I take the river bus to Greenwich. As I arrive in Greenwich a group of excited schoolchildren are boarding the boat ready to head into central London. There are lots of workmen regenerating the area and a dog has raced down to the 'beach' for a paddle. Others dogs are looking on enviously at his freedom. I'm following the river path once more. Greenwich appears much gentrified since I was last here, the Cutty Sark is wrapped in plastic. But a few streets away everything is changing. There has been lots of building and outside one small block of flats are electric car chargers - how very modern; although it doesn't look as if they have been plugged into the mains yet. Or perhaps there are no electric cars here.
I walk across Deptford Creek, the tide is out and there is a lot of mud on show - bicycles and supermarket trolleys appearing out of the ooze. The foundations of another block of flats has been laid but apparently work has stopped until 2013. The river path twists in and out from the shoreline. There are derelict wharves and lots of building projects with varying degrees of activity. I lose sight of the Thames Path signs and find myself in the middle of a vast estate. In the middle of the day it seems pretty cheery but there are quite a lot of police around. Suddenly the cars are newer (and smaller, city cars) and suddenly there are smart new apartments. It's Greenland Dock, part of it is a marina. No sign of anyone moving, but plenty of happy birds looking for breakfast and still a few dog walkers wandering about.
Just beyond it is the second part of the dock where a group of people are putting on life jackets ready to go for a sailing lesson. The docks are bounded by flats and as so often there are no people around. Surrey Quays is across the way and the shopping centre is busy. Mainly mums with babies and elderly people (often with walking frames or sticks, a sure sign of poverty). As ever along the river, the waterfront is rich but the affluence doesn't seem to trickle back. The big housing estates look as if they were built for the days when there was still lots of work on the docks. Now there are the people but few jobs.
I wander through the streets of Rotherhithe and Bermondsey and eventually manage to find the station (next to Millwall FC). I stop for something to eat in Lordship Lane. It's going through gentrification. There are plenty of delis and specialist food shops, a farm shop with lots of different English apples. It's evidently an affluent area but not too chi-chi. There are still small shops selling useful things like mops and buckets (now a near impossibility in Northcote Road which has been taken over by lifestyle choices and nothing practical).
From here I go to Peckham Rye, which is back in the global village. Many of the shops are open on to the street and fruit and vegetables stacked high. Plenty of scotch peppers and yams. Here chickens still have their heads and feet attached. The colours, the smells and the sounds are intense. The heavens open and, like everyone else, I scuttle for shelter under an awning. Bus stops become extremely popular and everyone clusters close.
Once I get home, it's time to get ready to go out and step into the world of Mad Men and the Saatchi 40th birthday party. Gone are my comfy trainers and I am teetering on heels, slightly dazed and feeling that I'm now in the rich bit of the global village. It was Saatchi who popularised the idea in an ad for themselves back in their early days.
Friday, 10 September 2010
Thursday, 9 September 2010
Wednesday 8 September - being an RGU
Today my travels were limited by work, meetings, the promise of rain and a general lack of concentration on my part. I had various shopping tasks to be completed and so I returned to normal life. Gone was wondering about and watching. I had things to do and so was concentrating on those and less on what was happening around me. I thought about doing a Regency London walk (and had appropriate A-Z) but this was post-rationalisation because I had to go to Oxford Street.
Much of the west end was built in Regency times. By then the fields and gardens are built on although there is still space. London is much bigger and more crowded and the maps change to reflect this. There are no little pictures of cows or people going about their work. This was the beginning of the Enlightenment - reason was what mattered and the maps of this time are very rational and orderly. It is all about the buildings and less about the people. There are squares and crescents and wide streets.
There doesn't seem to be much rationality about Oxford Street. It is full of people and buses queuing along its length. There is little to remind you that this is the road to Oxford. This is the highway of consumption. Today I am part of this world, I am shopping. I am fulfilling my role as a Revenue Generating Unit. I am helping the economy. I've found in earlier travels around the country that there are few spaces where you can be without spending money. Walking is very good, keeps you occupied and is free. But less fun on a wet day. Libraries are the other option, but there is growing pressure to close them down (or put them in supermarkets or some such thing).
But pretty much everywhere expects you to buy something, or at least pretend to buy something. Like walking you can wander around for nothing, but if you want to sit down you need to be spending money. You can buy a coffee but are only allowed to eat things you have bought in that shop. I understand the pressures but I'm a coeliac and in many places, they have nothing I am allowed to eat, but still they refuse to let me eat something I haven't bought there. On wet days I am often reduced to eating my sandwich at a bus stop. (Libraries don't like you eating there either). When you go home each evening you don't really notice the pressure to be a revenue generating unit. But when I am doing long distance travels and am away for weeks at a time and staying somewhere different every evening, it becomes very apparent.
Not that I have anything against shopping. Go to a town where many of the shops are boarded up and everything else is struggling to survive but it does sometimes seem that the balance is not ideal. Shopping (and being a revenue generating unit) is fine if you are in work and have money to spare. But where do you go if you are retired and bored. No time for a nice chat in the post office (the queue will be out of the door). Supermarkets are switching to self service along with the banks - and everything designed for efficiency and no chatting. The shops want (and need) us to spend and shopping provides a sort of 'sociability lite' - social engagement but no commitment. You can control the process and spend as much time or as little time as you like. If you want to buy there will (probably) be people to help you, to chat, to find what you are looking for, to make suggestions. But there is no commitment on your part, they will listen to you (but you don't have to listen to them unless you want to).
When I go to rural areas, there is much less shopping and much more chatting. I still can't work out whether this is a sign of nothing else to do, or whether when there are shops people are working longer hours to keep them open and so have less time to get involved in other things. But today this seems a world away. I am on Oxford Street, I am happy to be an RGU for a few hours and am struck by the difference between trying to engage people in conversation (to ask them their wishes) and the shop assistants trying to engage me in conversation to encourage me to buy.
Much of the west end was built in Regency times. By then the fields and gardens are built on although there is still space. London is much bigger and more crowded and the maps change to reflect this. There are no little pictures of cows or people going about their work. This was the beginning of the Enlightenment - reason was what mattered and the maps of this time are very rational and orderly. It is all about the buildings and less about the people. There are squares and crescents and wide streets.
There doesn't seem to be much rationality about Oxford Street. It is full of people and buses queuing along its length. There is little to remind you that this is the road to Oxford. This is the highway of consumption. Today I am part of this world, I am shopping. I am fulfilling my role as a Revenue Generating Unit. I am helping the economy. I've found in earlier travels around the country that there are few spaces where you can be without spending money. Walking is very good, keeps you occupied and is free. But less fun on a wet day. Libraries are the other option, but there is growing pressure to close them down (or put them in supermarkets or some such thing).
But pretty much everywhere expects you to buy something, or at least pretend to buy something. Like walking you can wander around for nothing, but if you want to sit down you need to be spending money. You can buy a coffee but are only allowed to eat things you have bought in that shop. I understand the pressures but I'm a coeliac and in many places, they have nothing I am allowed to eat, but still they refuse to let me eat something I haven't bought there. On wet days I am often reduced to eating my sandwich at a bus stop. (Libraries don't like you eating there either). When you go home each evening you don't really notice the pressure to be a revenue generating unit. But when I am doing long distance travels and am away for weeks at a time and staying somewhere different every evening, it becomes very apparent.
Not that I have anything against shopping. Go to a town where many of the shops are boarded up and everything else is struggling to survive but it does sometimes seem that the balance is not ideal. Shopping (and being a revenue generating unit) is fine if you are in work and have money to spare. But where do you go if you are retired and bored. No time for a nice chat in the post office (the queue will be out of the door). Supermarkets are switching to self service along with the banks - and everything designed for efficiency and no chatting. The shops want (and need) us to spend and shopping provides a sort of 'sociability lite' - social engagement but no commitment. You can control the process and spend as much time or as little time as you like. If you want to buy there will (probably) be people to help you, to chat, to find what you are looking for, to make suggestions. But there is no commitment on your part, they will listen to you (but you don't have to listen to them unless you want to).
When I go to rural areas, there is much less shopping and much more chatting. I still can't work out whether this is a sign of nothing else to do, or whether when there are shops people are working longer hours to keep them open and so have less time to get involved in other things. But today this seems a world away. I am on Oxford Street, I am happy to be an RGU for a few hours and am struck by the difference between trying to engage people in conversation (to ask them their wishes) and the shop assistants trying to engage me in conversation to encourage me to buy.
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Tuesday 7 September - Elizabethan London
Tube strike today and meeting in the morning so only a short day to explore. I have a copy of The A-Z of Elizabethan London and plan to use this as my guide today. London was then a small city, and concentrated around the City so seems a good plan. Then the only bridge was London Bridge and it was the old London Bridge with houses and shops strung along it. The book covers three maps of London, all thought to be in the late 1550s. Then London was a small city and largely with the old Roman city walls. Other than the inns of court there is nothing much east of where the Old Bailey now is. Smithfield Market, St Bartholomew's Hospital and Little Britain are all outside the city walls. What is now the 'west end' was then largely fields.
According to the map Covent Garden was a garden, Long Acre was a field, St Martin's fields are there but as yet no church. I presume Haymarket was a hay market (plenty of fields around). Oxford Street was the road to Oxford (and Piccadilly the road to Reading). Westminster is the place of the politics (and church). Westminster Hall (now part of the Houses of Parliament) is there; as are Westminster Abbey (and school)and Lambeth Palace. But the City is London.
I walk along the south bank, then as now a place of entertainment. These days the entertainment is rather more upscale than then. Around about Tate Modern was the site of bear baiting and bull baiting (nothing new about status dogs it seems - although the fights are happening a bit further south now). The Globe was about to be built at the time of my map. Now, the afternoon performance at the rebuilt Globe Theatre seems to have finished and people are pouring out. Groups of young foreign students cluster looking rather bored, older European and American visitors more enthusiastic.
I get the river bus to the Tower of London (I have become a huge fan of the river bus and crossing by boat seems appropriate). My plan is to walk around the city walls (only a couple of miles). The street plan is still much as it was then. Some roads have new names, some of the smaller alleys have disappeared, but most of it is still there. Seething Lane, same as now. Crutched Friars thought to have derived from an order of monks called the Fratres Crucifieri. Houndsditch (the ditch outside the city walls where rubbish and dead dogs were thrown).
I'm fascinated by how many of the street and names remain the same and I begin to realise the origins of the streets I walk every day. The old city was gated and the major roads reflect these old gated entries to the city - Aldgate, Bishopsgate (close by, St Mary's (Ho)Spital and the Spitel fields), Moorgate (Moor Fields just outside the gate) and Aldersgate.
Today is the 70th anniversary of the Blitz and outside the Guildhall is a Red Arrow and a Spitfire (now with its wings folded up and ready to go home). The formalities are over but the planes attract men (young and old) on their way home. Phones are out, photos are taken. Because of the tube strike London's streets are much busier than usual. Many people are walking rather than waiting for buses where queues snake out for yards and buses arrive already full. Most people are wearing comfy shoes but there is the occasional high heel devotee striding out defiantly. Having so many people on the streets makes London seem more cheery (though I think many of the walkers are rather grumpy about it). There are some new customers for the Boris bikes, people struggling to work out how to release the bike from its docking station.
The streets are filled with vast buildings most of which seem to be banks from various parts of the world. Here there are taxis waiting, people too busy and important to consider walking. There appears to be lobby competition with banks competing to see who can have the most dramatic entrance (no change there either). Deutsche Bank wears its art collection in its lobby with a huge abstract painting. I once had to interview one of the bankers there and they have a fabulous art collection. Each of the meeting rooms a mini gallery for an artist. I arrived early and the nice receptionist said it was fine to look in at all the empty meeting rooms. My interviewee seemed totally uninterested in the collection and not even to have noticed that there was one.
I wander towards St Paul's (there in Elizabethan times but then with a spire not a dome). Church bells are ringing out from various churches which adds to a sense of atmosphere and the old city. Paternoster Square is looking shiny and new, little sense of the old city in its new, clean squares. The Stock Exchange is here and security is always tight. If you stroll through and don't stop unless to shop or eat then you don't notice. But try taking photographs are you are likely to be moved on by security guards telling you it's not allowed 'for security reasons'.
But despite the new buildings the old names just about survive. Paternoster Square, Ave Maria Lane and Amen Corner. I am rather disappointed that Pissing Alley has not lasted (now part of Cannon Street) although anyone who has walked through London in the early morning knows that its memory is kept alive.
Once again my travels around London have revealed how little things change, or how much the same things keep happening (even if in different forms). The old street names last and the same things motivate people. There seems an endless cycle of boom and bust. The tensions between Westminster and the City are nothing new - politicians have always been concerned about the City's 'special' status. All change and no change.
According to the map Covent Garden was a garden, Long Acre was a field, St Martin's fields are there but as yet no church. I presume Haymarket was a hay market (plenty of fields around). Oxford Street was the road to Oxford (and Piccadilly the road to Reading). Westminster is the place of the politics (and church). Westminster Hall (now part of the Houses of Parliament) is there; as are Westminster Abbey (and school)and Lambeth Palace. But the City is London.
I walk along the south bank, then as now a place of entertainment. These days the entertainment is rather more upscale than then. Around about Tate Modern was the site of bear baiting and bull baiting (nothing new about status dogs it seems - although the fights are happening a bit further south now). The Globe was about to be built at the time of my map. Now, the afternoon performance at the rebuilt Globe Theatre seems to have finished and people are pouring out. Groups of young foreign students cluster looking rather bored, older European and American visitors more enthusiastic.
I get the river bus to the Tower of London (I have become a huge fan of the river bus and crossing by boat seems appropriate). My plan is to walk around the city walls (only a couple of miles). The street plan is still much as it was then. Some roads have new names, some of the smaller alleys have disappeared, but most of it is still there. Seething Lane, same as now. Crutched Friars thought to have derived from an order of monks called the Fratres Crucifieri. Houndsditch (the ditch outside the city walls where rubbish and dead dogs were thrown).
I'm fascinated by how many of the street and names remain the same and I begin to realise the origins of the streets I walk every day. The old city was gated and the major roads reflect these old gated entries to the city - Aldgate, Bishopsgate (close by, St Mary's (Ho)Spital and the Spitel fields), Moorgate (Moor Fields just outside the gate) and Aldersgate.
Today is the 70th anniversary of the Blitz and outside the Guildhall is a Red Arrow and a Spitfire (now with its wings folded up and ready to go home). The formalities are over but the planes attract men (young and old) on their way home. Phones are out, photos are taken. Because of the tube strike London's streets are much busier than usual. Many people are walking rather than waiting for buses where queues snake out for yards and buses arrive already full. Most people are wearing comfy shoes but there is the occasional high heel devotee striding out defiantly. Having so many people on the streets makes London seem more cheery (though I think many of the walkers are rather grumpy about it). There are some new customers for the Boris bikes, people struggling to work out how to release the bike from its docking station.
The streets are filled with vast buildings most of which seem to be banks from various parts of the world. Here there are taxis waiting, people too busy and important to consider walking. There appears to be lobby competition with banks competing to see who can have the most dramatic entrance (no change there either). Deutsche Bank wears its art collection in its lobby with a huge abstract painting. I once had to interview one of the bankers there and they have a fabulous art collection. Each of the meeting rooms a mini gallery for an artist. I arrived early and the nice receptionist said it was fine to look in at all the empty meeting rooms. My interviewee seemed totally uninterested in the collection and not even to have noticed that there was one.
I wander towards St Paul's (there in Elizabethan times but then with a spire not a dome). Church bells are ringing out from various churches which adds to a sense of atmosphere and the old city. Paternoster Square is looking shiny and new, little sense of the old city in its new, clean squares. The Stock Exchange is here and security is always tight. If you stroll through and don't stop unless to shop or eat then you don't notice. But try taking photographs are you are likely to be moved on by security guards telling you it's not allowed 'for security reasons'.
But despite the new buildings the old names just about survive. Paternoster Square, Ave Maria Lane and Amen Corner. I am rather disappointed that Pissing Alley has not lasted (now part of Cannon Street) although anyone who has walked through London in the early morning knows that its memory is kept alive.
Once again my travels around London have revealed how little things change, or how much the same things keep happening (even if in different forms). The old street names last and the same things motivate people. There seems an endless cycle of boom and bust. The tensions between Westminster and the City are nothing new - politicians have always been concerned about the City's 'special' status. All change and no change.
Monday 6 September - Grand Union Canal
The plan is to walk from Park Royal to Paddington and take the tube to Park Royal. I emerge from the station and the first thing I see is a Boden shop. Not sure what I expected to see but not this. Although there is not a sign of a person on the street, the shop is filled with women stocking up for autumn.
Park Royal appears to be another example of the 1920s/1930s housing boom.It's on a hill and all the houses have been built to pretty much the same design and all with space for the exciting new technology, the car. It's funny to think that whilst the houses still look modern, the cars that seemed so much more radical now look antique. Some felt have sought to demonstrate their individuality through changing the porch. There are pillars and cornices, stone cladding and stained glass. There is a small wood, it all looks very rural but a 100 yards further on is the North Circular. This seems to be a small island caught between the A40, A406 and the Hanger Lane Gyratory.
To get to the canal I have to walk under the Hanger Lane Gyratory which is slightly less confusing on foot than it is to drive round. On this side of the road, the houses look a little more battered. It is close to lunchtime and people are finishing shifts on the Park Royal industrial estate. Men have come down to the canal to have their lunch, read the paper and have a smoke. There aren't many people walking but it's quite a busy cycle track - mainly people changing shifts. The industrial estate is vast but largely hidden from the canal. The security is apparent, sharp and pointy and signs about CCTV - much the same as luxury homes. There is the smell of something sweet being baked, vanilla and caramel, a more pleasant industrial smell than many.
This is not the part of the Grand Union canal that gets written up in the tourist books but it's an interesting walk. There are big buildings that seem to need lots of power and appear to be making something (though never sure what), judging by the numbers of lorries and vans there are distribution warehouses. There are more anonymous 1980s industrial multi-purpose buildings - offices, warehouses - but more of these seem to be empty. There are also signs of people sleeping on the canalside. There is someone asleep in a sleeping bag, rucksack used clutched tight. There are hollows within dense clumps of bushes, a nest lined with sleeping bags and rubbish. A bit further on there is a hollowed out space under the bridge. I assume this would be a prime spot for a home on the canal bank. As I pass I see knees moving towards the entrance. I walk a little faster.
Every so often a narrow boat passes, these are all leisure boats (probably holiday makers and mainly older boomers at the helm). A heron takes off, lands a little further down the canal and stares beadily at me from the other side. Further down there are longer term moorings. The names on the boats range from usual boat names through the more hippyish 'Om Shanti', 'Kismet' (which may reflect a love of musical theatre as much as fatalism) through to 'Iron Maiden'. Most people seem to have a small garden on their boat. Tomatoes and herbs growing as well as flowers - geraniums, lobelia, marigolds.
Once the industrial estate ends, the railway line runs close. The air smells of diesel and trains speed east and west. From Ladbroke Grove everything changes, from here the land is too valuable to waste and I am back in the land of waterside apartments, some more affluent than others. A little further on and there are council high rises and the westway buzzing with traffic. Signs about the areas talk of swamps and slums that were cleared. 'Dust' was dumped here - 'dust' was what was cleared from the streets, mainly horse manure and then taken out via the canal. It's been interesting to see how rich and poor areas stay rich and poor. Some areas decline and get re-discovered. In the docklands the rich industrial areas are now rich leisure areas. But it seems that the poor parts remain poor. Geography seems to play its part: the rich live on the hill, the poor in the swampy, floodable low lands.
Little Venice is lovely and here I am back on the tourist track. Cafes appear and people are spending. But the light is fading, rain is threatening, the train strike is looming and I have tired legs so head to Paddington and home. Paddington is wrapped in scaffolding and busy with commuters. Just outside are the smokers, drawing deep to boost nicotine levels before the smoke free journey home. Funny how you used to be told not to smoke in the street and now it's the only place where people are allowed to smoke.
Park Royal appears to be another example of the 1920s/1930s housing boom.It's on a hill and all the houses have been built to pretty much the same design and all with space for the exciting new technology, the car. It's funny to think that whilst the houses still look modern, the cars that seemed so much more radical now look antique. Some felt have sought to demonstrate their individuality through changing the porch. There are pillars and cornices, stone cladding and stained glass. There is a small wood, it all looks very rural but a 100 yards further on is the North Circular. This seems to be a small island caught between the A40, A406 and the Hanger Lane Gyratory.
To get to the canal I have to walk under the Hanger Lane Gyratory which is slightly less confusing on foot than it is to drive round. On this side of the road, the houses look a little more battered. It is close to lunchtime and people are finishing shifts on the Park Royal industrial estate. Men have come down to the canal to have their lunch, read the paper and have a smoke. There aren't many people walking but it's quite a busy cycle track - mainly people changing shifts. The industrial estate is vast but largely hidden from the canal. The security is apparent, sharp and pointy and signs about CCTV - much the same as luxury homes. There is the smell of something sweet being baked, vanilla and caramel, a more pleasant industrial smell than many.
This is not the part of the Grand Union canal that gets written up in the tourist books but it's an interesting walk. There are big buildings that seem to need lots of power and appear to be making something (though never sure what), judging by the numbers of lorries and vans there are distribution warehouses. There are more anonymous 1980s industrial multi-purpose buildings - offices, warehouses - but more of these seem to be empty. There are also signs of people sleeping on the canalside. There is someone asleep in a sleeping bag, rucksack used clutched tight. There are hollows within dense clumps of bushes, a nest lined with sleeping bags and rubbish. A bit further on there is a hollowed out space under the bridge. I assume this would be a prime spot for a home on the canal bank. As I pass I see knees moving towards the entrance. I walk a little faster.
Every so often a narrow boat passes, these are all leisure boats (probably holiday makers and mainly older boomers at the helm). A heron takes off, lands a little further down the canal and stares beadily at me from the other side. Further down there are longer term moorings. The names on the boats range from usual boat names through the more hippyish 'Om Shanti', 'Kismet' (which may reflect a love of musical theatre as much as fatalism) through to 'Iron Maiden'. Most people seem to have a small garden on their boat. Tomatoes and herbs growing as well as flowers - geraniums, lobelia, marigolds.
Once the industrial estate ends, the railway line runs close. The air smells of diesel and trains speed east and west. From Ladbroke Grove everything changes, from here the land is too valuable to waste and I am back in the land of waterside apartments, some more affluent than others. A little further on and there are council high rises and the westway buzzing with traffic. Signs about the areas talk of swamps and slums that were cleared. 'Dust' was dumped here - 'dust' was what was cleared from the streets, mainly horse manure and then taken out via the canal. It's been interesting to see how rich and poor areas stay rich and poor. Some areas decline and get re-discovered. In the docklands the rich industrial areas are now rich leisure areas. But it seems that the poor parts remain poor. Geography seems to play its part: the rich live on the hill, the poor in the swampy, floodable low lands.
Little Venice is lovely and here I am back on the tourist track. Cafes appear and people are spending. But the light is fading, rain is threatening, the train strike is looming and I have tired legs so head to Paddington and home. Paddington is wrapped in scaffolding and busy with commuters. Just outside are the smokers, drawing deep to boost nicotine levels before the smoke free journey home. Funny how you used to be told not to smoke in the street and now it's the only place where people are allowed to smoke.
Monday, 6 September 2010
Sunday 5 September - Docklands
I return to Canary Wharf, now a ghost town with only a few people wandering. The office buildings seem even more vast without people to distract my attention. The emptiness seems slightly spooky, it's surprising it's so empty when there are so many apartment buildings. Walking along river path there aren't many more people, a few runners and cyclists. Today is the day of the Skyride - when many roads are closed to allow cyclists to ride free - judging by the numbers of people in day-glo yellow Skyride tabards it's been well attended.
The twist and turns of the river continue to test my sense of direction. The landmarks of the city keep peeping out between the buildings. The Gherkin appears to move around, and behind me Canary Wharf appears and disappears. There is apartment building after apartment building - all maximising it river frontage, lots of glass, lots of balconies and not many people. I guess a lot of people are here only during the working week but it's strange to be quite so empty. Most of the other walkers seem to be tourists.
There is CCTV everywhere and the buildings are securely gated. It all seems very modern and perfect but one road away traffic on the A13 buzzes constantly. Closer to Wapping and the river path zigzags between the road and the river. Here it's the old wharf buildings that have been converted and they go down to the river, so we walkers have to drop back to the road. These old buildings seem more glamorous (and expensive - a 2 bedroom flat here could cost you more than a million).
What strikes me most is how vast the docks must have been when they were a working space. I knew London was a major port, but didn't really have any sense of the scale. Empty of people and of trade it's still impressive - but when it was full of people coming and going and goods here and there it must have been extraordinary. Apparently in 1956 1,000 ships a week were docking in London but by the 1970s the docks were changing. Jobs had fallen from 30,000 in the 1950s to 2,000 in the 1970s and these inner docks were closing, replaced by containers (going into Tilbury). The regeneration makes big difference and it's easy to laugh at the luxury loft dwellers but although quiet now, at least there is life (and I assume work) going on.
The Skyride cyclists are all along the river. Judging by the numbers of bikes tied up outside, The Prospect of Whitby seems to be the preferred spot for lunch. There are quite a few pubs and restaurants along the way; there are parks and walkways, there are plenty of estate agents but almost no shops. Is this the land of the internet shopper? Or people who eat out all the time?
As I get to St Katharine's Dock the number of tourists increase. Here things are looking a little tatty. It was built earlier and so has taken the beating of the weather for longer but while the flats seem occupied many of the ground floor spaces (I assume once restaurants) are empty and forlorn. The Tower of London is filled with tourists (with a sprinkling of Skyriders on their way home) all taking photographs in front of Tower Bridge. Something is dangling from the top walkway. They are doing work on the bridge and it may be a bale of hay. There is a byelaw (from centuries ago) which says that if works is being done on any London bridge a bale of hay has to be dangled to work passing boats of work. When the Millennium Bridge was being de-wobbled they had the hay. It looks a bit odd hanging from the top of Tower Bridge (assuming that is what it is).
In the background there is the sound of whistles and being bells. The Skyride is running - it is extraordinary to see a main road filled with cyclists. Cyclists of all ages and levels of competence. Kids are evidently enjoying the freedom of the road, although also being warned by parents that there are fast cyclists and they need to take care. There is the air of a carnival as people speed down the hill past Old Billingsgate.
The twist and turns of the river continue to test my sense of direction. The landmarks of the city keep peeping out between the buildings. The Gherkin appears to move around, and behind me Canary Wharf appears and disappears. There is apartment building after apartment building - all maximising it river frontage, lots of glass, lots of balconies and not many people. I guess a lot of people are here only during the working week but it's strange to be quite so empty. Most of the other walkers seem to be tourists.
There is CCTV everywhere and the buildings are securely gated. It all seems very modern and perfect but one road away traffic on the A13 buzzes constantly. Closer to Wapping and the river path zigzags between the road and the river. Here it's the old wharf buildings that have been converted and they go down to the river, so we walkers have to drop back to the road. These old buildings seem more glamorous (and expensive - a 2 bedroom flat here could cost you more than a million).
What strikes me most is how vast the docks must have been when they were a working space. I knew London was a major port, but didn't really have any sense of the scale. Empty of people and of trade it's still impressive - but when it was full of people coming and going and goods here and there it must have been extraordinary. Apparently in 1956 1,000 ships a week were docking in London but by the 1970s the docks were changing. Jobs had fallen from 30,000 in the 1950s to 2,000 in the 1970s and these inner docks were closing, replaced by containers (going into Tilbury). The regeneration makes big difference and it's easy to laugh at the luxury loft dwellers but although quiet now, at least there is life (and I assume work) going on.
The Skyride cyclists are all along the river. Judging by the numbers of bikes tied up outside, The Prospect of Whitby seems to be the preferred spot for lunch. There are quite a few pubs and restaurants along the way; there are parks and walkways, there are plenty of estate agents but almost no shops. Is this the land of the internet shopper? Or people who eat out all the time?
As I get to St Katharine's Dock the number of tourists increase. Here things are looking a little tatty. It was built earlier and so has taken the beating of the weather for longer but while the flats seem occupied many of the ground floor spaces (I assume once restaurants) are empty and forlorn. The Tower of London is filled with tourists (with a sprinkling of Skyriders on their way home) all taking photographs in front of Tower Bridge. Something is dangling from the top walkway. They are doing work on the bridge and it may be a bale of hay. There is a byelaw (from centuries ago) which says that if works is being done on any London bridge a bale of hay has to be dangled to work passing boats of work. When the Millennium Bridge was being de-wobbled they had the hay. It looks a bit odd hanging from the top of Tower Bridge (assuming that is what it is).
In the background there is the sound of whistles and being bells. The Skyride is running - it is extraordinary to see a main road filled with cyclists. Cyclists of all ages and levels of competence. Kids are evidently enjoying the freedom of the road, although also being warned by parents that there are fast cyclists and they need to take care. There is the air of a carnival as people speed down the hill past Old Billingsgate.
Sunday, 5 September 2010
Saturday 4 September - Westerly
Had planned to go to Heathrow and travel back from there and then decide to take the train to Feltham - Clapham Junction is even busier than during the rush hour and discover that there is rugby at Twickenham and most people are getting the trains. The trains are even more crowded than during rush hour but the atmosphere is totally different. Whereas rush hour is silent with people locked into headphones or playing games on their phone; today people are chatty,laughing and joking. Am glad I am relatively tall, at least I can keep my head above the crush, behind me is a girl of about 10 who must be feeling rather claustrophobic. After Twickenham the train is virtually empty and the normal silence of travellers resumes.
I go through Hounslow and discover another M&S Outlet store - up until then I'd noticed only the number of M&S Simply Food shops. The M&S clock on the shopfront says they've been here in some form for a long time. There are lots of families and many of the young couples and families speak with some sort of Slavic accent. The high street is busy with people shopping and chatting. It's interesting that the less affluent areas seem to be more social. Cafes are full and there are a lot of groups of men drinking coffee. In more affluent areas, other than the mums gathering, it's usually people alone or in pairs. There is a feeling that people are working around here, there are plenty of small businesses tucked away in every corner. But there are also signs of economic hard times. There are plenty of empty shops and also a lot of empty office buildings (and presumably those jobs lost). In the centre it all seems pretty buzzy, but a street or two away and places are boarded up. Despite this there are also signs for some sort of luxury housing being built. Everything is gated and signs effectively saying keep away unless you belong.
There is a large Asian population here, but it's also mixed with African muslim ladies swatched in black, their faces framed by their scarves, young Poles and Russians, elderly white and Afro-Caribbeans. The East End used to be the place where the newly arrived lived when people arrived by sea. Now that planes bring most people, it is this westerly end where many arrive and settle first.
As with so much of London places change from rich to poor and back again within a few streets. Brentford has its estates - council and the newer developments of flats with river/canal views. And tucked behind is The Butts Estate, a gathering of 18th century houses which seem very different to those around it. Brentford, it seems has a long history, people have been living here since Roman times and it's had its share of visits from Kings and battles in the Civil War. There's also been a court here for many centuries. It seems to have had a lot of industry through the Victorian era and lots of poverty - one article saying that it was worse than the East End for poverty. Apparently the posh people on the Surrey side of the river didn't like looking at the poverty on the other side (no change there then). Like much of zone 4 it seems to have been transformed in the 1920s with the Great West Road and coming of new industries. Now the M4 rises on stilts above the people and the new GSK building is a new palace to modernity. They used to be in a 1920s building that whilst modern when built, by the 1980s was looking very tatty. Now it's a vast site, landscaped, light, bright and lots of security.
Next I decide to go to Osterley Park. I've driven past the signs many times but never been there. It was built in the 17th century for the Childs family (private bankers) and designed to impress. The estate is a leafy island in the middle of a built up area. Osterley Park and House are now owned by the National Trust. There are cattle in the fields, Charolais I think. The house is impressive. The long drive which would take only a couple of minutes to drive is a much longer walk (now I know how the staff felt, although I suppose they lived in and were probably only allowed out once or twice a year). The grounds are busy with families - picnics, cycling, feeding the ducks. There is a golf buggy to shuttle people from the car park to the house, driven (as always) by a volunteer who (although very spry) seems to be decades older than most of the people being shuttled. Today the lady driving has a seriousness that makes you feel she was an Army driver in the World War Two and used to driving generals.
The house makes me wonder who (of the current rich) are building places like this. Is no-one this rich anymore? Would they not get planning permission? Do the suer-rich prefer to spend on yachts and planes? Or have properties in many places rather than a single place? Do they think of land and art as an investment rather than something to leave to next generations? I'll probably never find out. One thing I've realised on my travels is that you never see the rich. Just as in earlier times they travel in private and move from one affluent bubble to another, they have no public life.
I go through Hounslow and discover another M&S Outlet store - up until then I'd noticed only the number of M&S Simply Food shops. The M&S clock on the shopfront says they've been here in some form for a long time. There are lots of families and many of the young couples and families speak with some sort of Slavic accent. The high street is busy with people shopping and chatting. It's interesting that the less affluent areas seem to be more social. Cafes are full and there are a lot of groups of men drinking coffee. In more affluent areas, other than the mums gathering, it's usually people alone or in pairs. There is a feeling that people are working around here, there are plenty of small businesses tucked away in every corner. But there are also signs of economic hard times. There are plenty of empty shops and also a lot of empty office buildings (and presumably those jobs lost). In the centre it all seems pretty buzzy, but a street or two away and places are boarded up. Despite this there are also signs for some sort of luxury housing being built. Everything is gated and signs effectively saying keep away unless you belong.
There is a large Asian population here, but it's also mixed with African muslim ladies swatched in black, their faces framed by their scarves, young Poles and Russians, elderly white and Afro-Caribbeans. The East End used to be the place where the newly arrived lived when people arrived by sea. Now that planes bring most people, it is this westerly end where many arrive and settle first.
As with so much of London places change from rich to poor and back again within a few streets. Brentford has its estates - council and the newer developments of flats with river/canal views. And tucked behind is The Butts Estate, a gathering of 18th century houses which seem very different to those around it. Brentford, it seems has a long history, people have been living here since Roman times and it's had its share of visits from Kings and battles in the Civil War. There's also been a court here for many centuries. It seems to have had a lot of industry through the Victorian era and lots of poverty - one article saying that it was worse than the East End for poverty. Apparently the posh people on the Surrey side of the river didn't like looking at the poverty on the other side (no change there then). Like much of zone 4 it seems to have been transformed in the 1920s with the Great West Road and coming of new industries. Now the M4 rises on stilts above the people and the new GSK building is a new palace to modernity. They used to be in a 1920s building that whilst modern when built, by the 1980s was looking very tatty. Now it's a vast site, landscaped, light, bright and lots of security.
Next I decide to go to Osterley Park. I've driven past the signs many times but never been there. It was built in the 17th century for the Childs family (private bankers) and designed to impress. The estate is a leafy island in the middle of a built up area. Osterley Park and House are now owned by the National Trust. There are cattle in the fields, Charolais I think. The house is impressive. The long drive which would take only a couple of minutes to drive is a much longer walk (now I know how the staff felt, although I suppose they lived in and were probably only allowed out once or twice a year). The grounds are busy with families - picnics, cycling, feeding the ducks. There is a golf buggy to shuttle people from the car park to the house, driven (as always) by a volunteer who (although very spry) seems to be decades older than most of the people being shuttled. Today the lady driving has a seriousness that makes you feel she was an Army driver in the World War Two and used to driving generals.
The house makes me wonder who (of the current rich) are building places like this. Is no-one this rich anymore? Would they not get planning permission? Do the suer-rich prefer to spend on yachts and planes? Or have properties in many places rather than a single place? Do they think of land and art as an investment rather than something to leave to next generations? I'll probably never find out. One thing I've realised on my travels is that you never see the rich. Just as in earlier times they travel in private and move from one affluent bubble to another, they have no public life.
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Friday 3 September - eastwards on the river
Decide to take the river bus east to Woolwich Arsenal and it's a glorious day to be on the river. Almost miss the bus because don't realise the bus from Embankment pier saying London Eye is the one I need. It goes from Embankment west to the London Eye and then heads east. The river bus is a great discovery, I can use my oyster and it's much more enjoyable than the underground (and most of it is under cover for less clement weather and you can get coffee). It's more like a sightseeing tour than a commute.
The other slightly confusing thing is that travelling this way you really understand how twisty the Thames is. Buildings keep popping up at odd angles, landmarks suddenly superimposed on one another in odd combinations. At Canary Wharf we are travelling south and landmarks seem to be in the wrong place. Out of the city and the boat picks up its skirts and speeds down the river at a pace that fits with its 'clipper' name. Most of the old wharves have been converted to luxury apartments and past Tower Bridge there are vast acres of new developments - nice if you get the river view and a balcony, less appealing views from the back. The old working spaces of river frontage have been gentrified but glimpses further back say that the changes don't go very deep. Beyond the gated and gentrified are the council blocks of south London.
The apartments seem to go on for miles. There are a few working spaces on the south bank but it's Woolwich before there is much sign of work on the north bank. Sugar (Tate & Lyle) and rubbish (to be sent downstream)are the visible signs of industry. The Thames Barrier sits ready to keep the waters at bay. And then we're at Woolwich (and I am the only passenger left to get off the boat). There are people waiting to commute west into work.
Woolwich 'Royal Arsenal' (spot the re-branding by Berkeley Homes) is not what I was expecting. There are a cluster of Anthony Gormley figures by the pier. The buildings are beautiful and everything is immaculately landscaped. The Thames Path is still running so I walk towards Thamesmead, the new town that will provide affordable housing (or so we're told). There are plenty of apartment blocks facing the river but things look a little less glamorous. The buildings are already showing a few signs of age and the landscaping is beyond tatty, the plants have died. I hadn't thought about landscaping before, but nice plants make a difference. I wonder what happens once all the properties are sold - who does the gardening then? 'Royal Arsenal' has pretty plants and gardeners keeping them looking nice, but they are still in the building/selling mode. Will this be the same when everything is sold - who will replace the begonias and do the deadheading?
But within a mile or so I am beyond the buildings and it feels like the countryside - well a slightly industrial countryside. The river widens out and pigeons have been replaced by gulls. Suddenly it's quiet and I can hear the birds (with the interruption of planes taking off from London City airport). The hedges are full of fruit, but the path is fiercely fenced, we are free to wander the Thames Path but not allowed to stray off the path. I can see the Barking Barrier ahead of me and a huge windmill turning in the distance. It's a very pleasant spot but virtually no people. Two or three cyclists pass in the hour I am walking, a couple of runners and three dogwalkers. Otherwise no-one on the path. As I turn back there are more people present in the flats, I can hear music and laughter and people smoking on their balconies.
Royal Arsenal seems like a beautiful ghost town, there is no-one around. I stop for a coffee in a delicatessen (talking about artisan products and local production but demand seems to be for bread, milk and cakes). I wander around, the original buildings have been kept and converted, windows reveal the high ceilings (and the 'sleeping platforms' inserted half way up the windows). There are wide paths between the buildings but still no people. I have noticed in other parts of the country that although the theory of regeneration says that bringing money into an area will improve it; in reality it seems that the regeneration effect doesn't spill more than a few streets. Here it doesn't even manage to cross the road (admittedly a busy road).
I cross and go into Woolwich High Street and it is a different world. Here there are people out and about, chatting, shopping, laughing, rowing. All human life, it is much poorer but much more alive. People, all ages, all colours, all shapes and sizes, lots of walking sticks and motability scooters (disability a sign of poorer areas and still can't work out if it is industrial injury or smoking). It is vibrant and alive. None of the empty beauty of the gentrified space. I keep being told there is 'no such thing as class anymore' there is only 'lifestyle choice'. Here you see the impact of social class and over the road are lifestyle choices; beautiful but soulless. Here it looks less pretty but it has soul.
I take the Woolwich Ferry back over the river. Boats shuttle between the north and south sides of the Thames and lorries and cars are queuing for a space. As a pedestrian it's much easier. There seems to be a real camararderie among all the people working on the river (Serco manages the ferry for TfL), people know one another and chat and joke as they pass. It transforms a functional industrial space into a human place. From the ferry it's a walk through an industrial estate. There are huge satellite dishes pointing skywards - according to the sign this is the 'London Teleport'. Beaming phones? internet? telly? who knows, not me. Lorries trundle along the road. I can see buses but I am the wrong side of a disused railway line. On the other side of the railway are houses. Small houses, some bricked up. In the days of work on the docks there would have been plenty of work, not sure where people work now and can't cross to find out more.
The other slightly confusing thing is that travelling this way you really understand how twisty the Thames is. Buildings keep popping up at odd angles, landmarks suddenly superimposed on one another in odd combinations. At Canary Wharf we are travelling south and landmarks seem to be in the wrong place. Out of the city and the boat picks up its skirts and speeds down the river at a pace that fits with its 'clipper' name. Most of the old wharves have been converted to luxury apartments and past Tower Bridge there are vast acres of new developments - nice if you get the river view and a balcony, less appealing views from the back. The old working spaces of river frontage have been gentrified but glimpses further back say that the changes don't go very deep. Beyond the gated and gentrified are the council blocks of south London.
The apartments seem to go on for miles. There are a few working spaces on the south bank but it's Woolwich before there is much sign of work on the north bank. Sugar (Tate & Lyle) and rubbish (to be sent downstream)are the visible signs of industry. The Thames Barrier sits ready to keep the waters at bay. And then we're at Woolwich (and I am the only passenger left to get off the boat). There are people waiting to commute west into work.
Woolwich 'Royal Arsenal' (spot the re-branding by Berkeley Homes) is not what I was expecting. There are a cluster of Anthony Gormley figures by the pier. The buildings are beautiful and everything is immaculately landscaped. The Thames Path is still running so I walk towards Thamesmead, the new town that will provide affordable housing (or so we're told). There are plenty of apartment blocks facing the river but things look a little less glamorous. The buildings are already showing a few signs of age and the landscaping is beyond tatty, the plants have died. I hadn't thought about landscaping before, but nice plants make a difference. I wonder what happens once all the properties are sold - who does the gardening then? 'Royal Arsenal' has pretty plants and gardeners keeping them looking nice, but they are still in the building/selling mode. Will this be the same when everything is sold - who will replace the begonias and do the deadheading?
But within a mile or so I am beyond the buildings and it feels like the countryside - well a slightly industrial countryside. The river widens out and pigeons have been replaced by gulls. Suddenly it's quiet and I can hear the birds (with the interruption of planes taking off from London City airport). The hedges are full of fruit, but the path is fiercely fenced, we are free to wander the Thames Path but not allowed to stray off the path. I can see the Barking Barrier ahead of me and a huge windmill turning in the distance. It's a very pleasant spot but virtually no people. Two or three cyclists pass in the hour I am walking, a couple of runners and three dogwalkers. Otherwise no-one on the path. As I turn back there are more people present in the flats, I can hear music and laughter and people smoking on their balconies.
Royal Arsenal seems like a beautiful ghost town, there is no-one around. I stop for a coffee in a delicatessen (talking about artisan products and local production but demand seems to be for bread, milk and cakes). I wander around, the original buildings have been kept and converted, windows reveal the high ceilings (and the 'sleeping platforms' inserted half way up the windows). There are wide paths between the buildings but still no people. I have noticed in other parts of the country that although the theory of regeneration says that bringing money into an area will improve it; in reality it seems that the regeneration effect doesn't spill more than a few streets. Here it doesn't even manage to cross the road (admittedly a busy road).
I cross and go into Woolwich High Street and it is a different world. Here there are people out and about, chatting, shopping, laughing, rowing. All human life, it is much poorer but much more alive. People, all ages, all colours, all shapes and sizes, lots of walking sticks and motability scooters (disability a sign of poorer areas and still can't work out if it is industrial injury or smoking). It is vibrant and alive. None of the empty beauty of the gentrified space. I keep being told there is 'no such thing as class anymore' there is only 'lifestyle choice'. Here you see the impact of social class and over the road are lifestyle choices; beautiful but soulless. Here it looks less pretty but it has soul.
I take the Woolwich Ferry back over the river. Boats shuttle between the north and south sides of the Thames and lorries and cars are queuing for a space. As a pedestrian it's much easier. There seems to be a real camararderie among all the people working on the river (Serco manages the ferry for TfL), people know one another and chat and joke as they pass. It transforms a functional industrial space into a human place. From the ferry it's a walk through an industrial estate. There are huge satellite dishes pointing skywards - according to the sign this is the 'London Teleport'. Beaming phones? internet? telly? who knows, not me. Lorries trundle along the road. I can see buses but I am the wrong side of a disused railway line. On the other side of the railway are houses. Small houses, some bricked up. In the days of work on the docks there would have been plenty of work, not sure where people work now and can't cross to find out more.
Thursday 2 September - Northern Line
Today is a day for travelling north. Head first to Alexandra Palace and stop at a garden centre for a bottle of water and wonder why plants account for so little of a garden centre's stock. I once found one where there was a relatively small section called 'outdoor gardening'. Gardening seems to encompass a lot of snacking, entertaining and gift giving these days. Resist temptations to buy bulbs (now is the time to do so) as too heavy to carry all day.
Head further north and I discover why High Barnet is called High Barnet - it is on the top of the hill. And the other branch of the Northern Line is on the other side of the hill. I am giving in to my map obsession and fascinated by the stories the map reveals. I have the Ordnance Survey explorer maps for north and south London and truly they give the big picture. It's interesting to see London joined up (rather than the page by page version of the A-Z). The names, I haven't yet been to Freezy Water (close to Enfield). The maps also reveal the affluence (or not) of the area. Close to the centre and the houses are shown, gardens too small for the scale of the map. As you move out the gardens become visible and then at the edges the gardens are much bigger than the houses.
But in my quest to span the city I take the northern line to High Barnet. The train struggles up the last stretch which is increasingly steep, and then I have to struggle up the steps and the rest of the hill. Kids are leaving school as I get there and they flock at crossings, laughing, joking, getting in the way of everyone else, skirts are short and socks very long. I assume that there is a great view to be seen and keep walking up the hill. I keep walking and suddenly London has become countryside. I am no longer in High Barnet but now in Monken Hadley. Very pretty, very expensive. The Jag showroom should have been a clue. Substantial houses turn to very large, the gates and 24 hour security signs more prominent and the hedges higher (so it seems the rich not only live at the top of the hill but they also have the best views)
As I've travelled around the country it's struck me how strong the Georgian era remains in non industrial towns. Because of the Industrial Revolution there was rapid economic growth, a rising middle class and lots of building; some of which remain. And I'm noticing it again as I travel around London (which I didn't expect - cities seem to have more Victorian influence than Georgian). But beyond central London you still see the Georgian houses of what would have been the original villages. Then the early Victorian cottages, the later villas, if it's an affluent area, the 1920s building boom; if it's not, the 1960s building boom. And all those stories of change can still be read. But there are so many people now that it's the later periods that dominate.
I'm also fascinated by how much building went on in London in the 1920s. North London seems to be full of it. Substantial houses and gardens, lots of timber frames and stained glass, many with space for the latest technology (the car). I don't know much about the 1920s but seem to remember that there was an economic boom, lots of lending and speculation, followed by a crash, that went on for a long time, and had its beginning in the US. Familiar? These 1920s homes now look rather luxurious, I wonder if the luxury apartments of the Noughties boom will look as good in 2070?
Still looking for the view I find a park which is truly bosky and has a magnificent view. The park turns into fields, hedges full of blackberries and rose hips, hawthorn and sloe. Autumn is approaching,things are ripening. At the bottom of the hill it is back to the city but am rather intrigued by these suddenly changing scenes, high street, village, countryside within a few minutes walk.
Head further north and I discover why High Barnet is called High Barnet - it is on the top of the hill. And the other branch of the Northern Line is on the other side of the hill. I am giving in to my map obsession and fascinated by the stories the map reveals. I have the Ordnance Survey explorer maps for north and south London and truly they give the big picture. It's interesting to see London joined up (rather than the page by page version of the A-Z). The names, I haven't yet been to Freezy Water (close to Enfield). The maps also reveal the affluence (or not) of the area. Close to the centre and the houses are shown, gardens too small for the scale of the map. As you move out the gardens become visible and then at the edges the gardens are much bigger than the houses.
But in my quest to span the city I take the northern line to High Barnet. The train struggles up the last stretch which is increasingly steep, and then I have to struggle up the steps and the rest of the hill. Kids are leaving school as I get there and they flock at crossings, laughing, joking, getting in the way of everyone else, skirts are short and socks very long. I assume that there is a great view to be seen and keep walking up the hill. I keep walking and suddenly London has become countryside. I am no longer in High Barnet but now in Monken Hadley. Very pretty, very expensive. The Jag showroom should have been a clue. Substantial houses turn to very large, the gates and 24 hour security signs more prominent and the hedges higher (so it seems the rich not only live at the top of the hill but they also have the best views)
As I've travelled around the country it's struck me how strong the Georgian era remains in non industrial towns. Because of the Industrial Revolution there was rapid economic growth, a rising middle class and lots of building; some of which remain. And I'm noticing it again as I travel around London (which I didn't expect - cities seem to have more Victorian influence than Georgian). But beyond central London you still see the Georgian houses of what would have been the original villages. Then the early Victorian cottages, the later villas, if it's an affluent area, the 1920s building boom; if it's not, the 1960s building boom. And all those stories of change can still be read. But there are so many people now that it's the later periods that dominate.
I'm also fascinated by how much building went on in London in the 1920s. North London seems to be full of it. Substantial houses and gardens, lots of timber frames and stained glass, many with space for the latest technology (the car). I don't know much about the 1920s but seem to remember that there was an economic boom, lots of lending and speculation, followed by a crash, that went on for a long time, and had its beginning in the US. Familiar? These 1920s homes now look rather luxurious, I wonder if the luxury apartments of the Noughties boom will look as good in 2070?
Still looking for the view I find a park which is truly bosky and has a magnificent view. The park turns into fields, hedges full of blackberries and rose hips, hawthorn and sloe. Autumn is approaching,things are ripening. At the bottom of the hill it is back to the city but am rather intrigued by these suddenly changing scenes, high street, village, countryside within a few minutes walk.
Friday, 3 September 2010
Wednesday 1 September - Croydon
Only a half day as I have a meeting in the afternoon and so set off to Croydon while most are heading to work. I always find Croydon slightly disorienting. I'm never sure where the centre is. Is there a centre beyond the shopping centres? But I do like Croydon's trams. Wander around what seems to be the centre - there are lots of tall office buildings. Lots of wide roads and lots of shopping centres. But somehow it all feels slightly at odds with itself. It seems to live the 60s dream of modernity. All glass and optimism. Optimism that looks a bit battered. The centre is reasonably busy but a few streets away and there are plenty of empty shops.
I'm less keen on the 1960s dream of the modern than some of the other eras. It's so focussed on cars that everything revolves around them and it doesn't feel very human. I've seen in other cities that where cars are central to design the roads end up feeling like rivers. Part of the landscape but hard to cross and it creates boundaries. The big road block housing estates and these become defensible spaces and often the haunts of gangs. It's a bit early in the day for any gangs to be on the streets but the rough sleepers and drinkers are beginning to gather.
I take a tram towards Wimbledon. The information board talks of lavender fields. This seems unlikely as my map shows a sewage plant and I think it is one stop on from Ikea on the Purley Way. But Therapia Lane sounds interesting. Think the last time there was a lavender harvest was probably the same time as on Lavender Hill (about 100 years ago). Therapia Lane seems to be in the midst of an industrial estate and so I stay on the tram. Eventually get off at Mitcham Junction, which sounds urban but is curiously rural.
There seem to be a lot of golfers in these parts and the courses are busy with people setting out with great purpose. Wander through Mitcham Common and discover Mitcham Garden Village - a private estate and lots of signs saying keep away. It looks as if it is the 1920s version of modern and rather lovely. Big houses, small estate. Mitcham itself is pretty. You can see its Georgian village past with a few houses around the green. Then there are the Victorian shops and various forms of later housing. I'm surprised by how strong the Georgian influence is at London's edges. I've noticed it in smaller cities around the country, but hadn't expected to see it at these far flung parts of London.
After this I spend some time in Tooting. Tooting Broadway feels slightly hysterical. Too many people in transit and a slight sense that everyone is just a bit too edgy, perhaps it's the unexpected heat of the day. But there is shouting and shoving. As I walk towards Tooting Bec the mood calms a little. It seems to be that the big transport hubs always have a slight sense of mania. As I move up the hill the mood softens and the shops become more engaging. There is a large population from the Indian sub-continent and the shops are independent and more exotic than the usual ones. A couple of men are pushing a trolley load of rice up the road, presumably to supply a restaurant (of which there are many). There are saris shops and jewellers, supermarkets and people chatting.
Tooting blurs into Wandsworth and the houses become larger, and set back further creating enough space for car parking and the occasional front garden. Everything becomes that little bit smarter and bigger. There are still plenty of kids about enjoying the last few days of holidays. Grandparents are busy here too, trying to keep the children entertained and looking slightly mystified by the passion for Nintendo.
I'm less keen on the 1960s dream of the modern than some of the other eras. It's so focussed on cars that everything revolves around them and it doesn't feel very human. I've seen in other cities that where cars are central to design the roads end up feeling like rivers. Part of the landscape but hard to cross and it creates boundaries. The big road block housing estates and these become defensible spaces and often the haunts of gangs. It's a bit early in the day for any gangs to be on the streets but the rough sleepers and drinkers are beginning to gather.
I take a tram towards Wimbledon. The information board talks of lavender fields. This seems unlikely as my map shows a sewage plant and I think it is one stop on from Ikea on the Purley Way. But Therapia Lane sounds interesting. Think the last time there was a lavender harvest was probably the same time as on Lavender Hill (about 100 years ago). Therapia Lane seems to be in the midst of an industrial estate and so I stay on the tram. Eventually get off at Mitcham Junction, which sounds urban but is curiously rural.
There seem to be a lot of golfers in these parts and the courses are busy with people setting out with great purpose. Wander through Mitcham Common and discover Mitcham Garden Village - a private estate and lots of signs saying keep away. It looks as if it is the 1920s version of modern and rather lovely. Big houses, small estate. Mitcham itself is pretty. You can see its Georgian village past with a few houses around the green. Then there are the Victorian shops and various forms of later housing. I'm surprised by how strong the Georgian influence is at London's edges. I've noticed it in smaller cities around the country, but hadn't expected to see it at these far flung parts of London.
After this I spend some time in Tooting. Tooting Broadway feels slightly hysterical. Too many people in transit and a slight sense that everyone is just a bit too edgy, perhaps it's the unexpected heat of the day. But there is shouting and shoving. As I walk towards Tooting Bec the mood calms a little. It seems to be that the big transport hubs always have a slight sense of mania. As I move up the hill the mood softens and the shops become more engaging. There is a large population from the Indian sub-continent and the shops are independent and more exotic than the usual ones. A couple of men are pushing a trolley load of rice up the road, presumably to supply a restaurant (of which there are many). There are saris shops and jewellers, supermarkets and people chatting.
Tooting blurs into Wandsworth and the houses become larger, and set back further creating enough space for car parking and the occasional front garden. Everything becomes that little bit smarter and bigger. There are still plenty of kids about enjoying the last few days of holidays. Grandparents are busy here too, trying to keep the children entertained and looking slightly mystified by the passion for Nintendo.
Thursday, 2 September 2010
Tuesday 31 August - Central Line
I decided to take the Central Line to its furthest point. On the map it looks east, in reality it is north east. I go to Epping and drift back into the centre. The first surprise is how rural it is once the train moves past Debden. There are fields of corn, the first few have been harvested and bales of straw lie in the fields. Epping is a pretty town and busy with poeple. The last week of the school holidays seems to be the time when kids are with their grandparents. All around are grandparents trying to move their kids away from electronic games and encourage running around.
Epping is busy, there are a few chain stores and lots of small independent shops (particularly gift shops). Houses seem to be almost as expensive as in London and a large house could easily cost you two or three million quid. Admittedly you get a bigger garden but it still seems to be a lot of money. And there are no cheap houses. There are lots of young families and goodness knows how people afford to buy a home. Perhaps that is one of the good things about the Underground, it pulls money out of the City and spreads it around the place.
I move south to Woodford. This is the place of sociology books I read decades ago. Woodford was one of the parts of London where people moved after the Second World War. The East End had been decimated by bombs (and was hardly luxury living). Post war there was a big building boom and people were encouraged to move out to places like Woodford. There were jobs, the underground made it easy to get back into the city. There is a lot of 1930s housing (an earlier building boom), interspersed with 1960s and 1980s housing. South Woodford is more mixed than Epping. There are allotments, heavy with fruit and vegetables. One apple tree has apples the size of grapefruit. The houses and gardens are well cared for, most have at least two cars parked in front. The front gardens often converted to parking spaces, but plenty of crazy paving (the decking of its day) still to be found.
An old university site has been converted to more luxury flats with a view of the north circular (and I assume some solid double glazing to keep the sound out). There are lots of people around, chatting, shopping, meeting for lunch. There are all generations and all races here, it feels buzzy and cheery. (The sun is shining and this always helps, but it feels a friendly place). There are some of the chain stores but also lots of independent shops. Many have their wares displayed on the pavement which adds to the sense of life and cheeriness. People chat and ask questions, it's all very friendly and chatty.
I jump on the tube again to head to Stratford and the Olympic site. I get distracted by a huge cemetery at Leyton (the tube is still above ground at this point) and end up walking from Leyton to Stratford.
Cranes fill the skyline and appear to be building hills - I assume some form of landscaping, can't think of a summer olympic sport that needs hills. Here the area is more mixed and the signs are in many languages. Next to signs in Arabic are those in Polish. It's difficult to get close to the Olympic site, the security is tight. Turnsties are already in place for the current workforce. There are glimpses of the aquatic centre and a large building that appears to be wrapped in white plastic. Further round the spines of the stadium are visible and the athlete's village is being built. It's interesting that much of the infrastructure of transport and security are already in place. But the boundaries are sharp. To my left are potholed streets with houses and flats. To the right smoothed, widened, newly tarmaced roads that will take people into the Olympics. On the left kids are playing football, graffiti is common. On the right there are only the builders, and the plans for the site are written (and pictured) on hoardings. Glossy people in glossy places with shops and restaurants and the perfect people of architect's plans.
The money will make a difference but I wonder if the barriers between rich and poor will remain as strong. I get the sense there will be a lot of gated communities once the Olympics are over. I may be wrong. As ever shopping is central to the plans (and pays for many of the facilities). A Westfield Stratford City is planned with thousands of square feet of shopping opportunities.
Stratford itself seems to be the interchange of the world. People are arriving and leaving, crossings stream with people of every colour, wearing every colour and costume. This is life in the global village. It's not the glossy global village of celebrity and central London. People here are starting out, many are trundling vast cases alongside them. They are changing and beginning new lives. There are many languages spoken and everyone seems to be moving. It is exiciting and dynamic, but it's doesn't quite fit with the images of the architect's plans on the surrounding hoardings.
Epping is busy, there are a few chain stores and lots of small independent shops (particularly gift shops). Houses seem to be almost as expensive as in London and a large house could easily cost you two or three million quid. Admittedly you get a bigger garden but it still seems to be a lot of money. And there are no cheap houses. There are lots of young families and goodness knows how people afford to buy a home. Perhaps that is one of the good things about the Underground, it pulls money out of the City and spreads it around the place.
I move south to Woodford. This is the place of sociology books I read decades ago. Woodford was one of the parts of London where people moved after the Second World War. The East End had been decimated by bombs (and was hardly luxury living). Post war there was a big building boom and people were encouraged to move out to places like Woodford. There were jobs, the underground made it easy to get back into the city. There is a lot of 1930s housing (an earlier building boom), interspersed with 1960s and 1980s housing. South Woodford is more mixed than Epping. There are allotments, heavy with fruit and vegetables. One apple tree has apples the size of grapefruit. The houses and gardens are well cared for, most have at least two cars parked in front. The front gardens often converted to parking spaces, but plenty of crazy paving (the decking of its day) still to be found.
An old university site has been converted to more luxury flats with a view of the north circular (and I assume some solid double glazing to keep the sound out). There are lots of people around, chatting, shopping, meeting for lunch. There are all generations and all races here, it feels buzzy and cheery. (The sun is shining and this always helps, but it feels a friendly place). There are some of the chain stores but also lots of independent shops. Many have their wares displayed on the pavement which adds to the sense of life and cheeriness. People chat and ask questions, it's all very friendly and chatty.
I jump on the tube again to head to Stratford and the Olympic site. I get distracted by a huge cemetery at Leyton (the tube is still above ground at this point) and end up walking from Leyton to Stratford.
Cranes fill the skyline and appear to be building hills - I assume some form of landscaping, can't think of a summer olympic sport that needs hills. Here the area is more mixed and the signs are in many languages. Next to signs in Arabic are those in Polish. It's difficult to get close to the Olympic site, the security is tight. Turnsties are already in place for the current workforce. There are glimpses of the aquatic centre and a large building that appears to be wrapped in white plastic. Further round the spines of the stadium are visible and the athlete's village is being built. It's interesting that much of the infrastructure of transport and security are already in place. But the boundaries are sharp. To my left are potholed streets with houses and flats. To the right smoothed, widened, newly tarmaced roads that will take people into the Olympics. On the left kids are playing football, graffiti is common. On the right there are only the builders, and the plans for the site are written (and pictured) on hoardings. Glossy people in glossy places with shops and restaurants and the perfect people of architect's plans.
The money will make a difference but I wonder if the barriers between rich and poor will remain as strong. I get the sense there will be a lot of gated communities once the Olympics are over. I may be wrong. As ever shopping is central to the plans (and pays for many of the facilities). A Westfield Stratford City is planned with thousands of square feet of shopping opportunities.
Stratford itself seems to be the interchange of the world. People are arriving and leaving, crossings stream with people of every colour, wearing every colour and costume. This is life in the global village. It's not the glossy global village of celebrity and central London. People here are starting out, many are trundling vast cases alongside them. They are changing and beginning new lives. There are many languages spoken and everyone seems to be moving. It is exiciting and dynamic, but it's doesn't quite fit with the images of the architect's plans on the surrounding hoardings.
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