Going back to my roots: 40 South Molton Street, London W1
great grandfather Edward, born 1870
When most people search back through their family tree, I suspect they're secretly hoping to uncover somebody famous. Not me. When I searched back through my family tree I was hoping to find a genuine Londoner. And with my great grandfather I hit the jackpot.
40 South Molton Street is about as central as London gets: just off Oxford Street, round the corner from Bond Street tube station and on the fringes of Mayfair. It's now an exclusiveshopping street full of designer labels, but a hundred years ago they made clothes here rather than selling them. My great grandfather Edward was born at 40 South Molton Street - the tall thin brick building in the centre of my photograph - and from here plied his trade as a tailor. I can't say I share his talent - even sewing on a button is too much effort for me - but I'm mighty envious both of his skill and of his geographical location.
On my family's last visit to the capital I took my nephews and niece back to see where their London roots lie. They were less than impressed, I suspect because the building wasn't Hamleys. They'd be even less impressed today because 40 South Molton Street is shrouded in scaffolding. If you're ever down this way, look out for the ugly frontage swathed in steel, plywood and green netting. The ground floor is now occupied by The Red Rock Cafe, a tiny catering establishment that makes its living feeding the passing fashion victims. I thought it might be a lovely idea to pop in one day and take lunch in my great grandfather's old home, but that was before I saw the prices listed on the menu outside. Call me miserly but I reckoned £6.40 was a bit steep for a jacket potato topped with cheese and beans, so I just had to make do with staring in through the window and scaring the patrons with my camera.
Going back to my roots: 40 South Molton Street, London W1
When most people search back through their family tree, I suspect they're secretly hoping to uncover somebody famous. Not me. When I searched back through my family tree I was hoping to find a genuine Londoner. And with my great grandfather I hit the jackpot.
On my family's last visit to the capital I took my nephews and niece back to see where their London roots lie. They were less than impressed, I suspect because the building wasn't Hamleys. They'd be even less impressed today because 40 South Molton Street is shrouded in scaffolding. If you're ever down this way, look out for the ugly frontage swathed in steel, plywood and green netting. The ground floor is now occupied by The Red Rock Cafe, a tiny catering establishment that makes its living feeding the passing fashion victims. I thought it might be a lovely idea to pop in one day and take lunch in my great grandfather's old home, but that was before I saw the prices listed on the menu outside. Call me miserly but I reckoned £6.40 was a bit steep for a jacket potato topped with cheese and beans, so I just had to make do with staring in through the window and scaring the patrons with my camera.
