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f all the journeys I expected to go on this year, a pilgrimage to Totteridge, the penultimate stop on the Northern Line, certainly wasn’t one of them. It’s in N20. In a postcode pub quiz, I couldn’t have told you as a lifelong Londoner that there were 20 Ns.
With the current travelscape, it does an admirable job of plugging the long-haul gap. Famous residents of Totteridge over the years have included Sir Cliff Richard, Arsene Wenger and Des O’Connor. But I’m not here to see any of them. I’m here to see a resident much more longstanding: The Totteridge Yew. The oldest tree in London, coming in at 1,000 to 2,000 years old.
Forget trainspotting, this is treespotting, a travel pursuit that’s seen me swap aeroplanes for London Planes. I’m surprised how heady a pastime being a tree tourist proves. Unfurling my copy of the Great Trees of London, a satisfyingly old school tree treasure map showcasing 50 of the capital’s top trees, it’s a proper baptism by bark. There’s a basic delight to spending the day navigating by map not app.
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