And so ends diamond geezer's third annual tube week. Admittedly I only managed five days of tubular goodness, whereas people like Annie manage this sort of thing day in day out all year. But I continue to be amazed by how much interactive interest the London Underground inspires, and how much tube-related stuff remains to be written about at a later date. I mean, three years in and I still haven't written a tube week post about disusedstations. Maybe next year...
Tube watch (15)ssssh... Secret Stuff • Here's a special tube infrastructure map showing i) where all the depots are, ii) which company owns each line and iii) where all the disused stations are. Ssssh! • Tubeworker is a campaigning blog written by a disgruntled tube worker comrade. "Don’t mind us, we only work here." Ssssh! • Green Park station has three lifts, eleven escalators, six platforms, and step-free access between the Piccadilly and Jubilee lines. How do I know? Ssssh! • Shoreditch station closes next summer, forever, to make way for the East London Line extension. This deadline is tucked away deep inside London Underground's website, as are hundredsofotherfascinatingpages. Ssssh! • If you're delayed by more than 15 minutes on the tube, you can claim a refund online. And you can also complaingive feedback about your underground experience online too. Ssssh! They don't want everyone trying it...
Tube quiz (15)Name that station 1) the furthest i) north [Epping]ii) west [Amersham]iii) south [Morden]iv) east [Upminster] on the network 2) Which one of the above answers will change over the next five years, and to what? [1iii) will change to West Croydon, the southern terminus of the East London line extension] 3) the furthest i) north [King's Cross St Pancras]ii) west [Notting Hill Gate]iii) south [Sloane Square]iv) east [Aldgate] on the Circle line?
The tube network's 20 busiest stations (by peak flow), and the time when they're busiest 08:15 - 08:30 Stratford (16th busiest) 08:30 - 08:45 Bank/Monument (1st), Victoria (4th), Liverpool Street (6th), Moorgate (7th), London Bridge (8th), Baker Street (10th), Finsbury Park (11th), Euston (15th), Earl's Court (18th), Paddington (19th), 08:45 - 09:00 King's Cross St Pancras (3rd), Waterloo (5th), Green Park (9th), Holborn (12th), Embankment (17th) 17:45 - 18:00 Oxford Circus (2nd), Bond Street (13th), Tottenham Court Road (14th), Piccadilly Circus (20th) tubegeek comment: The City is busy early, mainline stations peak in the morning rush and the West End is busier in the evening
The ten busiest ¼ hours at the three busiest stations Bank/Monument 0800 0900 1000 ; 1700 1800 1900 Oxford Circus 0800 0900 1000 ; 1700 1800 1900 King's Cross St Pancras 0800 0900 1000 ; 1700 1800 1900 [data source here]
Tube watch (14)Tube watching Seen on the tube home tonight: three gangly teenage males in furry anoraks laughing and pointing down the carriage, a small man trying to read half of a half-opened newspaper, chattering Asian mothers, a City bloke apologetically shuffling his bulging gym bag across the floor of the carriage, a fat man sweating home oblivious of his all-pervasive whiffiness, two middle-aged middle managers manoeuvring forcefully towards the door as the train enters the platform, a strap-hanging suited woman staring aimlessly round the carriage, an snoozing bloke with brown sandals cuddling his brown leather bag as he sleeps, a pouting girl applying pinky-red lipstick as the train swerves through the tunnel, young secretarial types tapping away on their mobile phones, two city mates engaged in up-close post-work banter, a tired lady picking her teeth as she flicks through a magazine, a small child failing to wave goodbye to his auntie as the train departs, the same child letting go of an upright pole and having to be rescued from toppling by his worried father, a smiling student just three pages into a foreign novel, one huge yawn, is that woman trying to flirt with me?
Tube quiz (14)Name that tube line - the zone challenge 1) Zone 1 only [Circle, Waterloo & City] 2) Zone 2 only [East London] 3) Zones 1-3 [Victoria] 4) Zones 1-4 [Hammersmith & City] 5) Zones 1-5 [Bakerloo, Jubilee, Northern] 6) Zones 1-6 [Central, District, Piccadilly] 7) Zones 1-D [Metropolitan]
Tube geek (14)Going Underground Only 45% of the London Underground network is actually underground. The earliest underground railways were shallow sub-surface tunnels, dug using the cut and cover method beneath the roads of central London. By the time later lines came to be built there was only room beneath the ground for deep level tubes. But out in the suburbs the trains arrived in advance of the houses, so there was plenty of space on the surface and no tunnels were required. Today London has a total of 113 miles of tube tunnel (20 cut and cover, and 93 deep level) - an underground nirvana which no mobile phone signal can yet penetrate. So, where are these tunnels? Here's my line-by-line guide to subterranean travel (compiled via geoff's special underground map). I hope it's correct, near enough...
Where the Underground goes underground (very roughly) Bakerloo: Harrow & Wealdstone → Queen's Park → Kilburn Park → Elephant & Castle Central: West Ruislip → White City → Shepherd's Bush → Mile End → Stratford → Leyton → Leytonstone → Wanstead → Gants Hill → Newbury Park → Hainault → Woodford → Epping Circle: Edgware Road → Baker Street → King's Cross St Pancras → Farringdon → Barbican → Moorgate → Victoria → Sloane Square → South Kensington → Gloucester Road → High Street Kensington → Notting Hill Gate → Bayswater → Paddington → Edgware Road District: Ealing Broadway & Richmond & Wimbledon → Earl's Court → Gloucester Road → South Kensington → Sloane Square → Victoria → Aldgate East → Whitechapel → Stepney Green → Mile End → Bow Road → Upminster East London: Shoreditch → Whitechapel → Shadwell → Wapping → Canada Water → Surrey Quays → New Cross (Gate) Hammersmith & City: Hammersmith → Paddington → Edgware Road → Baker Street → King's Cross St Pancras → Farringdon → Barbican → Moorgate → Aldgate East → Whitechapel → Stepney Green → Mile End → Bow Road → Barking Jubilee: Stanmore → Finchley Road → Swiss Cottage → North Greenwich → Canning Town → Stratford Metropolitan: Amersham & Watford & Uxbridge → Finchley Road → Baker Street → King's Cross St Pancras → Farringdon → Barbican → Moorgate → Aldgate Northern: Edgware → Golders Green → Hampstead → ... / High Barnet & Mill Hill East → East Finchley → Highgate → South Wimbledon → Morden Piccadilly: Heathrow → Hounslow West → Hounslow Central → Barons Court → Earl's Court → Bounds Green → Arnos Grove → Southgate → Oakwood → Cockfosters Victoria: Walthamstow Central → Brixton Waterloo & City: Waterloo → Bank
Tube watch (13)Bow Road station update When renovation work on my local tube station began we were promised completion by October. Unfortunately that was October 2004, and the whole project has now dragged on almost a year longer than originally planned. Nothing major's happened for months, but the portakabin out the front of the station remains occupied while repairs and renewals continue intermittently inside. New poster frames are still being erected, old surfaces are being repainted, and only last week several random paving slabs on both platforms were mysteriously replaced. Having been wondering for months why this project has taken so long, I've at last uncovered 'the answer' inside September's edition of Metronet's in-house magazine (downloadable here). And who'd have guessed - it's all somebody else's fault...
Not that this appears to have stopped Metronet from installing huge lengths of new cable at Bow Road. It's been like the spaghetti harvest above some parts of the platforms and stairwells, even if much of the new wiring has now been hidden away inside non-heritage plastic ducting. And as for the 'Section 12' excuse, this relates to special fire safety regulations which apply only to stations which are 'wholly or partly underground'. That's 40% of all the stations on the network, then, including several which Metronet have yet to renovate. But reading elsewhere in the article it seems that an end to the Bow Road upgrade nightmare may (really, genuinely) be nigh.
Tube quiz (13a) (for everyone): Parklife How many tube stations can you name which contain the word Park? [You've found all 24: Belsize Park, Canons Park, Chiswick Park, Elm Park, Finsbury Park, Green Park, Holland Park, Hyde Park Corner, Kilburn Park, Moor Park, Newbury Park, Northwick Park, Park Royal, Queen's Park, Ravenscourt Park, Regent's Park, St James's Park, Stonebridge Park, Tufnell Park, Upton Park, Westbourne Park, Wimbledon Park, Wembley Park, Woodside Park]
Tube quiz (13b) (for Londoners): Non bus-y stations How many tube stations can you name which aren't served by a bus route? (i.e. are more than three minutes walk from a bus stop) [So far we've definitely got Arsenal, Barons Court, Covent Garden, Fairlop, Moor Park and Shoreditch. Any more?]
Tube geek (13)Rolling stock Very different types of rolling stock run on London's different tube lines. Some of this is age-related - for example renovated 1961 carriages are still in use on the Metropolitan line, whereas the Jubilee boasts more modern 1996 stock. But trains are also different because tube tunnels come in two different sizes - taller and wider on sub-surface lines like the District and Circle, and squatter and narrower on deeplevel tubes like the Bakerloo and Piccadilly. And trains are also different lengths, usually because platforms are different lengths - longest on the Central and Victoria lines and shortest on the Waterloo & City. You can peruse the full technical specifications for all London Underground tube trains here. Or simply scan through my special summary table below. But I need some help with the 'Comfort' rating on the bottom row... any thoughts?
Met1
H&C2
Dis
Vic
Bak
Cen
W&C
Pic
Nor
Jub3
Introduced0
1961
1970
1979
1967
1972
1992
1993
1993
1995
1996
Carriages0
8
6
6
8
7
8
4
6
6
6
Train length metres4
132
93
111
130
115
132
66
108
109
109
Train height metres5
3.69
3.68
3.63
2.87
2.88
2.87
2.87
2.89
2.88
2.88
Train width metres5
2.95
2.92
2.84
2.64
2.64
2.62
2.62
2.62
2.63
2.63
Train weight tonnes0
216
156
146
203
167
170
86
157
176
156
Seating capacity0
448
192
280
304
264
272
136
228
248
200
Standing capacity0
1045
958
958
926
816
930
518
798
773
873
Crush capacity6
1493
1150
1238
1230
1080
1202
654
1026
1021
1073
Double doors7
20
24
0
16
14
16
8
12
12
12
Single doors7
4
0
24
12
11
14
8
10
10
10
Comfort (out of 10)0
9
2
3
6
4
7
6
?
7
8
Note 1: Includes Metropolitan and East London lines Note 2: Includes Hammersmith & City, Circle and District (Wimbledon branch) Note 3: Increasing to seven carriages this Christmas Note 4: dg estimate, based on length of carriages plus a couple of metres for couplings Note 5: The first three columns are sub-surface trains, the rest are smaller deep-level tube trains Note 6: Crush capacity = Seating Capacity + Standing capacity Note 7: One side of the train only
Tube watch (12)Tube games (a clickable selection) • The London Game - a mighty fine 70s board game that my family used to play slightly too often. Still available from the London Transport Museum Shop(images here, travel version here) • Lobo - a 1930s card game based on the London Underground. See the station cards (most evocative), the rules, and what the network looked like at the time. • The Last Tube - an online interactive adventure from the promoters of tube horror film Creep (impressively playable for a freebie, but rather memory-hungry) • Adventures Underground - slightly interactive online game for kids, courtesy of the London Transport Museum again. Would you like to go on an adventure with Toby the train? • Mind The Bombs - tasteless (and very loud) online game which the Sun newspaper thought was sick (but I just think is rubbish). • TombRaider3 [Level 13] - Aldwych • MorningtonCrescent (rules here)
Tube quiz (12)Name that (closed) station 1) closed on Saturdays [Shoreditch] 2) closed on Sundays [Chancery Lane & Cannon Street] 3) no entry on Sunday afternoons [Camden Town] 4) closed before 7am [Shoreditch & Kensington Olympia] 5) closed after 8pm [Roding Valley, Chigwell & Grange Hill] 6) closed until next year [Heathrow Terminal 4 & Queensway] 7) the last three stations to be closed forever [Aldwych, North Weald & Ongar - on 30th Sept 1994] 8) the next station to be closed forever [Shoreditch]
Tube geek (12)Barrier codes How annoying is it when an automatic ticket barrier refuses you passage? You may try inserting or swiping your card again, usually to no effect, but usually a queue of frustrated travellers builds up rapidly behind you and you have to shuffle off to get your ticket checked manually. It happened to the bloke in front of me at Bow Road yesterday. He was baffled, but the small green number 11 that flashed up briefly on the barrier's electronic display revealed to those of us in the know what his ticketing sin had been. Naughty man. Below are some of the more common ticket/Oyster error codes and their meanings (and if you want the full list you'll find it here).
00 Valid ticket 03 National Rail only (no Underground validity) 07 Code unreadable (usually when ticket is upside down) 09 Ticket damaged 11 Out of date 12 Not valid at this time of day (e.g. Off Peak Travelcard before 0930) 13 Under value (additional fare due) 19 Start date in future 21 Ticket already used for entry 22 Ticket already used for exit 24 Has season ticket but travelled out of zone and has insufficient Pre Pay to cover extension 25 Unstarted journey 26 Entry and exit at same station 34 Exit not allowed (Pre Pay not validated on journey) 41 Ticket used three times in quick succession at same station (entry-exit-entry or exit-entry-exit or purchase-entry-exit) 42 Pass back - double use in one direction 51 Already used for 1 journey (single) or 2 journeys (return) 61 Too long spent making interchange 82 Illogical use of ticket
Tube watch (11)One hour later Lots of Londoners would like the tube to run later in the evening. To be honest many drunken partygoers and debauched clubbers would like it to run all through the night, but that's never going to happen because an overnight gap is needed for cleaning and maintenance. Earlier in the year Londoners were asked to vote on a compromise - running services an hour later on Friday and Saturday nights. The results of the survey are now in (in enormous and fascinating detail) and, what do you know, 73% of respondents were in favour. But the proposals would also mean starting tube services one hour later on Saturday and Sunday mornings, and this was by no means universally popular. "How are we going to get to the airport for our early flights?" wailed some, concerned that the first tube from central London to Heathrow on a Sunday morning wouldn't arrive until nine o'clock. And "How the hell are we going to get to work?" asked those who work shifts or weekends, and who face either loss of earnings spent on taxi fares or loss of sleep caused by having to catch a slower, earlier nightbus. The key message from the survey results seems to be that while a later finish might benefit those who choose to have a night out, a later start would disadvantage key workers who have no choice whatsoever. So, expect nothing to change. Or maybe a compromise "half hour later".
Tube quiz (11)Spot the genuine apostrophe a) Canon's Park, b) Dolli's Hill, c) Earl's Court, d) Gant's Hill, e) Golder's Green, f) King's Cross St Pancras, g) Knight's Bridge, h) Queen's Park, i) Rayner's Lane, j) Regent's Park, k) St James's Park, l) St John's Wood, m) St Paul's, n) Shepherds' Bush (Correct apostrophes now underlined. Congratulations to Pashmina and Chz for spotting the lot)
Tube geek (11)Overcrowding Some tube lines are busier than others. Travel from Kensington Olympia to Earl's Court late in the evening and you'll probably have the whole carriage to yourself. But risk a trip southbound through King's Cross on the Victoria line in the early morning rush hour and you'll probably end up more squashed than the proverbial sardine. Here's a tubegeek guide to the busiest station-to-station journeys on the network at morning peak time (courtesy of Transport for London's stats department):
Busiest line: Victoria line southbound Finsbury Park → (10th busiest section) → Highbury & Islington → (3rd busiest) → King's Cross St Pancras → (4th busiest) → Euston → (busiest) → Warren Street → (2nd busiest) → Oxford Circus tubegeek comment: The most cramped conditions anywhere on the tube are to be found between Highbury & Islington and Oxford Circus, used by in excess of 42000 passengers every morning rush hour.
2nd busiest line: Central line westbound Leyton → (15th busiest) → Stratford → (14th busiest) → Mile End → (9th busiest) → Bethnal Green → (7th busiest) → Liverpool Street → (5th busiest) → Bank → (8th busiest) → St Paul's → (11th busiest) → Chancery Lane tubegeek comment: This explains why I never manage to open my newspaper on my morning commute into Central London
3rd busiest line: Victoria line northbound Victoria → (6th busiest) → Green Park → (13th busiest) → Oxford Circus
4th busiest line: Northern line northbound Clapham Common → (16th busiest) → Clapham North → (12th busiest) → Stockwell
TfL have definitions of what 'overcrowded' means, which I'll illustrate using a Victoria line train as an example: • Seating Capacity means "the total number of Seat Spaces on a given Rolling Stock type" [304 seats per train] • Crush Standing Capacity means "the maximum number of standing Customers that can be accommodated on a Train at a density of seven Customers per square metre" [one train has a standing area of 132¼m², so the Crush Standing Capaciity is 926] • Crush Capacity means "the sum of Crush Standing Capacity and Seating Capacity" [926+304=1230, i.e. more than three times as many passengers standing as sitting] • Fully Loaded Train means "a Train carrying a load which is equivalent to the Crush Capacity multiplied by 72kg" [1230×72kg = 88½ tons of passengers]
Time once again for diamond geezer to go totally tubular with another week devoted to the London Underground. Prepare for five days of quizzes, facts, commentary and obscure statistics. Two years ago I looked at average speeds, the busiest stations, the great north/south divide, picking the right carriage and journeys where it was quicker to walk. Last year I investigated the closest stations, the easiest interchanges, wheelchair accessible platforms, shortest possible journeys and the growth of the network (amongst other things). I wonder how much I'll manage to cram in this year. Mind the doors.
It's an act of faith placing your bank card into a cashpoint machine. You might scrutinise the machine's metal front for evidence of potential tampering, just for a split second, but generally there's no reason why your card shouldn't be completely entrusted to the mechanised interior. You push your small plastic rectangle into the little slot, watch it disappear, do your business and then expect your card to come back. I've been using cashpoints for twenty years (because they're bloody convenient and they save queueing inside the bank for hours) and nothing's gone wrong yet. Until yesterday, that is.
There's a pair of cashpoints on the landing halfway down the escalators at Cutty Sark DLR station. It's always struck me as a strange place for a financial facility, suspended in some artificial transport netherworld, but at least it's usually quiet. It was very quiet yesterday afternoon so I decided to stop off and withdraw some money. I didn't really need some, I could have survived a few more days on the cash content of my wallet, but the convenience of the opportunity attracted me. Drat. And I could have chosen the cashpoint on the right rather than the cashpoint on the left because they were both available, but I didn't. Double drat.
I didn't mean to ask for a balance enquiry on my account, I just pressed the wrong button. Never mind, I thought, I'll just go through the motions, wait a bit and then request a withdrawal. Alas no. It was at this point that the cashpoint's internal computer rebooted. I was no longer being presented with procedural options, just a screenful of technical processing commands - rather like watching a late 20th century PC spluttering back into life after some random internal glitch. The rebooting continued, very very slowly, with more techie gibberish followed by complete and utter blankness. Damn. I stood helplessly watching the empty slot from which it was becoming increasingly evident my card was never going to return. A succession of other travellers used the cashpoint to my right, successfully each time, probably wondering why on earth I was hanging around quite so suspiciously by their side. And finally the stark green words Temporarily Out Of Service flashed up on my screen, and my monetary bereavement was complete.
This is presumably where you expect me to tell you of my continued tale of woe. How I checked my online bank statement and discovered several mammoth withdrawals from a high street I've never visited. How I rang my bank's service centre and spent fifteen munutes struggling to explain to an illiterate foreigner that my card had mysteriously vanished. Or how I'm going to be left destitute for weeks before my replacement card arrives. But no. A human being with a friendly Scottish accent answered my call a split-second after I pressed the button for 'stolen or lost cards'. My replacement card and PIN number should be arriving separately in the post within the week. And if I need any money in the meantime all I have to do is pop into any Abbey branch with photo ID and a bank statement and they'll pay up. Not all UK customer service is yet crap. Hurrah! Although I do have this nagging doubt that as many as three important letters have disappeared on their way to my letterbox over the past few weeks, so I'll not start feeling too optimistic until my new card arrives. And damn, I used to know my 16-digit card number off by heart - now I'll need to learn a new one...
Hurricanefacts • Tropical cyclones are called hurricanes in the Atlantic and typhoons in the Pacific. • Hurricanes rotate anti-clockwise in the northern hemisphere, and clockwise in the southern hemisphere. • For a hurricane to form, ocean temperature must be at least 26½°C down to a depth of at least 50m. • One third of Atlantic hurricanes form in September, and three quarters between August and October.
Hurricane force: Force 1 (minimal): 74-95mph [110 have hit the US since 1851, 1 of them this year] Force 2 (moderate): 96-110mph [72 have hit the US since 1851] Force 3 (extensive): 111-130mph [73 have hit the US since 1851, 2 of them this year] Force 4 (extreme): 131-155mph [19 have hit the US since 1851, 1 of them this year] Force 5 (catastrophic): 156+mph [3 have hit the US since 1851 - in 1935, 1969 and 1992]
• Hurricane Able was the first named hurricane, in 1950. • Only female names were used from 1953 until 1979 - now hurricanes alternate in gender. • A list of 21 names is picked for each hurricane season. Lists repeat every 6 years. • This year's list will be reused in 2011, but Katrina and Rita will almost certainly be retired. • There are only four names left on this year's list. If the names run out (which would be the first time ever) then Greek letters will be used instead.
While I've been writing about Open House and ITV's 50th, a number of other notable events and anniversaries have slipped under the radar. Here's a few that I missed...
Sunday, 18 September, 2005 Fifty years ago Britain officially annexed the tiny islet of Rockall, a remote rocky outcrop located 287 miles west of mainland Scotland. Back in 1955 a Royal Navy helicopter lowered two sailors onto the island's only narrow ledge where the Union flag was raised in a shamelessly political attempt to extend British territorial waters. And then they left. An SAS chappie lasted five weeks on Rockall back in 1985, but the only current inhabitants are a few squawking seabirds. When listening to the shipping forecast I've always wondered... (etc etc)
Monday, 19 September, 2005Dr Thomas Barnado died 100yearsago today. He's famous for his pioneering children's homes, the first of which opened in 1870 just down the road from me in Stepney. When I was a kid living in cosy suburbia I had a Barnardo's collecting box shaped like a little cottage, in which I (occasionally) used to collect a piddling amount of small change. Every year all of the cottage-fillers in my village were invited to a big garden party at which our boxes were ritually opened and copious thanks showered upon us. Unjustly, in my case, I suspect. I threw a pound coin into a Barnardo's collecting bucket at my local tube station tonight, and I had a nasty feeling that this single donation was larger than everything I'd ever managed to contribute to this fine charity in the past. Next year maybe I should... (etc etc)
Monday, 19 September, 2005 Everybody's favourite sitcom Fawlty Towers was first broadcast thirty years ago tonight. I remember sitting down and watching it as a curious ten year old, and loving it. Not that the case of Lord Melbury's mistaken identity was the best of the twelve episodes ever made, but all that farcical class snobbery we grew to adore was present right from the very start. John Cleese probably never topped... (etc etc)
Thursday, 22 September, 2005 We don't have libraries in Tower Hamlets any more. Libraries are old hat. Not even historic WhitechapelLibrary, the famous intellectual refuge which opened back in 1892 bringing books and culture to the poor undereducated masses of the East End. A huge collection of Jewish texts was built up, overtaken more recently by an even larger set of Bengali books, inspiring several generations to academic greatness. But 21st century locals don't want musty shelves any more, they want internet terminals and beanbags, so this remarkable building finally closed to the public last month. Its replacement is a shiny glass 'IdeaStore', up the road next to Sainsbury's, and it opens today. It's the only way to inspire the borough's youth, I know, but I can't help feeling that the Whitechapel Idea Store won't have anywhere near as significant a legacy as its eradicated counterpart... (etc etc)
Thursday, 22 September, 2005 The London Olympics open in precisely 2500 days time. Not long when there's a stadium or seven to build and an industrial wasteland to eradicate. So far almost nothing tangible has changed on the Stratford Olympic site, but what has changed is that even the tiniest non-event around here is now news. Potential killer turtle spotted; mini nuclear reactor uncovered; giant hogweed on the loose - everything hits the headlines now, however minor. But there's still approximately 500 days to go until the media can report the rather more newsworthy headline 'Olympic demolition starts'. Come visit while you still can... (etc etc)
7.15pm Opening night - live on air from The Guildhall
7.30pm The Hallé Orchestra perform Cockaigne (In London Town) by Sir Edward Elgar
7.45pm Inaugural speeches
8.00pm A sparkling Variety Show from ABC's Television Theatre
[8.12pm Britain's first TV advert, for Gibbs SR toothpaste]
8.40pm Robert Morley introduces excerpts from The Importance of Being Earnest, (starring Dame Edith Evans and Sir John Gielgud), Baker's Dozen (starring Pamela Brown and Alec Guinness) and Private Lives (starring Kay Hammond and John Clements)
9.10pm Professional Boxing - Terrence Murphy v Lew Lazar for the Southern Area Middleweight Championship.
10.00pm News and Newsreel
10.15pm Gala Night at the Mayfair - Leslie Mitchell introduces some of the guests.
10.30pm Star Cabaret with Music by Billy Ternant and his Orchestra.
10.50pm Preview - a glimpse of some of the programmes to come on Independent Television during the coming months.
London Open House: It's four years ago this week since I first moved to London, and events like Open House remind me just how little of the capital I've so far seen. It's always a joy to discover a new treat, and thankfully there must many more delights I have yet to experience. Here are details of the final three of the nine visits I crammed in this weekend [and my photos are here]
Crossness Pumping Station: There are always queues on Open House weekend, but I wasn't expecting to find them at an old sewage works on the Thames marshes in deepest Bexley. The old dear driving the ageing minibus from Abbey Wood station had never seen the like either. We'd endured a rattly journey past Thamesmead and down a godforsaken approach road, before being dropped off outside an unexpectedly ornate brick building in the middle of almost nowhere. The smell of effluent filled the air, which made the snaking queue of locals and curious centre-of-towners all the more surprising. The stench was coming from the modern sewage works just along the river but we were here to see its Victorian predecessor - the pioneering and palatial Crossness Pumping Station.
You'll remember from last month's journey down the River Fleet that London's sewage problem was finally solved in the 1860s by master engineer Joseph Bazalgette. Crossness was his crowning glory, the ultimate destination of all the icky brown waste in South London which was piped here so that it could could be stored in huge subterranean reservoirs before being pumped out into the Thames on the ebb tide. And to do the pumping Bazalgette constructed four huge beam engines, each able to lift more than a thousand gallons of sewage in one stroke. The scale of the operation is phenomenal, with 47 ton iron beams rising and falling with the rotation of enormous flywheels spinning beneath. Only one engine has so far been restored, by a group of willing volunteers who clearly love nothing more than the allure of steam and sooty hands. They've done a particularly good job on the decorative ironwork around the central 'Octagon', although even the rustiest corners of the building still retain a genuine industrial charm.
Crossness proved a fascinating building to explore, not just the main hall but also down into the dark pipe-filled bowels and up the winding staircase to the broad ironwork floor at beam level. We were only afforded a glimpse of the dilapidated Triple Expansion Engine House nextdoor, which still waits for an injection of Heritage Lottery Fund cash and for restoration. Meanwhile outside in the old boiler room (safety helmets off) a Museum of Sanitation is being established. Look - a row of old porcelain toilet pedestals! See - a collection of 19th century bedpans! Lo - a roll of Izal medicated toilet tissue! All a little twee perhaps, but the importance of this building to the long-term health of South London should not be overestimated. (full details on the highly informative and well-illustrated Crossness website)
TrinityBuoyWharf: It may sound ludicrous but London does indeed have its own lighthouse, situated on the thin strip of land where the river Lea enters the Thames, just to the north of the Millennium Dome. The lighthouse was never used to warn of underwater hazards but was instead kitted out by Trinity House back in Victorian times as a testing ground for their latest lighthouse technology. The site today is surprisingly inaccessible given its proximity to Docklands, with road access hidden away down a shabby industrial backstreet in the southeast corner of Tower Hamlets. There are great views of the Dome and the Thames from the top of the lighthouse, the interior artily filled by the computer generated ringing of Tibetan 'singing bowls' performing a 1000-year sound symphony (honest).
The rest of the wharf site is a strange mix of old and new, and oddly enchanting. An old red lightship is tied up a few yards from a genuine aluminium American diner. Brightly coloured metal containers have been piled up to create low cost office and studio space in a pioneering (keyword: sustainable) project called Container City, which us weekend visitors got to peer inside. Few central London office blocks can beat its low cost riverside panorama. And out at the end of Jubilee Pier I was surprised to be allowed access to the Vic 56 - an 85 foot long WW2 steamboat. There was no gangplank so I had to clamber aboard over the side of both the pier and the boat - rather inexpertly and inelegantly I thought. But it was a treat to wander the decks of this partly restored ship, clambering over ropes and climbing to the wheelhouse, and to meet and talk to the present owners. Seaworthy at least as far as Harwich, apparently, and no shortage of volunteers wanting to hide themselves away in the grimy engine room and stoke the steam engines.
Bank of England: There's only one bank to which we all belong but from which we can never draw money. All the more strange then to be allowed access to the Bank of England first thing on a Sunday morning. I had my rucksack searched by a top hatted security gent in a pink frock coat, and was then taken on a tour of (some of) this mighty fortress's interior by a softly spoken bank worker. As you'd expect the decor is magnificent, from fine crafted Derbyshire limestone walls to painstakingly beautiful mosaics underfoot. Corridors stretch off into the distance, a cantilever staircase rises seven storeys into the sky, and three floors of basement and vaults are hidden underfoot. We trudged through the Governor's office (he has a cheap black plastic government-issue pencil stand on his desk containing just one yellow highlighter pen) and on up the stairs to the room where the Bank of England decide the UK interest rate each month. Every wall and ceiling screamed opulence, especially in the facsimile Court Room, although we were assured that most of the bank's offices were rather more utilitarian. Our tour ended in the Bank of England's mini museum, where I took the opportunity to handle a genuine (and surprisingly heavy) gold bar - worth either 28 pounds or a hundred thousand pounds depending on whether you're weighing it or buying it. The queue was at least two hours long by the time I got back outside - bloody typical even for a top bank, I thought.
London Open House: Details below of three more properties I visited over the weekend. Still to come tomorrow, the room where they decide UK interest rates, a Victorian sewage cathedral and London's only lighthouse. [and see my photos here]
BBC Broadcasting House: The original BBC Broadcasting House was built in 1932, an Art Deco masterpiece at the top of Regent Street [explore the interior here]. Wartime news broadcasts, Listen with Mother and Desert Island Discs - they all came from here, as have millions more hours of BBC radio broadcasts. Now the building is undergoing refurbishment as part of a multi-million pound construction project (don't worry, none of it is coming out of the licence fee), due for final completion in 2010. To the east of old Broadcasting House a new building is being erected on the ruins of Egton House, and between the two there'll be a new public piazza where it's hoped concerts will be staged. On the roof of the east wing a glass cone sculpture [photo] has just been erected as a memorial to journalists and crew killed while on assignment. A laser beam installed inside will fire a beam of light high into the London sky at key moments of national importance (such as the death of a monarch or the start of the Ten O'Clock News). It's like the Batsignal made real, and it's due to be switched on for the first time next year.
As part of London Open House I was lucky enough to get a space on one of the very limited tours that took place this weekend, so I've been inside to see the old and the new. The Art Deco entrance foyer has been sympathetically restored, complete with Latin inscription to "the temple of the arts and muses" and a glowing white reception desk. We were taken inside up a narrow utilitarian 1932 staircase to the BBC Board of Governors' council chamber which, like the whole of the building, had been gutted and restored (now with sprung wood floor to conceal multimedia cabling). On the floor above we entered the holy of public broadcasting holies - the Director General's Office. It's empty at the moment, and will be until the whole building project is complete, but I felt quite at home in the DG's lair. On to a more modern facilty in the heart of the building - the new Radio 4 drama studio. The original studio suffered from vibrations every time a Bakerloo line train passed underneath, so the new facility has been very carefully sprung and soundproofed. There are front doors with knockers and bells for that authentic radio sound effect, as well as two sets of stairs, a bedroom and even a kitchen sink. Finally on to the new open-plan offices on the top floor and out onto the balcony at the front of Broadcasting House. We stood beside the big clock beneath the tall white 'radio mast' and enjoyed a most impressive view south over All Souls' church towards Regent Street [photo]. The whole tour, though brief, was a fascinating insight behind the scenes of a national landmark just before the broadcasters move back in. And I'm sure it'll be lovely when it's finished. (full details on the BBC's very detailed New Broadcasting House website)
Alexandra Palace: The BBC's other key acquisition in the 1930s was a failed amusement centre located high atop Muswell Hill in North London. Alexandra Palace had first opened to the public in 1873, and then promptly burnt to the ground 16 days later. The replacement building wasn't much more successful, long term, and so was vacant when the BBC came looking for a base for their inaugural high-definition television service. A competition was held between John Logie Baird and Marconi-EMI to see who had the better broadcasting technology, so two studios were built at either end of the building to give them both an equal chance. The world's first public television broadcast was made from the Baird studios on 2nd November 1936. Programmes were shown for just two hours a day (except on Sundays) and could only be received by the very few with appropriate receiving equipment living within 25 miles or so of the site. Eventually the 405-line EMI system won out, until the service was interrupted for six years by World War Two during which time the TV mast was used to jam German navigation signals instead. BBC TV production moved to Lime Grove in the Fifties but television news continued here until the Seventies at which point those bearded Open University types moved in. Then in 1980 Alexandra Palace was hit by another catastrophic fire, the BBC cancelled its lease and the studios fell into disrepair. (highly recommended histories of Ally Pally here, here and here)
Saturday's studio tour was hosted by the Alexandra Palace Television Society, whose dream it is to restore this unique slice of broadcasting heritage to some sort of working operation. These very keen amateurs have assembled a fine collection of historical televisual ephemera, from an old BBC television camera to 70-years worth of old TV sets. As part of their presentation we got to watch a video of the cinema newsreel that reported the opening transmission of the new television service in 1936. A Thirties glamourpuss sang a scarily over-the-top song in praise of television (X-Factor it wasn't), and the realisation that she had sung on the very spot where we were sitting sent a chill down my spine.
After an all-too-brief a look round the exhibits our next stop was back in the main building. Here the main attraction is now a municipal ice rink, and I don't think I've ever seen quite so many cocky adolescent girls in fluffy hooded jackets and snarling sportswear-attired boys as I did in the lengthy snaking queue. We headed instead to the old Victorian Theatre. Nothing quite prepared us for the experience as we emerged from the foyer into a cavernous dark space that had once been an auditorium. The theatre had never quite been a success, not least because acoustics and lines of sight were poor, and several decades of neglect made for a very sorry sight indeed. Naturally there's a charitable band of volunteers dedicated to restoring the rotting boards and crumbling ceiling, although I couldn't help thinking they were in danger of spending several years and several hundreds of thousands of pounds on rescuing a theatre that couldn't possibly stand on its own two feet financially. Still, good luck to them, and if you ever get the opportunity to peer inside, do.
19 Princelet Street: Tucked away in a quiet street between Spitalfields and Brick Lane lies a unique 18th century silk weaver's house, now an extraordinary museum. Over the years this house has been occupied by generations of immigrants, first Huguenots fleeing from France and later Jews who built a Victorian synagogue in the back garden. Astonishingly the house and synagogue still stand - but only just, and £3 million is needed to stave off the threat of decay and possible collapse. The exhibition inside depicts the history of East End immigration, right up to modern Bangladeshi and Somali arrivals, using the symbolism of piled-up suitcases. Impressively the majority of the displays throughout have been contributed by local Tower Hamlets schoolchildren, most of whom are immigrants themselves. It's genuinely inspiring stuff, putting across powerful messages with simplicity and clarity. No wonder there were queues outside all weekend (thanks for keeping me company, Ben). Due to the house's fragile nature the museum is only open for a handful of days each year, but I'd urge you to visit this hidden treasure at the next available opportunity. (make a virtual visit to 19 Princelet Street here)
London Open House: It's that weekend again, the one where hundreds of London properties open their normally-closed doors to the public (but no Gherkin this year). There are probably too many buildings open, to be honest, because you'd need more than one lifetime to get round them all. But I managed five yesterday from across the capital, and I'm off out again today to visit some more (so I'm in a bit of a rush). Here's where I've been so far, and I'll come back tomorrow and tell you a bit more about the top two.
• BBC Broadcasting House: currently closed during a hu-uuge rebuilding project. I've stood on the roof, I've stood in the new Radio 4 drama studio, and I've even stood in the DG's office. Which was kind of appropriate. (more tomorrow)
• AlexandraPalace: I can't tell you how spooky it was to watch a video of the world's very first television programme in the same studio (on the very spot) where that broadcast was recorded. (more tomorrow)
• Wellcome Trust, Gibbs Building: This year-old office space on the Euston Road won the RIBA 2005 Prize for its architecture, and from the inside you can see why. There's a huge central atrium, there are several floors of glass-walled open workspaces and, most impressively, there's a stunning seven-storey sculpture (called Bleigiessen) made from a hundred thousand glass beads threaded on thin wires in a sort of danglyglobbyshape that glows and shimmers. See photo left. Lovely.
• Kingsley Hall: A few hundred yards down the road from me, in Bromley-by-Bow, there's a community centre with a unique history. I've written about the place before (full history here) but I'd never previously ventured inside. Mahatma Gandhi stayed here for several weeks in 1931 on his only visit to London, advancing the case for Indian home rule (and meeting local people), while psychologist RD Laing took over the centre in the 60s for a not terribly successful schizophrenia project. The current beardy centre manager showed a leftish group of us around, from the pool tables on the first floor to Gandhi's tiny cell on the roof. I was most impressed by the commitment of all those here to peace and to the community, and it's a place I'm proud to have as a neighbour. (more information here)
• A13 Artscape: Of all the things I could have done yesterday afternoon, I chose to take a minibus tour down the A13 through Barking and Dagenham. You might think that I was mad. I was certainly the only person on the tour (although I was told that the noon tour had been packed). But I wanted to see a pioneering urban art project which has engineered new landscapes and landmarks alongside what it has to be said is one of London's dreariest arterial roads. My guide in the minibus was the borough's Head of Arts Services, so she was duly passionate about a couple of subways, a lot of fencing and some lights on sticks. And, by the end of the tour, so was I. The various projects along the road are both innovative and functional, from the airport-style lights of Holding Pattern to the towering tarmac cones on the Goresbrook roundabout. The upgraded subways heal the scar cut across underprivileged communities by the A13, and carefully chosen fencing and tree-planting will give the road a new kind of rhythm. Four million quid has transformed dreary and unsafe locations into welcoming public spaces of which the borough are rightly enormously proud. The rest of London would do well to follow their lead. (official website here)
The Friday puzzle (harder): Place a digit from 1 to 9 in each box so that the totals across and down are correct. Numbers may not be used more than once in each row or column.
30
10
20
10
20
17
13
(In Japan this sort of thing is called Kakro, in the Guardian Kakuro and in the US Cross Sums. Play online here) (And did you try my 3-dimensional Sudoku last Friday?)
Don't you just hate Fridays? Number of days until Christmas: 100 Number of shopping days until Christmas: 100 Number of days until next bank holiday: 101 Number of days until next vaguely warm bank holiday: 210 Number of days until the sun next rises before 6:30am: 174 Number of days until the sun next sets after 8pm: 213 Number of days until next summer: 278 Number of days until next August: 319 Number of days until t-shirt weather returns: too many
A sponsored walk through 21st century London (St Paul's Cathedral - Dr Johnson's House, < ½ mile, 4 hours) [map]
Stage 1 (75 metres): Our walk starts outside St Paul's Cathedral, which is a big old nipple-domed temple or something. They serve wine (and mini bagels) here on Sundays, but that's no good to a thirsty tourist like you so let's move on quickly. Wander north into Paternoster Square, a collection of modern concrete buildings much admired by architects and the public alike. Soulless - that's how we like our religious experiences these days. Time for that coffee you've been promising yourself. Nip into the Starbucks on the corner of the square and treat yourself to a grande Cappuccino and a shrink-wrapped blueberry muffin. Perfect. [Starbucks, 1 Paternoster Sq, London, EC4M 9AD]
Stage 2 (75 metres): When you're relaxed and ready it's onward through the alleyway to Ludgate Hill. This is one of the most historic roads in London, but that's not important when there's shopping to be done! Thankfully the street also boasts a bijou-sizedStarbucks where you can sit down and plan your next pampering purchases. Accompany your deliberations with a refreshing Frappuccino Light and a slice of blueberry swirl cheesecake for good measure. Perfect. [Starbucks, 30-32 Ludgate Hill, London, EC4M 7DR]
Stage 3 (50 metres): After a short rest it's time to continue your strenuous walk across London. Or just across the road in this case, where another familiar green Starbucks logo beckons. It's the ideal spot to pause and reflect while staring out through the long glass window at the hustle and bustle of the street outside. And there's plenty of time for a classic Caffè Latte, and maybe a luxury almond croissant too. Perfect. [Starbucks, 57 Ludgate Hill, London, EC4V 6DR]
Stage 4 (150 metres): This next stretch of the walk is rather on the long side, but take heart because it's all down hill. Take care to maintain your haughty cosmopolitan aura as you tackle the busy pedestrian crossing at Ludgate Circus. Designer retail outlets abound, but head instead for the welcoming comfy sofas of the Starbucks at the bottom of Fleet Street. A handcrafted Caramel Macchiato makes for heaven in a mug, with a Prawn Caesar Wrap to quell those lunchtime hunger pangs. Perfect. [Starbucks, 32 Fleet Street, London, EC4Y 1AA]
Stage 5 (75 metres): Fleet Street was once the haunt of alcoholic journalists. Clearly they didn't have coffee available in quite such abundance in those days. Mmm, caffeine, it's so addictive isn't it? Don't worry - you can get your next fix at another Starbucks just a few metres up the road. Quick, before you start to get withdrawal symptoms. A Caffè Americano should calm your nerves, with a slab of Marshmallow Twizzle for that rapid sugar high. Perfect. [Starbucks, 90-91 Fleet Street, London, EC4Y 1DH]
Stage 6 (125 metres): Coffee. Need coffee. Now. Stumble further up street. Head buzzing. Locate Starbucks. Push open door. Demand triple espresso from barista. Wait. Wait longer. Oh come ON! Grab mug of steaming brown liquid. Gulp down sweet sweet caffeine. Aaaah!! And how about a frosted orange cake to clear the palate? Perfect. [Starbucks, 151-152 Fleet Street, London, EC4A 2BU]
Stage 7 (50 metres): Dr Johnson wrote a big dictionary 250 years ago and his house is now open to the public. But who cares? The curators don't serve drinks, so why bother going? Go home instead. And take some Fairtrade Blend beans with you, because you're not getting any sleep tonight. It's the future, you know. [Starbucks, everybloodywhere within 5 years]
Cricket quiz: Quick, while everybody's still interested, here's a cricket quiz. Below are clues to the names of the 18 firstclass English County Championship counties. Some are clues to the recognised abbreviation (eg Herts), some to the name with 'shire' omitted (eg Hertford) and some to the complete county name (eg Hertfordshire). (Not that Hertfordshire is a first class cricket county, you understand). How many cricketing counties can you identify?
1) brown sauce 2) Corrie's Raquel 3) batter pudding 4) Arctic termites 5) magician Geoffrey 6) local grudge match 7) celebrity body part
12) mix paint (not matt) 13) Heartbreaker Dionne 14) Mr Christian Andersen 15) sus sus sus sus sus sus 16) reef, sheepshank, granny 17) the 19th and 24th letters 18) Superman's secret identity
8) what a sheep with a thin fleece has 9) halfway between foreplay and orgasm 10) most of these jellies are still watery but... 11) "Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry"
Wasn't the cricket amazing yesterday? Not the game, or even the result, but watching other people in the office's reactions to it...
Some people were finding it very difficult to concentrate on work yesterday. Come 10:30 and they started looking distracted, even disturbed, as they came to terms with not being able to watch the conclusion of England's Ashes challenge. Typical - a fortnight ago they were all ready to spend their bank holiday watching the end of the Fourth Test but it finished a day early, and today they were trapped at work when the Fifth dragged on to the final Monday. Thank goodness for the internet. Before long they were suffering from Repetitive Refresh Syndrome, checking up on the latest score at increasingly frequent intervals, just in case. Would the next online update reveal sought-after runs or a fallen wicket? A depressed murmur spread around the office upon each dismissal, led by the surfer monitoring the most on-the-ball website, and the outlook blackened as consecutive wickets began a rapid tumble. To some of my more pessimistic colleagues this was surefire evidence that our national team was about to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, again.
After lunch the armchair pontification continued. Discussion concentrated on leg spin bowling, over rates, the probability of rain, the consequences of a lower order batting collapse, and oh bugger we've just lost another one. Some newly-converted fans began to display their lack of in-depth knowledge of the game (erm, exactly when is tea, actually?). And even those with no previous interest whatsoever felt compelled to enquire how the game was proceeding, not that an answer of '206 for 7' meant anything to them because cricket isn't a game you can explain in a couple of minutes. One particularly unfortunate manager, a true Test addict, was gutted to discover that a particularly important meeting had been scheduled during the late afternoon, severing his online lifeline to the developing pitched battle. For others the tension was all too much and they scuttled off home during the tea break to soak up the tension of the closing overs in front of a television screen.
I hope they made the most of tonight's final on-screen experience because watching live test cricket on television is about to become a restricted practice, exclusive only to those signed up with Rupert Murdoch's premium satellite services. When the Ashes are next fought on home soil the majority of supporters will have to content themselves with the radio commentary, or ball-by-ball web updates, or even watching the numbers change on Ceefax. Sure there'll be some delayed terrestrial TV highlights in the early evening, but where's the tension in that? My congratulations to the English Cricket Board on their recent multi-million pound broadcasting deal, which I'm sure will boost the coffers of a beleaguered sporting organisation. But I hope the ECB won't despair when a new generation of children grow up never having watched a test match and choose instead to become fans of football, athletics or even baseball.
Oh and we drew, by the way, so we won some crematedwood. I think. It's all so bloody complicated.
I visited a tourist attraction on the outskirts of London over the weekend. I don't need to tell you which one (because I'm saving it for a feature I have planned for November) but I will tell you the one thing that struck me most about my visit - the lack of other visitors. Not that the site was in any way empty. The attraction was staffed by an army of volunteers: collecting the entrance money, selling souvenirs, stewarding in the car park, leading guided tours around the site or just wandering around and keeping the few visitors happy. Some volunteers stood waiting beside their displays in case anybody wandered up and wanted to ask a question. Some prepared sandwiches in case a hungry diner had failed to bring their own. And a large group of weekend-only soldiers recreated a pitched historical battle, complete with real guns and explosions, to an audience considerably smaller than their own regiment. The whole day out was professionally executed to a very high standard, but I couldn't help thinking that all this effort was somehow wasted on the few of us who'd actually bothered to turn up.
There are hundreds if not thousands of tourist attractions in the London area, each with a potential audience within travelling distance of more than ten million. And yet half of a thousandth of one percent of them had bothered to share my day out with me. Presumably the rest were out shopping, or were watching the cricket, or were visiting somewhere else, or were too poor, or were just wholly disinterested. It's much easier somewhere like Ipswich, where the number of visitor attractions barely scrapes into double figures and is easily assembled into one manageable list. But try searching for somewhere to go in London and it's much harder to pick out the tiny gems amongst the big name attractions, and the smaller sites often drown in relative obscurity. So the volunteers turn up, unlock the gates, hang around for almost nobody to turn up, wait all day, then go home ready to repeat the whole process again and again. Why do they bother?
I expect it'll be even worse at London Open House weekend next week, not least because of a wholly unwieldy search engine. A few big name projects in the centre of town will have queues stretching round the block, while special one-day openings at tiny properties in Upminster, Croydon or Ruislip will go unnoticed. And it all comes down to choice. The public like a wide choice so they can select where they want to go, but for such a choice to be available every option has to be fully staffed even if it's a choice nobody chooses to make. It's the same reason why buses run empty, why attendants in art galleries spend hours alone with their paintings and why charity shop workers wait hours for one potential purchaser who may never arrive. On another level it's why volunteers repair dry stone walls that only a few sheep will ever see, why neighbours pop nextdoor to talk to old people for whom they have no responsibility and why lifeboat crews ready themselves for incidents they hope will never happen. And, you could argue, it's why millions of bloggers bother to blog, even when virtually nobody else will ever stumble upon what they have to say.
If you think about it too hard, much of life is a complete waste of human time and resources. So much of what we all do goes unnoticed, overlooked and underappreciated. But thank goodness for volunteers, because society would be far less diverse and far more commercial without them. And a special thank you to the good people of north London who allowed me a fascinating glimpse back into the past over the weekend. I now have no need to go back, but I'm glad to know that you'll be there for the few that follow me. Thank you all for bothering.
(If theGuardian can switch to 'narrower and shorter', so can I)
Here's a six-month-old photograph of Mam's Fish Bar, BowRoad's premier takeaway establishment, with Mam herself staring out through the glass from behind her deep fat fryer. She ruled over an unfeasibly salmon-hued takeaway, in name a fish shop but in practice a kebab dispensary. If you wanted slightly charred flesh or a tray of grease-dripped chips, Mam was your woman. Her warm and genuine smile beamed out from beneath a shock of red wiry hair, swept back and piled high on top of her head. You could sit and eat her fatty produce while sat at one of the cheap and nasty tables bolted to the floor along the far wall, perhaps sprinkling each trayful with thin weak condiment dripped from non-brandname bottles. I never went in myself, not since her battered cod disagreed catastrophically with my digestive system, but the local teenagers and the minimum waged worshipped daily at her temple.
And then two months ago, without warning, Mam's Fish Bar closed down. It wasn't long before the old shop was hidden behind shiny new black shutters, and workmen could sometimes be seen inside installing gleaming new cooking equipment beneath big metal extractor fans. But there was no food on sale, until yesterday. Where once was Mam's shabby sign, now shines a startling illuminated slogan declaring The Thrill of the Grill. The fish and kebab silhouettes have been replaced by four gleaming red chilis, and two big red posters scream 'Now Open' to slightly more upmarket passers by. Everything's seems just too clean, and much less amateur. You just know that the previous owner would have written 'nOW OpEN' in thin red marker pen instead, probably on a page ripped out from a faded notepad, and spelt at least one of the words wrong. The new menu also looks much more professional and has substantially 'upgraded' in content - with codand chips replaced by jumbo king prawnsand chickpeas, for example, and steak and kidney pie vanishing altogether. But the biggest change of all is behind the counter. The new staff all look as if they're fresh out of school, standing there in a row beneath corporate red baseball caps, eagerly doling out grilled meat to the weak-willed consumers of Bow. But of Mam herself there is no sign. She's sold out to a Kebabish franchise, presumably in lieu of early retirement, and her presence has completely vanished off the face of E3. I shall miss her siren smile staring out from behind the glass, attempting to lure me in from the pavement for a 90p bag of chips. But I won't miss her fish.
Silver discs(September 1980) A monthly look back at the top singles of 25 years ago
The three best records from the Top 10 (9th September 1980) TheJam - Start: The second chart-topper for the Woking threesome, smashing in at number three in an era when records just didn't do that. The mid-sixties Mod influence had never been quite so obvious, and the jolting bassline owed more than a passing nod to the Beatles' Taxman, but it didn't matter because this was a mighty fine pop snapshot. "It doesn't matter if we never meet again. What we have said will always remain. If we get through for two minutes only, it will be a start. For knowing that someone in this life loves with a passion called hate, and what you give is what you get." David Bowie - Ashes To Ashes: I bet you can't think about this single without immediately picturing the accompanying video in which a pierrot-hatted Bowie walked on a purple lake followed by a group of weirdly dressed acolytes and a bulldozer. You could indeed argue that this three minute epic marked the dawn of video as a promotional art form, and certainly this perfect combination of sound and vision reignited Bowie's flagging career. Just for a bit, anyway. "Ashes to ashes, funk to funky, we know Major Tom's a junkie, strung out on heaven's high hitting an all time low. My mama said to get things done, you better not mess with Major Tom" Hazel O'Connor - Eighth Day: Debut single from the Breaking Glass LP, the soundtrack to the film that sprung feisty Ms O'Connor onto an unsuspecting world. This was loud, this was angry and this was exciting (even if the sax break in the middle of Will You was even better). It's great to see Hazel's still recording (new album here) and touring (she played Stroud last night) although with Celtic soul now replacing 80s punk she's mellowed a little too. "On the eighth day machines just got upset, a problem man had not foreseen as yet. No time for flight, a blinding light, then nothing but a void, forever night. He said: Behold what man has done, there's not a world for anyone"
The best five Top 40 new entries from this week 25 years ago [18] Queen - Another One Bites The Dust: John Deacon and the boys dipped their toes into deep dirty funk with this deviously simple guitar anthem, and also launched a new cliché into the English vernacular. [30] Stevie Wonder - Masterblaster (Jammin'): This single heralded the dawn of Stevie's commercial golden age, lifted from the seminal Hotter Than July album - the perfect accompaniment to many an early 80s fondue party. [36] Madness - Baggy Trousers: Here's where Madness hit the big time with their trademark nutty sound (and that great video with saxophonist Lee Thompson floating through the North London sky). SchoolDisco.com could never have happened without them. [That's three utterly classic new entries in one week - would never happen these days, would it?] [39] XTC - Generals and Majors: A typically clever anti-military track from one of England's most criminally underrated bands. Andy Partridge & Co's understated brilliance is easily the best thing ever to have come out of Swindon. [40] Splodgenessabounds - Two Little Boys: The Two Pints of Lager punk boys continued their 'two' theme with this aural assault on Rolf's most famous single. The 7 inch single came complete with free cardboard boomerang - which didn't come back.
10 other hits from 25 years ago: Feels Like I'm In Love (Kelly Marie), I Got You (Split Enz), One Day I'll Fly Away (Randy Crawford), I Owe You One (Shalamar), United (Judas Priest), Searching (Change), Three Little Birds (Bob Marley & The Wailers), You Shook Me All Night Long (AC/DC), Magic (Olivia Newton John), I Want To Be Straight (Ian Dury & The Blockheads)...which one would you pick?
3 dimensional Sudoku: Just to show I wasn't completely wasting my time during the two day residential conference I've just arrived home from, here's a 3D Sudoku-type puzzle I doodled on the back of the agenda during this morning's oh-so-thrilling session.
The diagram below shows a 3x3 cube chopped up into three layers - top, middle and bottom. Can you fill in the cube so that every layer and every 3x3 slice across and down contains all the numbers from 1 to 9?
Posted live from deepest Hertfordshire The worst thing about a 2 day residential corporate conference is having to spend the night in a standard boxy hotel bedroom. The bed's a foot too short and the and the sheets are too tight. The air conditioning is uncontrollable and the curtains are worryingly transparent. There are only two coathangers in the wardrobe, the light switch is just too far away from the bed, and the walls transmit every single sound from the room nextdoor. The only nourishment is provided by three pre-packed bourbon biscuits, all the milk squirts out of UHT cartons and the tiny kettle takes five minutes to boil. The shower is either ice cold or scalding hot, while the selection of luxury toiletries in the bathroom contains moisturiser and a sewing kit but nothing of any practical use. The only reading material in the room consists of a Gideon Bible and the laundry list, while the only (free) connection to the outside world comes via a small five channel TV and some malfunctioning teletext. Thank heavens for mobile phones. [5pm update: Damn, looks like my emailed blogpost got slightly truncated. It seems you just can't rely on mobile phones after all...]
diamond geezer is three years old today. Who'd have thought? I never expected things to turn out like this when I started writing one quiet Sunday afternoon back in 2002. Nobody looks very far into the future when they write their first post, do they? The virgin blogger just kicks things off by writing something brief and sketchy that they think nobody will ever read, and then sits back and waits to be proved wrong. And hey, sometimes it works.
To celebrate, here's my look at how blogs evolve (with apologies to William Shakespeare)...
1) Infant (mewling and puking in the nurse's arms) Typical post: "So this is my first post. Hello world. I'm not quite sure why I decided to start a blog, but everybody else is doing it so I thought I'd have a go. Erm, what shall I write about?"
2) School-boy (shining morning face, creeping like a snail) Typical post: "I had cornflakes for breakfast today. I am so hungover this morning. And didn't it rain a lot on the way to the office? Then Cally emailed me this really funny quiz - which Harry Potter character are you? I'm Ron who are you? Now I'm going to grab a coffee and then maybe get down to some work. I hope my boss here at Redford Officeware (hi Jonathan!) doesn't catch me blogging during work time!!"
3) Lover (sighing like a furnace, with a woeful ballad) Typical post: "Isn't blogging great? I love writing about my street and my childhood and my cat and my hypochondria. Look at all these photos of Nigels' barbecue I took at the weekend. Isn't his dog cute? But I wonder if my comments are working, because I never seem to get any. Well, apart from that comment from my boss Jonathan telling me to get back to work before I was sacked. Hey, you'll never guess what hilarious Google searches I found in my referrer log today..."
4) Soldier (jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel) Typical post: "Now I've got an audience, I'm determined to tell you all my opinions on world affairs. Every single one of them, in enormous depth, because my opinions are important and they're obviously correct. Which is why I couldn't believe the bullshit I just read on BluePatriot's blog. Does he not realise that Hurricane Katrina is a joint neocon/liberal conspiracy, and that President Bush is merely the figurehead? Wise up."
5) Justice (full of wise saws and modern instances) Typical post: "Hi to you if you've just arrived here from Slashdot or the BBC news page. That was a very incisive post I wrote there, wasn't it? I'm so cutting edge these days. Everybody was saying that to me down at the blogmeet the other day, so it must be true. I've had to boost my bandwidth to cope with the extra traffic though, so please click on my Google blogads on your way out. And please vote for me in the BestBlogEver Awards 2005. Have you linked to my site yet, by the way?"
6) Lean and slipper'd (pipes and whistles in his sound) Typical post: "Sorry it's been such a long time since my last post. I don't seem to have so much time for blogging these days, not since I met and married Chris, adopted those ten Albanian refugees and started my Open University PhD. Plus, you know, I really haven't anything new left to say any more."
7) Second childishness (mere oblivion, sans teeth) Typical post: "So this is my last post. It's been a hard decision, but I'm totally blogged out and I need to reclaim my social life. And my garden needs me. And I'm really not coming back after a couple of weeks, honest, not even if you write me fifty really positive ego-massaging comments..."
250000: Some time this morning, probably somewhere between eleven o'clock and noon, diamond geezer is due to receive its quarter-of-a-millionth visitor. Which is rather splendid timing. Quarter of a million people may sound a lot, but it's really only the equivalent of the population of Wolverhampton each clicking on my blog just once during the last three years. At this rate I should match Belfast by Christmas, Bristol by next September, Birmingham by 2010 and London in forty years time. Not that I'm complaining, you understand. Today's double milestone gives me another good excuse to update my regular 'league table' of top linking blogs, ordered by volume of visitors clicking here from there. Also included are the 'highest climbers' since my last update back in May. Thank you all for linking. Go on, go click on a few and return the favour...
Those are the full results for the last three years, but I thought it might also be illuminating to analyse just the hundred thousand visitors I've had since the start of 2005. Which provides the following, rather different, Top 20: [ 1234567891011121314151617181920 ] My additional thanks, therefore, to the six new faces appearing in this more current list. And thank you all for clicking, because I wouldn't have had quarter of a million visitors without you.
I was halfway through writing a really good post about breakfast cereals last week when I was suddenly forced to stop. I was trawling search engines for some meaty and nostalgic links about breakfast cereals (like this one, this one and thisone) when Google threw up a post that I'd already written on the same subject, here on this blog last year. I'd even used exactly the same theme - there are two kinds of breakfast cereal and neither of them are what they used to be. Damn, I'd already said that.
Yesterday I bought doughnuts for everyone at work to 'celebrate' (if that's the right word) our first anniversary of not working down Piccadilly any more. They were sugar-laden Krispy Kreme doughnuts (don't worry, I got them cheap), and the assembled hordes jumped in and wolfed them down like they were some kind of over-addictive Class A drug. Ooh, I thought, here's a contemporary cultural phenomenon I can blog about tomorrow. But no, because you probably remember I covered doughnuts in some depth a couple of months ago. Damn, I'd already said that.
Except there is still plenty more to say, thankfully. There's always something new to observe, and something original to contribute. The same things happen all the time, but in different ways, so there's always another fresh angle from which to approach potentially stale events. It's how the news manages to fill hours of airtime and acres of newsprint every day, and how married couples find something new to talk about each evening. That's why there's still lots more to be said on the subject of doughnuts, plenty more comments to be made about wheelie suitcases, and a heck of a lot more vitriol to be directed against my neighbours. But, to be honest, I suspect I could have got away with reposting that piece about breakfast cereals and not one of you would have noticed. Blogs are designed to give prominence only to the very latest posts, while older posts (however good) are quickly relegated to the oblivion of overlooked archives. Just like I said back in September 2003. Damn.
The DG 'countries' quiz: Let's try something with an element of skill for a change. How many countries can you name that start and end with the same letter of the alphabet? (And, er, are there any that don't start with... well, you'll find out...)
Update: So far you've come up with...
Albania Algeria American Samoa Andorra Angola Antigua and Barbuda Armenia Argentina Aruba Australia Austria
Central African Republic Czech Republic Deutschland Eire Nippon Seychelles Solomon Islands St Kitts Nevis St Vincent & the Grenadines Tibet
The DG 'spot the difference' quiz: It's time to find out who's won a fantastic prize in my 'spot the difference' quiz. Did you enter? You can't win unless you enter, can you? Did you spot the difference between these two photographs? Did you guess correctly? I mean, come on, the difference is pretty bloody obvious isn't it? It's almost as if this wasn't a quiz at all, isn't it? Not a game of skill in any way. Just a game of chance. A lottery where you think you have a good chance of winning but actually everyone's thinking the same thing so your chance of winning is actually rather tiny. And there can only be two winners. One of those is me, because you're all mugs. If you'd all sent in £1.50 like I asked then I'd be more than £40 richer by now. Just for posting a stupid photo of a cat in a hat. That's how it works on the television anyway. But there has to be another winner, one of you, otherwise those trading standards people will be down on me like a ton of bricks. So I've picked a winner*, at random. Honestly, purely at random. Check your email inbox. Could it be you*?
* Winner wins £40 next time I see them, or a gratuitous weblink, whichever is the cheaper. * Non-winners should content themselves with a visit to the Nohands Gallery.
eBay was ten years old yesterday. The site was initially called Auction Web and was worth nothing, and has since grown to become a fifty billion dollar global business. I must confess that I really don't see the attraction of eBay, but that's because it combines two of my greatest dislikes - shopping and sending packages by post. Why accumulate more stuff if you have enough, and why spend your time trekking round to the sorting office if your letterbox is too small. eBay is like a giant online car boot sale, selling stuff nobody wants to people who don't need it. But I do know several eBayaddicts who seem to spend all their time checking up on the progress of their latest sale, sneaking in at the last minute to poach a top bargain and popping down to the post office with oversized jiffy bags. So there must be something in it.
So I thought today would be the ideal moment to set up my own online trading portal - dgBay. Not only will I surely make my fortune, but I can clear out some of the rubbish in my spare room at the same time. Perfect. I'm starting off with five carefully selected items and inviting you to make a bid, if you're interested and/or gullible enough. [Terms and conditions available on request]
Coronation EditionRadio Times • it's meant to be that faded yellow colour, honest • includes ads for Aertex, Silver Shred & HP sauce [1953 - original cost 3d] Bids: Auction ends: 1d 9h 53m
The Race Into Spaceteacards album • complete filled-in album containing all 50 cards • a genuine Brooke Bond tea giveaway [1971 - original cost 5p, plus lots of tea] Bids: Auction ends: 10957d 0h 0m
Two black fluffy dice • with plastic sucker for easy adhesion • looks especially chavvy in a Ford Fiesta [1999 - unwanted leaving present] Bids: Auction ends: <1m
Queen's Golden Jubilee firework • as found in Green Park after firework display • ideal keepsake for any ardent royalist [2002 - casing only, slightly charred] Bids: Auction ends: 20h 02m
Three Creme Eggs • mmmm, lovely chocolate (not in shops) • available as a trio or singly [2005 - original cost 89p for three] Bids: Auction ends: 111d 17h 00m
For some reason September is always one of the busiest months for special events in the capital. This year the Mayor and his tourist chiefs have gathered them all together under one big umbrella and are promoting them as September in London. Some will be great, some will be good ways to pass the time and some will be underwhelming over-sponsored rubbish. See if you can work out which might be worth attending.
• Sunday 4th: The Tour of Britain comes to London for the final stage of this round Britain cycle race. After all the thrilling scenery of Scotland and Northern England, today the competitors have to put up with circling Whitehall 45 times. • Sunday 4th: Regent Street's been paved with grass today as it pretends to be an English country garden for the Regent Street Festival. There'll be farmers market stalls selling rural(ish) produce, but also a lot of posh shops hoping you'll go home laden with designer carrier bags instead of chutney. • Tuesday 6th:Texas (that's the middle of the road pop group) will be playing a special concert on Tower Bridge - appropriately in the middle of the road. • Sunday 11th: The 10th Brick Lane Festival mixes southern Asian culture, dance, music and curry (although hopefully not all simultaneously). • Thursday 15th: At last, a statue will be unveiled on the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square, the one that's been empty for years. It's Alison LapperPregnant, eight tons of big marble woman - and arrestingly armless. • Thursday 15th - Friday 30th: The London Design Festival showcases the capital's creative flair in architecture, product and graphic design. Includes the intriguing From Here ToHere collaborative arts project (about the 27 stations on the Circle line) appearing on posters at all 27 Circle line stations. • Friday 16th: 200 years after his death, Nelson's funeral flotilla is being recreated on the Thames today. The Lord Mayor will be joining some authentic-ish boats on their way from Greenwich to Westminster (but why oh why is this being held on a Friday morning?). There's a more modern Trafalgar River Race between Richmond and Greenwich on the Sunday afternoon. • Saturday 17th - Sunday 18th:London Open House is the public architectural highlight of the year, with 500 hard-to-get-into properties open for one weekend only. Last year I got to go down Churchill's Neasden bunker (hi Louise!), take a tour of the building site at St Pancras and queue for hours to see the view from the top of the Gherkin. I'm still flicking through this year's 72-page catalogue, but I'm sorely tempted by Crossness sewage pumping station. • Saturday 17th - Sunday 18th:Uncle Ken's Thames Festival is one of those wholesome multicultural family-based extravaganzas of the kind that councils can justify spending their taxpayers money on (you know - ethnic drummers, face-painting and strange food). Best time to visit is probably after dark on the Sunday for the Night Carnival and big fireworks. • Thursday 22nd onwards: The Riverfront Jazz Festival is a ten day series of concerts in the Greenwich area, for those who like their music soulful and out of time. • Sunday 25th: Bethnal Green hosts the Green Spaces festival, which is a festival in some of Bethnal Green's local green spaces. There's no website and the whole thing sounds desparately underplanned, but hey this is London and it'll probably all pull together.
Monkeying around: I bought an ITV Digital set-top box back in January 2002, annoyingly during the six week spell when they weren't giving away a free knittedmonkey. Imagine my delight at being able to receive several additional new TV channels (of, er, mostly rubbish). And then, four months later, ITV Digitalwent bankrupt, taking my new-found televisual freedom (and £100 of my money) with them. I suddenly became a creditor of a company under administration, lumbered with just four watchable TV channels. Thankfully my creaking old box was capable of receiving the new Freeview service that appeared later in the year, but there was still the issue of my lost hundred quid. And then this week, out of the blue, I received an official letter from the liquidators announcing that they were sharing out a first and final dividend of 9.1p in the pound, and enclosing a cheque for £9.19. Woohoo! British financial justice may be slow, but at least it gets there in the end. Maybe I should put my nine quid towards buying a digital monkey from the Gadget Shop - except that, bugger, they've gone bust too.
Bow Road update: I wonder what the world record is for the number of times a station door has been repainted, because the green entrance doors at Bow Road have now been repainted so many times that I suspect shares in Dulux must have shot through the roof. Close behind are the fire doors at the top of the westbound stairwell, and coming up fast are the green and yellow striped pillars on the westbound platform. A set of laser-jetted Caution - wet paint notices are being recycled all around the station, stuck to the wall beside a different newly gleaming surface every morning - or so it seems. Metronet's renovation work here is starting to feel like a never-ending resurfacing project - rather like the painting of the Forth Rail Bridge - only for no particularly good reason. Still, at least there's something going on at Bow Road this September, which saves me from spending another month writing about falling conkers...
I don't know who started the current trend for the money-grabbing dumbing down of television. It may have been Richard and Judy with their asininely easy phone-in competition Midday Money[Which of these is a type of hat? a) cat, b) cap, c) car]. It may have been Chris Tarrant's £100 questions on Who Wants To Be A Millionnaire[Which of the following means 'very cold'? a) sneezing, b) freezing, c) wheezing, d) breezing]. It may have been all those cheap daytime shows which started sandwiching every commercial break with a phone-in competition [Who was Queen Victoria's husband? a) Prince Albert, b) David Beckham] - although, to be honest, that one is perhaps a bit on the hard side. You might even argue it was the appearance of ITV on our screens, fifty years ago this month, that began the slippery slide into non-publically funded television. But, whatever the case, self-funding TV programmes appear to be the way forward. The BBC gets the licence fee, ITV gets its dwindling share of the UK's advertising cake, but the majority of new digital channels seem to be able to survive only if you the viewer can be conned into donating them money. Tempt the most gullible members of your audience into believing that they're clever and that they have a good chance of winning a big prize, and hey presto you have a cash cow on your hands.
I first noticed the advance of interactive TV scum last year while I was flicking through the lesser channels on my brother's Sky box. There, tucked in amongst the rap video montages, the QVC clones and the imported tele-evangelists, were a few glorified bingo channels fronted by voluptuous blondes who constantly urged you to ring in and play with their coloured balls. This was no-brain television, both to watch and to create. Then last month, fast-forwarding through the current Sky Digital line-up, I discovered that the situation had got several times worse. The latest infestation involves a series of phone-in quiz channels - either posing a series of blindingly obvious word/picture puzzles (essentially a lottery) or asking devious trick questions (essentially an on-screen con trick for the desperate). Still, at least none of this rubbish had invaded my own Freeview-based set. Until this week...
Quiz Call (Freeview channel 37) has brought lowest common denominator television to terrestrial viewers. Yes, lower even than Sky Travel, price-drop tv or Men & Motors. A series of earnest but lively presenters introduce the world's easiest puzzles, pretend they can't work out the solution and wave oversized banknotes at the camera. Later they drop blatant hints to the answer just in case your IQ isn't quite in double figures, wait for sufficient viewers to ring in (at 60p a call) and then take a call from someone to whom a prize of £50 is a life-changing amount. And repeat. The presenters witter on endlessly to encourage you to call in, whilst keeping very quiet about the fact that you can take part online for free. Every now and then they throw in a slightly tougher challenge to keep non-morons awake, or up the ante with a special Jackpot game (which 'Sarah' won on Wednesday night in suspicious circumstances). It's compulsively awful viewing, but rather like watching the scramble for a £2 coin that some sadist has glued to the pavement. [Inspector Sands has been watching too - and he has pictures].
And this whole dial-up quiz genre works because undereducated members of the British public have absolutely no concept of qualitative probability. If you know the answer to any particular question, the odds are that thousands of other viewers do too. If you ring in five times then yes, your chance of winning will quintuple, but five times 'incredibly unlikely' is still 'incredibly unlikely'. If you fork out 60p on every call you make then every unlucky loss soon mounts up and cancels out any pathetic winnings you may accrue. And as for that Jackpot eight-rung-ladder game, you may think you have a great chance of finding the correct path to the top but the odds are actually the same as flipping eight heads in a row - 255 to 1 against. The only winner here is Channel 4, whose digital progeny this leeching channel is, shamelessly exploiting the phone bills of the poor and debt-ridden. Still, at least these willing victims are enjoying themselves as they sink slowly deeper into poverty. In all probability anyway.
The DG 'spot the difference' quiz: Would you like to win a top prize? You would, wouldn't you? It's so easy. All you have to do is spot the difference between these two photographs. Go on, have a look. What's extra in photograph A? Or what's missing in photograph B? Can you tell? Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. Can you spot the difference? Can you? There really is a difference between these two shots although it may be very hard to spot. Ooh it's so difficult isn't it? Ooh ahh Jim lad. I don't know the answer, because I'm clearly not as intelligent as you are. Come on, take part! You know you want to. Get in touch and tell me the solution. What could the difference be? Why not leave me a message in the comments box. Or give me a call. Or just send me all your money now and be done with it. Stick your life savings in an envelope and post them to me. Now! You might win a great prize. Or you might not. Pieces of eight, pieces of eight. Come on, have you entered yet? (All calls cost £1.50 a minute. In the event of any dispute regarding the competition, the decision of DG Media shall be final and binding and no correspondence or discussion shall be entered into with you or any person acting on your behalf. Sssh, don't say this too loud but online applications are free. DG Media reserves the right to invent a prize, change that prize to something really rubbish or maybe even not award any prize at all. But please enter anyway.)
Red rout: I have the pleasure of living on the A11 - one of London's busy redroutes. It used to be possible to park close to the entrance to my house (in one tiny bay and for no more than 20 minutes and only between the hours of 10am and 4pm), and this proved perfectly adequate for visitors such as the engineer who came to superglue the innards of my washing machine last week. But when I emerged from my front door this morning, telltale specks of red gravel littered along the edge of the pavement indicated that our local parking bay had been erased overnight. In its place stretched an extended bus stop, delimited in bright red tarmac, more than double the length of the bus stop that stood here before. And bloody bendy buses are to blame. Length of a London bendy bus = 18m Length of my local bus stop yesterday morning = 19m (=1.06 bendies) Length of my local bus stop this morning = 45m (=2.5 bendies) Increase in length of bus stop = 26m = 136% Reduction in parking space = 100% The 'Flagship Manager' of the 'Bus Priority Team' sent me and my neighbours a letter in June last year to warn us that bus route 25 was about to receive new style 'bendy' buses. He went on to give notice that "the protected road space at the bus stop needs to be increased to enable the bus to pull up alongside the kerb". I assumed that an extended bus stop was imminent, but no roadworks materialised before the new buses were introduced and so the parking bay remained. We've had bendies along Bow Road for more than a year now, and drivers have proved perfectly capable of pulling up to the kerb at the old bus stop with relative ease. But never mind the reality of the situation - last night's bureaucracy-led resurfacing means that these giant articulated buses are now the only vehicles that can park close to my front door. So, er, no visitors please for the foreseeable future (unless you're willing to arrive in discomfort aboard a big red cattletruck).
What's on this weekend? A.V. Roe Centenary Sunday 12 July, 2pm
A replica triplane celebrates one hundred years since Britain's first ever flight on Walthamstow Marshes.
And so ends diamond geezer's third annual tube week. Admittedly I only managed five days of tubular goodness, whereas people like Annie manage this sort of thing day in day out all year. But I continue to be amazed by how much interactive interest the London Underground inspires, and how much tube-related stuff remains to be written about at a later date. I mean, three years in and I still haven't written a tube week post about disused stations. Maybe next year...
Tube watch (13) Bow Road station update
Sunday, 18 September, 2005 Fifty years ago Britain officially annexed the tiny islet of Rockall, a remote rocky outcrop located 287 miles west of mainland Scotland. Back in 1955 a Royal Navy helicopter lowered two sailors onto the island's only narrow ledge where the Union flag was raised in a shamelessly political attempt to extend British territorial waters. And then they left. An SAS chappie lasted five weeks on Rockall back in 1985, but the only current inhabitants are a few squawking seabirds. When listening to the shipping forecast I've always wondered... (etc etc)
Thursday, 22 September, 2005 The London Olympics open in precisely 2500 days time. Not long when there's a stadium or seven to build and an industrial wasteland to eradicate. So far almost nothing tangible has changed on the Stratford Olympic site, but what has changed is that even the tiniest non-event around here is now news. Potential killer turtle spotted; mini nuclear reactor uncovered; giant hogweed on the loose - everything hits the headlines now, however minor. But there's still approximately 500 days to go until the media can report the rather more newsworthy headline 'Olympic demolition starts'. Come visit while you still can... (etc etc)
Crossness Pumping Station: There are always queues on Open House weekend, but I wasn't expecting to find them at an old sewage works on the Thames marshes in deepest Bexley. The old dear driving the ageing minibus from Abbey Wood station had never seen the like either. We'd endured a rattly journey past Thamesmead and down a godforsaken approach road, before being dropped off outside an unexpectedly ornate brick building in the middle of almost nowhere. The smell of effluent filled the air, which made the snaking queue of locals and curious centre-of-towners all the more surprising. The stench was coming from the modern sewage works just along the river but we were here to see its Victorian predecessor - the pioneering and palatial Crossness Pumping Station.
The scale of the operation is phenomenal, with 47 ton iron beams rising and falling with the rotation of enormous flywheels spinning beneath. Only one engine has so far been restored, by a group of willing volunteers who clearly love nothing more than the allure of steam and sooty hands. They've done a particularly good job on the decorative ironwork around the central 'Octagon', although even the rustiest corners of the building still retain a genuine industrial charm.
Trinity Buoy Wharf: It may sound ludicrous but London does indeed have its own lighthouse, situated on the thin strip of land where the river Lea enters the Thames, just to the north of the Millennium Dome. The lighthouse was never used to warn of underwater hazards but was instead kitted out by Trinity House back in Victorian times as a testing ground for their latest lighthouse technology. The site today is surprisingly inaccessible given its proximity to Docklands, with road access hidden away down a shabby industrial backstreet in the southeast corner of Tower Hamlets. There are great views of the Dome and the Thames from the top of the lighthouse, the interior artily filled by the computer generated ringing of Tibetan 'singing bowls' performing a 1000-year sound symphony (honest).
The rest of the wharf site is a strange mix of old and new, and oddly enchanting. An old red lightship is tied up a few yards from a genuine aluminium American diner. Brightly coloured metal containers have been piled up to create low cost office and studio space in a pioneering (keyword: sustainable) project called Container City, which us weekend visitors got to peer inside. Few central London office blocks can beat its low cost riverside panorama. And out at the end of Jubilee Pier I was surprised to be allowed access to the Vic 56 - an 85 foot long WW2 steamboat. There was no gangplank so I had to clamber aboard over the side of both the pier and the boat - rather inexpertly and inelegantly I thought. But it was a treat to wander the decks of this partly restored ship, clambering over ropes and climbing to the wheelhouse, and to meet and talk to the present owners. Seaworthy at least as far as Harwich, apparently, and no shortage of volunteers wanting to hide themselves away in the grimy engine room and stoke the steam engines.
BBC Broadcasting House: The original BBC Broadcasting House was built in 1932, an Art Deco masterpiece at the top of Regent Street [explore the interior here]. Wartime news broadcasts, Listen with Mother and Desert Island Discs - they all came from here, as have millions more hours of BBC radio broadcasts. Now the building is undergoing refurbishment as part of a multi-million pound construction project (don't worry, none of it is coming out of the licence fee), due for final completion in 2010. To the east of old Broadcasting House a new building is being erected on the ruins of Egton House, and between the two there'll be a new public piazza where it's hoped concerts will be staged. On the roof of the east wing a glass cone sculpture [photo] has just been erected as a memorial to journalists and crew killed while on assignment. A laser beam installed inside will fire a beam of light high into the London sky at key moments of national importance (such as the death of a monarch or the start of the Ten O'Clock News). It's like the Batsignal made real, and it's due to be switched on for the first time next year.
Alexandra Palace: The BBC's other key acquisition in the 1930s was a failed amusement centre located high atop Muswell Hill in North London. Alexandra Palace had first opened to the public in 1873, and then promptly burnt to the ground 16 days later. The replacement building wasn't much more successful, long term, and so was vacant when the BBC came looking for a base for their inaugural high-definition television service. A competition was held between John Logie Baird and Marconi-EMI to see who had the better broadcasting technology, so two studios were built at either end of the building to give them both an equal chance. The world's first public television broadcast was made from the Baird studios on 2nd November 1936. Programmes were shown for just two hours a day (except on Sundays) and could only be received by the very few with appropriate receiving equipment living within 25 miles or so of the site. Eventually the 405-line EMI system won out, until the service was interrupted for six years by World War Two during which time the TV mast was used to jam German navigation signals instead. BBC TV production moved to Lime Grove in the Fifties but television news continued here until the Seventies at which point those bearded Open University types moved in. Then in 1980 Alexandra Palace was hit by another catastrophic fire, the BBC cancelled its lease and the studios fell into disrepair.
• Wellcome Trust, Gibbs Building: This year-old office space on the Euston Road won the RIBA 2005 Prize for its architecture, and from the inside you can see why. There's a huge central atrium, there are several floors of glass-walled open workspaces and, most impressively, there's a stunning seven-storey sculpture (called Bleigiessen) made from a hundred thousand glass beads threaded on thin wires in a sort of dangly globby shape that glows and shimmers. See photo left. Lovely.
The Friday puzzle (easy): Place a coin in each box (or leave it empty) so that the totals across and down are correct.
Stage 2 (75 metres): When you're relaxed and ready it's onward through the alleyway to Ludgate Hill. This is one of the most historic roads in London, but that's not important when there's shopping to be done! Thankfully the street also boasts a bijou-sized Starbucks where you can sit down and plan your next pampering purchases. Accompany your deliberations with a refreshing Frappuccino Light and a slice of blueberry swirl cheesecake for good measure. Perfect.
Designer retail outlets abound, but head instead for the welcoming comfy sofas of the Starbucks at the bottom of Fleet Street. A handcrafted Caramel Macchiato makes for heaven in a mug, with a Prawn Caesar Wrap to quell those lunchtime hunger pangs. Perfect.
Here's a six-month-old photograph of Mam's Fish Bar, Bow Road's premier takeaway establishment, with Mam herself staring out through the glass from behind her deep fat fryer. She ruled over an unfeasibly salmon-hued takeaway, in name a fish shop but in practice a kebab dispensary. If you wanted slightly charred flesh or a tray of grease-dripped chips, Mam was your woman. Her warm and genuine smile beamed out from beneath a shock of red wiry hair, swept back and piled high on top of her head. You could sit and eat her fatty produce while sat at one of the cheap and nasty tables bolted to the floor along the far wall, perhaps sprinkling each trayful with thin weak condiment dripped from non-brandname bottles. I never went in myself, not since her battered cod disagreed catastrophically with my digestive system, but the local teenagers and the minimum waged worshipped daily at her temple.
And then two months ago, without warning, Mam's Fish Bar closed down. It wasn't long before the old shop was hidden behind shiny new black shutters, and workmen could sometimes be seen inside installing gleaming new cooking equipment beneath big metal extractor fans. But there was no food on sale, until yesterday. Where once was Mam's shabby sign, now shines a startling illuminated slogan declaring The Thrill of the Grill. The fish and kebab silhouettes have been replaced by four gleaming red chilis, and two big red posters scream 'Now Open' to slightly more upmarket passers by. Everything's seems just too clean, and much less amateur. You just know that the previous owner would have written 'nOW OpEN' in thin red marker pen instead, probably on a page ripped out from a faded notepad, and spelt at least one of the words wrong. The new menu also looks much more professional and has substantially 'upgraded' in content - with cod and chips replaced by jumbo king prawns and chickpeas, for example, and steak and kidney pie vanishing altogether. But the biggest change of all is behind the counter. The new staff all look as if they're fresh out of school, standing there in a row beneath corporate red baseball caps, eagerly doling out grilled meat to the weak-willed consumers of Bow. But of Mam herself there is no sign. She's sold out to a Kebabish franchise, presumably in lieu of early retirement, and her presence has completely vanished off the face of E3. I shall miss her siren smile staring out from behind the glass, attempting to lure me in from the pavement for a 90p bag of chips. But I won't miss her fish.
Silver discs (September 1980)
The Jam - Start: The second chart-topper for the Woking threesome, smashing in at number three in an era when records just didn't do that. The mid-sixties Mod influence had never been quite so obvious, and the jolting bassline owed more than a passing nod to the Beatles' Taxman, but it didn't matter because this was a mighty fine pop snapshot.
3 of diamonds
It's time to find out who's won a fantastic prize in my 'spot the difference' quiz. Did you enter? You can't win unless you enter, can you? Did you spot the difference between these two photographs? Did you guess correctly? I mean, come on, the difference is pretty bloody obvious isn't it? It's almost as if this wasn't a quiz at all, isn't it? Not a game of skill in any way. Just a game of chance. A lottery where you think you have a good chance of winning but actually everyone's thinking the same thing so your chance of winning is actually rather tiny. And there can only be two winners. One of those is me, because you're all mugs. If you'd all sent in £1.50 like I asked then I'd be more than £40 richer by now. Just for posting a stupid photo of a cat in a hat. That's how it works on the television anyway. But there has to be another winner, one of you, otherwise those trading standards people will be down on me like a ton of bricks. So I've picked a winner*, at random. Honestly, purely at random. Check your email inbox. Could it be you*?
Coronation Edition Radio Times
The Race Into Space teacards album
Two black fluffy dice
Queen's Golden Jubilee firework
Three Creme Eggs
Red rout: I have the pleasure of living on the A11 - one of London's busy red routes. It used to be possible to park close to the entrance to my house (in one tiny bay and for no more than 20 minutes and only between the hours of 10am and 4pm), and this proved perfectly adequate for visitors such as the engineer who came to superglue the innards of my washing machine last week. But when I emerged from my front door this morning, telltale specks of red gravel littered along the edge of the pavement indicated that our local parking bay had been erased overnight. In its place stretched an extended bus stop, delimited in bright red tarmac, more than double the length of the bus stop that stood here before. And bloody bendy buses are to blame.
