Where are all the people who could be reading blogs? There are millions of people on the net every day, but only a tiny proportion of them are reading blogs. So, where's everybody else? I suspect a large number of world wide webbers are off reading forums or message boards instead. Maybe you're a user yourself.
Message boards are a bit like blogs. They're online portals for amateur publishing with a potential worldwide audience. People write stuff, offer opinions or ask questions on all sorts of diverse topics, then other people write back with their comments. Sometimes there are scores of new comments every day, sometimes nothing gets posted for months. So far so bloglike. But message boards aren't much like blogs. The dialogue is much more two-way, a chance to enter a conversation rather than react to one. Boards may be moderated but there isn't really one person in control - anybody can suggest topics rather than waiting around to see what today's subject is. And boards tend to focus on one small area of interest, rather than being personal viewpoints on the way life is. Boards are more interactive, blogs are more reflective, but both can build supportive online communities.
I found a free service from Forumer.com and the whole thing only took a couple of minutes to set up. I divided up my message board into London and non-London sections, set up special categories for London places, London events and London transport, then asked a few questions to start you off. You can pop over there and ask questions, post replies, start threads, make comments and generally interact with one another, if you like. You'll need to sign up to comment (don't worry because I'm not planning on selling your details to the spam merchants) or you can just read for free. Click <here>, OK? (4pm update: 48 posts so far)
I doubt that the diamond geezer forum will take off, though. Most successful forums target a very specific core interest, and mine doesn't really. And, to be honest, there's normally quite enough interaction in the comments boxes on this page without me diluting your thoughts by taking them off-site. In fact I'll be surprised if my forum gets any hits at all after this week, it's not really meant as a long term thing, but it'll be an interesting experiment for the few hours it survives. As an incentive for you to take a look I've set up a special Tea at three forum and I'm inviting you to join me there for a cuppa at 3pm (GMT) (ah, the joys of working from home this afternoon). But I'll see you back here on this page tomorrow - blogs still rule.
Number One quiz
Here are clues to the names of 20 artists who've had five or more number 1 records in the UK singles chart. The artists are arranged in descending order - the more number 1s they've had the nearer the start of the list they are. How many can you identify? (Answers in the comments box)
Number One number 1100 It Doesn't Matter Any More - Buddy Holly(February 2009)
I visited my local shopping centre in Stratford yesterday to see who was still buying singles, and the answer was seemingly nobody. In common with hundreds of other towns across the country there's now only one shop left in Stratford where you can still buy singles and that's Woolworths. Tucked between the albums and the endless racks of DVDs was a small section devoted to the 50 mainstream singles that Woolworths' buyers thought would least offend their customers this week. A small girl in a pink coat wandered over and picked up the latest single by Steps clones Pop! which had been conveniently positoned at seven year-old eye level. She gazed for a couple of seconds at the grinning bronzed singers on the cover, perhaps wondering whether the Blue Peter team had finally made a record, then carefully placed the plastic case back on the shelf and wandered off to look at the PlayStation games instead. Nobody else, even on a busy Saturday afternoon, gave the singles section a second look. Long live the download.
"Now you go your way and I'll go mine, now and forever till the end of time. I'll find somebody new and baby we'll say we're through and you won't matter anymore"
Number One number 80 One Night / I Got Stung - Elvis Presley(January 1959) Number One number 1000 One Night / I Got Stung - Elvis Presley(January 2005)
And so the 1000th number one goes to the dead American who also had the 62nd, 67th, 80th, 85th, 109th, 112th, 115th, 119th, 129th, 134th, 136th, 140th, 143rd, 154th, 197th, 289th, 412nd, 930th and 999th. Which is kind of appropriate, if not very inspiring. Thanks to a 70th birthday marketing stunt we've been lumbered with this ancient double A side atop the millennial chart, rather than anything new, fresh and forward-looking. I reckon that by March the British public will be so pissed off by Elvis re-releases that thay'll welcome the imminent merger of over-the-counter sales and downloads with open arms, only to discover that a stagnant chart dominated by six month-old U2 tracks is even more depressing. In the meantime let's all sing along with Elvis... erm, has anybody actually heard either of these songs anywhere in the last week?
"One night with you is what I'm now praying for, the things that we two could plan would make my dreams come true."
Number One number 900 Lady Marmalade - Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Mya and Pink(June 2001)
Just three years later Lady Marmalade returned to number 1, again sung by an all-girl quartet but this time an urban supergroup assembled to promote Baz Luhrmann's movie Moulin Rouge. The film is a masterpiece, so I'm told, but stripped of its visuals this single merely sounds like four American starlets screeching shakily through a seventies standard. Christina had already topped the charts once (with a work of Genie-us), and both she and Pink would do so again, but this was as good as it got for the less well known Lil' Kim and Mya. Only two singles have ever reached number 1 twice not performed by the original artist. This LaBelle cover is one, while the other is Against All Odds (which first hit the top for the execrable Westlife and Mariah Carey, then returned to the summit just a fortnight ago for X Factor winner Steve Brookstein).
"He met Marmalade down in old Moulin Rouge, strutting her stuff on the street... Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"
Number One number 800 Bootie Call - AllSaints(September 1998)
Saints they weren't, but Shaz, Mel, Nic and Nat were the credible R&B alternative to the Spice Girls in the late nineties. The quartet were named after All Saints Road in Notting Hill, site of the recording studio where Shaznay and Melanie first met, and they endeared themselves to many with their trademark crop tops and combats. All Saints enjoyed a highly successful chart career, achieving five number 1 singles before the band imploded in an orgy of petty back-stabbing. Alas the 800th number 1 was the weakest of the girls' chart toppers, with Bootie Call lacking either the classy funk of Never Ever, the chilled-out soul of Pure Shores or the sassy sleaze of Lady Marmalade. Of which more later...
"Good loving is not always from the heart, you gotta be smart, stay just the way you are, it's just a bootie call."
Number One number 700 Twist And Shout - Chaka Demus & Pliers(January 1994)
Chaka Demus and Pliers sound like they were named after a firm of Caribbean decorators, but they were actually christened John Taylor and Everton Bonne (which somehow isn't so catchy). Both grew up in Kingston, Jamaica, making their mark on the local dancehall scene by mixing contemporary and roots reggae styles. The mid nineties saw a bit of a reggae revival in the UK, also featuring Shaggy, Bitty McLean and Shabba Ranks (although Shabba was later outed as a rampant homophobe and dropped by his record label). As for the song, Twist And Shout is a much-covered Fifties classic which, in the hands of The Beatles, became the title track of the UK's top selling EP (ever). You won't remember EPs because they flourished in the early 60s and then died out (much like the single is about to).
"You know you look so good, you know your twist so fine, come on and twist a little closer now and let me know that you're mine."
Number One number 600 China In Your Hand - T'Pau(November 1987)
Unforgettable intro + plaintive singing + screeching chorus = local radio classic. T'Pau hailed from Shrewsbury and were named after the Vulcan matriach who supervised at Mr Spock's near-miss Star Trek wedding. The music press kindly described singer Carol Decker as 'flame-haired', which was better than her secret 80s twin Mick Hucknall fared. Carol was inspired to write this cracking song about the fragility of ambition after watching a documentary about Mary Shelley, creator of Frankenstein. Nowadays the only monsters associated with the hit are the drunkards who regularly massacre this 80s standard at pub karaoke nights. But you would too, wouldn't you?
"Your dreams are china in your hand, don't wish too hard because they may come true and you can't help them."
Like Abba eight years previously, Nicole Hohloch from Saarbrücken (representing West Germany) had won Eurovision in the UK, this time hosted by Jan Leeming in the Harrogate Conference Centre. Like Abba, Nicole also took her winner to Number 1 in the UK, the third consecutive year that the Eurovision winner had achieved this.
She had won Eurovision by a mile with ‘Ein Bißchen Frieden’ in German, gaining the maximum ‘douze points’ from nine of the seventeen other juries. Performing last, a 17 year-old girl seated on a stool, with a white guitar, singing a simple song about world peace, had cleaned up at a time when Europe was gripped by nuclear arms build-up, Reagan, Thatcher and fear of the cold war getting out of hand. Chig had been getting into trouble at school by going on CND marches and forming human chains around Greenham Common. Against this backdrop, when cunning linguist Nicole took us all by surprise and sang her winning reprise in French, Dutch and English too, it was all too much and 15 year-old Chig had to pretend not to be crying as he made his family keep quiet while he held the microphone of his tiny cassette recorder to the TV set. (That Summer, on a school trip to Holland, Chig bought the Dutch version of the 7” single. Even now, he can sing along to it in Dutch without having much idea what the actual words are!)
Nicole went on to save herself from the ‘one hit wonder’ category by the narrowest margin possible when her follow-up single scraped one week in the chart, at #75, giving her a chart career composed entirely of singles which peaked at either end of the UK chart. She’s still well-known in Germany. Nicole was Germany’s first Eurovision winner. They’re still waiting for their second.
"A little loving, a little giving, to build a dream for the world we live in, a little patience and understanding for our tomorrow, a little peace."
Number One number 400 Don`t Cry For Me Argentina - Julie Covington(February 1977)
Julie came to acting through the Cambridge Footlights, and in 1973 was the first actress to play Janet Weiss in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. She found fame as Dee in ITV's Rock Follies, but also found time to sing on the album Hey You! alongside Brian Cant, Toni Arthur and the rest of the Play Away team. Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber chose Julie to sing on their Evita album in 1976, and her rendition of Eva Peron's swansong became the pair's first international chart topper. Julie later turned down the lead role in the stage version for political reasons, and that's how the world was lumbered with Elaine Paige instead.
"So I chose freedom, running around trying everything new but nothing impressed me at all - I never expected it to."
Number One number 300 Knock Three Times - Dawn(May 1971)
You can almost see the taken-literally Pan's people dance routine now, can't you? This track was a teaspoon of early 70s kitsch that cruelly kept the Rolling Stones' Brown Sugar off the top spot. Dawn comprised moustached Tony Orlando and session singers Telma Hopkins and Joyce Wilson, but the group didn't actually meet until months after the single was released. The famous triple knock on the record really is the noise of the studio ceiling being hit and, on the third knock, of the studio ceiling falling in. I suspect nine million worldwide sales were enough to pay for a replacement.
"(knock knock knock) means you'll meet me in the hallway, twice on the pipe means you ain't gonna show."
Number One number 200 Help! - The Beatles(August 1965)
The 8th Beatles chart topper, recorded at Abbey Road a few weeks after I was born and the title song from the Fab Four's second film. The tune may sound happy and bouncy but the lyrics hint at drug use and depression, signalling a gradual shift in Lennon's songwriting from playful pop to meaningful reflection. Photographer Robert Freeman originally wanted the four lads to spell out the word "HELP" in semaphore on the album cover, but changed his mind for aesthetic reasons and they ended up spelling out nothing (except, maybe, "LPUS" if you view the cover in a mirror). Best of the centennial numbers ones by a mile, I reckon.
"But now these days are gone I'm not so self assured, now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors."
Number One number 100 Do You Mind - AnthonyNewley(April 1960)
Hackney-born Anthony Newley started out as a successful child actor, remembered particularly for his Artful Dodger. He slipped into popworld as a lyricist, but this particular song was written by fellow East End bloke Lionel Bart. Do You Mind followed in the footseps of Why to become the second of Newley's two number one hits and no, I don't remember how it goes either. Anthony went on to star in the West End musical Stop The World (among many others), married Joan Collins (among many others) and was (among many others) an acclaimed composer, a successful author, a Las Vegas crooner and a used car dealer in three episodes of EastEnders. An all-round London diamond and no mistake.
"If I shower you with kisses, if I tell you honey this is how I think of heaven, do you mind?"
Number One number 1
Here In My Heart - Al Martino(November 1952) The very first UK singles chart was the brainchild of Percy Dickens of the NME. He thought it would be a novel idea to ring up a few of his music business chums to ask them what was selling well, and so the Top 12 was born. The UK's first number one single was therefore an unremarkable ballad, but one which stayed at the top for a remarkable 9 weeks. It made Al Martino the chart's first superstar, and the American crooner relocated from Philadelphia to England to make the most of his new found fame. He's gone back now, of course, and you can hear 77 year-old Al tomorrow night performing his greatest hits live at the Sands Hotel in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Honest.
"Here is my heart, my life and my all dear, please be mine and stay here in my heart."
Last weekend Elvis Presley would have celebrated his 70th birthday, had he not been a fat bloated heart attack waiting to happen. In celebration (or as a ruthless money-making ploy) his record company are releasing all 18 of Elvis's number 1 singles at a rate of one a week, which is how the UK charts came to be topped by Jailhouse Rock on Sunday. This hip-swinging blast of rock is the title song from one of Elvis's better movies, was originally his second number 1 record and was composed by famous songwriters Leiber and Stoller. It has some slightly dodgy lyrics - "Number 47 said to number 3, you’re the cutest jailbird I ever did see" (just how many mixed US prisons do you know?) - but it would have made a perfect 1000th UK Number 1 single. Unfortunately it was only the 999th.
The return of Jailhouse Rock has broken several long standing chart records:
• Lengthiest chart-topping career: 47 years 6 months by Elvis Presley (from All Shook Up in July 1957 to Jailhouse Rock in January 2005)
• First record to be a number 1 hit twice (same version, same B-side): Elvis Presley with Jailhouse Rock (Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody and George Harrison's My Sweet Lord also hit number 1 twice but with different B sides)
• Most number 1 records: 19 by Elvis Presley (between 1977 and 2002 Elvis shared this particular record with The Beatles, who remain on 17)
• Most weeks at Number 1: 78 by Elvis Presley, again (comfortably ahead of The Beatles with 'only' 69)
• Lowest weekly sale for a number 1 record: Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley (which sold only 21262 copies last week, which is rubbish even given that it's the post-Christmas lull)
• First artist to enter the chart at number 1: Elvis Presley with Jailhouse Rock, back in 1958 that is (in the Fifties going in at number 1 was unheard of, now it's the only route to the summit) [seriously detailed number 1 related chart trivia here, and regular chart commentary here]
And so we turn to the race for the 1000th UK number one. Jailhouse Rock is a limited edition single so should slump from the summit on Sunday to be replaced by the magic millennial hit. There are plenty of 21st century newsingles out this week but no obvious chart-toppers, which leaves the way open for Elvis to replace himself at number 1 with the less than classic 'One Night'. You may not be able to hum it but it's already destined for the top, outselling its nearest challengers by a considerable margin. The widely-leaked midweekchart suggests that next week's top five will run as follows:
1 (new) Elvis Presley - One Night 2 (new) Manic Street Preachers - Empty Souls 3 (new) Killers - Somebody Told Me 4 (↓2) Steve Brookstein - Against All Odds 5 (↓4) Elvis Presley - Jailhouse Rock
Chig predicted this sorry state of affairs back in December, and warned us that Presley's posthumous domination might last right up until the end of April. But that's OK because by then the singles chart will have been reborn as a download-inclusive countdown and it's quite likely that nobody will give a damn about which act is on top any more. Which is a shame because the singles chart always used to say more about the zeitgeist of the nation than almost any other cultural phenomenon. diamond geezer will therefore be holding a wake for the single over the next few days by looking back over the centennial number 1s, leading up the the magic millennium on Sunday. It's the music that counts.
OK, I confess that one of the adverts in each of the above lists hasn't actually appeared this week during Countdown. Can you spot the four unscreened commercials? Have a stab in the comments box.
This is my first five-day working week for quite some time, and it's taking some getting used to. So to ease my pain I've been videoing chunks of afternoon television to remind myself that the cosy world of midweek inactivity isn't necessarily as rosy as I remember. Take Countdown on Channel 4, for example. Richard Whiteley's daily parlour game is always pleasantly undemanding fare, but its commercial breaks hint at an unhappy netherworld of immobility and financial insecurity. Here are some of Countdown's advertising lowlights so far this week, just to remind those of you reading this in the office that work's not all bad.
Monday afternoon, first ad break (3:13pm)
1a) Cash Builder Plus: "Can you afford not to save for your future," asks June Whitfield. "Just a small monthly payment could make all the difference to you and your family."
1b) Seven Seas Pure Cod Liver Oil Capsules: "Everyone needs healthy joints," says Terry Wogan. "Millions believe that these capsules relieve stiffness and help them to stay flexible."
1c) Stannah Stairlifts: "Leaving your home because you can no longer cope with the stairs can be an emotional and financial nightmare," says Thora Hird's replacement. "Trust Stannah to provide a smooth quiet ride."
Monday afternoon, second ad break (3:27pm)
2a) Churchill's Flexichair: "Helps you move around your house in comfort. Looks and works like a normal rise and recline chair. Available in a wide choice of fabrics and colours. Why struggle?"
2b) Vale Upholstery: "We take our time carving kiln-dried hardwoods and choosing exclusive fabrics ensuring comfort and luxury from the best quality threads and seamstress skills. Take a moment to enjoy hand carved traditional elegance."
2c) Werther's Original: "My grandfather was always an entertainer, and he made me smile when he gave me my first Werther's. I'll never forget that wonderful creamy taste. Now it's my turn to continue the tradition."
Tuesday afternoon, first ad break (3:13pm)
3a) Norwich Union Equity release: "The money would come in useful - help see the grandkids right, treat ourselves a little."
3b) Saga Motor Insurance: "We never really grow up but our driving does. That's why Saga can offer low cost insurance for people aged 50 or over."
3c) Vintage Vehicles: "Part one comes complete with this highly detailed Triumph Herald. Only £2.99 (normal price £6.99)."
Tuesday afternoon, second ad break (3:28pm)
4a) "I knew the industrial accident wasn't my fault. Accidents Direct proved it, and the £3000 compensation claim came in really handy."
4b) "Are you a homeowner who could benefit from an Ocean Finance loan, perhaps by reducing monthly outgoings by consolidating existing debts?"
4c) "If you have mild bladder weakness, Tema Lady gives you reliable protection. Three sizes to suit your needs, all are thin and discreet, reassuringly discreet."
Save time with the automatic "Response to the 2005 Brit nominations" blogpost generator
Have you seen the 2005 Brit nominations? . Who selects these shortlists? Take the Best British Solo Artist, for example. No way does deserve to be honoured, except perhaps for services to . What credibility can these awards have when there are categories voted for by listeners to or readers of ? Does anyone seriously think that made the best single of last year? And is not dead yet??!! Interesting to see in the Best British , Best British and Best British categories. I can't believe wrote one of the best 5 songs the last 25 years has to offer, but it would be to see winning that particular accolade. Surely must be in with a good chance of an award with 3 nominations, but dominate proceedings with . Personally I'd rather have seen the judges giving proper recognition at last. But at least there really is no sign of this year!! See you on 9th February.
If you've arrived here from the Guardian's Newsblog, hello. And don't worry, I don't always write lengthy essays about obscure London suburbs (just some of the time). Now, while I've got the Guardian's attention, could I make a plea about the nasty advertising leaflet that you tuck inside the G2 tabloid section of your newspaper every weekday? Every day the leaflet is different, but every day the leaflet attempts to sell me something that I'm not interested in buying. Every time I attempt to open my newspaper on the Central line this leaflet falls to the floor, and every time this happens I have to suffer the pointed stares of other passengers who think I'm busy littering the carriage. Sometimes I'm too embarrassed to pick up the offending leaflet, sometimes I can't pick it up because the train is too crowded, but usually I don't want to pick it up because the carriage floor is dirty (or wet) (or both). Not to mention that even if I do pick up this paper-based waste material there are no litter bins on the Underground into which it can easily be discarded. So, please, could you provide the kiosk outside Bow Road tube station with one special copy of your newspaper every morning which doesn't contain an unwanted wasteful junk advert? Many thanks.
Somewhere fictional: Railway Cuttings, East Cheam 23 Railway Cuttings, East Cheam, was the fictional home of comic legend Tony Aloysius Hancock. Hancock'sHalfHour remains the classic TV sitcom of the 1950s, detailing the everyday life of a Cheam resident with ideas above his station. The show was written by Ray Galton and Alan Simpson (who also wrote Steptoe and Son) and they brought us such classic episodes as The Blood Donor and The Radio Ham. As time went by Tony Hancock became more and more insecure with his fame, first sacking fellow actor Sid James and then taking to reading his script off autocue rather than memorising his lines. An ill-advised move to ITV followed and alcoholic Hancock was eventually depressed enough to take his own life.
But neither East Cheam nor Railway Cuttings actually exist. There's a North Cheam, but Galton and Simpson invented the fictional eastern suburb as the sort of posh place in which Tony Hancock might have aspired to live. As you can see in the photo above there are indeed railway cuttings in the area (these are on the Thameslink line) but there's no actual road bearing their name. I spent a half hour scouring the area's suburban streets looking for a suitable substitute. Beside the cuttings I found GroveAvenue, a short tree-lined road with pretensions of grandeur. One man was out washing his car but the remaining residents lurked inside behind twitching net curtains. Signs on brick pillars at each end of the street warned that this was a private road (residents parking only) and just walking down the street felt oppressive and uncomfortable. But the faded 1930s mock Tudor semi at number 23 (see photo) looked to be just the sort of place in which Hancock might have lived, and maybe his modern equivalent is still doing so. by train: Cheam
Somewhere sporty: Sutton United When grown men want to sneak away from their wives at weekends they don't go after loose women, they join football teams. The fitter blokes might end up in the squad but the rest just yell from the touchline every other Saturday or, even better, get a job in club management. SuttonUnited feels like the sort of team that such men might aspire to join, currently languishing mid-table in the NationwideConference South. Their ground at GanderGreenLane boasts a post-war grandstand and the legendary Rose's Tea Hut, but all that was evident on the pitch when I peered through a gap in the fence on Saturday was a large crowd of noisy seagulls. The team were preparing to play away so a huge white coach was standing ready to transport the squad, a few supporters and associated suit-wearing hangers-on to the afternoon's match at Redbridge. The coach was later involved in a minor road accident, delaying kickoff by 15 minutes, but nobody was hurt. I'm pleased to say that Sutton thrashed the opposition fivenil, the latest in a string of five consecutive recent victories, and I hope that all (cough) 158 supporters present enjoyed the match. by train: West Sutton, by bus: 413
Somewhere retail: Sutton I was somewhat surprised to discover that Sutton is a retail magnet, located as close as it is to both Croydon and Wimbledon, but the High Street boasts a huge range of shops that those of us living in East London can only dream of. Every chain store worth its salt has a presence and shoppers come from miles around every weekend to throng the pedestriansed streets and modern malls. I was impressed. On Saturday afternoon shoppers outside the St Nicholas Shopping Centre were being serenaded by a Chinese gentleman playing some sort of wailing one-stringed electric instrument. He was playing a tune that was almost identical to Rod Stewart's Sailing but wasn't quite, presumably for copyright reasons. You can see him in the photo being hassled by six mocking youngsters (they had loud whistles, the little scamps), but unfortunately I failed to capture the moment a few minutes later when another shopper stopped by and actually bought one of his CDs for a tenner. Further up the road a middle-aged man in a rainbow-coloured wig was folding balloon animals for stupefied toddlers, some brave lad had dressed up as Superman to hand out soon-discarded leaflets, and two dear ladies shaking tins for the RNLI were losing out big time to the tsunami bucketeers standing a little further down the street. Just another Sutton Saturday. by train: Sutton
So anonymous is the London borough of Sutton that I had to think really really hard to remember exactly where it was (below Wimbledon and west of Croydon, as it turned out). And that's where I ended up yesterday, scouring the borough to try to find some places of interest to report back on. And it was hard work because there really isn't very much in Sutton apart from people's houses, but I tried and I managed to find some places that were almost interesting. Part one today, part two tomorrow.
Somewhere famous: Croydon Airport It may not be famous now, but between 1920 and 1939 CroydonAirport was London's glamorous gateway to the world. Two WW1 aerodromes were combined to form London's first international airport, with scheduled flights to Paris, Rotterdam and Amsterdam. Imperial Airways was formed here in 1924 and the world's first terminal building was opened in 1928 (that's the one in the photo). Charles Lindbergh and AmyJohnson both flew from Croydon, and when Amy returned here having made the first flight to Australia by a woman she received a rapturous welcome. After WW2 the title of London's main airport passed to Heathrow because it was more able to cope with larger jetliners, and Croydon Airport was slowly run down before closing completely in 1959.
The western part of Croydon Airport was redeveloped in the 1960s as the Roundshaw housing estate. It's a million miles away from international glamour, more a poor collection of concrete blocks and Wimpey Homes gathered round a Co-op supermarket. You wouldn't live here. All the cul-de-sacs are named after famous aviators or aeroplanes, and the local primary school commemorates local hero Amy Johnson. To the east the terminal building still stands, refurbished as office units with a restored De Havilland Heron perched outside overlooking the main A23 road. The central part of the old airfield remains undeveloped, home to six football pitches, a nature reserve and a model aircraft flying zone. There were only kites flying in yesterday's high winds, but it was good to see the area's aeronautical tradition being maintained. by bus: 119, 154
Somewhere historic: Whitehall Not the real Whitehall, you understand, but a very old house in Cheam dating back to the 16th century. Some farmers lived in it. It's now a local museum. Sorry, but that's about as historic as Sutton gets. But the park at the bottom of the road just over the border into Surrey has a much more impressive history. It was here in 1538, on the site of a razed village, that Henry VIII ordered the construction of NonsuchPalace. This was to be a magnificent Renaissance showpiece, and eventually was, but unfortunately the exterior walls were so ornate that Henry died before they were completed. Charles II later gave Nonsuch as a gift to one of his mistresses, Barbara Villers, but she was eventually forced to demolish the palace to pay off huge gambling debts. There's nothing more than parkland on the site now, which is a shame, and the place merits no more than a small exhibition in the old farmer's house. by train: Cheam, by bus: 151, 213
Somewhere pretty: Carshalton Ponds You can always tell when somewhere suburban is pretty because it's full of people exercising their dogs and looking the other way when they foul the grass. In which case various parts of Carshalton must be very pretty indeed. There's an unexpectedly big lake (with ducks) near the town centre, at the western end of which is the Honeywoodheritage centre (pictured). To the north, past some more ducks, is an old watertower (open summer Sundays). And to the east lies Beddington Park, a very pleasant rolling green expanse and the source of the River Wandle. A faded sign at the entrance warns that 'Dogs are being stolen from this park', but the place was full of exercising canines when I visited so the owners didn't seem to be too worried. All pretty then, but not sufficiently so to go out of your way for a visit. by train: Carshalton, by bus: 407
Tomorrow: a sitcom classic, a struggling football team and a bloke playing with his organ in public
Random borough: It's time I took another random trip to one of London's 33 boroughs. I've visited three already so there are still 30 folded slips of paper in my special jamjar (at least until I select the next one). I could pick any of the remaining boroughs - inner or outer, north or south, urban or suburban, fascinating or dull. I just know it won't be Merton, Islington or Enfield because they're the three boroughs I've picked out already. Once I've researched my randomly-chosen borough online I'll head off and visit some of its most interesting places, assuming it has any. I hope to visit somewhere famous, somewhere historic, somewhere pretty, somewhere retail, somewhere sporty and somewhere random. And then I'll come back tomorrow and tell you all about it. Let's see where I'm going this time...
I've been wanting to see Jerry Springer -The Opera, for at least 18 months. I missed it when it was on at the NationalTheatre two summers ago and I've never quite got around to watching it at the Cambridge Theatre in the West End where it's been playing since September 2003. Had I been hipper and trendier I might even have gone to watch the fledgling operetta at the BatterseaArts Centre in February 2002. But tonight I can watch the whole performance on BBC2 from my very own sofa. And, quite frankly, I am appalled and outraged.
Jerry Springer - The Opera is obscene. According to a press release from pressure group Mediawatch the play contains more than 8000 obscenities (including 279 c***s and 3168 f***s). Mediawatch are outraged by this "highly offensive and continuous stream of obscene language ...causing very considerable offence to licence-fee payers". But then Mediawatch are Mary Whitehouse's National Viewers and Listers Association reborn so you'd expect them to be frothing rabidly at almost anything the BBC does. And they can't count properly. Apparently "the total number of obscenities is calculated by multiplying the number of swear-words by the number of people singing them". There are in fact only 11 c***s in Jerry Springer (each sung by a chorus of 27 people), but we'll not let this get in the way of outraged hype. You can hear much worse swearing in any secondary school playground. So I'm not appalled by the swearing.
Jerry Springer - The Opera is blasphemous. Any show featuring Jesus in a nappy is clearly blasphemous, and this seems to have enraged religious groups far more than the swearing. Never mind that the great majority of the 40000complainants haven't actually seen the show, nor that this show has been appearing in the West End for over a year withoutprotest - its appearance on prime time post-watershed television marks the debasement of civilisation and the end of the world as we know it. The BBC promise to give very clear warnings before the show is broadcast tonight, but any churchgoer could accidentally stumble across this profanity by switching channels at one minute past ten (this seems highly likely given that Billy Connolly is on BBC1 at the same time). But I suspect Christianity will survive intact following tonight's operatic Armageddon. So I'm not appalled by the blasphemy.
I am appalled that the BBC is screening a complete West End show before the end of its run. How dare the BBC damage the financial viability of London's theatreland by showing for free what would normally cost a group of four people in excess of the annual licence fee. It's difficult enough getting me to the the theatre at the best of times, but now I can merely wait two years, stay in and wait for these West End jewels to be broadcast on national television. My entire motivation for buying vastly overpriced theatre tickets has evaporated overnight. So, BBC, think again!! (And, er, can you screen Acorn Antiques- The Musical next please).
Recycling: I've now piled up all my Christmas cards ready to take down to Tesco (if only people had sent me more I could have recycled even more). And I've collected up more than 100 "I'll keep that because it might be useful one day" plastic bags which I'll be taking down to the recycling bins too. But Annie did even better - she offered an old iBook on donateapc.org and a homeless charity snapped it up within a few hours. Way to go.
detox: Having knocked my weight down by six pounds in 24 hours, and another two pounds 12 hours later, you'll not be surprised to hear that I've put that extra two pounds back on. Maybe breaking my fast with steak pie and chips was a mistake. But I'm still six pounds down, so I must still be doing something right.
london geezer: My 'London bits only' blog, lndn, was one year old yesterday, so it's appropriate (if somewhat surprising) that yesterday it also received its 10000th visitor. There's nothing new there, just all my London posts collected in one place, but Google (and a few of you) seem to love it.
Bow Road: It's been a quiet Christmas at Bow Road tube station, just a few more cables, a lot more station closures and the extension of all the official storage licenses until the end of May. So, there are just five months to go until the station is fully renovated, probably. You can check out my daily updates here or enjoy the whole story so far in one thrilling dedicated page, here.
Celebrity Big Brother (3): It's back, and it features him, her, her, him, her, him, him and her. I am already not interested. When does the next real series begin?
tea: I returned to work yesterday to discover, in my bulging inbox, an email from on high announcing that a kettle is to be installed in each kitchen area in my office building. Hurrah! My joy on reading this three week old email was curtailed only by the fact that the kettle doesn't seem to have appeared yet, but at least someone in the company has finally seen sense. I'm looking forward to getting my regular tea fix again, even if the "we're taking away your kettle because someone left a dirty mug by the sink" email can't be too far behind.
Stress: If the first week back at work has been too much for you, try taking it out on this. (via linkbunnies)
We produce 10% more rubbish at Christmas than at any other time of the year. How much of your Christmas are you recycling?
• The Woodland Trust yesterday launched its annual Christmas Card recycling scheme (45 million cards were recycled last year). Take your cards along to the special bins at Tesco or WHSmith before the end of January.
• If you've been sent any rubbish Christmas presents, a charity shop would appreciate them. Maybe not now while they're busy with other things, but definitely later. Find your nearest charity shop here. Next year, maybe buy recycled instead.
• Of the 6 million Christmas trees bought this Christmas, only 10% will be recycled and only 5% replanted. Your local authority or garden centre probably has facilities for turning old trees into wood chippings.
• Bottle banks also accept jars, like the 5½ million jars of mincemeat, 12 million jars of pickles and 6½ million jars of cranberry sauce the UK will have used this Christmas. Oh, and blue bottles should go in the green bank, apparently.
• If you got a new computer this Christmas, consider donating your old one here. And if you've been buying new furniture in the January sales, maybe your old furniture could be put to good use here.
• Make it a New Year resolution to use your local recycling centre. Find your nearest recycling centre here (I found 7 within a mile of my house).
• More everyday recycling info here, here, here, here and here.
We produce 10% more rubbish at Christmas than at any other time of the year. How much of your Christmas are you recycling?
• The Woodland Trust yesterday launched its annual Christmas Card recycling scheme (45 million cards were recycled last year). Take your cards along to the special bins at Tesco or WHSmith before the end of January.
• If you've been sent any rubbish Christmas presents, a charity shop would appreciate them. Maybe not now while they're busy with other things, but definitely later. Find your nearest charity shop here. Next year, maybe buy recycled instead.
• Of the 6 million Christmas trees bought this Christmas, only 10% will be recycled and only 5% replanted. Your local authority or garden centre probably has facilities for turning old trees into wood chippings.
• Bottle banks also accept jars, like the 5½ million jars of mincemeat, 12 million jars of pickles and 6½ million jars of cranberry sauce the UK will have used this Christmas. Oh, and blue bottles should go in the green bank, apparently.
• If you got a new computer this Christmas, consider donating your old one here. And if you've been buying new furniture in the January sales, maybe your old furniture could be put to good use here.
• Make it a New Year resolution to use your local recycling centre. Find your nearest recycling centre here (I found 7 within a mile of my house).
• More everyday recycling info here, here, here, here and here.
At noon today a three minute silence will be observed across Europe in remembrance of the victims of the Sumatrantsunami. I'm all for remembering with silence, but I'm not in favour of recent 'compassion inflation' whereby these silences are gettinglonger. Appalling though this recent tragedy is I wonder why three minutes are needed when we remember the millions killed in wartime action with 'only' two. I don't believe a nation's compassion should be measured by the number of minutes it can stay silent, it should be (and thankfully is being) measured by action. But I've done some research into the origins of the twominutesilence, and it turns out it started as a three minute silence anyway...
If three minutes is the new going rate for remembering disaster, then three minutes I'll gladly give. But, just to keep my three minutes in casualty-sized perspective, I'll be remembering the Western tourist dead for less than ten seconds and the local inhabitants for the remainder.
23:59 Last-minute new season Creme Egg. 00:00 Weigh-in: X stone 9 pounds (where X, for today's purposes, is irrelevant). Sigh, I have never weighed this much before. 00:02 Drink 1 pint of toxin-stripping water. 00:03 Weigh-in: X stone 10 pounds (a fat lot of good that water did me) 00:30 Embark on seven hour period of fasting (otherwise known as 'sleep') 06:25 Wake up. Realise I still have another two days off work. Go back to sleep for a bit. 07:45 Wake up. Go for a wee. 07:46 Weigh-in: X stone 7 pounds (hmm, that sleep worked) 08:05 Weigh-in: X stone 6 pounds (I appear to have lost another pound by not doing anything) 08:10 Breakfast = one cup of tea (no milk, no sugar). Vow to buy skimmed milk later. Dream of bacon. 08:45 Weigh-in: X stone 7 pounds (maybe that teabag was a bit much) 09:00 Visit bathroom for daily bowel-opening. 09:03 Weigh-in: X stone 5 pounds (I've lost five pounds in nine hours) 09:25 Run down to the paper shop. 09:32 Weigh-in: X stone 6 pounds (jogging is over-rated. Or maybe you're supposed to do it for more than a minute) 10:35 I have a nasty feeling that, after 10 years, I finally need to up the waist size on my trousers. Walk to Oxford Street to buy some new ones in the sales. 12:05 Reach Oxford Street after a strapping five mile walk through the East End and the City. Go shopping. 12:48 Stand in some changing rooms holding a pair of W waist trousers and a pair of W+2 waist trousers. Discover that the W+2 waist trousers fit better. Sigh deeply. 12:53 Buy two pairs of W+2 trousers for work. 13:35 Arrive home (I returned by train, sorry) 13:38 Weigh-in: X stone 5 pounds (looks like the only pounds I shed were on the trousers) 13:50 Lunch = one apple + a pint of water 14:37 Attempt 100 fitness-inducing press-ups. Fail to manage one (I have weak arms, honest) 14:57 Attempt 100 fitness-inducing sit-ups. Fail to manage one (not to any convincing degree anyway) 15:12 Go shopping for tonight's meal (that's another one mile walk) 15:58 Return with low fat mince, wholewheat pasta, apples, carrots, mushroom ravioli, a tin of baked beans, next week's Radio Times and a Creme Egg. 16:01 Weigh-in: X stone 5 pounds (my weight seems to have settled) 16:44 Go climb 10 flights of stairs 16:52 Weigh-in: X stone 5 pounds (I shan't bother to do that again) 17:26 Cut my toenails 17:33 Weigh-in: X stone 4 pounds (I can't believe this weight loss was cuticle related) 18:00 Go on a fact-finding mission to visit all the public gyms and health centres within one mile of my house... 18:01 ...except there aren't any, which is good because I wasn't intending to waste my life in one anyway. 18:49 Dinner = two carrots + a pint of water 19:08 Weigh-in: X stone 4 pounds (and a very empty stomach) 19:15 Settle down on the sofa to slob in front of the TV for the rest of the evening. 00:00 Final weigh-in: X stone 3 pounds (I double-checked - it's true) 00:01 Celebratory new season Creme Egg.
So, I appear to have lost six pounds (nearly 3kg) in one day. I must say I'm surprised - I never thought this detox would actually work. Having said that, the two most effective ways to lose weight appear to be a) sleeping and b) sitting on the toilet, and after my 24 hour fast I doubt the second option is going to work again tomorrow morning. However, you should expect me to publish a paperback version of my hugely successful dg Detox Diet next New Year. Anyone want to preorder?
Most of the decades over the last century have had universally accepted names. There have been the Twenties, the Thirties, the Forties, the Fifties, the Sixties, the Seventies, the Eighties and the Nineties. Just reading through that list will no doubt have conjured up evocative thoughts of each decade (click on a few of those links to see if you agree with me). Each name acts as a useful label, a one-word summary of ten years, a convenient way to refer to a particular era in our past.
But we're now halfway through the first decade after the Nineties, the ten years from 2000-2009, and this decade doesn't have a name yet. Not a proper one, anyway. Sure some people have tried to call this decade the Noughties but, let's be honest, this name really hasn't been generally accepted. You just don't hear people taking about the Noughties in the same way as they do about the Nineties or all those other decades. Apparently this has something to do with the fact that Americans never use the word nought to describe zero (they just use zero) so the word Noughties doesn't stand a chance on a global scale. Calling this decade the 2000s doesn't work either because that describes a whole century, and other suggested names such as the zeroes or the nillies or the double 0s just sound either very wrong or very stupid.
But is this really a problem? We've survived a century without a proper nickname for the years from 1900-09 (even if dying monarchs have conveniently allowed us to call it the Edwardian era instead) and there's no shorthand for 1910-1919 either (unless you allow World-War-One-ish). So maybe we'll get by without a special name for 2000-2009, or for 2010-2019 too for that matter, and only revert to normal labelling conventions once the next lot of Twenties roll round. In fact it's quite liberating not being able to label the current decade because trends in society tend not to fit into nice convenient ten-year slots anyway (Thatcherism excepted). In the meantime let's just enjoy being halfway through this decade. This decade will do as a name for the time being.
2005 anniversary quiz: Here are 12 quotations linked to events celebrating an anniversary in 2005. How many can you identify?
Answers now in the comments box, or by clicking on each date.
Feb 18th 1930: "Dr. Slipher, I have found your Planet X." (75 years) Mar 2nd 1965: "I go to the hills when my heart is lonely." (40 years) Apr 15th 1755: "Every other author may aspire to praise; the lexicographer can only hope to escape reproach." (250 years) May 8th 1945: "We the undersigned hereby surrender unconditionally." (60 years) Jul 13th 1985: "Don't go to the pub tonight; there are people dying now." (20 years) Jul 17th 1955: "For those of us who remember the carefree time it recreates, Main Street will bring back happy memories." (50 years) Aug 6th 1945: "The bombardier and the pilot forgot to put on their dark glasses and therefore witnessed the flash which was terrific." (60 years) Sep 22nd 1955: "It's tingling fresh. It's fresh as ice. It's Gibbs SR toothpaste." (50 years) Sep 26th 1905: "Every physical law is invariant under inertial co-ordinate transformations." (100 years) Oct 21st 1805: "England expects that every man will do his duty." (200 years) Nov 5th 1605: "i would advyse yowe as yowe tender youer lyf to devys some excuse to shift of youer attendance at this parleament" (400 years) Dec 8th 1980: "I don't remember aiming. I just pulled the trigger steady five times." (25 years)
Within the last half hour diamond geezer has received its 150000th visitor. Which is nice. 150000 isn't an especially special number, it just ends in a lot of zeroes, but it does give me a good excuse to update my semi-regular 'league table' of top linking blogs, ordered by volume of visitors clicking here from there. This time I've also included the 'highest climbers' since my last update way back in July. Thanks to the following for linking, and thanks to the rest of you for clicking. Go on, click on a few yourself, you'll enjoy them...
Test: I made my New Year observations from a 4th floor balcony in Clerkenwell, with a wristwatch on one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. That's a proper wristwatch with seconds, not one of those fashion bracelets that merely tells you the big hand is somewhere near the blob at the top. Other partygoers were present on the balcony at the same time, but none of them were involved in the experiment. I was able to make my observations during the gap between two particularly debilitating bouts of hiccups, a condition which beset me on several further occasions throughout the early hours of the morning.
From my position on the balcony I was able to see: a) the top quarter of the London Eye, poking out above the rooftops of central London b) a rather flashy widescreen (digital) television, tuned into 'New Year Live' on BBC1
As midnight approached I watched (on television) the 60 second countdown being projected onto the face of the Shell Building beside the Thames. I noted that the TV countdown appeared to be running one second behind the time on my wristwatch. Digital television was indeed running slow, as predicted. Big Ben proved to be inaudible both on the television and in real life, but the fireworks in the sky did start exploding at the precise second when the new year began. All those present on the balcony offered copious New Year greetings and raised a glass to 2005.
I watched the fireworkdisplay both live in the sky and not-quite-live on digital television. It was hard to tell precisely how long a delay there was between the live and the transmitted fireworks, partly because it was impossible to watch both displays simultaneously but mostly because it was very good champagne. It appeared to me that BBC1's pictures of the fireworks were again running approximately one second behind the actual aerial pyrotechnics. The fireworks were much prettier on the television than in real life, for which I blame the rooftops.
The firework display lasted exactly ten minutes, finishing at 00:10 precisely. The noise from the fireworks, however, continued for a further 8 seconds. With sound waves travelling roughly 1km every 3 seconds, this suggested to me that the balcony on which I was standing lay just over 2½km from the London Eye. On returning home, four hiccuping attacks later, I was pleased to discover on a map of Central London that this measurement had indeed been accurate.
Moral of the story: Don't sip your champagne too quickly or the bubbles get stuck in your throat.
Number One quiz
OK, I confess that one of the adverts in each of the above lists hasn't actually appeared this week during Countdown. Can you spot the four unscreened commercials? Have a stab in the comments box.
23 Railway Cuttings, East Cheam, was the fictional home of comic legend Tony Aloysius Hancock. Hancock's Half Hour remains the classic TV sitcom of the 1950s, detailing the everyday life of a Cheam resident with ideas above his station. The show was written by Ray Galton and Alan Simpson (who also wrote Steptoe and Son) and they brought us such classic episodes as The Blood Donor and The Radio Ham. As time went by Tony Hancock became more and more insecure with his fame, first sacking fellow actor Sid James and then taking to reading his script off autocue rather than memorising his lines. An ill-advised move to ITV followed and alcoholic Hancock was eventually depressed enough to take his own life.
But neither East Cheam nor Railway Cuttings actually exist. There's a North Cheam, but Galton and Simpson invented the fictional eastern suburb as the sort of posh place in which Tony Hancock might have aspired to live. As you can see in the photo above there are indeed railway cuttings in the area (these are on the Thameslink line) but there's no actual road bearing their name. I spent a half hour scouring the area's suburban streets looking for a suitable substitute. Beside the cuttings I found Grove Avenue, a short tree-lined road with pretensions of grandeur. One man was out washing his car but the remaining residents lurked inside behind twitching net curtains. Signs on brick pillars at each end of the street warned that this was a private road (residents parking only) and just walking down the street felt oppressive and uncomfortable. But the faded 1930s mock Tudor semi at number 23 (see photo) looked to be just the sort of place in which Hancock might have lived, and maybe his modern equivalent is still doing so.
When grown men want to sneak away from their wives at weekends they don't go after loose women, they join football teams. The fitter blokes might end up in the squad but the rest just yell from the touchline every other Saturday or, even better, get a job in club management. Sutton United feels like the sort of team that such men might aspire to join, currently languishing mid-table in the Nationwide Conference South. Their ground at Gander Green Lane boasts a post-war grandstand and the legendary Rose's Tea Hut, but all that was evident on the pitch when I peered through a gap in the fence on Saturday was a large crowd of noisy seagulls. The team were preparing to play away so a huge white coach was standing ready to transport the squad, a few supporters and associated suit-wearing hangers-on to the afternoon's match at Redbridge. The coach was later involved in a minor road accident, delaying kickoff by 15 minutes, but nobody was hurt. I'm pleased to say that Sutton thrashed the opposition five nil, the latest in a string of five consecutive recent victories, and I hope that all (cough) 158 supporters present enjoyed the match.
I was somewhat surprised to discover that Sutton is a retail magnet, located as close as it is to both Croydon and Wimbledon, but the High Street boasts a huge range of shops that those of us living in East London can only dream of. Every chain store worth its salt has a presence and shoppers come from miles around every weekend to throng the pedestriansed streets and modern malls. I was impressed. On Saturday afternoon shoppers outside the St Nicholas Shopping Centre were being serenaded by a Chinese gentleman playing some sort of wailing one-stringed electric instrument. He was playing a tune that was almost identical to Rod Stewart's Sailing but wasn't quite, presumably for copyright reasons. You can see him in the photo being hassled by six mocking youngsters (they had loud whistles, the little scamps), but unfortunately I failed to capture the moment a few minutes later when another shopper stopped by and actually bought one of his CDs for a tenner. Further up the road a middle-aged man in a rainbow-coloured wig was folding balloon animals for stupefied toddlers, some brave lad had dressed up as Superman to hand out soon-discarded leaflets, and two dear ladies shaking tins for the RNLI were losing out big time to the tsunami bucketeers standing a little further down the street. Just another Sutton Saturday.
It may not be famous now, but between 1920 and 1939 Croydon Airport was London's glamorous gateway to the world. Two WW1 aerodromes were combined to form London's first international airport, with scheduled flights to Paris, Rotterdam and Amsterdam. Imperial Airways was formed here in 1924 and the world's first terminal building was opened in 1928 (that's the one in the photo). Charles Lindbergh and Amy Johnson both flew from Croydon, and when Amy returned here having made the first flight to Australia by a woman she received a rapturous welcome. After WW2 the title of London's main airport passed to Heathrow because it was more able to cope with larger jetliners, and Croydon Airport was slowly run down before closing completely in 1959.
The western part of Croydon Airport was redeveloped in the 1960s as the Roundshaw housing estate. It's a million miles away from international glamour, more a poor collection of concrete blocks and Wimpey Homes gathered round a Co-op supermarket. You wouldn't live here. All the cul-de-sacs are named after famous aviators or aeroplanes, and the local primary school commemorates local hero Amy Johnson. To the east the terminal building still stands, refurbished as office units with a restored De Havilland Heron perched outside overlooking the main A23 road. The central part of the old airfield remains undeveloped, home to six football pitches, a nature reserve and a model aircraft flying zone. There were only kites flying in yesterday's high winds, but it was good to see the area's aeronautical tradition being maintained.
Not the real Whitehall, you understand, but a very old house in Cheam dating back to the 16th century. Some farmers lived in it. It's now a local museum. Sorry, but that's about as historic as Sutton gets. But the park at the bottom of the road just over the border into Surrey has a much more impressive history. It was here in 1538, on the site of a razed village, that Henry VIII ordered the construction of Nonsuch Palace. This was to be a magnificent Renaissance showpiece, and eventually was, but unfortunately the exterior walls were so ornate that Henry died before they were completed. Charles II later gave Nonsuch as a gift to one of his mistresses, Barbara Villers, but she was eventually forced to demolish the palace to pay off huge gambling debts. There's nothing more than parkland on the site now, which is a shame, and the place merits no more than a small exhibition in the old farmer's house.
You can always tell when somewhere suburban is pretty because it's full of people exercising their dogs and looking the other way when they foul the grass. In which case various parts of Carshalton must be very pretty indeed. There's an unexpectedly big lake (with ducks) near the town centre, at the western end of which is the Honeywood heritage centre (pictured). To the north, past some more ducks, is an old water tower (open summer Sundays). And to the east lies Beddington Park, a very pleasant rolling green expanse and the source of the River Wandle. A faded sign at the entrance warns that 'Dogs are being stolen from this park', but the place was full of exercising canines when I visited so the owners didn't seem to be too worried. All pretty then, but not sufficiently so to go out of your way for a visit.
Random borough: It's time I took another random trip to one of London's 33 boroughs. I've visited three already so there are still 30 folded slips of paper in my special jamjar (at least until I select the next one). I could pick any of the remaining boroughs - inner or outer, north or south, urban or suburban, fascinating or dull. I just know it won't be Merton, Islington or Enfield because they're the three boroughs I've picked out already. Once I've researched my randomly-chosen borough online I'll head off and visit some of its most interesting places, assuming it has any. I hope to visit somewhere famous, somewhere historic, somewhere pretty, somewhere retail, somewhere sporty and somewhere random. And then I'll come back tomorrow and tell you all about it. Let's see where I'm going this time...
Bow Road: It's been a quiet Christmas at Bow Road tube station, just a few more cables, a lot more station closures and the extension of all the official storage licenses until the end of May. So, there are just five months to go until the station is fully renovated, probably. You can check out my daily updates here or enjoy the whole story so far in one thrilling dedicated page, here.
X+12
As midnight approached I watched (on television) the 60 second countdown being projected onto the face of the Shell Building beside the Thames. I noted that the TV countdown appeared to be running one second behind the time on my wristwatch. Digital television was indeed running slow, as predicted. Big Ben proved to be inaudible both on the television and in real life, but the fireworks in the sky did start exploding at the precise second when the new year began. All those present on the balcony offered copious New Year greetings and raised a glass to 2005.
