Hunting for TREASURE

Three women share their passions for discovering the hidden gems beneath our feet

- CATHERINE LARNER

Mudlarking is like stepping through a portal into the past'

Liz Anderson, 65, is a retired history teacher who lives in London with her husband Bob, 70.

I've lived in London all my life but never really thought about how the River Thames goes in and out until I saw someone on the foreshore one day. I thought he'd lost a contact lens and offered to help him search, but he was looking for artefacts. I glanced down and there was a piece of 17th-century pottery at my feet. It's not usually that easy!

That was 10 years ago and I must have mudlarked over 500 times since then. I try to get to the foreshore about four times a month. It's like stepping through a portal into the past. All the noise of the embankment above disappears. You're alongside the wading birds and with old timbers creaking. A couple of hours in that space, whether or not you've found anything, leaves you recharged and rejuvenated.

The items are usually of little or no value, but a special find was a handheld loom weight from the Iron Age. I instantly felt connected with the woman who'd have used it for making textiles to clothe her family and community. These are ordinary people, whose names I'll never know, but they once owned an artefact that I've found.

We need a permit from the Port of London Authority (PLA) to mudlark and can't sell anything we find. If something is over 300 years old, we have to report it to the finds liaison officer at the London Museum.

Some permit holders have scraping and digging permissions in historically sensitive areas, but I'm 'eyes only'. I might miss things that are buried underneath, but it doesn't really matter.

I have knee pads, wellies and waterproofs. I always wear gloves, and I keep my tetanus jab up to date because the river can be dangerous.