Hooray, we've been allowed to get out and about in a group again, though for how long it's uncertain. Apparently we'll be informed on Wednesday whether London is going to have extra restrictions placed on us in the run-up to Christmas. In the meantime, let's enjoy!

:

A mudfest followed by a late-in-the-day sunshine stunner on Gavin's 17.9-miler in the green spaces south of Croydon
PHOTOS Gavin Fuller

You'll never walk alone - helpful scarecrows on Bola's  18-miler from Westhumble to Holmewood
PHOTO Bola Baruwa

*

I managed to get in a long midweek walk with Rob White, who some of you met on The Spurs Way a while back. We're in the process of putting together another Spurs-themed walk, this one planned to take place in May next year to celebrate the 60th anniversary of their 1960-61 Double (for all you non-football fans out there, this was the then unprecedented feat of winning the League and the FA Cup in the same season). Among the sites we'll be visiting are what used to be the butcher's shop run by flying Welsh winger Cliff Jones and what used to be the headquarters of the Sunday Express in Fleet Street where captain Danny Blanchflower was a sports reporter and columnist.

The high spot of last week's walk was visiting the memorial to the right-back Peter Baker, a team-mate and friend of Rob's dad John White. John, known as the Ghost of White Hart Lane, was killed by lightning on Crews Hill golf course when Rob was six months old.  After John died, Peter was one of the Spurs players who became something of a stand-in dad to Rob. He was a lovely man, tall, blond and handsome, a keen cricketer and former schoolboy athletic prodigy who also played junior Wimbledon and squash for Middlesex. His enthusiasm for taking part in other sports in his free time was such that in the early days of his marriage his wife, Linda, threw all his kit and equipment out of the window after the ruination of one too many Sunday roasts. Linda (pictured below) met us at the Oakley Memorial Gardens, and took us back to her flat for a cup of tea and a raid on the Quality Street tin. 

Linda Baker (and me) at Peter's memorial
PHOTO Rob White

We also stopped at Crews Hill Golf Club to remember Rob's dad. 

And finally...

A bit of walking-related music to take us through what might be a few solitary weeks.  The first is the famous aria from Handel's Semele and, in a switch of mood to get everyone stomping, the second is that classic by The Pretenders. 

Where'er you walk

I'm gonna be (500 miles)