Saturday, 4 September 2010

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.

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.

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.

Tuesday, 31 August 2010

Monday 29 August - Thames Path

I decided to explore part of the Thames Path. It starts miles away near Lechlade and there is now a path the length of the Thames (184 miles). I take a train to Hampton Court and decide to walk to Richmond. As I find the Thames Path a signpost tells me that it is 29 miles to Tower Bridge; this seems a very long way away. It is early for a bank holiday when I set out and there aren't many people around. Some arriving
for work at Hampton Court, a few runners and dog walkers. There are some fabulous houses - some large, some small but all with gardens that run down to the river and have a jetty.

By 9.30 the cyclists are out. There are bikes and cyclists of all shapes and sizes. It's interesting to see how many families are cycling. Because there are no cars, this is popular for all the family. There are weird and wonderful bikes. Lots of kids have their own bikes but smaller children are stashed in sidecars or seats on the back of bikes. There are a few who seem to sit on the cross bar with feet in what looks like some version of a dustpan. Viewed from the front, the child seems to be sitting
under the protective breast of the parent, like a broody hen with her chicks peering out from under her.

As ever, the world gets going around 11am. At 10.30 there are relatively few people around. By 11 the place is thronging with people. I stop in Kingston for a cup of coffee. It's another town re-developed around the chains. Everything seems perfectly pleasant but the shopping mall looks and feels like every other new mall. High roofs, light and bright. Multifloored with balconies to maximise the light. Everywhere looks like this, and has the same shops. To add to a general sense of confusion I realise that this 'everywhere shopping mall' reminds me of GUM, the department store in Moscow.

The market square is also filled with chain stores but look up and there are plenty of older buildings. Some go back to the 15th century. The shop fronts look pretty much all the same but above them the architecture changes and takes you back through the centuries.There is the usual mix of old and new, but very few independent shops. But it's busy and little sign of recession here.

From Kingston I follow the river north. More cyclists, a few runners but running seems to be an early date and the numbers of runners are falling, just as the numbers of cyclists increase. It's now classic bank holiday mood. There are lots of kids and parents (a few grandparents here and there) and the cycling density increases. This is a non traffic route and so a prime route for parents keen to encourage their kids to cycle. There are varying degrees of enthusiasm from the kids.

The river is as busy as the pathway and with an equal range of people drifting up and down the river. There are gin palaces travelling at speed and smaller boats traveling more slowly. There are rowers, canoeists, and some form of multi-person canoe which looks as if it should be on a Pacific island and not the river Thames. Every couple of minutes someone shouts and they change paddles.

As I get close to Richmond there are more and more people. All keen to make the most of the late summer sunshine. Most are eating and drinking and keeping the economy turning. Little sign of recession here.

Sunday 28 August - Notting Hill

Decide to continue the relatively simple journeys and head off to the Notting Hill Carnival. I haven't been for decades. In the early 80s friends lived on the carnival route and so we could sit in the window and watch the parade go past and look down on the crowds. There are people selling whistles and vuvuzelas.

The carnival seems bigger and more organised now. People used to walk alongside the floats, now they don't. Stewards keep everything and everyone moving constantly. The sound systems are even more powerful and the sensation is less sound than feeling the beat reverberate through every muscle and sinew. Today is the day of the children's parade. The parade at times struggles to get past the photographers who are in front of every costume. There are minders behind each truck, keeping everything moving. A girl who is enjoying having an audience just that little bit too much, is moved on by the minder. She's taking too long, things need to run to time and he encourages her to move on and leave her audience.

Every few streets there are lines of portaloos which seem to be being used as points where people have left their rubbish. There are extraordinary amounts of litter, the detritus of food and drink and it is only just past lunchtime. The longest queues are for cash machines, where dozens snake in line waiting to get some cash. Almost all the shops are boarded up, only a few pubs and coffe shops are open. Paul Smith has at least painted their hoardings and wishes everyone a happy carnival. The others are plain boards, although the graffiti artists have been busy already.

There are thousands of people, in every direction there are people upon people. Police have closed some of the streets, but in between there are masses. Most are young, most are white. The carnival is much bigger than it used to be, but also seems to have become more of a tourist attraction. Everyone wants to take photographs and this holds up the parade. Smoke rises in the streets, meat is being barbecued on every street. Everywhere people are eating and drinking, Red Stripe and jerk chicken, which smells fantastic.

The music is rising, there is more and more dancing in the streets, but then down comes the rain and everyone heads for shelter. The heavens open, the streets are briefly running with water and the doorways fill with people. I am drenched and look like a drowned rat. There are youngsters out with video cameras chatting to people who have come to watch. Around All Saints Road there is a difference in the audience. The posh kids have arrived by tube at Notting Hill and walked north. The local youth have walked south and this is where the two are not really mingling. There is more music and dancing, but also more attitude.

I drift back through Hyde Park, the bass beat echoes in the distance but the Carnival feels like a world away. The park is filled with families feeding the ducks and geese. There are hundreds of adolescent starlings trying to steal bread from everyone and squealing as they go. A brass band are playing show tunes and attracting a small crowd. It's only a mile away but it's another world.

I end up drifting back through the park, followed by a very bold squirrel and walking through Hyde Park Gate - where I lived when I first moved to London in the mid 70s. Then it was possible to live centrally even if you weren't earning much (although you might have to share a room). What used to be cheap rented accommodation has now been fancied up and is evidently a very luxury home. Waiting for a bus home I am tempted into Slightly Foxed, a delightful bookshop where I find a proof copy of J B Priestley's English Journey. It's a tale of his travels around England in 1933. I've been trying to get a copy for months, so this feels like a real find. Home it is, reading about the luxuries of Priestley's motorbus journey to Southampton. He talks of modernity and it's interesting to see that talk of modernity has been around for a long time.

Saturday 28 August - Chelsea

I had planned to travel around the country but my car is sitting in a garage somewhere in south London waiting to see if it can be repaired. So my travels plans have changed. My new plan is to travel around London using my Oyster card.

First step of the journey is a trip to the King's Road to check if shoes are comfortable and whether bag is too heavy (and to buy a waterproof jacket, I have a hunch that autumn is about to arrive).

Battersea Park is full of dog walkers and runners. There is a fair degree of chaos as the dogs want to chase each other and risk tripping up the less aware runners. The runners don't seem to notice much around them; most are wearing headphones and a look of concentration mixed with determination. Like the
runners, the dogs come in all shapes and sizes. A very feisty chihuahua, a more laidback dalmation and the usual share of staffies. There is a lot of barking and rushing around, but no real aggression.

There is a farmer's market on the King's Road - a rather more upmarket farmer's market than most. The usual sausage stalls are replaced with on selling oysters. There are only a couple of places selling vegetables and a lot selling cakes. It's slightly more global than most, there are a few relatively local producers. The Rainforest foods are doing a roaring trade (although in truth they are probably more local than many here).

I wander back over the river and drift my way back to Battersea and wonder why I don't explore the area more often.

At last

I'd been hoping to travel around the country, but my car is broken and so I am travelling around London by public transport. The plan is to head off in a different direction each day ...I seem to be having problems with all forms of technology. Not only is my car not working but I seem to be unable to upload files to my usual 3 wishes blog and so for now will post here