Task 3: Go by boat to the Thames Barrier

Although I admire the Thames Barrier as being both functional and stylish, those sinister metal hoods have always given me the creeps. The idea of getting close to them in a boat rather than on dry land is even more scary, as it would make me feel decidedly vulnerable as they loom closer. Being travel sick, going anywhere by boat is my least favourite form of transport. I can - and have been - sick on shore simply looking at the waves. So for several reasons this trip was not one I was looking forward to.

As Peter and I were at the bus stop, about to set off, I realised I'd forgotten to bring my travel sickness wrist bands and tablets. I couldn't be bothered to go back and get them, and doubted anyway that it was necessary - after all, it was only a river trip, not a voyage on the open sea. Big mistake.

After coffee in Richmond we had an easy journey by tube to Westminster and then straight to the Thames River Services pier. With our travel cards, which give you a 50% reduction, it was remarkably cheap at only £8.50 each for a three hour round trip. Arriving at noon, we had half an hour to wait for the next boat, so plenty of time to ponder what was in prospect and to imbibe the fumes of two river cruisers next to the open door of the waiting room:

At least we had the advantage of being first in the queue and therefore able to choose our seats when we boarded. With no rain forecast and keen to get the best view - if I was going to face the fear of seeing the Barrier up close, I wanted to go the whole hog - we went right to the front, on the upper deck:

There was an entertaining and interesting commentary by one of the crew members all the way there, highlighting how much the Thames riverside has changed in the last 30 years, with massive high-rise housing development - much of it bought by foreign investors. When I was about three and my brother seven, my parents took us on a similar trip and looking at the old cine film, I can see how the docks were still active and the river alive with tugs, barges and other boats plying their trade. Now it's almost deserted, apart from the Clipper water buses and a few river cruisers.

It was fascinating seeing the remaining old buildings from an entirely different perspective and learning more about the role of the Thames in providing transport, trade and employment. Execution Dock provides a grim reminder of criminal justice in the past, while by contrast Helen Mirren has a beautiful Georgian 15 bedroomed house right on the waterfront at Wapping. Not far from there we saw a seal swimming in the river, which was an unexpected pleasure.

The trip would have been enjoyable, if it hadn't been for the prospect of nearing the Barrier and my increasing nausea. By the time we reached Greenwich, I was feeling so travel sick that I asked Peter if he could get me a brandy from the bar, as I'd remembered that my friend Kathy used to find that helped. In my case it didn't. And then I got my first sight of our destination:

It didn't improve as we drew closer. Those gleaming metal hoods were looking increasingly sinister:

At this point my anxiety levels were clearly rising:

Now we were almost alongside and I found it less scary, as I could see more of the construction and how the system worked:

I also reminded myself that many years ago, while I was working in the Industry/Education Unit in the then Department of Trade and Industry, where one of our aims had been to encourage more girls to take up a career in engineering, I had had a meeting with a young woman working as a civil engineer on the Barrier. She had been engaging and likeable, and definitely not someone who had gone to the dark side.

Largely completed in 1982 and officially opened in 1984, the Barrier when raised is as high as a 5-storey building. It's sobering to think that it has already been deployed almost 180 times - and last winter it was unable to prevent localised flooding in Greenwich and Kew. Each of the individual 10 gates can be raised within 10 minutes, but it takes an hour and a half to get the entire Barrier raised and fully in position.

As we went past it, I found myself feeling quite relaxed about a structure that was there for our protection and had amply proved its effectiveness:

Unlike the passengers sitting behind me, who were Spanish and feeling the cold, I was relatively chirpy:

Many of us, I imagine, were wondering what happens to the land on the eastern side of the Barrier, when it has been raised. Do they get inundated? Normally not, as the height of the defensive walls lining the river bank has been increased to provide the same level of protection as for the area to the west. 

As we approached the Barrier from the rear and looked towards the city, it was striking how vulnerable it would be to devastating flooding if the Barrier didn't exist:

By now, my pleasure at having completed another challenge was rapidly being overtaken by nausea:

I was feeling pretty awful and my discomfort increased when we arrived back at Westminster Pier, only to find there was a queue for a docking space and we had to drift to and fro for nearly half an hour, once again breathing in the fumes from the other boats. Luckily I just made it home before being copiously sick. It took over a day to get back to anything like normal - although I still can't face the prospect of having a martini, which must mean I'm still not right. On the other hand, a day of abstinence is probably no bad thing.

I would definitely do this trip again, as there's a lot to see and I'd like to look round Greenwich, as it's quite a few years since I last wandered around that area. Given the recent rate of development, it would be interesting to see how the river front changes over the next five years or so. Next time, though, I would be tanked up with Avomine and sporting my travel sickness bands!