Rat traps, a flyer with six vouchers for a McDonalds burger deal (at local drive-thru only), flappy poster, the double decker 'Spirit of London', windowbox with hydrangeas, an old man riding his bike slowly in the wrong direction down a Cycle Superhighway toward an oncoming bus, temporary traffic lights, heavy embankmenting in readiness for full-on residentialisation, digital poster inviting passers by to visit Tennessee, padel courts.
Longstanding barbershop transformed into beauty salon, Superloop consultation poster on bus stop Superloop won't serve, council operative vigorously poking the inside of a litter bin, banner promoting local pantomime (featuring loud sounds, flashing lights and mild peril), posters advertising Non Drop Christmas Tree Sale, police interviewing angry man near ticket barrier, empty Meal Deal tray, dyed moustache, two binbags (one white, one green) both containing an identical selection of mostly unrecyclable litter, advert for Christmas Jumper Day.
Rail Adhesion Train (with poppy, lest we forget), teenager spitting on platform, pensioner who walked to the station just to pick up a Metro, hair salon with a backwards 'S' in its name, hot estate agent, sculpted thistle, man with heavily tattooed knees, upturned Strongbow can on railings, 'Wet Paint' sign on bus shelter whose paint is clearly no longer wet, onset of heavy rainfall.
Sign saying "Access for light ride on mowers only", bin numbered 848, closed Texaco garage (awaiting opportunity to become 40 flats), closed psychiatric hospital (awaiting opportunity to become 845 flats), closed pub (awaiting investment partner), colourful illuminated fountains, special offer on chicken fillets, space invader clutching pint of beer, extra long bamboo skewer, drippy awning.
£10 bag of barbecue charcoal, Ethiopian/Eritrean restaurant, goalmouth full of seagulls (a 'gullmouth', perhaps), riverside park at the "embankment of mud" stage of its early evolution, power station belching steam, new power station rising alongside, bifurcated brook, discarded keycard from nearby Premier Inn, three banners outside an enormous Tesco (one of which says it's going to be improved, one of which says it's being improved and one of which says the improvements have finished), puddles.
Honky truck, poster for Europe's Craziest Soca Holiday (Zante, May 2026), Mark's plaque, Tesco tuna and cucumber sandwich disappearing inside a hoodie, hurried teenager pushing past me, same teenager hovering behind wide gate so he can walk through the barriers without paying, same teenager waiting for bus, increasingly damp leopardskin blanket covering homeless person's worldly belongings, adidas Gazelles in fluorescent orange and green, querulous dog.
Coffee cup abandoned on stairs, annoyingly wet gap between end of stairs and start of canopy, woman applying lipstick before cuddling up for a selfie, man simultaneously vaping and drinking lager and wearing a purple shirt, spattered canal, entire passenger contingent turfed off onto platform due to train fault, bedraggled member of Greek cabin crew (called Mark), poppy-branded Overground train, pad of sudokus (the top one with six numbers scribbled out), paisley headscarf.
Dirty bucket hat, woman trying to work out where to discard her banana skin, flashing purple scooter, baby in pouch intently watching mother's phone screen, family of five all wearing fashionable neutrals with not a splash of colour, soggy Ugg boots, 140th anniversary sign erected seven years ago, rain dripping down the window, bin confirming station is indeed in this borough, One Stop shop.
Chicken shop with a 'Generally Satisfactory' rating, overhead electric heater, Star Bar emerging from woolly handbag, office worker failing to grab the seat beside me and in the process shaking raindrops off his umbrella all over the notes I've been scribbling down, conference escapees, over-hopeful escalator, nice weather for ducks, actual ducks, rubber duck, also two swans.
Tray of pesto pasta being wolfed down, red polka dot umbrella, 38 year-old telephone, determined but rainswept jogger, electric bus whose destination is shown as 'Electric Bus', scaffolders wishing the weather was better, reopened launderette, shop window display entirely comprised of kitchen roll and toilet rolls, window I've been meaning to clean for weeks, brown package leaning against my neighbour's front door.
» Only three London boroughs have fewer than 10 stations - Barking and Dagenham (7), Havering (9) and Sutton (9).
» Only two boroughs have no TfL stations - Kingston and Sutton.
» And only one borough has fewer than 25 bus routes - poor old Sutton again.
He is wrong there, Sutton's had two tram stops since 2000, but maybe the leader of the council doesn't go to the Beddington Lane Industrial Estate very often.
It's not true that most Sutton stations only see a half-hourly frequency. Carshalton and Hackbridge get four trains an hour (although annoyingly four minutes apart followed by a 26 minute gap). Carshalton Beeches and Wallington get four an hour (although annoyingly five minutes apart followed by a 25 minute gap). Cheam gets four an hour (appropriately spaced). But Belmont, West Sutton and Sutton Common do only see two trains an hour, the latter on the dawdly Thameslink Loop. As for Sutton station it gets ten services an hour to central London, heading in five different directions, so it matters whether you want to end up at Victoria, Blackfriars or London Bridge.
But is ten trains an hour the worst of any London borough? I thought I'd check.
I made a list of all the outer London boroughs and counted up all the trains that go there from central London. I checked for a single hour, off-peak. I assumed a starting point at a central London terminus and accepted any direct train to any station within the borough boundary.
In Newham's case that includes Greater Anglia, Crossrail, c2c, DLR and three tube lines. In Sutton's case there's only Thameslink and Southern. I hope my spreadsheet was correct but I might have missed a few.
Trains per hour from central London
Newham
104
Redbridge
32
Haringey
84
Enfield
31
Brent
65
Hounslow
30
Ealing
63
Havering
29
W Forest
54
Croydon
28
Merton
52
Bromley
24
Barnet
48
Bexley
21
Harrow
48
Kingston
20
Hillingdon
45
Richmond
18
Bark & Dag
33
Sutton
10
Unsurprisingly the boroughs closest to central London have the most trains. Newham and Haringey thrive by being served by three frequent tube lines. Waltham Forest is the best served borough on the edge of London, mainly thanks to the Victoria line. Northwest and northeast London are best connected by train. Merton is the only borough south of the river in the first column, courtesy of the Northern line.
Havering would be struggling without the Elizabeth line. Havering is the least-connected borough north of the river. Bexley would be second from bottom were it not for Crossrail. Southwest London comes out worst of all, so is the least well connected part of the capital. And oh look, Sutton is bottom by miles, so the leader of the council is right to complain.
I also wondered how long it takes to get to all the outer London boroughs from central London. Starting from any central London terminus, what's the quickest you can get from there to any station in the borough?
I had a go at getting to Sutton as quickly as possible. Thameslink is a disaster area because the loop via Wimbledon or Streatham takes ages. The Epsom Downs train from Victoria is hopeless because it goes via Croydon and stops everywhere. The fast train from London Bridge reaches Wallington in 27 minutes, so that's better. But the fastest is a Dorking train from Victoria which reaches Hackbridge in 24 minutes. Look I actually gave it a try.
The borough of Sutton is thus at least 24 minutes from central London by train. But how about the rest?
Quickest train from central London
Ealing
6 minutes to Acton Main Line [Crossrail]
Newham
7 minutes to Stratford [Greater Anglia]
Haringey
9 minutes to Seven Sisters [Victoria]
Brent
9 minutes to Kilburn [Jubilee]
Hounslow
9 minutes to Stamford Brook [District]
W Forest
11 minutes to Leyton [Central]
Croydon
11 minutes to Norwood Junction [Thameslink]
Harrow
12 minutes to Harrow-on-the-Hill [Chiltern]
Barnet
13 minutes to Cricklewood [Thameslink]
Bark & Dag
14 minutes to Barking [c2c]
Ealing is the closest outer London borough to central London, thanks to Crossrail. Newham is second closest, being barely outer London at all. For Brent I started measuring from Baker Street, which seemed fair. For Hounslow I started at Earl's Court (it's twice as long from Victoria, indeed the majority of the borough's quite poorly connected). Croydon is the only south London borough in the Top 10, courtesy of fast trains between London Bridge and East Croydon. All of the above can be reached in under 15 minutes.
And now the slowest 10 boroughs.
Quickest train from central London (contd)
Havering
15 minutes to Romford [Greater Anglia]
Bromley
15 minutes to Orpington [Southeastern]
Merton
16 minutes to Wimbledon [SWR]
Richmond
16 minutes to Richmond [SWR]
Redbridge
17 minutes to Ilford/Wanstead/Snaresbrook
Hillingdon
18 minutes to Hayes & Harlington [Crossrail]
Enfield
18 minutes to Ponders End [Greater Anglia]
Kingston
18 minutes to Surbiton [SWR]
Bexley
20 minutes to Abbey Wood [Crossrail]
Sutton
24 minutes to Hackbridge [Southern]
Havering can be reached in 15 minutes only once an hour on the fast train to Southend. If you miss that the fastest way to Havering is 22 minutes on c2c, Crossrail being even slower. It's quicker to get to Orpington than much closer pasrts of Bromley. Richmond gets just two fast trains an hour. No fast trains go to Redbridge, only stoppers. Technically the fastest way to Hillingdon is the Heathrow Express, but Hayes and Harlington is only 1 minute slower. Enfield is the slowest north London borough to get to. Fast trains make Surbiton quicker to reach than closer parts of Kingston. Bexley is second from bottom even with the benefit of Crossrail. But oh look, Sutton is the slowest borough to get to by a wide margin.
Bad luck Sutton. No tube, not many stations, no cheap TfL fares, the fewest number of bus routes, the fewest number of direct trains and the slowest journeys from central London. The leader of the council is not wrong to think the borough's getting a very bad deal.
There's not much can be done, not that would be transformational. Crossrail 2 was never coming this way, the Sutton tram proposal has been permanently shunted to the backburner and there are no other rail extensions on the table.
The best that could be hoped for is an increase in frequency on some of the Sutton rail routes, for example restoring the two fast trains from Sutton to Victoria withdrawn in 2022, ditto extra trains to Croydon. But local politicians squashed the best long-term option when the Thameslink upgrade was launched. The Sutton Loop could have had four trains an hour rather than two if they'd terminated at Blackfriars (where a spare platform lies waiting), but local interests campaigned for fewer through trains instead. Even reversing that decision wouldn't lift Sutton off the bottom of the London borough league table, but it might be a decent start.
Sunday was the third busiest day ever on diamond geezer. That's as measured by the number of people visiting the blog, which in this case was over five times more than an average Sunday.
I thought it might be because of my post about the history of British Summer Time but no, as is usual in these cases it was an old post coming to the fore as a focus of interest. It was only a week old but no longer current because it was a post about my Dad's birthday. People found the combination of "asbestos can be really bad for you" and "it's not great when a parent dies at a young age" evocative, hence a single mention on the Hacker News portal gained more upvotes than anything else I've written, also 212 comments. "It still cuts me up to think about how my kids have never known my dad, and their grandad," said hnlmorg. "Great article to reinforce my unease at finding asbestos tiles while remodeling a bedroom," said moribvndvs. It's always a surprise what resonates.
I checked through the Top 10 to see which web services had brought people here and it was 40% Hacker News, 40% Reddit and 20% Twitter. Both the Twitter pile-ons were more than 10 years ago. Most of the rest are from the last four years. And as usual when this kind of thing happens, I doubt any of the 12000 extra visitors will ever come back.
45 Squared 38) CHELMSFORD SQUARE, NW10
Borough of Brent, 120m×50m
The most interesting square in Brent is White Horse Square, the Orwellian plaza above Wembley Stadium station where electronic billboards relentlessly ask passers-by to snitch on anyone who looks a bit suspicious. I didn't fancy risking that, also one of the other four squares had a name which made me think "oh I totally have to go to that one". So I went to Chelmsford Square. I'd be interested to know if you've ever been to a Square with the same name as the town you went to yesterday.
It lies in the hinterland between Willesden, Brondesbury and Kensal Green, most probably the latter although the Ordnance Survey used to mark it as Brondesbury Park. If you're local I'd be interested to know in which geographical camp you think it falls. It's a 1930s construction, as is screamingly obvious from the half-timbered houses and herringbone brickwork. It's really quiet, this because it's not a cut-through in any way, being safely wedged between the two main streets of All Souls Avenue and Chamberlayne Road. And it's not square, indeed only one of the 38 Squares I've blogged so far has actually had equal sides so that shouldn't come as a surprise. If you know of any good square Squares I'd be interested to know.
Let me try to describe the local street pattern. Imagine Chelmsford Square as an ice lolly but also with a shorter stick poking out the top. Then imagine it's hanging from a washing line inside a wigwam, attached via a small triangular clip. Two equidistant ropes hang below the washing line but they've been cut on both sides of the lolly, each ending in a small circular knot. If you now look at an actualmap I'd be interested to know whether your mental picture in any way matches NW10 reality.
The name Chelmsford Square comes from Viscount Chelmsford who was Viceroy of India from 1916 to 1921. He died in 1933 so would have been up for commemoration around the time the square was built. Two other Viceroys of India are namechecked in adjacent streets, Baron Hardinge and Baron Irwin, while Amery Gardens must be named after Leopold Amery who was Secretary of State for the Colonies in the 1920s. As for Phillimore Gardens I think a colonel of that name retired as India's Surveyor General in 1931 but I'm not sure, and I'd be interested to know what you make of Egerton Gardens and Trevelyan Gardens because their namesakes look to be more Madras-related than India-wide.
There are 20 pairs of semi-detached houses in Chelmsford Square, numbered from 1 to 41 down one side and 2 to 40 down the other. You might think that makes 41 homes rather than 40 but this is because the odd side jumps from 11 to 15, and I'd be interested to know whether any of you live in a street with number 13 missing.
The square's claim to fame locally is that it's where you go to play tennis. Originally there were six courts but now there are just four, the top pair having been removed and replaced by a mound of shrubbery. The courts fit almost perfectly inside the central footprint with just enough room for footpaths up each side, one much narrower than the other. Several signs warn that the courts are to be used "for tennis only" and the gates are firmly secured with a digital lock to make sure you can't get in unless you've paid your £8. All four courts are booked between 10am and 11am this morning, which must be half-term related, but are broadly available after that. Ridiculously the Lawn Tennis Association will even let you book the 6pm-7pm slot tonight, and I'd be interested to know if you've ever booked something without realising you'd be thwarted by the lack of daylight.
I like reading municipal noticeboards, although the board at the south end of the square has been poorly angled so you can only read it if you step into a palm tree. I learned that one of the local councillors is called Mr Hack. I learned that if you have any questions about dog fouling you should ring 020 8937 5619. I learned that the humpy mound is designated as a Quiet Garden which means No Ball Games, No Music and (obviously) No Noisy Activities. I learnt that Brent council strongly advise you wash your hands before and after using the tennis courts because they still haven't taken down their Covid signage. And I learnt that the leaving of litter is prohibited, so when I found a forgotten tennis ball I picked it up and took it home. I'd be interested to know the best freebie you ever found in a public park.
Amongst the other items of minor interest in Chelmsford Square are a small electricity substation, a single tuft of pampas grass, a freestanding basketball hoop, a half-open litter bin, some Michaelmas daisies, several ornamental bay windows, municipal topiary, a freestanding solar panel, a three hour parking restriction, four alleyways and a long hoarding advertising the services of Queens Park Design and Build. Perhaps Chelmsford Square was more interesting than White Horse Square after all, and I'd be interested to know if you've ever visited a non-entity suburban backwater and managed to squeeze a 1000-word blogpost out of it.
A new station opened yesterday on the outskirts of Chelmsford, the first on the Great Eastern Main Line in over 100 years. It's Beaulieu Park, a swish boxy station wedged between the A12 and an expanding housing estate of the same name which it was specifically built to serve. It's bus-friendly, bike-friendly and commuter-friendly, and served by half-hourly trains to London with a doubled-up boost at peak times. All it's missing is somewhere to buy a coffee, a convenient footbridge and anyone living nearby, but these will come. [12 photos]
Beaulieu Park is a 3 platform station, which is clever because generally only two of these are used so fast trains could easily nip through the middle. It's got fairly generic modular architecture because this helps keep costs down, but also an attractive ribbed timber roof because that's a cost-effective means of bringing character. It has a broadconcourse with eight ticket machines but no ticket office, only an intermittently-staffed information desk. It has a lift-enabled footbridge and staircases broad enough to cope with what will one day be the rush for the 0753 to Liverpool Street. I'm particularly delighted it's finished because I've been kicked off onto a rail replacement bus to Billericay far too often over the last couple of years.
The down platform has the best shelter and the up platform the broadest canopy, plus a surprisingly poky waiting room half shuttered-off in readiness for someone opening a coffee kiosk. Toilets are provided on the island platform and just inside the gateline, which is the correct way to design a station. All the most up-to-date signage is installed, including a touchscreen panel which allows you to check live train times and other key information. And if you walk to the far end of the platform a separate footbridge notionally provides an emergency escape route but also offers a decent elevated vantage point, with views not generally available in the flatter parts of Essex.
On Day One you would also have found avid devotees flocking to the new station to film whatitlookslike and to say they'd been. Most contrived to catch the first train out at 7.20, rather fewer were left by mid-morning and by the afternoon it was just lone adolescents and excitable boys whose parents were giving them the best day out. A barista's cart was doing a roaring trade, there being nothing on offer from units labelled Retailers coming soon. The Greater Anglia goodie table was in full effect with free cupcakes for the earliest risers, plus notepads, waterbottles and pens from the corporate cupboards. By the time I arrived I had to make do with two badges and a red polypropylene carrier bag, which I shall add to my stash of unused promotional freebies. The hired saxophonist didn't hang around past noon.
Outside it soon becomes clear that this is an integrated transport hub, with separate zones for cars, bikes and buses. The car park is extensive, as befits a potential park and ride, even if the pay machines aren't yet working (due to a technical issue) so you need to use your phone. There's also a separate overspill car park a good hike away, run by a completely different operator, although both have the same fees. For a short shopping trip to Colchester you might get away with "£5.50 for up to 3 hours" but commuters need to stump up £11.50, effectively increasing the cost of their return journey by 20%. The 'kiss and ride' drop-off point is more convenient but has a time limit of 10 minutes and no return within 20 minutes, so could be chaotic if the trains are late.
For cyclists there are 500 free spaces in the racks, which at present is merely good forward-planning, or you can pay to lock your bike away inside something more secure. It's the bus station that's perhaps the most surprising, a long stand with no fewer than eight bays, five of which are already being used. The local bus company are using Beaulieu Park station as the terminus for three routes which thread round the contorted reaches of the local housing estate, thus can collect and deliver anyone without a car, should any such resident exist. Only buses and bikes are allowed along the new western access road, car drivers have to go the long way via the bypass or the mega-roundabout. Zero points to the designers who assumed pedestrians would take the long route via the zebra crossing and the bike sheds rather than cutting directly across the bus station.
The peculiar thing about Beaulieu Park is that it's been built to serve 14000 new homes, thousands of which are already built, but nobody lives within a five minute walk of the station and barely anyone within ten. One reason for the lack of residential occupancy is that the station sits alongside the A12 and the other side of the road is all trading estates and service stations. It's by no means simple to get across on foot, requiring the unpleasant crossing of a busy and very complex road junction, not all of which is signal controlled. Pedestrians also have to divert via a new overpass some distance from the station, built as the start of a new Chelmsford bypass, because the proposed shortcut footbridge was scrapped by the government to save money. I do not recommend giving it a try.
But the main reason there's no housing by the station is that the adjacent land is the former Great Park of a Tudor mansion, the Palace of Beaulieu. Henry VIII bought it off Anne Boleyn's father in 1516, rebuilt it in brick and brought his court to stay for a month in the summer of 1527. Following a succession of noble owners it was bought by the nuns of the Order of the Holy Sepulchre, whose almost-accessible burial place is England's oldest Catholic cemetery in continuous use. In 1799 they opened a school in the main building which, much enlarged with dormitories and sports pitches, is still operational as a large private school called New Hall. Only the North Wing is original but that's still a damned impressive survivor, unless of course you're trying to build an enormous housing development named after the palace and there's a Grade I listed building and its estate in the way.
New houses will one day form a full horseshoe around the school grounds but thus far only the western side has been built, a thick wedge of modern homes nudged up against the existing suburb of Springfield. Three bedrooms as an absolute minimum and often three storeys tall, these are unashamedly aspirational homes in a pinch-gabled Essex vernacular. Each fresh segment is allocated to a different housing developer so architectural styles vary, but within each area the same few designs repeat (The Abberton, The Grosvenor, The Firecrest), originally bought off-plan from the nice lady in the showhome. Most are packed down curving cul-de-sacs off a distributor road with intermittent greenery and pavements that fade into parking spaces, a residential maze to pick through on the way to hardly any shops. I'd want more than a Sainsbury's Local, a Costa and two takeaways if I'd moved to an enormous estate, but at least the new doctors' surgery finally opens next week.
All the street names make reference to WW1 so we have Remembrance Avenue, Regiment Gate and Centenary Way, while the main retail centre is at Armistice Square. Meanwhile the roads bearing off are all named after fallen soldiers, each of whom gets a potted biography on the street sign. In that annoying modern tradition their full names are used, so it's Stanley Wilks Crescent and Wilfred Waterman Drive rather than just Wilks and Waterman, overtly highlighting the fact that nobody being commemmorated is female. What with poppies in the corner of every street sign it must be like living in a remembrance bubble all year round. The small public park instead goes for a royal theme with wooden chess pieces in the shrubbery, and a belvedere on a mound overlooking a sparse playground that would have been a lot better if they'd spent the proceeds of one more five-bedder on some decent equipment.
The northern fringe is still mostly building sites, plus fields where yet more houses will be squeezed along the line of Chelmsford's new northeast bypass. But even though they'll be less than a mile from the station it's still going to be most tempting to drive there, the allocated cycle and pedestrian route being an unlit narrow lane followed by a path along the edge of the Great Park. A resident of the existing estate stopped me by the station, surprised by how long it had taken her to walk there and disappointed it wouldn't be possible to drive in direct. One day the closest plot will be developed as Beaulieu Central, a commercial quarter with a new hotel, but for now that remains a scrappy waste and Beaulieu Park remains the brand new station nobody quite lives close enough to.
It's also 100 years since the date on which we put the clocks back was switched from the third Saturday in September to the first Saturday in October. That's not how things work any more, indeed the rules for putting clocks forward and back have changed many times over many years. So I thought I'd try to summarise all the changes since British Summer Time was first introduced. It's a complicated tale that thankfully gets simpler as the years go forward. [dates & times][dates][legislation]
As an initial indication of how complicated it is, here's a quick summary of the month in which the clocks changed.
Year
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1916
May
October
1917-1924
March or April
September or October
1925-WW2
April
September
WW2
Double Summer Time
WW2-1960
April
October
1961-1967
March
October
1968-1971
Permanent Summer Time
1972-2025
March
October
We should probably start at the beginning.
1907:William Willett, a builder from Chislehurst, publishes a pamphlet proposing that clocks be advanced in April and put back in September. This would increase evening daylight and reduce expenditure on lighting. 1908: The Daylight Saving Bill is introduced in Parliament. It is voted down by 124 votes to 91. Winston Churchill is in favour. 1916: Germany introduces daylight saving to support the war effort. Three weeks later the UK follows suit, passing the Summer Time Act. ("the prescribed period shall be from two o'clock in the morning Greenwich mean time on Sunday the twenty-first day of May until two o'clock in the morning Greenwich mean time on Sunday the first day of October") 1917-1922: Summer time continues, the dates decided each year by an Order in Council.
Year
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1916
Sunday 21 May
Monday 1 October
1917
Sunday 8 April
Monday 17 September
1918
Sunday 24 March
Monday 30 September
1919
Sunday 30 March
Monday 29 September
1920
Sunday 28 March
Monday 25 October*
1921
Sunday 3 April
Monday 3 October
1922
Sunday 26 March
Sunday 8 October**
* Would have been Monday 27 September but a coal strike delayed it by four weeks
** In 1922 the morning for turning the clocks back switched from Monday to Sunday, and it's been Sunday ever since.
In summer 1922, a new Summer Time Act was passed. This set the start date as "the day next following the third Saturday in April, or, if that day is Easter Day, the day next following the second Saturday in April" and the end date as "the day next following the third Saturday in September". Like so.
Year
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1923
Sunday 22 April
Sunday 16 September
1924
Sunday 13 April*
Sunday 21 September
* Easter Day was 20th April, the third Sunday of the month, so the start of daylight saving was brought forward a week to 13th April.
1922's Summer Time Act was made permanent in 1925 so that Parliament didn't need to renew it each year. The 1925 Act also changed the end date to "the day after the first Saturday in October". This made things a lot simpler.
Years
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1925-1938
the day after the second Saturday in April (unless this is Easter Day* in which case one week earlier)
the day after the first Saturday in October
* This happened in 1924, 1927, 1930, 1933, 1935 and 1938.
In 1939 war against Germany triggered another change, this time to make best use of daylight and reduce the length of the evening blackout.
The Defence (Summer Time) Regulations... i) delayed the end of Summer Time in 1939 by seven weeks ii) introduced permanent Summer Time in 1940 iii) introduced Double Summer Time from 1941 onwards.
Clocks did not go back in autumn 1940 but did go forward in spring 1941, putting the country on GMT+2 for the first time. GMT was not observed between February 1940 and October 1945, Britain was either on Summer Time or Double Summer Time.
Year
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1939
Sunday 16 April
GMT+1
Sunday 19 November*
1940
Sunday 25 February
GMT+1
-
1941
Sunday 4 May
GMT+2
Monday 10 August
1942
Sunday 5 April
GMT+2
Monday 9 August
1943
Sunday 4 April
GMT+2
Monday 15 August
1944
Sunday 2 April
GMT+2
Monday 17 September
* The latest date the clocks have ever gone back
Extricating ourselves from Double Summer Time proved complicated. In 1945 the clocks had to go back twice, once in July and once in October. Double Summer Time was then reintroduced as an emergency measure in 1947 because of severe fuel shortages resulting from the harsh winter. 1947 is the only year the clocks changed four times.
Year
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1945
Monday 2 April*
GMT+2
Sunday 15 July AND Sunday 7 October
1946
Sunday 14 April
GMT+1
Sunday 6 October
1947
Sunday 16 March AND Sunday 13 April
GMT+2
Sunday 10 August AND Sunday 2 November
1948
Sunday 14 March
GMT+1
Sunday 31 October
1949
Sunday 3 April
GMT+1
Sunday 30 October
* The only time the clocks have ever gone forward on a Monday
In the 1950s there was no longer a need to extend summer time to support industry and fuel companies. The dates thus reverted to those introduced in 1925 - partially in 1950 and fully in 1953.
Years
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1950-1952
the day after the second Saturday in April (unless this is Easter Day* in which case one week earlier)
the day after the third Saturday in October
1953-1960
the day after the first Saturday in October
* This happened in 1951, 1954, 1957 and 1960**.
** 1960 was the last year the clocks went forward in April.
In 1960 the government consulted 178 organisations as part of an inquiry into the future of Summer Time. A slight majority preferred keeping Summer Time all year round but this was not adopted. Instead the statutory period of Summer Time wasextended by three weeks in both spring and autumn (then in 1964 extended again by a week in the spring).
Years
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1961-1963
the last Sunday in March
the day after the third Saturday in October
1964-1967
the day after the fourth Saturday in March
After a further inquiry in 1967 the new Labour government decided to introduce British Standard Time, a three year trial in which Britain would remain on GMT+1 throughout the year. The clocks did not go back at the end of October 1968, thus effectively adopting Central European Time. In December 1970 the new Conservative government held a debate on the continuation of British Standard Time. MPs decided to end the experiment by a vote of 366 to 81.
Year
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1968
Sunday 18 February
GMT+1
-
1969
-
GMT+1
-
1970
-
GMT+1
-
1971
-
GMT+1
Sunday 31 October
After the experiment everything returned to the previous pattern for the rest of the decade. Then in 1980 the European Union introduced their first harmonisation directive. This...
i) mandated a common start date across the EU (the last Sunday in March) ii) permitted the UK & Ireland a separate finish date to the rest of the EU (who changed at the end of September) iii) harmonised the time the clocks changed (now 1am GMT, not 2am GMT)
Years
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1972-1980
the day after the fourth Saturday in March (at 2am GMT)
the last Sunday in October (at 2am GMT)
1981-1995
the last Sunday in March (at 1am GMT)
the last Sunday in October (at 1am GMT)
In 1994 the EU's seventh directive on summer-time arrangements fixed a common end date across the EU from 1995 onwards. In the opposite of what you might expect, they forced all the other EU countries to adopt the same end date as the UK, i.e. the last Sunday in October. To ease in the new arrangements, 1995's date was brought ahead by a week as a one-off.
Years
Clocks forward
Clocks back
1995
the last Sunday in March
Sunday 22 October
1996-2025
the last Sunday in March
the last Sunday in October
And so it is that for the last 30 years our clocks have gone forward on the last Sunday in March and back on the last Sunday in October, no faff, no twiddles.
Since we left the EU in 2020 it's been possible for Britain to make its own decisions on summer time but nobody's dared risk it. Any changes would lead to time zone differences on the island of Ireland, plus it's always been a hugelydivisiveissue with no solutions that suit everyone so the status quo looks likely to continue. You may not like how and when we put the clocks forward and back, but at least "the last Sunday of the month" keeps it simple.
Sometimes you just want to go for a nice walk, nothing too taxing, lots of heritage, hugely contrasting, multiple stately homes, leafy slopes, renowned architecture, refreshment opportunities, occasional squirrels, fully bookleted, a bit of a stroll, won't take long. So here's a choice of five in Roehampton, nowhere near enough to make a day of it but nice walks all the same.
The 48-page booklet is called Roehampton Walks and has recently been compiled by Wandsworth council. It offers five one-mile walks around the suburb, each with several stops, photographs and background detail. It's beautifully designed with lovely graphics, and printed on decent glossy paper of the kind cash-strapped boroughs no longer normally spend. You can download a pdf and use that to work your way round, but I'm pleased to report they (finally) have free copies in RoehamptonLibrary so I grabbed one of those instead. By themselves the five walks are all ridiculously short, with absolutely no suggestion in the booklet that you join some of them together, but I did the sensible thing and linked three. If you like heritage variety I can recommend.
Nice Walk 2: Roehampton Lane North (1 mile)
I skipped walk 1 because it's short and only has two stops, but if you've always wondered where addled celebs go when they check into The Priory then give it a go. I preferred walk two because it starts near Barnes station and has a bit more depth. It kicks off at the top of Roehampton Lane with Wandsworth's only thatched building (although if it were on the other side of the road it would be in Richmond). Behind it is the Roehampton Club, a 100 acre sports hub with its origins in polo, but that's private so crossing the threshold is for members only. Amongst the private flats down the road is Fairacres, a long crescent block with appealing brick curves that scream 1930s, and correctly so.
Much of the west side of the road is occupied by the University of Roehampton, a group of former teacher-training colleges now high in various academic rankings, and dubiously accessible. Its parkland campus looks appealing but the signs on the gates send mixed messages about access, welcoming sensible dog walkers while also telling visitors where to sign in. I was only persuaded it was OK to go in when the walking route bore off at the estate's former gatehouse, leading to a wooded path and ooh, a mausolueum hidden in the trees. At the end of the lane I discovered a large Georgian mansion and behind that a rose garden and extensive landscaped grounds with a scenic lake. It still felt almost like trespassing with all the students milling round, but thanks Walk Two, your finale very much delivered.
Nice Walk 3: Central Roehampton (1 mile)
There's one more big old house to walk past, once occupied by the Marchioness of Devonshire and now anonymous study space for the university. Things then pick up considerably, at least for fans of 1950s architecture, when a path alongside the Roehampton Family Hub leads to the Alton Estate. This renowned LCC overspill mixed Brutalist blocks, Scandi lowrise and sloping grassland to accommodate 13,000 residents across two distinct phases - Alton East and Alton West. The walk enters by the slab blocks and then proceeds too quickly to the bronze bull by the bus terminus. I deviated instead along the ridge to better admire the concrete stilts and broader le Corbusian vision across a strikingly autumnal panorama, before nipping down as directed to the shops.
Classic postwar housing doesn't have to be highrise. The staggered bungalows in Minstead Gardens are alluringly attractive, especially in full sunlight, with cute cylindrical chimneys atop an admittedly flaking flat roof. I'm not sure the residents approve of outsider interest however as a pensioner walked over after I'd gone and pointed me out to a neighbour hanging out his washing, no doubt assuming my attempts at photography could only be bad news. I was actually trying to line up another classical mansion in the background, this time Mount Clare, once home to the Admiral of the Fleet, the Governor of the Bank of England and the discoverer of niobium. Another indication of the estate's great age is the Maryfield Convent, home to the Poor Servants of the Mother of God, where this walk abruptly terminates.
The booklet also includes details of seven independent shops you might want to frequent while on the walks. Each plug fills a page with a photo of the owners, a location map and a charming bio interspersed with bland filler. If you're the bod who wrote "With a focus on community well-being, East Chemist continues to be a go-to destination for professional, friendly and accessible healthcare" you really lowered the tone. The blurb about chippie The Right Plaice is the least motivating, but having walked round the back while switching from Walk 3 to Walk 4 I sniffed the Friday fry and can heartily recommend.
Nice Walk 4: Roehampton Lane South (1 mile)
The final mansion is a Palladian villa called Parkstead House, built for the 2nd Earl of Bessborough by the same architect who designed Somerset House. Again it's now part of the University of Roehampton and dubiously accessible so this time I didn't risk following students through the gates. To exit the modern estate you pass the shopping parade on Danebury Avenue which is destined to be demolished under plans literally just agreed in an estate-wide residents ballot. The masterplan is expertly described across the walls of the former Co-op, which is destined to become a new community hub, followed by 13 denser blocks on the footprints of existing flats. It means more housing in better quality accommodation, but also an anodyne architectural insert diminishing the original cohesive vision.
By crossing the main road the walk enters entirely contrasting territory, a characterful narrow high street with two ancient pubs. The King's Head is fundamentally Tudor, and I take issue with their chalkboard which asks Is It Ever Too Early To Think About Christmas? The retail selection here is a notch upmarket - definitely no betting shop or Greggs - with intermittent weatherboarding and yet another convent. If you've only ever seen Roehampton from a bus you won't have been up here, for reasons clarified by the two delivery lorries I watched struggling to get out. A similar hazard is the village's Italianate drinking fountain which, along with two former horse troughs, now forms a floral but obstructive traffic island.
Roehampton boasts one of the borough's oldest secular buildings which is Lloyds Local Convenience Store. It started out as a quaint cottage in the 17th century, morphed later into a beer shop and then a tiny pub, but served its last pint in 2006 and is now more snacks and vapes. Few buildings jar as much as the former Montague Arms. To end the walk head past the Shell Garage to the parish church, built only when the local population passed critical religious mass. The door was open but I didn't dare peer in after I spotted a driver in mourning dress parked outside. You could at this point download Wandsworth's Looky Rooky app and track down 35 stickers across the neighbourhood, or continue to Walk 5 across Putney Heath which if you're past school age I'm sure would be more satisfying. It's a quality resource this, and five nice walks to boot.
What's on the shield? Barking and Dagenham: two keys on a sword; two croziers on a lily; well smack in full sail; cogwheel Barnet: paschal lamb carrying cross standard; two roses; Saxon crown Bexley: wavy stripes; oak tree, cogwheel Brent: cross-topped orb; two swords; two seaxes Bromley: cinquefoil; 15 acorns Camden: mitre; three shells City of London: sword Croydon: cross flory; two swords; two keys Ealing: three Saxon crowns; oak tree on grassy mount Enfield: enfield; wavy bars Greenwich: cannon barrel; lion's face; two hour glasses; two stars Hackney: Maltese cross; two oak trees; three bells Hammersmith and Fulham: two hammers on a horseshoe; two swords on a mitre Haringey: eight lightning rays Harrow: flaming torch; organ stop; quill pen; wooded mount Havering: ruby ring Hillingdon: four wreaths; eagle clutching fleur-de-lis and cogwheel Hounslow: two wings; sword; wavy lines; rampant lion Islington: two ringlets; crescent; open book on Maltese cross Kensington and Chelsea: three crowns; mitre Kingston upon Thames: three salmon Lambeth: cross; two stars; mitre on crozier; 15 gold roundels Lewisham: two crowned lions; sailing ship Merton: eagle; two keys on a sword; lion; Harrington knot Newham: sailing ship; crozier; two hammers Redbridge: four leopards' faces; three martlets; oak tree with acorns Richmond upon Thames: chained portcullis; eight fleurs-de-Lys Southwark: sailing ship; red rose; four cinquefoils; wellhead Sutton: two keys on two discs; two oak sprigs; biplane aeroplane in flight; rising Sun Tower Hamlets: fire tongs; mulberry sprig; weaver's shuttle; sailing boat Waltham Forest: three oak trees; crown; stag's head Wandsworth: teardrops Westminster: two roses; five martlets; cross flory; two wolves' heads; Madonna and child
22 objects in borough crests
Curfew tower of Barking Abbey, two-bladed airscrew, white horse of Kent, elephant, beech leaves, anchor, St Augustine's churchtower, Viking ship, cogwheel, domed gateway with bull's head, talbot with posthorn, water-bougets, broom, half a wheatsheaf, two dolphins, sprigs of lavender, chough, swan with a mouthful of roses, popinjay, the White Tower, dragonheaded boat, portcullis
32 mottos Service: To serve the people, We serve, We serve, We govern by serving, Through difficulties serve God in faith, United to serve, Unity accomplishes service Unity: What a good thing it is to dwell together in unity, Fellowship is life, Not for self but for all Progress: Progress with unity, In unity progress, Forward, Forward together, Progress with humanity, Let us go forward together, Progress with the people Judgement: By the grace of God let us be judged by our deeds, Justice is our tower, Let us be judged by our actions, Let us be regarded according to our conduct Strength: Boldly and rightly, By industry ever stronger, Stand fast in honour and strength Welfare: The wellbeing of the people is the highest law, The welfare of the people is the most important consideration Piety: Lord guide us, From God and the King, O Lord watch over the city Aspiration: Let us strive for perfection, From great things to greater Freedom: Liberty motto-less: Kingston-upon-Thames
45 Squared 37) CLEAVER SQUARE, SE11
Borough of Lambeth, 110m×40m
London's first garden squares date back to the 17th century but it took until 1789 before the first appeared south of the river. It all kicked off when Mary Cleaver sold her field alongside the Clapham turnpike to the landlord of the Horns Tavern, who then laid out and developed the square one side at a time. The meadow had been called White Bear Field, hence The White Bear pub just round the corner which is of a similar vintage. The new development was named after two houses called Princes Place, between which lay the access point off Kennington Park Road, hence it became Princes Square. Only in 1937 was the name changed to Cleaver Square to reflect the original owner of the land. Thus we now find an oblong square within the Kennington Triangle not far from The Oval.
As squares go it's really nice, as befits a rim of Georgian terraces surrounding a central garden. I say garden but it's more a very large area of tarmac flanked by plane trees, ideal if you ever need a location for a multi-player boules tournament. The central space was originally used for grazing (17th century), then a formal garden with an outer path (18th century), then a nursery with greenhouses (19th century). Plans build to rows of garages (20th century) were thwarted by taking the plot into council control, although it soon ended up somewhat unloved and only following a lottery grant was it prettified and benched (almost 21st century). I imagine it's fairly featureless in winter, but the current carpet of orange leaves makes taking a seat well worthwhile.
A majority of the 60 houses are listed, as befits smart brick terraces with sash windows, mansard roofs and elegant arched fanlights. These are doors you could hang a wreath on and conjure up a Christmas card, as indeed I did one year. There are also just enough doors that there's always one opening or closing somewhere, like a middle class farce, although a lot of this turns out to be builders and plasterers refitting a kitchen or scoping out a basement. Watch for long enough and a mummy will emerge with a carseat while a natty couple unload groceries from the boot of their custard yellow jeep. Parking spaces have been at a premium ever since that catastrophic garages decision in 1927.
There are only two non-residential intrusions. One is the City & Guilds of London Art School which is housed in purpose-built Victorian studios and 1930s warehouse space facing Kennington Park Road. The student entrance is however up Cleaver Square, the connecting road now only passable by bike, where you may find blokes in berets vaping outside a modern atrium behind a snazzy black gate. The other non-house is The Prince of Wales, part of the same independent pub chain as the Mayflower in Rotherhithe, which has graced a corner plot since 1901. Outside it's all hanging baskets and prized tables, while inside has a provincial vibe with pouting portraits flouncing across every wall. I don't know if the landlord always angles the swiper downwards so you can't see how much you're paying but no way was the cider worth that much.
After some of the drab flatpack squares I've been to in this series it's a pleasure to visit one with a proper history and a splash of class. It's so sophisticated an award-winning author has even written a novel about it - Last Days in Cleaver Square - in which a retired poet is haunted by the ghost of a Spanish dictator. That's not the book that won the award, obviously. Best of all the square boasts a former Prime Minister amongst its former residents, and maybe not one you'd expect. It is in fact John Major who bought a house here a couple of months after losing the 1997 General Election, not just because it's peak Kennington but mainly because it's less than ten minutes walk from The Oval. He's no longer here, he majors in his big house in Huntingdon, but Cleaver Square still definitely cuts it.
