Essex walk 2: The River Crouch // Nothing to see here

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Way back when, Facebook was fun and for me, really quite addictive. It got to the stage where every time I did something funny/stupid (mainly stupid, it must be said), I would instantly think about how I could write about it on Facebook.

Fortunately, way back then I did a lot of stupid things, so I always had something to post. Then Facebook quickly became crap and after a few years I weaned myself off this totally pointless habit.

Then I started this photo blog thing, which seemed like a good idea at the time. That was until last week, when I found myself walking a very long stretch of the River Crouch in Essex. For the entire route all I could think about was how I could make the walk sound interesting, or better still, funny.

It was the Facebook problem all over again. Only now, I didn’t have an endless supply of stupidity to fall back on. It was just me, walking along the banks of a river on a chilly and overcast day, on what turned out to be probably my least favourite section of the entire Essex coastline. I mean, it was pleasant and all that, with some nice views, but really, there wasn’t a whole lot to write about.

Of course, I could just not bother posting anything at all. I’ve already done that once. Following a walk last month along the Thames from Crayford to Erith, I wrote and re-wrote a few paragraphs until I sensibly decided that no one ever needed to read any of it.

I don’t want to keep doing that though, so I will quickly explain the only vaguely interesting thing that happened on my latest walk.

Right at the beginning, I saw a sign pointing to the HMS Beagle. I was vaguely aware that this was an old ship that was important to our history, but fuck knows why. A few hundred metres later, I came across a shiny new information board, proudly proclaiming that in front of me were the remains of the HMS Beagle, the ship that Charles Darwin famously took on a five-year voyage when he came up with all that clever stuff about the origins of species and all that malarkey.

I looked out at the damp, misty view ahead of me and saw... well, just a lot of damp mist really, plus a vast expanse of mud and water. There was definitely no ship to be seen. I read some more. The ship was in fact buried beneath the mud and wasn’t even visible at low tide. So there was, quite literally, nothing to see here.

(I’ve since done a little more research and found out that the ship was possibly never even buried in the mud, that it was possibly sold and towed away from the spot where I was standing, so really, the highlight of the walk was as good as non-existent.)

I did manage a few fair-to-middling photos though, so please take a look at them. They’re mainly of mud and water, stuff you’ve seen on here before, only not quite as good this time. Sorry.

And on that apologetic note, that’s it. Only to say that if everything works out as it should, by the time I write my next blog, I will be the proud owner of a crumbling East London house that I won’t be able to move into for a year. Oh, and the blog will be about wanking on the Isle of Sheppey.

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Now, the plan was to end this blog on that last, somewhat provocative statement. I was going to just leave it there, hanging, safe in the knowledge that if anyone has actually made it this far (unlikely, I know), then they will have just done a massive double-take. Quite clever, I thought. That will build up anticipation (and possibly fear) for the next blog.

Then it occurred to me that some smart arse (I can guess who) would message me to say there’s a hilarious typo right at the end of the blog, that obviously I meant to say ‘walking on the Isle of Sheppey’. I mean, the blog is about walking and even the spell checker keeps trying to correct it.

So I just want to categorically state here and now that there is no typo (as if!) and that the next blog, if my plans do come to fruition, will indeed be about wanking on the Isle of Sheppey.

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A grey, dull, misty start to the walk. I like photos like this though, of nothing much in particular.

Definitely not the HMS Beagle, although it was pretty close to where the Beagle possibly is. I like photos of long-abandoned boats and other machinery, like whatever this thing was. There are a lot of them along the coastline and the rivers of Essex.

See, it wasn't long before I came across an abandoned boat on the marshes by Paglesham Pool.

Some more long-lost things, sunk in the still waters of Lion Creek. I'm not sure if it was a boat or not though.

Another of my favourite subjects of photos, abandoned buildings.

High tide on the River Crouch.

I was tempted to make the walk sound more exciting than it was by saying this was a bridge I had to cross, but it wasn’t, so I didn’t, and I haven’t.

I really want to take the perfect photo of a lone tree in a field. This clearly isn’t that photo. I’ve seen similar(ish) photos by proper photographers, and I love them. I will keep looking for the right tree though, and I promise I will only post another shot of a lone tree in a field if it’s better than this one.

Similarly, I love photos of water snaking its way through the mud at low tide. Again, I will only post a similar photo if it's clearly better than this one.

Yes, I did duck, just in case.

Paglesham to Battlebridge: 31 March 2026 // Distance walked: A rather long 30.48km // Elevation gain: 26metres

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