Why Rivers Make the Finest Picnic Tables

There is a reason the riverside picnic has never gone out of fashion. A river does the hard work for you. It provides a flat bank to sit on, the sound of moving water to cover the traffic, and a reliable supply of shade trees that have been growing in exactly the right place for a hundred years. Add a path that runs gently alongside it, and you have a walk that ends in lunch without ever feeling like a route march.

Riverside paths also have a natural rhythm. You walk for forty minutes, you come to a weir or a lock or an old stone bridge, and the path widens out into a grassy shelf. It is almost as though someone planned it. In practice, these flat spots exist because generations of anglers, lock keepers and cattle have worn them into the bank. Take advantage of them.

Reading the Bank Before You Sit Down

The best picnic spots are rarely the obvious ones. A little scrutiny pays off, particularly on rivers that rise quickly after rain.

• Look for the debris line. A tidemark of twigs and dry grass along the bank tells you exactly how high the water gets. Sit above it, always.
• Check the flow. A gentle glide is pleasant to sit beside; a fast, brown spate is not, and it can rise while you eat. If the water is pushing hard against the bank, move upstream to a wider, slower stretch.
• Avoid undercut banks. Soft, overhanging edges can crumble without warning, especially on sandy or peaty rivers. Firm, tufty grass a metre or two back is safer and drier.
• Watch for livestock. If there are cattle in the field, give them space and never picnic between a cow and her calf. Bulls should be treated as a reason to find another spot entirely.
• Mind the tide. On tidal rivers — the lower reaches of the Thames, the Severn, the Dee, parts of the Ouse — a perfect sandy ledge can be underwater in an hour. Check the tide table before you unpack the cheese.

A spot with your back to a trunk of alder or willow gives you shade, a windbreak and something to lean on. It is worth walking an extra five minutes to find one.

What to Pack for a Riverside Lunch

The riverside picnic is not the occasion for a complicated menu. Buy well, buy locally, and keep it to things that survive a rucksack.

• Bread and cheese are the whole point. A cob, a bloomer or a crusty sourdough from a market town bakery, firm enough to tear by hand.
• Choose cheese from the same county if you can. A mature Cheddar, a crumbly Lancashire, a soft goat's cheese, a wedge of Wensleydale with fruit in it. Two cheeses is plenty for two people.
• Something sharp and something sweet. Chutney, a handful of radishes, an apple, a few cherry tomatoes. These cut through the richness of the cheese.
• A flask of tea beats a warm bottle of anything, and it stays hot even if the walk runs long.
• Kit that earns its weight: a small knife, a thin board or a folded cotton cloth, a bag for rubbish, and a square of foam or an old blanket to sit on. Wet grass soaks through a coat in minutes.

Keep the total weight light. You have to carry it back, and a heavy lunch on a hot afternoon has a way of turning into an apology.

Five Kinds of Stop Worth Seeking Out

Certain features on a river almost always deliver a good picnic. If you spot one on the map or the bank, plan your walk around it.

• The weir pool. Flat shingle or grass beside a low weir, with the steady hush of falling water and usually a heron.
• The old lock. Locks come with benches, mown grass and a genuine sense of occasion.
• The meadow bend. Where the river swings wide, the inside of the curve silts up into a shallow, sunlit shelf — often the warmest spot on the walk.
• The stone bridge. Three arches, a shaded parapet and, more often than not, a public footpath sign pointing to a good sitting spot.
• The ford or shallow crossing. Gentle water over gravel, ideal for cooling feet, but never sit directly below one if a vehicle might cross.

Timing, Weather and the Unhurried Lunch

Mid-morning to early afternoon is the sweet spot. Dog walkers and runners have usually finished by half past ten, and the light on the water is at its best. Weekdays in late spring and early autumn are the quietest and, frankly, the most rewarding — fewer people, softer light, and rivers running clear after the summer growth has died back.

In high summer, aim for shade and start earlier. On still, humid evenings, midges along the bank can be ferocious, so a light long-sleeved layer and a little repellent are sensible additions to the bag. A cagoule costs almost nothing in weight and saves an entire lunch if the weather turns.

Leaving the Bank as You Found It

A few small habits keep these spots available for everyone. Take all your litter home, including fruit peel and crusts, which do not belong in a river. Never light a fire outside a designated spot, and keep it well away from dry grass and tree roots. Close every gate behind you. Keep dogs out of weir pools and away from nesting banks between March and July.

And skip the bread for the ducks. It fouls the water and does them no good at all. A handful of oats or defrosted peas does the job, if you must feed them. Better still, sit back, pour the tea, and let the river get on with its own lunch.