Mudlarking

I had often squinted over the railings at the muddy foreshore of the Thames and speculated on what I might find there.  So when Sharon told me she sometimes went mudlarking (like beachcombing, but along the Thames), I asked if I could come. 

To introduce some dramatic tension, this was the week when the police made an announcement about the man who had deplorably thrown corrosive liquid over his wife and daughters. His body was thought to be somewhere in the Thames.

We went with a licensed guide.  She could identify all the different animal bones which littered the mud, but asked 'Please don't find any human remains as it involves too much paperwork. Haha!'

Those of us who had been listening to the news exchanged furtive worried glances.

Between us, Sharon and I found pottery from the Mediaeval, Tudor, Georgian and Victorian eras, a metal hook from a boat, and large chunks of eighteenth century wine bottles. In fact, almost everything on the foreshore was an artefact of human habitation in one way or another.

My favourite find was a small square of Roman tile (centre of the pic below). The tile had been left on the ground to dry before being baked in a kiln and, while there, a cat had walked across it. Maybe 1600 years later, its paw print was still clearly visible. Magic.

And to our immense relief, no grim discoveries!