C is for Cranford For my third alphabetical visit to unsung suburbs we're off to Cranford, once described as "one of the smallest and prettiest villages in Middlesex" and today absolutely none of those things. It lies on the River Crane, fairly obviously, and straddles the boroughs of Hillingdon and Hounslow (though mostly the latter). What tarnished Cranford was mass transit, first a main road, then a bypass, then a motorway, then the expansive environs of Heathrow which encroach just across the river. A few treasures remain but you do have to look quite hard, and best bring boots because it's muddy out there.[14 photos]
Cranford started out as a few cottages near a crossing over the River Crane. The main road west from London passed this way, a couple of miles beyond the important coaching hub of Hounslow, becoming safer and more strategically important after being turnpiked in 1717. The bridge here needed rebuilding in 1776, then was widened and strengthened in 1915 to cope with a greater volume of traffic. The stone parapet displays the arms of the county of Middlesex, who were dead proud of it, and also marked the dividing line between the parishes of Cranford and Bedfont. These days the Bath Road carries so many vehicles that unbroken barriers have been built down the central reservation, so impenetrable that it took me five minutes to cross from one side of the bridge to the other. The A4 essentially divides Cranford in two with pedestrians very much an afterthought, although there is a subway with authentic prewar signage if you walk as far as the roundabout.
If you've ever driven through Cranford you'll know it as the place with the turrets. Most of the rest of the main street is drab but in the middle of Berkeley Parade is an extraordinary cluster of fairytale towers surrounding the central crossroads. They have crow-stepped gables and pointy tops in Scottish Baronial style and were added to the shopping mix by E B Musman in 1930. At the foot of the towers are gorgeous wooden doors leading to twin flats above, although like much of the parade they look like they've seen better days. A busy carwash blocks the best view to the south but this just adds to the overall idiosyncrasy. Alas the northeast turrets were demolished in the 1960s to be replaced by anodyne flats whereas the northwest pair have been more elegantly absorbed into a hotel. It's notionally a 4-star Hilton but its signs were taken down recently because sssh, the clientele are now mostly migrants.
The rest of the main road is a mix of local services and airport filler, including boxy budget hotels for those whose flight plans require an overnight stay. The Moxy looks tackier than the Ibis, though it's a close call. Heathrow-edge development has been inexorable here with what used to be the White Hart now a drive-in KFC and the village pond the site of a chunky office block that now hands out degrees from the University of Derby. Bullish optimism can be the only reason behind naming a business Sublime Solicitors, ditto the nextdoor Jolly Cafe. Meanwhile the old flatroofed Cranford Library has just been closed so that a sparse collection of books can be shifted down the road into what the council describes as a Community Hub. Activities provided include money management advice, Storytime and 'all ages mindful colouring' (but it's closed on Wednesdays, so don't all rush).
Thankfully there is an older heart to suburban Cranford, a lengthy High Street which wiggles off the Bath Road opposite Tesco Express. It includes a few Edwardian cottages at the southern end and further up a converted stable block beside a proper listed Victorian villa with stone dogs guarding the door (alas extremely well hidden by shrubbery). But the real treat is a cylindrical brick hut dating back to pre-police days in 1838 which is one of only two parish lock-ups remaining in London. Drunks and thieves would have been confined overnight in dark cramped conditions before being turned over to a magistrate, highway robbery being a particular issue in the locality. The lock-up cuts a strange sight on the verge outside a block of flats, and could perhaps be mistaken for a bin store were it not for the information board placed out front when it was renovated in 2017. Full marks to Hounslow and the Heritage of London Trust.
Far less impressive is the church of Holy Angels, a geometric redbrick building built in 1970 to replace a previous church twice destroyed by arson. It was still in use as a place of worship until fairly recently but you can plainly see damp patches and peeling strips on the exterior, also metal panels securely affixed where all the windows and doors have been sealed up. The parish website confesses "As a result of bad design and sub standard construction at the time of building, Holy Angels is now closed. We await the outcome of discussions concerning the building", thus the congregation now has to troop off to another church we'll get to later. The Catholic church nextdoor is also oddly polygonal but thankfully had a different architect so remains in one piece, if locked away to restrict regular access.
The second road to despoil rural Cranford was The Parkway, a dual carriageway added in 1959 to bypass Cranford, Hayes and Yeading. Alas it sliced straight through the top of the High Street taking out a couple of big villas, and today the old road abruptly meets a seething airport feeder where pedestrians have a choice between several pushbuttons or a ridiculously long footbridge. On the far side is Cranford's only pub, The Queen's Head, which claims to be "the first pub in England to be granted a Spirits Licence" although the current building's a very '30s rebuild. Across the road The Jolly Gardeners initially looks like it might still serve pints but no, it closed 15 years ago and has morphed into a shabby home that still advertises hot food and Taylor Walker cask ales in increasingly decrepit gold lettering.
Cranford has a second historic nucleus to the northwest but to get there you need to cross the River Crane and there are no good options. To the north of Cranford Bridge is an older arched bridge used by drivers as a cut-through to Harlington, but much too narrow to be safely used by pedestrians. The London Loop prefers to cross Berkeley Meadows and then hug the river through Cranford Park, where I stared at the quagmire by the entrance gate and decided against. More direct is Avenue Park, essentially a cluster of playgrounds leading to a vast sodden meadow, which has a single footbridge at the very far end but is sadly devoid of any tarmacked means of getting there. The only all-weather route is a lengthy walk alongside the thunderous Parkway to a turnoff by a motorway junction, or of course to drive, which is likely how most parishioners get to church these days.
Cranford Park was once the site of two medieval manors controlled by the Knights Templar and Hospitaller, one moated and the other taking advantage of raised land beside the River Crane. In 1618 the combined estate was bought by a courtier of James I and later passed into the hands of the Earls of Berkeley who used it as their summer seat. Alas in 1944 their vacated manor house was demolished along with half the stable block, although the east wing of equine stalls survives and looks unexpectedly magnificent as well as magnificently unexpected. If you visit only one building in Cranford this is the one you should see. Also intact is London's oldest ha-ha - an unobtrusive boundary ditch visible from only one side - although several bricks on the corner have recently been dislodged so if anyone reading this works for Hillingdon council you might want to get that sorted. A visitor centre used to sit atop the old cellars but that burned down and construction of its replacement appears to have stalled, indeed its windows are already smashed, so you'll need to bring your own refreshments.
Immediately adjacent is St Dunstan's Church, Saxon in origin and medieval at heart. These days it's very much High Anglican so all Masses and Benedictions rather than Communions and chumminess, and likely smells it too. The churchyard is full of old graves and surrounded by memorial tablets packed onto the perimeter wall. At the far end facing sideways is the memorial to much-loved comic Tony Hancock whose ashes were scattered here, but marginally outside the burial ground because his death was a suicide. It jolts somewhat to see he predeceased his mother. And less than 100m away is the third road to sever Cranford which is the M4 motorway which was squeezed through a narrow gap between church and council estate in the early 1960s. Junction 3 was carved out of Crane-side woodland to link with The Parkway, diverting the river and allowing parishioner access through St Dunstan's Subway. Look one way and you could still be on a country estate, look the other and convoys of articulated lorries are rumbling towards Slough. Poor Cranford... and there's one more blight to come.
Houses in south Cranford have the misfortune to be directly on the Heathrow flightpath and less than a mile from the end of the northern runway. I was fortunate on my visit that planes were taking off from the southern runway so any noise pollution was merely a semi-intrusive whine. But the pattern alternates delivering a regular stream of decelerating jet engines roaring low over the houses in Waye Avenue, either before or after 3pm, ensuring there are few less appealing streets to live anywhere in the capital. Residents foresaw this problem in 1952 and got a civil servant to agree that planes would never take off over Cranford, only land, except in times of exceptional need. The so-called Cranford Agreement was never legally ratified but has held sway ever since, even though the Coalition government decided they'd like to end it. Plans for a third runway have since muddied the waters and more crucially the airport's not yet built sufficient taxiways to enable mass eastbound take-offs from the northern runway. But one day the gentlemen's agreement will fail and Cranford will be crisscrossed not just by two dual carriageways and a motorway but also a horrendous flighpath... so if you're visiting, come before then.
