The Oldie

The River Roding runs through it

It is difficult to identify when a humdrum stroll beside the thirdmightiest river in London turned magical.

It may have been on my finding a small forest of illicitly planted trees. It could have been when I stepped over a low wall onto a path through the nettles - a respectable walk turned into a trespass.

But in truth, it was the moment I met my walking companion,

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