Riverside Walk Kingston Kingston Upon Thames

Right, let’s talk about Kingston upon Thames. Not the Caribbean island, though you might be forgiven for getting sand in your shoes. I’m talking about the one where Henry VIII spent his childhood, and where you can now buy a pretzel the size of your head. The star of the show, however, isn’t the king or the pretzel. It’s the Riverside Walk, a glorious stretch of path that pretends you’ve escaped London without actually leaving your postcode.

The Great Escape (for £2.80 on the bus)

You don’t need a plane ticket to feel like you’re on holiday. This walk runs right along the Thames, from Kingston Bridge all the way up to Teddington Lock. It’s the kind of place where office workers come to forget their spreadsheets and families pretend they’re in a Jane Austen novel, except with more Lycra and screaming toddlers. The secret is that the river actually smells better than the Tube—which, let’s be honest, is a very low bar.

My favourite part? You can hear the water lapping against the banks. It’s deeply calming, until a swan hisses at you for not sharing your crisps. Swans are the mafia of the bird world. Don’t make eye contact.

A Brief History Lesson (with Jokes)

Kingston is historically important—it’s where Saxon kings were crowned. Yes, actual royalty stood here, probably complaining about the weather in Old English. The Riverside Walk even passes the Coronation Stone, a lump of rock that looks like a rejected prop from a Flintstones episode. Legend says it’s been here since 900 AD. My gran has a sofa that old.

Fun fact: the river used to be a major trade route. Barges full of wool, timber, and cheese would chug past. Today, the most dangerous cargo is Instagram influencers hanging off the railing for a “courageous” photo. Watch your step.

The Icons: Swans, Rowers, and the Infamous Cigarette Boat

You’ll see rowers. Lots of them. They’re like human lawnmowers, powering past in sleek boats, grunting like they’re auditioning for a gym commercial. They make it look easy. If you try rowing yourself, you’ll find it’s basically back-breaking terror on water. Stick to watching them from the pub bench. There’s also the Cigarette Boat—that loud, obnoxiously fast speedboat that zips past everyone. It’s the river equivalent of a guy revving his engine outside a school. Just nod and pretend you’re impressed.

And then there are the swans. Kingston has a ton of them, because the Thames is the Queen’s official swan nursery. I’m not joking; the Crown owns all unmarked mute swans on the river. So if you hit one with a bread roll, you’re technically committing high treason. That’ll get you a royal pardon or a prison cell. Your call.

Where to Stop: The Pubs of Eternal Happiness

The Riverside Walk is dotted with pubs so old they probably saw Henry VIII take a leak in the river. The Druid’s Head is a personal favourite—it’s been around since 1600 and has a door so low you’ll have to duck like a sitcom character. Inside, you’ll find real fires, real ale, and real arguments about whether the Thames is “romantic” or “just wet.”

My advice? Grab a pint of Kingston Gold and sit outside. Watch the boats go by. Watch a swan steal a child’s chip. This is how you do Kingston. If you spill your drink, just say “it’s for the river gods.” The locals will nod approvingly.

The Surprise Hit: Teddington Lock

If you walk all the way to Teddington Lock, you get a spectacular reward. The lock is a massive gate that lifts boats from one water level to another. It’s basically a lift for boats. People sit and watch it for hours, which sounds boring until you see a 50-foot barge rise out of the water like a submarine. It’s the most British thing ever—watching machinery with a cup of tea and a puzzled face.

And here’s the surprise: the lock marks the end of the tidal Thames. Upstream, the river is fresh water. Downstream, salt. So you can technically say you’ve walked to the edge of the ocean. Or just say you walked to a really nice café. Both are true.

The Verdict: Go, But Bring Snacks

The Riverside Walk is perfect for a lazy Sunday, a first date, or pretending to be a poet. It’s accessible, picturesque, and full of swans that will judge your life choices. Wear comfortable shoes. Do not feed the swans soggy bread unless you want to be featured on the local news as “the one who started a waterfowl riot.”

In summary: Kingston’s Riverside Walk is a slice of countryside cunningly disguised as a commuter town. It’s Henry VIII’s backyard, a rower’s paradise, and a swan’s kingdom. Go for the history, stay for the chips, and leave before the herons steal your phone. You’ll thank me later. And if you see a bloke in tight cycling shorts eating a Pret sandwich, that’s definitely me. Buy me a drink, I’ll tell you which swan to avoid.