Hiding in Hyde

Hyde Park


Embraced by nearly 4,000 trees and lounging beside the lake cafe, horses, roller blades and bikes pass by. It is easy to forget I'm in the middle of London.

Henry VIII acquired Hyde Park from the monks of Westminster Abbey in 1536; he and his court were often to be seen on thundering steeds in the hunt for deer. It remained a private hunting ground until James I came to the throne and permitted limited access.
In 1665, the year of the Great Plague, many citizens of London fled the City to camp on Hyde Park, in the hope of escaping the disease.

Hyde Park has found itself often the center of the film industry. The world's first moving pictures were filmed near Apsley Gate one morning in January 1889 by a British inventor, William Friese Greene.

The park had a starring role in 'Genevieve' (1953), the film about the annual London to Brighton classic car race, which still begins at Hyde Park. Rotten Row, at the southern edge of the park, was in the opening credits of 'Around the World in Eighty Days', the 1956 adaptation of the Jules Verne novel. Many Hollywood greats appeared in this film, including David Niven, Noel Coward, Frank Sinatra, Sir John Gielgud and Trevor Howard.
'The Ipcress File' (1965), the thriller starring Michael Caine as Harry Palmer, used a bench on Rotten Row as the location for clandestine meetings. It also filmed beneath the park to make what's said to be cinema's first ever scene in an underground car park. Rotten Row was also where Glenda Jackson was taught to play baseball by George Segal in 'A Touch of Class' (1973), a film for which she won the 2nd of her two Best Actress Oscars.
More recently, South Carriage Drive was used in 'Johnny English' (2003), starring Rowan Atkinson, Natalie Imbruglia and John Malkovich.

We wandered around watching the stiff Londoners being transformed into lively lovers and friends. Old men playing chess beside the lake. Women gossiping over coffe under the cover of silent trees. Children chaing squirrels and pigeions. Health enthusiasts sweating their way along the paths.
A kindly tree lifted its branches and invited Anna and I under her leaves. It was a dark tree-cathedral, quiet and solemn. The bark bore scars from uncaring vistors scratching their names into her flesh. We snapped a picture (below) and whispered our thanks.