This week I am taking my class for a walk along a short stretch of the Trent, we will take the tram to the train station, our glorious red brick, Victorian, layer cake train station. From there we will pass the canal (industrial artery of a by gone age), then stroll along a plane tree clad boulevard towards the river. We will pass through the Meadows, back to back terraces that hide a secret. How many know this area is built on stilts; that the water ways still pass under many parts of the housing.
From here we look down the great, meandering course of the River Trent itself.
Turn and stroll away from the bridge, the bank is a wide grass verge and more plane trees to give us shade. The plane tree is a sign of the city,valued for its ability to take the pollution out of the air, through its leaves and into its bark. The tree is then able to quarantine this pollution and shed the poisons and cleaning the air. They are the lungs and filter of industrial England.
We can then turn about and join the canal, returning our feet towards the station where our carriage awaits to take us home. This is a very different watercourse, man-made and industrial, dirty and less loved.
After this we can return to the terraces and town, here we once again cross the water meadow; flood defence against the rising water. As we walk we can see the iconic buildings that make up the city skyline, some old, some new.
Finally, after passing the castle (that isn't a castle anymore), the tax offices and the skyline shapes of the church towers and council house dome, we reach the station once more.
With thanks to my husband, Tim, for the wonderful photographs.