The tide was quite up, but I was just passing on my way to a playground that made sounds, so I headed to the foreshore anyway.
A dog ran past me to the gate and the owner apologised. I then saw the dog enjoying a swim in the river.
"Are you mudlarking?" a man asked from the top of the steps.
"I am!" I told him.
He told me he’d found a purple rock and held it up, but I couldn't see it very well.
The Pile had gone. Previously at Blackfriars, piled up in one corner were stones and sherds and glass and bones, and everything else. You could stand there on the pile of bones as everyone rushed by to get their trains. But now instead there was just sand.
It was nice to stand by the lapping waves of the Thames again.
I didn't find any purple rocks, but I picked up another flint (which I then cracked by pouring boiling water on it - I do need to find better methods of cleaning things!), a brown and white sherd, one of the collection of square black tiles, and a few pieces of glass.

(You need a permit to search or mudlark on the Thames foreshore.)