diamond geezer

 Saturday, June 30, 2007

Northumberland in pictures

Sign on the B1340 at Swinhoe, between Alnwick and Beadnell
[ring the bell, school's back in]

posted 08:00 :

10 London locations for that last cigarette
1) Smokehouse Yard, Smithfield EC1
2) Newington Butts, Elephant & Castle SE1
3) Tobacco Dock, Wapping E1
4) Puffin Close, Beckenham BR3
5) Stubbers Lane, Upminster RM14
6) Weedington Road, Gospel Oak NW5
7) Ashburton Park, Croydon CR0
8) Lighter Close, Rotherhithe SE16
9) Fagus Avenue, Rainham RM13
10) Forest Hill, Lewisham SE23

posted 06:00 :

 Friday, June 29, 2007

Welcome to diamond geezer, East London's hottest property blog. As regular readers will know, this is the place to come for everything that's fresh, new and exciting in the world of bricks and mortar. So today I'm delighted to be able to welcome visitors from The Times newspaper's Property section. Their esteemed housing gurus have scanned cyberspace for the best property blogs on the web, and diamond geezer has been duly selected as one of their "Top 25 Property Blogs". We're a happy family here at number 19, so please step inside. I do hope you'll feel right at home.

posted 00:30 :

The view from London E3
If it's a prime London location you're after, you can't do better than Bow. This bijou East End jewel stands astride the old Roman Road to Colchester, and the area still drips with historic charm to this day. Some of the rugged brownbrick apartment blocks overlooking Bow's medieval church date back almost to the 1950s. Thousands of local residents wake each morning in their council-owned maisonettes, fling open their windows and breathe in the exhaust fumes from the Blackwall Tunnel Approach Road. These are perfect family residences, often sleeping four to a room, with the smell of spice wafting gently across washing lines and threadbare lawns. To the west the three towers of the Crossways Estate soar majestically into the concrete sky. Take the unpredictable yellow-stained lift to the top floor and soak up the glorious view across East London's almost-gleaming rooftops. Local services are second to none, with a launderette on your doorstep and an off licence conveniently situated for that mid-morning can of bench-slurped low-cost lager. For the perfect dinner party, the friendly chefs at the Bow Fish Bar will pack you off home with gift-wrapped cod and vintage Panda Pops. Who needs cottage living when you can have urban style? There's nothing artificial about Bow. I can't imagine why it doesn't feature in the property supplements more often.

posted 00:20 :

Property Exchange Poplar E14: Two bed double flat on third floor with entryphone. Fitted kitchen with small balcony, bathroom with shower and toilet. 3 massive storage points. Near all amenities. 2 mins walk to Limehouse DLR. Would like 3-bed house or flat in any area within Tower Hamlets.

Tower Hamlets Homeseekers Brodick House, Saxon Road, E3 flat, 2 bed 4 person, 4th floor, one lift, separate bathroom and w/c, electric storage heater, no garden, wet-floor shower, no bath. £102.20 weekly Landlord: Tower Hamlets Council.

Olympic chic
If property investment is your forte, now is the time to cast an eye over London's Olympic Quarter. New nine-storey buy-to-let opportunities are springing up all along 2012's Marathon Boulevard, and the wise entrepreneur is already making plans to move in. These elevated apartments make an ideal second home, perfect for stumbling back to bed late after all the excitement of the javelin finals in five years time. The finest prime estate potential can be found on the northern outskirts of up-and-coming E15, nestling beside the leafy pastures of Hackney Marsh. It's here that the Athletes Village will be established, rammed full with sports-friendly carbon-neutral dwelling spaces. But the athletes won't be around for long. After the Olympics these stylish designer boxes can be snapped up for peanuts - ideal for those in need of a little luxurious loft living. There'll even be a state-of-the-art John Lewis nextdoor, and on-the-spot connections to Paris, the Riviera and beyond. Whose property portfolio could possibly resist?

So it's almost inexplicable that the current residents of this blessed plot are moving out. Members of the Clays Lane collective are abandoning their low-cost high-rise homes and dispersing across the capital. The Romanies of the Clays Lane Travellers site, and their colleagues at nearby Waterden Crescent, are packing their caravans and travelling on. And the allotment holders of Manor Gardens are relinquishing their tumbledown sheds and vegetable plots to be ploughed up by the Olympic bulldozers. How kind and thoughtful of these honest East End folk to sacrifice their existing property holdings so that the rest of us can pounce in 2012 and snap up a buy-to-let bargain. Because the Lower Lea Valley is heading relentlessly upmarket. The time for exploitation draws near. You might want to contact your estate manager now to ensure that you have all the relevant funds ready. Who'd want to miss out on the Olympic goldrush?

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theRatandMouse: a genuine property blog (unlike this one) which actually deserves its place on The Times' list

posted 00:10 :

 Thursday, June 28, 2007

Last requests

London has a new endangered species. They're tall and red, with a grey stripe and a white underbelly. They tend to perch by the roadside or stand on street corners. They're almost always seen in pairs. They're request stops. And they've been earmarked for extinction.

TfL have been reviewing the current system of request and compulsory stops in London. We propose to remove the distinction between compulsory and request stops. This will result in a single approach to the use of all bus stops. Both passengers and drivers will be affected.

Bus stops - both compulsory and request - have been used in London for about 70 years, and there are now more than 18000 of them. At compulsory stops (red roundel on white) buses always stop, even if no passenger requests it. At request stops (white roundel on red), buses only stop if someone on the pavement gesticulates or if someone on board the bus dings the bell. That's what's supposed to happen anyway. But not for much longer.

TfL want to simplify the current system because it's a bit confusing for customers (especially tourists and those with an IQ below 70). Starting this autumn all London bus stops will be compulsory bus stops, with just one set of rules. Passengers won't have to think "Ooh, is the next stop a request stop? Do I need to ring the bell?" because there wont be any request stops any more. And because they will have to ring the bell.

The changes are as follows:
• When a passenger is waiting at a stop, buses must stop at that stop. Currently, this is the current practice for compulsory stops, unless the bus is full.
• When a passenger is on the bus and wants to get off at the next stop, they must ring the bell to indicate they want the bus to stop. In effect, this is already the current practice for most passengers.

Ringing the bell to get off the bus shouldn't be too much of a hardship because, according to a TfL survey, 80% of people do it already. And everybody does it on nightbuses. But passengers may take rather longer to get used to the new waiting arrangements. Look, here comes a bus. Dont worry, you don't have to wave at it, because it's going to stop anyway. It won't drive past, honest it won't. Because drivers are going to be following new instructions.

Bus drivers will be instructed that they must stop if:
- There are people waiting
- There is a possibility that people are waiting
- Their view of the bus stop is impaired
- Someone has rung the bell

Drivers can only drive past a bus stop if:
- No one has rung the bell
- They believe beyond reasonable doubt that no one is waiting at the bus stop
- There are passengers waiting at the bus stop, but the bus is full

Yes, that's bound to work isn't it? Drivers will love stopping all the time, even when it's obvious that nobody wants to get on, just in case somebody does. And this change will mean that bus services in London can only get slower. Previously buses only wasted their time by pulling in at every compulsory stop. Now they're going to waste their time by pulling in at every stop. If ten different routes use one particular bus stop, all ten routes will have to stop even if a passenger is waiting for only one of them. If a couple of teenagers are having a chat on the pavement within a few feet of a bus stop, all the buses are going to have to stop. The drivers will flap their doors open, sit and wait for a few seconds while the kids ignore them, and then close the doors and wait to pull back out into the traffic again. Simpler rules to understand, yes. But faster bus services? Afraid not.

Proposed date for changes to the bus stop flag: TfL is establishing the costs and viability of covering all request stop heads with a temporary white bus stop overlay - as a short-term measure this will eliminate customer confusion. Longer term, a programme of replacement would take place as equipment became life-expired or warranted exchange for some other reason.

So, the days of the request stop appear to be numbered. If you have any thoughts on these proposals, TfL's Head of Stakeholder Engagement for Surface Transport would like to hear from you. There's a consultation period until 20th July, including a "response framework" questionnaire for interested parties to fill in. Unless responses are numerous and negative, expect all of London's red bus stops to turn white in the Autumn. And be prepared to spend even longer travelling on buses as drivers are forced to pull in to pick up people who didn't wave because they didn't want to get on board. Ding ding.

posted 07:00 :

 Wednesday, June 27, 2007

A brief biography of Gordon Brown MP, PM

1951: Born in Glasgow, the eldest son of Dr John and Bunty.
1954: Having experienced extreme poverty for three years, moves to Fife where life is slightly less dour.
1958: Spends every Sunday going to church, taxing his younger brothers and pulling the legs off spiders.
1961: Joins Kirkcaldy Academy where he specialises in hard sums, social justice and heavy frowning.
1965: Passes his O Levels two years early, like the big girly swot he is.
1967: Attempts to keep healthy by playing rugby, but carelessly dislodges his retina instead.
1972: Graduates from Edinburgh University, where he gains a taste for power by being elected Rector.
1976: Evolves into a long haired dope-smoking lecturer-type (but without the dope-smoking, honest).
1980: Sells his soul to the media by becoming a Scottish TV journalist, attracting several hundred viewers.
1983: Elected as the new MP for Dunfermline South. Dr John and Bunty are very proud.
1985: Starts crawling his way up the Labour Party by becoming Shadow Tradebloke and Shadow Economicman.
1994: Agrees power sharing deal at the Granita restaurant in Islington. Gordon gets 50%, and Tony gets 95%.
1997: Election win. Tony gives Gordon the economy to play with, and Gordon gives it away to some bankers.
1998: Starts fiddling with the tax system, and taxing with the fiddling system.
2000: Growls defensively at the Euro, which cowers in a corner and scuttles off.
2001: Election win. Takes from the rich (but not enough) and gives to the poor (but not enough).
2002: Gives Tony a hard stare for not quitting yet, and storms off to bash a pension fund in anger.
2003: Becomes a father, and suddenly transforms into a soft, caring family man (honest, it's not all spin).
2005: Election win. Stares even harder at Tony, who is now assuming God-like proportions on the world stage.
2006: Starts planning his first 100 days in power, and picking new curtains for number 10.
2007: Ruthlessly sweeps aside all competition for Labour leader and is crowned King of the Country in an unopposed bloodless coup. Spends his first 24 hours as PM announcing constitutional reform, affordable housing, retreat from Iraq, an end to world poverty, a new moral order and free lollipops for all. Dr John and Bunty would have been very proud.
2008: Alas the replacement Chancellor isn't terribly good, and blows Gordon's economic stability in an orgy of financial incompetence.
2009: Election loss. Oops, that was a bit careless. Gordon retires and becomes a monk.
2015: Refuses invite to appear on 'The Tony Blair Hour', now the highest rated chatshow on American television.

posted 14:00 :

 Tuesday, June 26, 2007

How many UK Prime Ministers have you lived through? It may be fewer than you think. Me, I've only lived through six, all of whom I can actually remember. Recent residents of 10 Downing Street have had a remarkable longevity, with both Margaret and Tony managing more than a decade at the top. One wonders whether the next incumbent will perhaps let the side down.

Age	Birthday between...	Number of Prime Ministers
0-10	2/5/1997 → today	1	Blair
10-16	28/11/1990 → 1/5/1997	2	Major, Blair
16-28	4/5/1979 → 27/11/1990	3	Thatcher, Major, Blair
28-31	5/4/1976 → 3/5/1979	4	Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
31-33	4/3/1974 → 4/4/1976	5	Wilson, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
33-42	16/10/1964 → 3/3/1974	6	Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
42-43	19/10/1963 → 15/10/1964	7	Douglas-Home, Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
43-50	10/1/1957 → 18/10/1963	8	Macmillan, Douglas-Home, Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
50-52	7/4/1955 → 9/1/1957	9	Eden, Macmillan, Douglas-Home, Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
52-55	26/10/1951 → 6/4/1955	10	Churchill, Eden, Macmillan, Douglas-Home, Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
55-67	10/5/1940 → 25/10/1951	11	Churchill, Attlee, Eden, Macmillan, Douglas-Home, Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
67-70	28/5/1937 → 9/5/1940	12	Chamberlain, Churchill, Attlee, Eden, Macmillan, Douglas-Home, Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
70-72	7/6/1935 → 27/5/1937	13	Baldwin, Chamberlain, Churchill, Attlee, Eden, Macmillan, Douglas-Home, Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
72-84	23/5/1923 → 6/6/1935	14	MacDonald, Baldwin, Chamberlain, Churchill, Attlee, Eden, Macmillan, Douglas-Home, Wilson, Heath, Callaghan, Thatcher, Major, Blair
84+	before 23/5/1923	15+

Please note: this table may not be terribly accurate tomorrow. Enjoy now while stocks last.

posted 07:00 :

3/4: I may not have posted anything last week but still you came, and on Friday diamond geezer received its three-quarters-of-a-millionth visitor. Woo. This may be a wholly meaningless milestone but hey, any excuse for an update of my regular 'league table' of top linking blogs. As usual it's rank-ordered according to the volume of visitors clicking here from there. And this time I've also included the 'highest climbers' since the half million last August. It's all kicking off.

1) girl with a one track mind   2) arseblog   3) casino avenue   4) random acts of reality (↑2)     5) scaryduck   6) blue witch   7) linkmachinego (↑2)   8) my boyfriend is a twat   9) route 79 (↑2) 10) london underground

11) onionbagblog (↑1) 12) funjunkie 13) planarchy (↑1) 14) london calling 15) big n juicy 16) d4d (↑1) 17) geofftech (↑11) 18) troubled diva 19) londonist (↑11) 20) london daily photo (↑40)

Thanks for linking, because every click-through is appreciated. And do all feel free to click on a few of the above blogs and return the favour. I'll see you back here for an update sometime next year, maybe, for the magic million.

posted 01:00 :

 Monday, June 25, 2007

The Millennium Dome reborn
(closed 31st December 2000, reopened 24th June 2007)

It's been a very long time coming, but North Greenwich's giant white elephant finally reopened to the public yesterday. There had been a couple of trial events last week, one for Greenwich residents on Wednesday and a knees-up for sponsors and their employees on Saturday. But Sunday was the first day that anyone could go inside and experience the new "hub of entertainment" for themselves. So I did. And I took photos. And it was great to finally get back inside.

Day O₁
Rather brilliantly, the owners of the revamped Dome synchronised their reopening with the last day of the Greenwich and Docklands International Festival. The public spaces in and around the Dome were filled with stilt walkers, musicians and eccentric street art, and there was much to see and enjoy. Crowds stood spellbound in the main entrance watching acrobatic "conedancers" . Milling spectators blocked the foot of the cinema escalators while a deaf drag act camped it up (in sign language) to a diva-esque musical medley . Elsewhere there were bungee tumblers to admire, giant mechanical insects to experience and intimate one-on-one performances by unembarassable face-painted actors. The annual GDIF is always spectacular, and this was no exception.

The O₇
But what's left beneath the Teflon tent once the street theatre departs? Not as much of interest as I was hoping. The main public space is Entertainment Avenue, a fake street stretching two-thirds of the way round the perimeter of the Dome. Only half of it is open at the moment , lined by a selection of pizzerias, steakhouses and Mexican grills. So, it's great if you fancy lunch, but not terribly exciting otherwise. The passage isn't especially broad, particularly with al fresco dining tables spilling out of the surrounding restaurants, which has caused considerable congestion for early visitors. In the main entrance hall there's a bubbly blue chandelier and also a single mobile phone shop (you can guess who) which looks like a cross between the Apple Store and the Rainforest Cafe. In London Piazza (is that really the best name you could come up with guys?) there's a knobbly translucent igloo called the Chill where you can "recharge your personal batteries" with the aid of headphones and a piped "audio landscape" (no thanks). And in Cinema Plaza (good grief, that's even worse) you can act out your own music video and have it uploaded to your mobile phone. It didn't take me long to work out that I'm so not target audience for this place.

The RadiO₂
At the heart of the complex is the main arena, surrounded by a grey concrete walkway blessed with numerous lavatories, bars and ketchup dispensers . From what I could see through the doors on Level 4 the main arena looks like any other modern cutting-edge arena with a capacity of 20000 - lots of identikit blue stacked seats and corporate boxes. From others' photos there appears to be a giant O-shaped walkway in front of the main stage with a large "2" lower right so that, presumably, the name of the main sponsor imprints itself on your retina during every performance. I truly hope that this was only a temporary debut feature. Bon Jovi were the first paid-for act yesterday, and a succession of stadium-sized ultra-safe Radio-2-friendly acts are lined up to follow them. Which is great, because music of this calibre usually inspires me to stay at home instead, which should save me a lot of money in the future.

The O_noyoudon't
Black shirted security guards were everywhere yesterday . It was their unenviable job to keep tens of thousands of curious non-fee-paying visitors at bay, and to stop us from going where we shouldn't. Not up these stairs, not past this rope, and most definitely not inside that arena. One told me off for walking through a restaurant seating area when I was trying to find the way into the cinema (signage is pretty poor, so it wasn't as obvious as you might think). The bloke who frisked me (front and back) before I could pass into the outer arena walkway was rather friendlier, and declined to confiscate my phone when I told him it wasn't the officially preferred network. But most scary of all was the shaven-headed bloke in a fluorescent jacket labelled "Trademark and Copyright Team" . He was scanning visitors as they arrived, no doubt on the alert for any outbreak of unofficial ambush marketing. Because, you know, the main Dome sponsors have paid a lot of money to splash their name everywhere, and our appreciation of their brand monopoly needs to be enforced.

The O_zero
The reborn Dome is clearly going to be a great success, if only because of the arena at its heart. Anywhere that can sell Barbra Streisand tickets at £500 a time is most definitely onto a winner. The Indigo nightclub should draw in the punters after dark, and people will always want to eat overpriced pizzas. But that's as far as it goes for now. I'm not convinced that North Greenwich needs another multi-screen cinema (there are 11 screens here to add to 18 more just half a mile down the road). A third of the available internal space is wasted on a walled-off concrete void where the Super Casino was going to be, but isn't . Indeed, despite the vastness of the site there's not really anything here (yet) to make this a must-visit spur-of-the-moment destination. Maybe they should bring back the acrobats, drag queens and stilt walkers because, alas, I'm not sure why I'd want to go back inside otherwise.

posted 07:00 :

 Sunday, June 24, 2007

www.flickr.com: Northumberland gallery
30 holiday snaps from the top half of England's toppermost county

posted 09:00 :

 Saturday, June 23, 2007

I'm back home again, after an improbably rain-free week in Northumberland. If you want to read about some of the places I've visited, look below (I'll be filling in the six-day gap bit by bit over the weekend). If you don't care about where I've been, come back on Monday (you miserable Londonophiles).

posted 14:00 :

 Friday, June 22, 2007

  Postcard from Northumberland
  Craster and Dunstanburgh

The north Northumberland coast forms one of England's official Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty. There are no major towns or industrial estates along this coastline, just dunes and rocks and beaches and several tiny fishing villages. One of these is Craster (population 370), whose shell-shaped stone harbour is protected from the fiercest North Sea storms by a natural rocky breakwater. The local economy was based on the humble herring, unladen at the quayside and cured in smokehouses above the harbour. They still smoke Craster kippers here today, but the herring is imported (and the seafood restaurant nextdoor is unexpectedly unwelcoming). Almost all of the cottages along the harbour are now holiday homes, which is all very well at this time of year but sadly bleak and soulless during the windswept winter. It seems that we tourists are busy destroying the very communities we've come to see.

A mile and a half north of Craster lie the ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle. You can't drive there, so the coastal footpath is awash with ambling tourists. A National Trust volunteer lies in wait at the start of the walk, eager to pounce on passers-by and sign them up for long-term heritage membership (direct debit preferred). It may be several minutes along the path, especially in misty weather, before the long wall of the castle appears spread across the headland in front of you. Don't get over-excited - this one long wall is all you're going to get. The rest of John of Gaunt's fortress was destroyed during two sieges in the Wars of the Roses, so the only buildings standing within the invisible ramparts are the ticket office and a couple of portaloos. A single spiral staircase ascends the crumbling gatehouse tower , through whose arrow-slit windows dart hungry swifts in search of food. From the top storey you can look back along the coast to Craster, or maybe out across the pristine sandy curve of Embleton Bay (if the mist isn't too thick). Oh yes, this is truly Natural Beauty. Outstanding.

Also worth a visit...
Howick Hall: Ancestral home of Earl Grey (yes, him, the Prime Minister who introduced bergamot-blend tea to Britain in the 1830s). The gardens are exquisite , the new arboretum is extensive, and the tearoom serves proper Earl Grey. Unexpectedly adorable.

posted 18:00 :

 Thursday, June 21, 2007

  Postcard from Northumberland
  Alnwick

Alnwick (pronounced 'Annik') is a market town on the Great North Road which owes its importance to a large Norman castle. It's the second largest inhabited castle in Britain, after Windsor, and you'll have seen it many times on the small and big screen. The first Edmund Blackadder lived here, as did Kevin Costner's arch-enemy the Sheriff of Nottingham. More recently it's doubled up as Hogwarts in the Harry Potter films - many's the Quidditch lesson that's taken place on the pristine lawn between the main keep and the Barbican tower . Alnwick Castle is home to the Duke of Northumberland, one of the more important British noblemen, who graciously allows the public to troop around his state apartments to see how the other half 0.001% live. Every room on the tour is over-ornate, über-showy, and littered with old portraits and modern family photographs. The ubiquitous photos feel like a Hello centrespread ("In medieval magnificence we meet Ralph, Lady Isobel and their utterly gorgeous offspring") and no opportunity is missed to point out that the family are jolly good friends with the Queen and several of her ancestors. The view from the battlements is of a totally unspoilt verdant valley and, after the tourists go home in the evening, this must be a magical place to live. Don't be jealous now.

A new attraction just down the road is the Alnwick Garden, the horticultural brainchild of the Duchess of Northumberland. She's created a new green public space for locals and tourists alike, complete with water features, sculptures and acres of plants. The garden has only been open since 2002 and isn't quite finished yet, but there's still plenty to see. Centrepiece is the Grand Cascade which tumbles valleyward with choreographed fountains spurting half-hourly into the sky . At the top of the slope is a well-tended Ornamental Garden, and lower down a series of smaller themed areas. Particularly popular are the sweet-smelling pergolas of the Rose Garden and the metal water sculptures in the Serpent Garden . A deadly Poison Garden has been established behind locked gates, inside which tour guides delight in pointing out all the killer plants that lurk unnoticed in your own back garden. Toddlers play happily on the mini-tractors at the foot of the main fountain, scooping water from the cascade and dumping it unceremoniously on their parents' feet. Older children, meanwhile, are more likely to enjoy swaying across the rope bridges of the big wooden Treehouse. It's a glorious half-day out, especially in midsummer sunshine, but you're probably better off coming back when the place is finished.

Also worth a visit...
Barter Books: a huge second-hand bookshop housed inside Alnwick's disused railway station

posted 18:00 :

 Wednesday, June 20, 2007

  Postcard from Northumberland
  Holy Island

If you want to visit the cradle of English Christianity, you need to pick your time carefully. A three mile causeway is the only road link between Holy Island and the Northumberland mainland, and for ten hours each day it lies underwater. Cross at the wrong time and you'll have to abandon your vehicle and climb a ladder into a wooden refuge above the incoming waves. There are no traffic lights, no warning signals, just a set of tide tables in a glass case at either end of the causeway. If you and your submerged car end up splashed across the local press, it'll be your own fault.

Alternatively, if you're even more careful, you can walk across the bay by following a line of tall wooden posts. A monk called Aidan came this way in 635 AD, sent to the island on a mission to convert the Anglo-Saxons of Northumbria to Christianity. Modern Britain bears the stamp of his religious legacy to this day. His monastery's most famous treasure are the ornate Lindisfarne Gospels, rescued from the island when the Vikings invaded and now to be seen... ah, damn, 350 miles away in the British Museum. Benedictine monks returned to Holy Island in 1082, founding a Priory whose imposing ruins still stand today , just down the road from the post office, two pubs and several gift shops. Don't come here today expecting peace and spiritual solitude.

The southwest corner of Holy Island has evolved into a tourist-oriented village. Coach parties stream across the causeway between high tides. Visitors wander the narrow lanes clutching ice creams and tea towels. The street down to the parish church is lined with holiday cottages. A hoppa shuttle ferries elderly visitors a few hundred yards from car park to interactive Heritage Centre. The boathouses by the harbour are swarming with artists and amateur photographers . The beach is infested with schoolkids munching crisps and sandwiches. And yet, against all the odds, a tangible sense of spiritual enlightenment remains.

The southeast corner of the island is very different. Here, atop a lone rocky crag surrounded by sheep, sits the lonely outpost of Lindisfarne Castle . There's nothing overly special about the outer structure, an old Tudor fort, but the inside is quite spectacular. 100 years ago this crumbling pile was transformed into an intimate holiday home for the founder of Country Life magazine by renowned architect Edwin Lutyens. He converted the internal space into a series of arched rooms and twisty passageways, with steps and low ceilings which no doubt today would be banned under Health and Safety legislation. From the roof you can look out in splendid isolation across the village, harbour and bay . From the bedrooms the view is a little bleaker, but offset by the Gertrude Jekyll garden - a stone-walled quadrilateral of hardy plants. You'd probably love a stately pile like this, but the original owner sold up after just ten summers and the "Castle" is now under the ownership of the National Trust. Don't stay too long yourself either, you don't want to have to swim home.

• Holy Island
• Lindisfarne Priory
• Lindisfarne Castle

posted 18:00 :

 Tuesday, June 19, 2007

  Postcard from Northumberland
  Cragside

Back in industrial Victorian Britain, Sir William Armstrong was an all-round inventive genius. He was an expert scientist with an interest in electricity and hydraulics. He was a successful engineer who designed ships and weapons of mass destruction. And in 1880 his Cheviot moorland house, Cragside, became the first anywhere in the world to be lit by electricity .

Sir William's thirst for invention led him to design several labour-saving devices which kept his household ticking over more efficiently. In his kitchen he installed an automatic rotating spit and an elementary dishwasher – not bad for the 19th century. To help his staff to move around the house quicker he installed a fully functional hydraulic passenger lift. And to power all of these appliances, in an age well before the National Grid, he created a series of artificial lakes and used them to generate a steady supply of hydroelectricity. Which is how, in 1880, he became the first person to adopt Joseph Swan's brand new electric filament bulb to light his house. Thomas Edison may have been first to the patent office, but William Armstrong was first to flick the domestic switch.

The original four table lamps – resembling glowing glass globes perched on top of elegant china vases - still light the drawing room today. Most visitors fail to notice their significance, preferring instead to ooh and aah at all the fixtures and furnishings preserved throughout this vast 100-room house. Cragside's setting is spectacular, perched halfway up a hillside overlooking a thick coniferous valley. At this time of year Sir William's 400 acre estate is resplendent with pink and purple rhododendrons (not all of which have yet wilted, not quite). The National Trust faithful come in their hundreds to enjoy the heady combination of horticultural expertise and engineering brilliance. And a very nice teashop, of course.

posted 18:00 :

 Monday, June 18, 2007

  Postcard from Northumberland
  The Farne Islands

A couple of miles off the north Northumberland coast, close to Bamburgh Castle, lie a chain of 28 rocky islands with a population in the hundreds of thousands. Seabirds, that is, who flock to the Farne Islands in early summer to breed and to nest. And for less than £20 you can sail out to see them, and walk amongst them, and even get aerially bombarded by them. What a treat.

Pick your day carefully (becalmed and blue sky-ed is perfect) and head for the small coastal resort of Seahouses. Down by the harbourside are the ticket offices of five different boat companies, each fighting for a share of the seasonal tourist trade. Some appear to be doing rather better than others (although the more popular your tour operator, the more squashed you'll be in the boat that takes you out around the islands).

On the chugging journey across to the islands you start to notice cute little birds bobbing in the waves, and scudding low over the North Sea like tiny guided missiles, and soaring with wings outstretched over the boat, and... good grief, there are puffins everywhere! These adorable little birds are the most populous on the islands, but they share the rocks with guillemots, kittiwakes, cormorants and gulls. In May and June the cliffs of the larger islands are covered with squawking breeding pairs (and a nasty smelly white substance whose origin you can all too readily imagine). The boat sails right up close to several of the larger colonies where parents are nesting, chicks are hatching and neighbours are squabbling. It's like starring in your very own episode of Springwatch.

Out on the furthest islands the boat pauses beside a colony of grey seals. The seals stare back at the human intruders with a mixture of disinterest and disdain, before flopping inelegantly into the water or closing their eyes for a good long bask. Just round the corner is the Longstone Lighthouse, from which Grace Darling and her father set out in a tiny rowing boat in 1838 to rescue nine survivors from the wreck of the Forfarshire. Had Blue Peter been broadcast in those days, 22-year old Grace would undoubtedly have won a gold badge for her endeavours. As it was, sadly, she dies from tuberculosis just four years later. It's a tough life living in a windswept wavestruck tower in the unforgiving waters of the North Sea.

Highlight of my tour was a landing on Inner Farne – an NT-owned historical site and utterly-teeming bird sanctuary . It's chick-feeding time at the moment, and the island is a seething mass of avian life. And dangerous too. Walk up the boardwalk from the harbour and you can expect to be repeatedly dive-bombed by angry Arctic terns . They're enraged that you've ignored their angry guttural squawks and have dared to intrude so close to their nests. Down they swoop, aiming for the top of your head, ready to peck and poke in the hope that you'll move away quickly. And ouch, that nip hurts. Well-prepared trippers wear a protective sunhat, or wave an arm above their head in an attempt to keep beak away from bonce. Meanwhile the island's four semi-resident bird wardens walk around serene and unperturbed beneath guano-splattered headgear.

St Aidan lived on Inner Farne back in the 7th century, and very sensibly he built a small stone chapel which provides refuge from aerial attack. But don't hide away, be brave, because the footpaths further up the island are all perfectly safe too. You can walk right up to the clifftops and look down on guillemots and razorbills packed and stacked across the rockface . Some are nesting only a few feet away, with greedy gaping beaks peering out expectantly from beneath their parent's black oily wings. Meanwhile in the grassy centre of the island are crowds of lovable puffins, guarding over the burrows in which their single offspring are busy hatching . Off flies Dad across the sea, returning with a mouthful of sprats which he attempts to get back to Mum before a diving gull snatches them away. You could easily stay and watch this natural spectacle for hours, but the boat'll be leaving soon. Good luck getting back to the harbour unassaulted.

posted 18:00 :

 Sunday, June 17, 2007

  Postcard from Northumberland
  Flodden Field

Of all the pitched battles fought between the English and the Scots (eg Bannockburn 1314, Wembley 1977), the largest and bloodiest skirmish took place nearly 500 years ago on Flodden Field. King James IV of Scotland thought it would be a good idea to declare war on England while King Henry VIII was away fighting in Italy. And so, on a damp September afternoon in 1513, a huge Scottish army assembled high above the Tweed Valley on the eastern edge of the Cheviot Hills. Their defensive position was strong, but a cavalier advance down from the hilltop proved a costly mistake. Within just three hours the advancing English army had slaughtered ten thousand men, and one of those was the King himself.

They grow barley in Flodden Field today, beneath a tall stone cross which commemorates the dead from both sides . Standing atop the ridge you can look out across the battlefield, now verdant farmland, towards the slopes down which so many Scottish pikemen made their final charge. A narrow boggy gully divides the enemy positions, once running with blood, where skylarks now play. Recently a mile-long walking trail has been established around the heart of the battlefield, with a series of excellent information boards relating different chapters in this sorry tale of mass inter-national carnage. A couple of miles to the north the Scottish border weaves invisibly across a silent valley. The site has an eerie silence, and an inappropriate beauty.

Also worth a visit...
Ford and Etal: A historic Borders estate, featuring a riverside narrow gauge railway which chugs aimlessly from Heatherslaw Corn Mill to Etal Castle.

posted 18:00 :

 Saturday, June 16, 2007

Ahm off up north

It's been a year since I last took a week's holiday, so I thought it was about time I did the same again. I'm not going quite as far as Scotland this time, but nearly. I'm off to the toppermost county in England which, scandalously, I've never visited before. I'll be staying in a fishing village along the utterly gorgeous coast, with a bedroom view straight out across the North Sea. Let's hope it doesn't chuck it down with rain too often.

I have severe doubts that this rural location will be blessed with leaky wi-fi connections, so blog updates are unlikely until I return (but you never know). In the meantime I shall attempt to provide you with a steady stream of Twitters by uploading text messages direct from my mobile phone. Don't expect thrilling hourly updates, but I'll try to bring you a flavour of the glorious North East whenever the opportunity arises. Because I'd hate you to think that you were missing out.

If you get bored while I'm away, here are some other things to look at:
• The Millennium Dome reopens on June 24th as a mobile-sponsored entertainment hub - The O₇. A new public space has just been opened outside, called Peninsula Square, and I've been along to take some photos. To see 20 of them, either click on the photo link in my sidebar or click here . It'll never be this empty again.
• You could always go and Walk the Olympic Park.
• There's plenty of old diamond geezer stuff to look through instead. This blog now has 58 monthly archive pages listed in the sidebar, so you could pick one of those at random every day and re-read it. That'd keep you busy until August (but I promise I'll be back a lot quicker than that).

posted 11:00 :

 Friday, June 15, 2007

London 2102

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From Wikipedia, the lightly-sponsored encyclopedia

London

EU Nation: ReUnited Kingdom

Country: English Archipelago

Area: 609 sq mi (1,577 km²)

Depth below sea level: 138m

This article is about a location in the ReUnited Kingdom. For other uses, see London (disambiguation).

London is the former capital city of the English Archipelago.

An important settlement for around two millennia, London is today one of the world's leading underwater theme parks.

Only a few remnants of Old London remain above sea level, notably Purley Cliffs and Biggin Hill. At low tide the London Eye, rebuilt following terrorist attack in 2039, can just be seen poking above the waters of Westminster Bay.

London forms part of the Northwest European continental shelf, and falls under the administrative jurisdiction of the ReUnited Kingdom.

Tourism and culture

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Visitors to London usually set sail from the nation's capital, Birmingham-on-Sea. Hoverskims depart from Bullring Beach every hour, taking approximately seventeen minutes to reach the Greater London Maritime Zone. On arrival at North Greenwich Floating Pierhead, visitors descend by glass elevator into the world's largest underwater seadome - The CO₂. Here all Carbon Passports are scanned and debited, and those with Negative Emission Equity are quarantined until their personal account equalises.

The highest of the Canary Wharf Islands

Bay-top attractions include the Hammersmith Lightship, Harrow Weald Island and the Dagenham International Surfboard Marina. A honeymoon resort has been established on the Canary Wharf Islands - an artificial archipelago of submerged skyscrapers. Couples can get married on a variety of themed lagoon beaches, taking full advantage of the area's tropical climate. Because the site lies in international waters, inter-species marriages are permitted here.

London's largest underwater resort is the Bayswater Seabed Spa, visited by an estimated 3.7 million people in 2099 ^{[citation needed]}. There are four thousand luxury pressurised hotel rooms, each with a view over the Hyde Park Coral Reef. The most popular subaqueous excursions are the Big Ben Diving Bell Experience and the Harrods Emporium Retail Blowout. In April 2103 the hotel's Banqueting Centre will host the 91st "Global Warming - Fact or Fiction?" Conference, sponsored by the George Bush IV Memorial Foundation.

Environmental history

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Main article: History of pre-Innundation London.
Much of London was lost beneath the sea during the three-day winter of 2063 when the Thames Riverwall gave way. The subsequent tidal wave caused 13 million deaths in the Woolwich area alone, and finally ended a century of property price rises across the capital. Private equity consortium Metrowet was later found guilty of gross negligence and its directors banished to Lunar Penal Camp 7. English First Minister Jadine Mbutu was forced to relocate Parliament first to Hampstead and then, as water levels rose further, to a village hall just outside Coventry.

Archaeologists recently embarked on a series of deep-level dives to recover artefacts from the London surface^[27]. Beneath Livingstone Square they found evidence of an ancient means of submarine travel called Oyster, whereby residents used blue cards to propel themselves along flooded tubes in leaky metal carriages. They also discovered millions of abandoned rusty four-wheeled vehicles, each powered by a petrol-driven engine banned under the Mumbai Convention of 2070. Carbon Police are currently attempting to trace the former owners of these vehicles so that their descendants can be sued for contributing to global flooding.

This article is a stub. You can help Wikipedia by expanding it.

posted 07:00 :

 Thursday, June 14, 2007

It's getting more and more crowded on the tube, and not because there are more passengers. It's because of bags. People never used to carry quite so many bags around with them, but now nearly everybody has at least one. Handbags, shoulder bags, carrier bags, gym bags, the list is almost endless. And what a lot of carriage space they take up. There you are trying to squeeze onto a train in the rush hour, but it's almost impossible to get on because a significant percentage of the carriage space is being taken up by bags. See that suited City bloke with a laptop bag in his hand and a holdall slung over his shoulder? Don't get too close or he'll squash you. Selfish space-hogger. See that secretary standing in the doorway with her cavernous handbag and three designer shopping bags? She may be thin herself, but these bags make her the spatial equivalent of an obese whopper. Selfish space-hogger. See that paint-stained workman with a chunky fat toolbox down on the floor where everyone keeps tripping over it? Nobody can get close to him. Selfish space-hogger. See that shaggy student type with a bulging rucksack drooping from his back? He's taking up double the space he would normally, because nobody can stand in the shadow of his artificial hunchback. Selfish space-hogger. This crowd and their excessive bag quotient are smugly clogging up the train, and there I am left standing on the platform as the doors close. Bags don't buy tickets, bags don't have a job to go to, but bags are travelling by tube in place of genuine passengers. If only a few more people would leave their carriers at home, more of the rest of us could be carried ourselves.

posted 07:00 :

It's getting more and more crowded on the tube, and not because there are more passengers. It's because of newspapers. People never used to carry quite so many newspapers around with them, but now nearly everybody has at least one. The number of free papers being thrust into Londoners' hands is almost endless. And what a lot of carriage space reading those newspapers takes up. There you are trying to squeeze onto a train in the rush hour, but it's almost impossible to get on because a significant percentage of the commuters inside insist on reading their newspapers. See that suited City bloke with a Financial Times flapping in his hands? He's not shutting it for anyone. Selfish space-hogger. See that secretary standing in the doorway engrossed in her London Lite? She's not noticed you, so you'll have to squeeze round to one side (if you can). Selfish space-hogger. See that paint-stained workman checking out the back of a red-top tabloid? Nobody's getting in the way of him reading the latest sports news. Selfish space-hogger. See that shaggy student type flicking through a discarded Metro? He's taking up double the space he would normally, because nobody's allowed to stand within his quarantined newsprint triangle. Selfish space-hogger. This crowd, and their refusal to stop reading when more commuters want to get on, are unnecessarily clogging up the train. Nobody has a divine right to read in an overcrowded carriage, nobody's open newspaper deserves to leave other passengers stranded on the platform. If only a few more people would learn to tolerate unstimulated commuting, more of the rest of us could climb on board.

posted 06:59 :

 Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Bilingual fashion advice

Millinery guidance for the young gentlefolk of Bow	serious headgear advisory for the E3 massive
Pop down to your local clothing shop and buy yourself a cap. Caps are very trendy at the moment. Everyone's wearing caps. Get yourself a cap.	yo wasapenin, wotcha need is a well smart cap, coz caps are totally phat bro, getchaself a right blingin cap from down Roman Road market alright
Now this must be a large cap, sonny. Not a dinky little baseball cap but a proper high fronted number with a nigh vertical slope. These finer touches are important.	gotta be full frontal, a proper biggedy biggedy cap, buy yourself a boss style, da steeper da better, coz anything flat is well last year, and we laugh at ya
Place the cap upon your head but don't pull it down. It must look like it's made of helium and somehow floating a few millimetres above your scalp.	wear ya cap with pride, but keep it light, mustn't squash your shiny gel spikes in front of your bruvvas, whatever, coz that'd be totally asbo
Whatever you do, don't let the peak of the cap face the front. That's so wrong. An anti-clockwise rotation of between 110° and 160° is sartorially acceptable.	spin dat cap boi, spin it good stick it to the rear boi, stick it outback twist dat cap boi, twist it good yer looking cool boi, rolling fresh
Now tilt the cap slightly backwards. It needs to recline at a jaunty angle, preferably somewhere between 20° and 40°. Not too far back, obviously, or you'll look like an idiot.	tippit back and make a stand, you gotta look erect, point your cap away from da street and up to da skies, dats how we do, it's completely mortal, it's proper beats
That's it, you've got the East End cap mentality perfectly. Now go and meet your cap-clone mates, hang around on your nearest street corner, and sneer.	hey streetmaster, yer looking wicked and yer face is right jackin, this is yer empire now capboi, it's gettin tribal, go hang out with da E3 massive and get random
By the way, I have to say that the new Dizzee Rascal album isn't very good, is it? Nothing stand-out, nothing with chart hooks, which is a damned shame.	big up our mate mc dizzee, yer Crossways posse salutes ya boi, dem is well banging tunes, coz grime is where it's at, and der rascal's cap is fierce innit?

posted 07:00 :

 Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Is it just me, or are there more stupid people than usual working for London-based PR projects at the moment?

The latest media-based fiasco to hit town is Capital Radio's Lights Out London campaign, which is planned to take place between 9pm and 10pm on Thursday of next week.

"Lights Out London aims to prove that we can all make a difference to the future of our planet. On Thursday June 21 - Midsummer's Night - we are inviting the whole of London to turn off all lights and non-essential appliances between 9 and 10pm. Getting involved couldn't be simpler. Register now to show your support, then all you have to do is remember to turn off all your lights and non-essential appliances on Midsummer's Night."

Which sounds like an excellent idea. It's environmentally sound, it helps to promote carbon-neutral living and it's simple for everyone in London to participate. The campaign's already had shedloads of publicity. Capital Radio are describing it as "the biggest environmental statement Britain has ever witnessed", and one of the other organising partners as "the world's biggest climate change event ever". The Mayor is behind it, Kim Wilde is behind it, hell even Sophie Ellis-Bextor is behind it. So it must a good thing, right?

Well, sadly no. Because the hyped-up PR gibbons have forgotten one very important fact about next Thursday - the longest day of the year. It won't actually be dark at 9pm. Brilliant.

HM The Queen: I say Philip, it's 9 o'clock and Buckingham Palace is taking part in the Lights Out London event thing. Be a good chap and turn off all the unnecessary lights in one's royal residence will you?
HRH Prince Philip: But it's not actually dark, so I haven't turned any of the lights on yet.
HM The Queen: Oh bugger.

If you head down to the middle of Canary Wharf at 9pm to experience the magic moment when all the lights go out and the stars suddenly become visible, you're going to be sorely disappointed. Sunset in London on June 21st isn't until 9:20pm, and even then it won't get dark immediately. Halfway through the hour-long event it'll still be bright enough outdoors not to need streetlights. Only as 10pm approaches will the sky darken appreciably, at which point the event will end and everyone will switch their lights back on again. Genius.

Still, it could have been worse. Capital Radio were originally planning to hold the event between 8pm and 9pm - far more media-friendly but astronomically even more useless. If they wanted to make a proper impact they should have waited until 10pm for the grand switch off, or chosen a date in the spring or autumn with an earlier sunset instead. But no, they're blundering on with their mistimed event, diluting any appreciable impact that this otherwise creditable campaign might have had.

Of course, even if it's not dark at 9pm next Thursday you can still make a difference by switching off all unnecessary appliances (including those on standby). This may not produce a grand visual gesture across the not-quite-twilight skies of the capital, but the National Grid will certainly notice if enough people take part. Switch Off London, they should have called it, even if that's not as alliterative as the original name. Because the daylight kick-off to Lights Out London is doomed not to be noticed.

As for me, I intend to be hundreds of miles away from the capital at the time, in a tiny fishing village where the sun doesn't set until rather later in the evening. It seems that I'll be participating in Lights Out London by default. So do me a favour. If you see anyone turning the lights off in my flat between 9pm and 10pm next Thursday please ring 999 immediately, because that'll be burglars.

posted 07:00 :

 Monday, June 11, 2007

London 2012 - the end days

For those of us who live in the Lower Lea Valley, the most important current item of 2012 news isn't the launch of the new Games logo, it's the imminent sealing off of the Olympic Park. Because the end is nigh, and now there's a date. Up until Sunday July 1st you'll still be able to live in, work in and wander through these 500 designated acres of industrial riverside. But on Monday July 2nd all the roads will be sealed off, a barrier will be erected around the perimeter and permanent eviction begins. If you want to pay a visit to this extra-special environment, for free, just three weeks now remain. After that you'll have to wait for five years, and buy a ticket.

The Olympic Delivery Authority's lawyers have been extremely busy right across the area recently attaching Compulsory Purchase Orders to walls, fences and lampposts. Each pack consists of several sheets of paper which read "Oi, we're coming in and we're taking over", only in considerably more legal language. Many businesses up Marshgate Lane have upped and gone already. They've cleared out their belongings, left a forwarding address on the gate and scarpered, leaving the ODA with plenty of clearing up to do. But not everybody's gone yet. They're still curing salmon at H Forman & Son, and the guard dogs at Wallis Motor and Salvage still bark as ferociously as they ever did. Meanwhile to the north of the site, along Waterden Road, an evangelical church, a Travellers' site and three bus garages have yet to move on. There's an awful lot of packing up still to go.

But an extensive network of wooden fences are already being erected. They're big and blue (why are they always blue?) and they're being hammered in alongside the handful of public footpaths that will remain open during the run-up to the Games. Nobody will be able to stray off the Greenway in the future, not once the final gap in the blue fence is plugged. Beyond the new wall, until very recently, were earthy mounds over which young bikers loved to practice their motocross skills. But these have all been levelled and severed, and the local boy racers are now noticeable by their absence. Meanwhile the green metal signposts which marked access points off the pathway have been ripped from the verge and dumped in an unceremonious heap of rubble behind the fence. It's a sign of things to come.

I took a not-quite-last stroll around the Olympic Park yesterday afternoon, just because I could. And I was particularly pleased to discover that the towpath alongside the Waterworks River had been unexpectedly unlocked. This path was firmly sealed off at both ends a couple of years ago, and I thought I'd never walk along it again. But someone has bent the bars in the fence at the northern end, and the gate to the south was wide open, so I thought I'd risk the 1km jungle safari inbetween.

It definitely wasn't this tough a journey the last time I visited. But natural vegetation has now had a couple of seasons to colonise the riverside (formerly wheelchair accessible) and the footpath is almost impenetrable at times. Thorny brambles, cow parsley and nettles stood above head height in places, and I was glad not to be wearing a t-shirt and shorts. At certain points I had to crouch to squeeze through a tunnel of foliage or stumble inelegantly over a fallen tree. But the riverside vista, now so rarely seen by human eyes, was well worth the adventure. Dragonflies floated silently above the water's edge. Bumble bees buzzed from dog rose to convolvulus. Freshly-paired waterfowl paddled between the reedbeds. Were it not for the excavators digging the foundations of the new Aquatic Centre on the opposite bank, it would have been hard to imagine that this was central London at all. But this won't be an overgrown rural idyll for much longer. By 2012 this towpath will have been swept away to make room for the Park's central walkway, and crossed by the main "land bridge" between Stratford City and the Olympic Stadium. And, I fear, it'll only be a few select visitors who'll ever remember the living waterway that once existed here.

All of the Bow Back Rivers are worth one final visit (or even a first visit if you've never been here before). Remember this is your very last chance to see the site that, for a single fortnight in 2012, will be the most famous location on the entire planet. And if you're heartily sick of me saying that, take comfort that I'll stop saying it in three weeks time. I wonder how many final visits I can make before then.

• Map of proposed road closures, 2 July 2007 [pdf]
• Olympic and Legacy Compulsory Purchase Order 2005
• Masterplan for the Olympic Park [pdf]
• Map of the Bow Back Rivers [aerial view]
• Free guided walks around the Olympic Park (depart Three Mills 11am and 2pm, Saturday and Sunday, until June 24th)

posted 07:00 :

 Sunday, June 10, 2007

Staff at Wolff Ollins, the agency who designed the London 2012 logo, are contractually forbidden from talking about it. But their former chairman Wally Ollins has spoken out to a Sunday newspaper, and probably let slip more than he was meant to...

"If you look at that logo, at what it's doing, it's incredibly powerful and you can see everything from paraplegics throwing balls to people diving off very high platforms to people jumping to people running. Every time it moves it makes a very powerful display and it's really clever and memorable. I can't think of any logo that has that immensely powerful effect when it's mobile... The whole point of the thing is that it moves."

Ha! See, I told you so. The London 2012 logo is indeed going to morph into a variety of different Olympic athletes, just like I suggested. No doubt it was part of the agency's overall marketing strategy to reveal this dynamic masterstroke on some planned date in the future. But that's where they went wrong. If only Seb & Co had revealed the full cleverness of their Olympic logo last Monday, people might actually have liked it. Bit late now though.

posted 16:00 :

Blind Light - Antony Gormley
Hayward Gallery: 17 May - 19 August

Admission: £8
(but cheaper if you're over 60) (and even cheaper if you're a student) (and half price on Mondays) (and absolutely free between 8am and 10am this weekend only, as part of the RFH Overture weekend) (so I went yesterday morning at half past eight, because I'm a cheapskate)

You've seen Antony Gormley. He's the Angel of the North. He's up to his neck in water on Crosby beach. And he's the bloke currently standing naked on various rooftops around the South Bank. Yes, him. A sculptor who focuses on the human form, specifically his own body, usually naked. Like you do. So an exhibition of his work ought to be rather interesting. And it is.

Two particular exhibits have got London talking. The first of these is Event Horizon - 31 humanoid statues littering the capital's skyline in seemingly random fashion. But make your way out onto one of the Hayward Gallery's three upper terraces and the epicentre of the work is suddenly clear. A cloned army of inert figures are looking up at you from the walkways below, and down from the rooftops above (from a very long way away in certain cases - however did Gormley have the audacity to scatter himself so widely?). This is art as a visual puzzle - how many of the hidden mannequins can you spot - and would make a very good long-distance eye test, should any central London optician be interested.

And secondly, inside the gallery, there's Blind Light - a glowing white cloud in a sweaty glass box. Fancy going inside? A gallery attendant stands by the narrow entrance wielding a health and safety laminate which you have to read before you're allowed to enter (warning: floor may be wet, claustrophics discouraged, etc). You may well laugh, but three steps through the portal and you'll soon discover that the warning was deadly serious. Everything in your field of vision, including the doorway, has completely vanished in an all-enveloping white fog. Try not to be distracted by the microscopic floaters swimming around in your eyeball, suddenly visible with crystal clarity. Time for a disoriented wander. Do you dare to stride bravely into the centre of the room, or will you sidle cautiously around the perimeter of the box for fear of getting lost. Occasionally a grey human form passes fleetingly by, then fades back into the swirling mist on a separate aimless voyage. Stumbling upon the glass wall always comes as a surprise, and here vision partially returns as you squint out into the surrounding gallery. Everyone outside the box is now watching you, trapped like a helpless zoo animal in a steamed-up cage. You've become part of the art, part of the show... maybe permanently if you don't manage to find the way out. Well, it feels like a genuine possibility at the time.

This being a particularly humid attraction, they have to close it down every now and again for a good scrub down. It's quite surreal peering in through the fading mist and spotting a man de-squelching the floor with a mop and bucket. And, as the white glow fades further, spotting a mass of chunky humidifiers hanging from the box's ceiling. Gormley's illusion is broken as the magic mist slowly drifts away.

There are plenty of other exhibits to view. Allotment is a room full of stacked concrete cuboids representing the bodily measurements of 300 Malmo residents (I was approximately the same size as person number 201, who's probably called Sven or something). Space Station is a 27-ton 'asteroid' assembled from scores of steel boxes, jammed diagonally into one of the Hayward's larger display spaces. Hatch is a room-sized box filled with sticky-out geometrically-aligned aluminium rods (step inside, carefully, and it's like being a Crystal Maze contestant in your very own two minute mystery challenge). Matrices and Expansions is a room full of Gormley's trademark cryptic bodyforms, each 'hidden' within a surrounding polyhedral aura. And there are further bodily images within the exhibition wherever you look - hanging from the ceiling, climbing a wall, splayed across the corner of a room, even nibbled out of a sliced bread mosaic. You'll certainly walk out with an intimate knowledge of Antony's multi-talented torso. And a smile on your face.

posted 01:00 :

 Saturday, June 09, 2007

Overture

The Royal Festival Hall reopened to the public yesterday after a two-year internal revamp. This iconic building was cutting edge, architecturally speaking, as the centrepiece of the Festival of Britain back in 1951. But the concrete grandeur slowly faded, and the acoustics were never great in the first place, so a major refurbishment became increasingly necessary. Has it all been worth it?

I headed down to the Nu-RFH at half past four yesterday afternoon, to see if the big bronze and glass doors had finally been unlocked. And unlocked they were, but only just. The central foyer was a hive of last-minute activity, mostly handymen and service staff, with only a few bemused members of the public wandering around inbetween. "Are we actually allowed in yet?" "Yes, looks like it." The bar was open, of course, and already doing brisk business. A herd of black-shirted catering assistants hovered round one pillar awaiting their final pre-launch briefing. Large bowtie-shaped plastic display cases were being wheeled around on trolleys, ready to to dispense multi-coloured leaflets to weekend visitors. Down half-a-level, on the Ballroom floor, members of a semi-Chinese Gamelan Orchestra were practising sedately for two performances later in the evening. Meanwhile, up a nearby stepladder, last minute adjustments were being made to overhead signage - this way to Level 3.

Being not quite properly open yet, most of the internal staircases were still taped off. No chance of gatecrashing that TV interview downstairs, but at least the upstairs walkways were semi-accessible. The carpet underfoot was a nigh perfect copy of the well-worn 1950s original - all muted green and geometrically retro. The handrails were still proper grainy undervarnished wood, not black plastic upgrades. Even the 'new' Skylon restaurant, overlooking a Thames-side terrace, looked like it might possibly serve up rationed ox-tongue and strawberry trifle. Indeed the whole ambience of the interior remains that of Modernernist austerity Britain - if you'd not been here before you'd almost never guess that the place had changed at all. Which is a bit of a triumph really.

I didn't stay for the party because the official kick-off was still a couple of hours away. But a non-stop 48 hour cultural event, entitled Overture, is now underway should any of you fancy popping down to see the RFH makeover for yourself. It's been arranged in short dip-in dip-out chunks, and there's bound to be something at your level. Maybe some poetry, or jazz, or a bit of African gospel. Or a sit-down in St Etienne's Turntable Cafe, or a strum-along with Billy Bragg, or even a proper orchestral extravaganza. There'll be thousands of proper orchestral extravaganzas in the revamped auditorium over the next few decades, and it would be great to see one of the first. All 24000 tickets for this weekend are free, so you've got nothing to lose.

Appearing Rooms: Meanwhile outside the Royal Festival Hall, at the northern end of the first floor terrace, they've installed an enormously enjoyable walk-in water feature. Fountains are the new face of interactive public art, so it would seem, and this square-shaped gusher is up there with the best of them. Imagine a 2-by-2 grid with water jets along every edge, each of which can be switched off independently. Every so often one of the liquid walls disappears and you can nip inside, or dash through from one square to another, without getting too damp. And then the jets re-spurt and you're trapped inside your watery cell... at least until another wall fades (or you risk running through the upward torrent to freedom). Anybody under the age of 10 will adore it. Anybody with a child under the age of 10 will love having an excuse to dive into it. And I'd have loved to have had a go myself, had there not been quite so many serious-looking people all standing around with predatory cameras poised. Maybe later in the summer, when nobody's looking...

• Overture - 8-10 June 2007
• Saint Etienne - artists in residence
• The Festival of Britain - building the future

posted 00:51 :

 Friday, June 08, 2007

London in picture's (4)

T.M.Lewin - City shirtvendors

posted 07:00 :

BB8 - Animal Farm

cow Charley	beef Ziggy	duck Laura
chickens Amanda   Sam	horse Emily	goat Shabnam
sheep Chanelle   Nicky	mutton Carole   Lesley	scarecrow Tracey

Still 12 weeks to go, you know...

posted 00:08 :

 Thursday, June 07, 2007

iPlayer

Miss last night's episode of the Apprentice? Want to watch Saturday's Doctor Who again? Let's hope you set the video recorder, or programmed the Sky+, or can work out where they're hiding the repeat showing on some digital channel later in the week. How much easier it is with BBC radio programmes, where you can "listen again" online, up to 7 days later, no matter where you are. If only there could be a way to do the same with BBC TV programmes. Well, there is...

The BBC's iPlayer will, one day, allow you to "watch again". It's been a long, long time in development, blighted by technological difficulties and high level red tape. But the BBC Trust recently gave the iPlayer project the go ahead, convinced that it delivers public value, and the full service will begin sometime later in the year. Just as soon as a trial of 1000 UK-based net users has proved that it actually works.

And, ooh, what do you know, I'm one of those lucky 1000! I expressed an interest in signing up months and months ago, so I was dead surprised to receive a recent email from the BBC's inner technological sanctum inviting me to take part. Yes please, let me in. It's UK residents with PCs only at the moment (sorry, no Macs yet), and I have to use Internet Explorer because the process relies on Microsoft's DRM systems (boo hiss). First I downloaded the basic iPlayer software, which'll sit on my computer until the trial ends, and then I was off.

What a lot of programmes there are to choose from. It's only BBC-generated shows (no Neighbours or Diagnosis Murder) and it's only stuff from the last 7 days (no Queen's Christmas Message or I Claudius). But that still leaves quite a bit. A week of Newsnights, for example, and Chucklevision, and Springwatch Nightshift, and Casualty, and even Welsh First Minister's Questions. I haven't sampled the latter, obviously. But I have caught up with the Doctor Who Confidential I missed while I was on the train coming back from Dungeness, and a couple of programmes I only realised were worth watching after I'd read the review in the following day's paper. iPlayer can really change your viewing habits.

I'm finding that each show is taking rather a long time to download, which may be because this isn't yet the final product or it may be the fault of my broadband connection. But I can store hours and hours of programmes in my online library, at least until each individual show expires. I'm allowed 7 days after first terrestrial broadcast to watch it, and then a further 7 days to watch it again (and again and again if I so desire). And then *pop* - the file vanishes. Damn, that's last Wednesday's Balamory I've just lost forever.

Programmes appear in little pop-up windows - nothing enormous, but perfectly big enough. But the killer feature is the option to view everything full screen, in really quite impressive picture quality. I don't even need to be connected to the internet. So if I want to watch last Sunday's episode of Coast full screen on my laptop whilst commuting underneath London on the Central line, then I can. Wow. It's an honour to be taking a sneak peek into the future of online public service broadcasting. And, so long as the final product can be made properly niggle-free, I think you're going to love it.

posted 07:00 :

 Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Three things you may not have noticed about the London 2012 brand

Nigh everyone in Britain must have noticed this image by now. This pink splodgy thing has been everywhere over the last 48 hours, invariably accompanied by a rare torrent of vitriolic criticism. But this is not the brand, this is the logo. This is only one small part of the brand package launched by the London 2012 team on Monday. Because, as marketeers repeatedly insist on telling us, there's a lot more to a brand than just a logo. A brand is an overarching umbrella concept embracing associative expectations of public perception. It's not about what the logo looks like, it's about what it stands for. And, in the gruesome media dogfight of recent days, I reckon that 95% of the British public have completely missed what this epileptic zigzag stands for.

1) "London 2012 will be everyone's Games, everyone's 2012."
Every modern brand needs a slogan - a few choice words to encapsulate what it's all about. The 2012 team appear to have plumped for a single eight-letter word - everyone. It may not be cutting edge, and they probably paid someone far too much to think it up, but it's a clever choice. Ever since Seb and friends sealed London's 2012 bid, the team's emphasis has been on getting people involved. Don't just wait for the Games to start, join in now. Get up off the sofa and you too could be on the winner's podium. Or two stone thinner. It's a noble concept, totally in line with Olympic ideals. It's what Tony Blair was actually talking about when he said he hoped the new brand would inspire people to make a positive change in their life. But most Britons undoubtedly failed to spot that on Monday, because they were too busy grimacing at the logo.

2) "Passion", "Inspiration", "Participation" and "Stimulation"
Every modern brand needs brand values - a selection of key concepts aligned to core intentions. Or so we're told. But brand values are surely one of the most pointless inventions in modern corporate history. Who gives a damn that an organisation has distilled its core values into a handful of abstract concepts? Only marketing managers and PR facilitators, and never the man or woman in the street. Brand values may sound impressive on paper but they're always deceptively meaningless. Take the four 2012 brand values, for example - "Passion", "Inspiration", "Participation" and "Stimulation". This verbal quartet could be the brand values for a nightclub full of cokeheads. Or a gang of football hooligans. Or even a brothel. That's how meaningless these brand values really are. And my apologies if that third suggestion has made you look at the logo in yet another different way.

3) "I used to smoke 40 cigarettes a day. I decided to try karate."
Every modern brand needs a video - a reel of YouTube-able frames which personifies the core message in an appealing dynamic presentation. The 2012 team launched two videos at their grand presentation on Monday. You probably haven't watched either of them. That's just as well in one case, because the amateurish flashing images have already induced epileptic fits in several sensitive youngsters. Most definitely not the increased physical activity the 2012 team were hoping for. But the second video hits the spot a little better. Various ordinary Britons, with seemingly no Olympic connection whatsoever, describe how they've made a simple physical change for the better. If the 2012 team can keep up this particular idea up for five years, their brand might still succeed. But only if you lot can be bothered to watch, and be inspired, and get motivated. And stop being distracted by that logo.

Oh yes, a brand is much more just than a logo. But, in this case, the logo has unintentionally hijacked the entire campaign launch. Most people are already thinking "oh my God, that's crap" instead of "oh wow, I must change my life for the better", which is going to make future brand rollout a real uphill struggle. There really is such a thing as bad publicity. But hey, if this embarassing debacle inspires a few fewer kids to become PR consultants and marketing executives when they grow up, then it may just have been worthwhile after all.

posted 07:00 :

 Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Everyone's 2012^TM

Hi Seb. We're Wolff Olins, and we're global brand marketing experts. Thanks for asking us to create the official brand experience for the London 2012 Olympics. Would you like to see what we've done with the £400,000 you gave us? We've come up with a striking brand emblem which we know the youth of Britain are going to take to their hearts. We know, because a focus group told us.

What do you think?


Great, isn't it? It ought to be - it's taken us a year to develop. It embraces aspirational vision. It embodies our four key brand pillars. It will form the nucleus of an all-inclusive marketing campaign. It really speaks to the nation. Because you can't get more cutting edge than jaggedy shapes with yellow edging, eh?

See what we've done? We've taken the key elements of the 2012 London Olympic Games and transformed them into a global brand identity.

• First there's the year itself - 2012. Our logo is nothing but a giant 2012, digit by digit. Clever, huh? That's worth most of the £400,000 all by itself. Plus the compact squarish shape fits perfectly on a mobile phone as wallpaper, which is absolutely essential if we're going to get the nation's obese 12 year olds to take up archery or whatever.

• Then there's the host city - London. Our Risk Assessment Team advised against using a recognisable landmark like Big Ben or the London Eye, just in case evil terrorists might blow it up at some point during the next five years. Always play safe, they urged. So we thought we'd just write the word "London" across one of the digits, but without using capital letters. How cool are we?

• Next there's the Olympics themselves. The five Olympic rings are one of the most lucrative brand assets on Earth. So we've shoved them in the middle of the zero and sucked all the colour out of them. You'll like this, Seb. We're producing four different versions of the logo in four diverse fluorescent shades, and we haven't used a single one of the official Olympic colours. No really, lime and pink are very 'in' this year.

• And finally there's the raison d'être of the event - the Games. We're talking sport, we're talking competition, we're talking physical excellence. Sorry, we've completely ignored that part. It didn't fit in with the image we wanted to project, so the sporting angle got binned. Nobody'll notice.

Don't worry, we've checked that the final logo passes all known quality thresholds. Kevin's Mum liked it when we showed it to her, and Steve's cousin Mandy thought it looked "well smart". There's absolutely no danger of anyone thinking it looks like cartoon characters having sex. Well we hadn't noticed anyway. Everyone'll love it, guaranteed, or your money back.

We'll admit that the new logo doesn't look its best in two dimensions. It's much more exciting, more dynamic, when you see the animated image instead. The brand will look great as a video loop on the telly, and fantastic as a flickering jpg on your MySpace page. It's just a pity that you'll have to use the static version in "old media" environments such as newspapers and advertising leaflets, and on all those baseball caps and mugs and mousemats you're hoping to flog. But never fear - everyone'll judge you on the thrilling 3D image, not the flat version.

And we've got one final visual trick up our sleeve. The logo won't always look like this - it's going to evolve over the next five years. That big pink splodge, that's really a head. The top left zigzag is an arm, that mysterious floating rectangle is part of an athlete's torso, and those lower shapes are both legs. Obviously we're not planning on telling anybody this yet, but all will become clear when we reveal later digital versions of the logo. Meanwhile the green version's going to morph into a cyclist, the orange version into a swimmer and the blue version into a wheelchair athlete. I'm sure people won't mind waiting a few years for the clever bit. Everyone will be so impressed.

So that's the inspirational brand identity we've developed for you. It's bold, it's modern and it's different. It's a cultural accessory which promotes a genuine lifestyle upgrade. More than that, it's undeniably memorable. One thing I can assure you Seb, everyone'll be talking about it tomorrow, just you wait and see.

posted 00:12 :

 Monday, June 04, 2007

www.flickr.com: Dungeness gallery
(contains 25 pebble-dashed photographs)

posted 23:59 :

Seaside postcard 2: Dungeness
It's the UK's largest expanse of shingle. It's made up of 4000 exposed acres of pebbles. It's got two lighthouses, a nuclear power station and a scrappy street of tumbledown cottages. It's 23 miles from the nearest Argos. It's the most southeasterly point in England. In the winter it's utterly bleak and miserably windswept. It's not somewhere you'd ever go accidentally. It's Dungeness. I loved it.

Only a few scattered clumps of sea kale and sea campion have managed to colonise the broad strip of barren stones closest to the water's edge. Here and there lie abandoned boats, some still seaworthy, others that will never sail again. Rusty metal tracks lead out past tumbledown huts to the summit of a steep shingle bank. Repeated wave action has built up the pebbles into perfectly-ridged steps , at risk of being destroyed underfoot by hordes of thoughtless human footsteps. Thankfully few come, and the English Channel is always ready with a fresh top-up.

Dungeness Power Station: What else would you build in the middle of a Special Conservation Area but two nuclear power stations ? Dungeness A is the old Magnox reactor, brought online in 1965 but switched off last New Year's Eve and now undergoing 105 years of decomissioning. Let's hope that global warming doesn't drown the site first. Meanwhile Dungeness B opened for business in 1983 and isn't due to be switched off until 2018. Which isn't long, really, given how long the site will remain unusable afterwards. In the meantime you can come down to Dungeness and picnic right outside the security fence, or walk along the high shingle ridge between the reactors and the sea , or just go for a swim in the discharge outfall and see what happens. But, should the sirens ever sound and you need to make a swift exit, remember that the miniature trains from the nearby station have a maximum speed of only 25mph. Keep your fingers crossed.

Dungeness Lighthouses: If you're sailing a boat along the English Channel, this is one headland you'll want to avoid. There have been at least five lighthouses here over the last 400 years , shifting ever further seaward as the shingle bank has increased in size. The circular living quarters around the base of the 1792 lighthouse survive, and are currently up for sale for a mere £1½ million . Beside this stands a 1904 replacement, rising 41 metres above the shingle, and this is now open to the public. 169 steps curl precipitously around the inside of the tower, up to a viewing platform around the mighty lamp from which there are the most magnificent views in all directions. You can gaze inland across the unrelenting flatness of Romney Marsh , or stare out to sea, or maybe catch sight of a rising cloud of steam billowing up from the next approaching steam train. It's also possible to look down onto the neighbouring power station... although the power station turned out to be a problem once built because ships approaching from the west were unable to see the lighthouse any more. So Trinity House built a new tower, tall and slender and rather closer to the coastline, which still belts out light in the general direction of France.

Prospect Cottage: This black-timbered former fisherman's cottage is famous as the former home of film director Derek Jarman. He was drawn to this desolate nuclear headland by its isolation, and used the surrounding area as the setting for his film The Last of England. After being diagnosed HIV-positive in the late 80s, Derek set about creating a garden amongst the shingle, and succeeded in creating an enchanting soil-free environment. The garden survived his death in 1994, and visitors can still trample (carefully) around it today. Just don't go up to the window and stare into the cottage - the current owner doesn't appreciate that. Sticks and stumps and rusty metal structures rise up from the stones , like an enormous random rockery. The front garden is a little more formal , the back garden rather less so . The vegetation is a riot of colour in early summer - an oasis in a gravel desert - but even in midwinter this garden stands out as something very different, something very special.

Also around here:
• Two pubs - The Pilot Inn and The Britannia
• An RSPB bird sanctuary and Bird Observatory
• A lifeboat station
• more words and pictures

posted 07:00 :

 Sunday, June 03, 2007

Seaside postcard 1: The Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Light Railway
It was 80 years ago this summer, in July 1927, that "The World's Smallest Public Railway" opened for business along the south Kent coast. The RH&DR was the brainchild of an Edwardian millionaire - Captain Jack Howey - who owned a couple of miniature steam locomotives but had nowhere to drive them. He ended up building his narrow gauge railway between the two Cinque Ports of Hythe and New Romney, later extended to a full 13½ miles in length, and it soon became popular with local people and visitors alike. The railway had to be rebuilt after WW2, and rescued following lack of investment in the 1960s, but it's chugged along happily ever since.

This is a railway unlike any other. The locomotives are little (but not stupidly tiny like those sit-on efforts you find in parks) . There are a couple of diesels, but most of the fleet are proper steam engines lovingly buffed up with Brasso. The carriages are also little (don't stand up, you'll do yourself an injury) . You get a choice of enclosed or open-sided, with the latter much the better option on a sunny weekend like this. There's even a special licensed "bar car" (called Gladys) in which you can sip wine and beer as the countryside sweeps by, but it only seats about 20 merry punters so get in fast . The rest of the train tends to be full of families - mostly young parents taking their awestruck 4 year-old son out for a special choo choo treat. The railway's clearly a much-loved part of the local community - everyone stops and waves when a train goes by, and it's hard to resist waving back. The whole enterprise is extremely professionally run, but with an endearingly amateur air.

It takes just over an hour to rock and rattle across Romney Marsh from one end to the line to the other, which is extremely good value for money compared to some other steam railways I could mention. And there are six stations along the way - some of which are actually worth getting out at...

Hythe: Hythe is a little coastal town, once very important in these parts, now overshadowed by Folkestone nextdoor. It's most famous for the collection of 2000 skulls stacked up neatly in the crypt beneath St Leonard's Church, but unfortunately I didn't have time to visit. Hythe station lies to the west of the town, alongside the peaceful waters of the Royal Military Canal - a defensive channel stretching 28 miles across the top of Romney Marsh, built to keep Napoleon at bay. Board your mini train from one of the station's three platforms and prepare to steam off.

Dymchurch: It's a good 20 minutes to the next station as the train clatters across flat marshy cornfields and pasture, scattering fresh-shorn sheep in clouds of smoke. A high defensive sea wall is visible in the distance, but not Dymchurch's famous Martello Towers. At the station there are hoardings promoting a more slightly more modern attraction - "Hop off now for MW's Fun Park". I wasn't tempted, but a sizeable contingent of toddlers and weary parents disembarked here for a nice day on the beach.

St Mary's Bay: This insignificant halt was originally built to serve the local holiday camps but those are long gone, replaced by estates of 1970s bungalows. From the train you get to peer into a succession of back gardens, lovingly adorned with rotary driers, stone ornaments and showy conservatories. Prolific children's author Edith Nesbit used to live close to the station - one suspects her garden was rather more pristine - but died a few years before the railway opened.

New Romney: This is the railway's central base, complete with major 4-platform station and several engine sheds . The place is crawling with people "playing at railways" - be it checking tickets, waving flags or just riding a steam loco up and down for the fun of it. The souvenir shop sells Thomas the Tank Engine flags for 75p, should one of your party require one, plus all sorts of narrow gauge memorabilia. Nextdoor is a rather gloomy cafe and, up the stairs, a compact model railway exhibition whose finest feature is an extensive child-entrancing OO gauge layout. As for New Romney itself, the town used to be one of the Cinque Ports until a particularly nasty storm in the 13th century diverted the local river and silted up the harbour. Now the old town lies a full mile from the sea, but you can still see boat hooks and tidemarks on the wall of the Norman church.

Romney Sands: If you're lucky enough to visit when the tide's out, there are some really extensive sandy beaches here. Unfortunately you won't see them from the train. The railway is shielded from the sea by a long thin ribbon of none-too-gorgeous retirement homes, stretching south across increasingly shingly ground. A "holiday village" of identikit caravans shields the view inland, which is even more a shame because the gravel pit beyond hides a special secret. This is the location of the Denge acoustic mirrors, giant concrete listening posts built before the invention of radar, now visible only on special guided tours . Alas the next visit isn't until 22 July, so otherwise stay on the train - nothing to see here.

[There's one last station to go, and it's the most special of the lot - more tomorrow]

posted 09:00 :

 Saturday, June 02, 2007

Big Brother 8 the housemates	Amanda & Sam aka: the Marchant twins 18 from Newcastle pink fluffy students bouncy twee poppets vacant Barbie twosome odds: 20/1	Carole aka: Carole Vincent 53 from Waltham Forest failed Respect candidate bubbly veggie activist big frizzy foster mum odds: 6/1
Chanelle aka: Chanelle Hayes aka: "Victoria Beckham" 19 from Wakefield Posh WAG wannabe aspiring obsessive odds: 20/1	Charley aka: Charley Uchea 21 from SE London art college dropout feisty ruthless bitch preening flaunter odds: 50/1	Emily aka: Emily Parr 19 from Bristol drama student suburban indie princess upright and arrogant odds: 20/1
Laura aka: Laura Williams 23 from Rhondda children's nanny big busty and broad upbeat and practical odds: 5/1 (fav)	Lesley aka: Lesley Brain 60 from Gloucestershire retired headhunter mature WI matron politely fearsome odds: 25/1	Nicky aka: Nicky Maxwell 27 from Watford accounts executive Anglo-Indian orphan gobby glamma gal odds: 16/1
Shabnam aka: Shabnam Paryani 22 from N London receptionist temp in-yer-face chatterbox bunny in the headlights odds: 40/1	Tracey aka Tracey Barnard 36 from Cambridgeshire peace-loving cleaner unscrubbed & unadorned gurning cheesy raver odds: 12/1	Ziggy aka: Zak Lichman 26 from N London would-be music producer chiselled smooth operator failed boyband totty odds: 6/1

Ah, dont't you just love it? Or maybe not...

posted 00:08 :

 Friday, June 01, 2007

London 2012 - brand new

Have you visited the London 2012 Olympic homepage recently? Like, very recently. They've shifted the usual homepage out of the way to make room for a full screen splash announcing the imminent launch of the new London 2012 brand. It's being launched on Monday, in front of "a select audience of London 2012 friends and family". Presumably this is the great and thrilling moment when someone fires up a Powerpoint presentation and reveals
• the London 2012 brand all-inclusive slogan
• the London 2012 brand swirly logo wotsit
• the London 2012 brand mission statement thingy

I bet you can't wait.

This being the 21st century, the announcement has to be preceded by an 4-day online awareness campaign. It's no longer good enough simply to announce "we have a brand". You have to attempt to stir up interest in advance with a series of internet mutterings and word-of-mouth recommendations. These are called "digital touchpoints" (honest) according to the "user experience designers" (honest) who created them. They've tried to created a sense of pre-launch mystery by hiding viral videos around the web in the hope that bloggers will start talking about them. Well, they've got their way, because that's exactly what I'm doing. But not in a good way. Not good at all.

"Are you ready for the new London 2012 brand?" Well, no actually. Why would I want to be?

"Want to be one of the first to see it?" No thanks. I can wait to see the official 2012 logo - I don't need a premature peek.

"Solve today's clue to find a sneak preview of what it's all about." Sigh. Who's going to be inspired to hunt down an embedded video on a hard-to-find blog. Thursday's chosen blog shunted the "clue post" off their front page in 16 hours flat, such was their interest. Today's blog hasn't even stuck the video on their front page in the first place, because the feed isn't working properly. Great stuff. And, even after you've finally located them, each preview presentation turns out to be worthy but dull, better suited to motivating a school assembly than an online audience.

"Please do join the treasure hunt and be inspired and see something with impact" Oh please. Can't you just wait until Monday and show us the real stuff.

There was me hoping that the 2012 Olympics might be about sport. Silly me. It appears to be about brand values (namely "Passion", "Inspiration", "Participation" and "Stimulation") and corporate behemoths aligning their marketing strategies to fit preferred sponsor niches. How much am I bid for a bit of "Olympic Spirit"? To the average Londoner, all of this media-savvy branding is just a stream of inconsequential drivel. We're just not interested. Please, can we get back to talking about building swimming pools, developing young athletes and knocking down electricity pylons. Thank you.

(oh and Amy, can I assure you that I started writing this post before you sent me your oh-so-hopeful email)

posted 00:15 :