forest.

Walking through High Wood
Ray by a carved wooden thing
In Ashley Hill Forest

There seems to be a single house at the top of Ashley Hill, an isolated property by UK standards. As a lad, Ray used to be friendly with the son of the landlord of the Dew Drop Inn, and he and this boy would then enjoy exploring around what was then apparently some sort of abandoned hunting lodge. It’s clearly been rebuilt since then as a large though architecturally uninteresting private house. I took a picture of its gates.

Gates to 'Clifton'
Aerial view of Ashley Hill, showing 'Clifton'

We came down Ashley Hill by a different path and made our way back to Burchetts Green. From there, we made our way south, crossing the A4, to the village of Littlewick Green. Have driven past signs to this village for over 20 years but never been in to the village before. It’s very attractive. We stopped at The Cricketers for a light lunch.

Littlewick Green

After lunch, we headed south out of the village and turned left along a tarmac track running alongside fields, coming out on Cherry Garden Lane. Turned left and headed north back to the A4 and then through the Thicket back to the car.

Our route shown in red: