LONDON A-Z An alphabetical journey through the capital's museums Kew Bridge Steam Museum
Location: Green Dragon Lane, Brentford, TW8 0EN [map] Open: 11am-4pm (closed Mondays) Admission: £9.50 Brief summary: steam, water and grease Website:www.kbsm.org Time to set aside: at least half a day
Every now and then my alphabetical journey throws up a museum I can't believe I haven't been to before. This is one of those. Formerly one of London's most important pumping stations, the Kew Bridge Steam Museum is now a hybridhotchpotch of industrial heritage, machine room and engine shed. It's located by the Thames between Brentford and Chiswick, beneath a giant standpipetower visible for miles around. And hidden within are some absolutely whacking great steam engines. The Industrial Revolution wasn't powered by electricity, oh no, it was much harder work than that.
Quick bit of historical background. The Grand Junction Waterworks Company was formed 200 years ago to supply London with canal-sourced drinking water. This proved somewhat unhygienic so they soon switched their sights to the Thames, constructing a waterworks in Chelsea near the mouth of the Westbourne sewer. Not much better, obviously, so in 1838 they upped sticks to Kew Bridge and piped in cleaner water from midstream. When the building was decommissioned after WW2 the old engines were preserved in case anybody ever raised enough money to turn them into a museum. And they did, so they are.
The museum smells of grease and old rags, which is perhaps not surprising because they're what keep the place together. Every now and then a boiler-suitedvolunteer will scuttle in through one door and out through another, maybe to give some flange somewhere a good oil, or maybe for a well-deserved cup of tea. If you're lucky he's here to fire up one of the engines, so be patient, it could take a while to build up sufficient head of steam. Listen carefully to his enthusiastic commentary and you might learn a fair amount about rotative motion, crankshafts and piston rods. And the threeoldmachines in the central Steam Hall may look large and impressive, but they're some of the smaller beasts that run on site.
Nextdoor are three muchbigger machines, sufficiently tall that you can climb various sets of stairs to view them at beam, cylinder or engine level. On the day of my visit only the Boulton & Wattengine, an 1820 survivor transplanted from Chelsea, was being demonstrated. While one volunteer gave us a rundown of the museum's history, his colleague flipped various levers with rhythmicprecision until the mechanism ran steadily without human intervention. Above our heads a 15 ton beam rose, tripped and fell, forcing several gallons of water into a pondlike sump below. Such majestic power once helped to keep parts of London's water supply cholera-free.
Along another corridor, crammed within a pair of narrow yet lofty brick chambers, stand the museum's CornishEngines. One of these is the world's largest surviving single cylinder beam engine, and the other is the largest working beam engine in the world. Not bad for suburban Brentford. Again there's up-close access on three floors (but this time climbing to the top deck alongside the twin beams gave me an unexpected attack of vertigo). They're both monstrous and magnificent, even when stationary, with pipes and cylinders agleam. Add in venting steam and thrusting rods, on the rare occasions the 90 inch engine is actually fired up, and the experience is one to remember.
Follow the right path downstairs in this maze of a building and you'll find the Water For Life Gallery - a relatively modern display which details the history of water supply and usage in London. Not the sort of attraction you'd normally travel miles to see, and not quite the "fascinating story" the museum's literature promises, but interesting enough if you've ever wondered why the stuff that gushes out of your household tap doesn't kill you. I liked the lengthy wall collage comprising a century of domestic appliances, from hip bath via washing machine to foot spa. There were also special interactive bits for kids, including a robot sewercam and a twirly filtration jar, although nothing that could complete with the steaming whirring engines elsewhere.
And there's more. A 400 yard steam railway operates around the edge of the site (the only fully operational steam railway in London) and visitors can hop on the back for a lightchug through the backyard. I was hoping for a ride on the last train before lunch, but the rear carriages were 90% full of excited families who didn't look like they'd appreciate an obvious non-Dad squeezing in. Instead I made do looking at a stationary waterwheel, and nosing into some deserted workshops, and listening to the history of the standpipe tower via an old telephone.
Time your visit carefully. Not all of the old engines are in steam every day, indeed many are open on special occasions only. Weekdays tend to be quiet, and Sundays tend to have more going on than Saturdays. The last weekend of the month is usually the best time to visit, although watch out for various extra events at other times (model railway shows, wartime reconstructions, Meccano rallies, that sort of thing).
And keep your ticket. Entrance may be fairly pricey but admission lasts for twelve months, so if one particular engine's not running you can come back on another day when it is. Who knows, you might even decide you like the place so much that you sign up as a volunteer, and then you can come back and get your hands greasy whenever you like. I won't be going quite that far, but I'll certainly be giving my ticket another outing. by train: Kew Bridgeby tube: Gunnersburyby bus: 65, 237, 267, 391
London Open House (catchup): There are 700 potential buildings to visit on Open House weekend, so even when you think you've visited a lot you've barely scratched the surface. I managed 13 altogether, spread out across the capital. Here's a rundown of those I've failed to mention thus far.
Barnardo's Village: When I was little, and every penny counted, I used to have a Dr Barnardo's collecting box in the shape of a cottage. It was given to me by a nice old lady who lived up the road, and every year she'd invite all the box-owning boys and girls in the village to a big party in her back garden. I always felt slightly guilty attending because I knew how few pennies were inside my box, and that my share of the sandwiches and squash on the table beneath the tulip tree had probably cost considerably more. Yesterday I went along to Barnardo's HQ in Barkingside, out on the loopy bit of the Central line, and discovered that these cottages are based on real life buildings that played a major part in the charity's work. More to the point, my old collecting box is rare enough that it would now be worth more empty that it ever was full. If only I'd have known, I could have eaten those sausage rolls and jelly with a clear conscience.
Dr Barnardo's initial work with ragged children had concentrated solely on boys, but a wedding gift of Essex land in 1873 allowed him to establish a home for girls as well. He created a Girls' Village of 14 cottages set around a rural green, each housing about 20 girls looked after by a supervisor called 'Mother'. Girls were trained in washing, cleaning and embroidery, all the sorts of skills that might get them a job as a household servant when they were older. The village grew with the addition of further cottages around a second green, until more than 1300 girls were being housed, fed and educated on site. It took until the 1930s for boys to be admitted, ending the practice of splitting brothers and sisters on separate sites. It wasn't until the 60s that institutional care was frowned upon and the village emptied of residents. One of the greens was developed as a (criminally hideous) residential school for disabled children, and another area sold off to the council (now, perhaps unsurprisingly, home to a Tesco supermarket).
The Barnardo village in Barkingside isn't usually accessible to the public, but for Open House we were shown an Ever Open Door. One cottage has been restored as a heritage exhibit, with charity memorabilia and a reproduction of the good doctor's office inside. There was also access to the Children's Church, normal-sized on the outside but with child-height pews on the inside. "Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not" reads the inscription on the arch over the chancel, and this might well have been Dr B's motto. I doubt there'd have been volunteers selling squash and biscuits at the back in his day, let alone Christmas cards, pens and mugs. I followed a most informative tour round the perimeter of the green, viewing the modern housing association infill and trying to block out views of the 60s monstrosity office block in the old apple orchard. And we ended up beneath the clock tower at the bronze memorial marking the spot where Barnardo's ashes were scattered in 1905. His heart will be forever here on the edge of the London suburbs, amongst his girls, and deserving of our thanks.
plus... » Bevis Marks Synagogue: Another Sunday, another synagogue. I'm getting the hang of covering my head now, but the skull cap they provided kept trying to slide off so I had to hold myself upright to avoid unintentional offence. Considerably more photogenic than Nelson Street which I visited last week, but conspicuously unwilling to allow photographs. [exterior photo] » Christ Church Spitalfields: Hawksmoor's triumphant Baroque box, permitted to fall derelict but recently restored to former glories and reopened in 2004. The congregation's on the evangelical side, and they were just clearing off when I arrived on Sunday which may explain the two toddlers whizzing round the nave on scooters. But what a place in which to worship. [interior photo] » Kirkaldy Testing Museum: The centrepiece of the museum is a Victorian curiosity - a 47ft long metal device for testing the stresses and strains of metals. It works on hydraulics, and so attracts (extremely keen) enthusiasts of a mechanical bent who like wearing overalls and getting greasy. The museum's small but rammed, and opens on the first Sunday of every month. Ian can tell you more. » The Linnean Society: Serious natural historians, tucked away in a side wing near the Royal Academy, as they have been for centuries. Darwin first announced his theories of natural selection at a meeting of the Society in 1858. And they have a lovelylibrary. » Old Turkish Baths: Looks like a mini minaretted temple on the outside, accidentally discarded between two office blocks near Bishopsgate. Enter inside, down the steps, and it's a pizza restaurant. A damned ornate fame-obsessed pizzeria, but a pizzeria all the same. [exterior][interior] » Blue Fin Building: Yet another new office block, home to IPC Media, in the shadow of Tate Modern on Southwark Street. "Sorry, we're closed." Damn. [exterior photo] » Greenwich Yacht Club: No, completely missed this one. How the hell am I supposed to get (promptly) from the East End to the North Greenwich Peninsula when the Jubilee line's shut, the East London line's shut and the only bus under the Thames refuses to pick me up because it's full. Damned frustrating. Yeah, should have gone by boat.
» Sir John Soane's Museum: Candlelit evening opening (first Tuesday) (WC2) » First Thursdays: After hours opening at East London's galleries and museums (E1-ish) » Lates: Central London culture, every first Friday evening. (WC1-ish)
There are many museums and attractions in and around London. Too many, in fact, for them all to receive a decent number of visitors every day. So some are only open occasionally. I'm trying to knock together a calendar of attractions that only open once a month. Can you help?
You're spoilt for choice this weekend. The majority of these monthly museums open on the first Saturday or first Sunday of the month. The second ****day of the month is less popular, and beyond that one-off openings are almost non-existent. Nobody thinks about "third Saturdays" or "fourth Sundays", so attractions tend not to open on these highly forgettable dates.
But I reckon I've missed quite a few once-a-months off my list. Please, if you know any more, let me know. [permalink]
Please note: » Museums and attractions only, not events. So, for example, I can't accept the Critical Mass bike ride (last Friday of the month), and I can't accept monthly club nights, or monthly meetings, or monthly walks, etc. » Regular events only. So I can't accept City Hall being open on the first weekend of the month, because it isn't always (but it is this month). » I am willing to accept places that occasionally open on other days, so long as there's a definite main once-a-month opening. » And I'll accept attractions just outside London, sort of inner Home Counties, but no further. No Brighton, no Birmingham, no Belfast. » There must be a few weekday once-offs, surely? Any Second Tuesdays or Fourth Fridays? » You might find some ideas here. I bet these searchengines won't be much help. Or you might just know of somewhere anyway. » Be patient and I'll start adding your suggestions this evening. Come on, because if we miss that one-off opening, it's a long wait until the next.
What's on this weekend? A.V. Roe Centenary Sunday 12 July, 2pm
A replica triplane celebrates one hundred years since Britain's first ever flight on Walthamstow Marshes.
Every now and then my alphabetical journey throws up a museum I can't believe I haven't been to before. This is one of those. Formerly one of London's most important pumping stations, the Kew Bridge Steam Museum is now a hybrid hotchpotch of industrial heritage, machine room and engine shed. It's located by the Thames between Brentford and Chiswick, beneath a giant standpipe tower visible for miles around. And hidden within are some absolutely whacking great steam engines. The Industrial Revolution wasn't powered by electricity, oh no, it was much harder work than that.
The museum smells of grease and old rags, which is perhaps not surprising because they're what keep the place together. Every now and then a boiler-suited volunteer will scuttle in through one door and out through another, maybe to give some flange somewhere a good oil, or maybe for a well-deserved cup of tea. If you're lucky he's here to fire up one of the engines, so be patient, it could take a while to build up sufficient head of steam. Listen carefully to his enthusiastic commentary and you might learn a fair amount about rotative motion, crankshafts and piston rods. And the three old machines in the central Steam Hall may look large and impressive, but they're some of the smaller beasts that run on site.
Along another corridor, crammed within a pair of narrow yet lofty brick chambers, stand the museum's Cornish Engines. One of these is the world's largest surviving single cylinder beam engine, and the other is the largest working beam engine in the world. Not bad for suburban Brentford. Again there's up-close access on three floors (but this time climbing to the top deck alongside the twin beams gave me an unexpected attack of vertigo). They're both monstrous and magnificent, even when stationary, with pipes and cylinders agleam. Add in venting steam and thrusting rods, on the rare occasions the 90 inch engine is actually fired up, and the experience is one to remember.
And there's more. A 400 yard steam railway operates around the edge of the site (the only fully operational steam railway in London) and visitors can hop on the back for a light chug through the backyard. I was hoping for a ride on the last train before lunch, but the rear carriages were 90% full of excited families who didn't look like they'd appreciate an obvious non-Dad squeezing in. Instead I made do looking at a stationary waterwheel, and nosing into some deserted workshops, and listening to the history of the standpipe tower via an old telephone.
Barnardo's Village: When I was little, and every penny counted, I used to have a Dr Barnardo's collecting box in the shape of a cottage. It was given to me by a nice old lady who lived up the road, and every year she'd invite all the box-owning boys and girls in the village to a big party in her back garden. I always felt slightly guilty attending because I knew how few pennies were inside my box, and that my share of the sandwiches and squash on the table beneath the tulip tree had probably cost considerably more. Yesterday I went along to Barnardo's HQ in Barkingside, out on the loopy bit of the Central line, and discovered that these cottages are based on real life buildings that played a major part in the charity's work. More to the point, my old collecting box is rare enough that it would now be worth more empty that it ever was full. If only I'd have known, I could have eaten those sausage rolls and jelly with a clear conscience.
