Lets kick off a tour of seasonal street names with a trip to the top of the world. London's North Pole is in North Kensington, near Wormwood Scrubs, and has a climate much like the rest of the capital. The name derives from a country inn, originally The Globe, later The North Pole, built on the edge of fields beside a small stream off Scrubs Lane. The West London Railway was the catalyst for change, opened in the 1840s between Willesden and Kensington following the line of Counters Creek south towards the Thames. A wooden halt was added above the road in 1871, and housing followed. Air raid damage left the growing suburb without a station after 1940, but Overground trains still stop here because this is the point where drivers have to pause to switch voltage. [1897 map][2019 map]
North Pole Road now straddles the railway, two postcodes and two neighbouring boroughs, despite being barely 250m long. It kicks off at the top of Wood Lane, beside a muddy triangle dotted with plane trees and a row of flats where the old station used to be. Here too is The Pavilion, a hostelry built to serve rifle shooters on the Scrubs, now content to serve up Sunday Roasts and Pub Classics. At The Flower Works daffs are going for a pound, and holly wreaths for rather more. Patrons of a cafe called Cafe spill out onto the street. Homely businesses along the subsequent shopping parade include Mick's fish bar, Marion's ladies salon and Allen Foster's quality meats. And then there's the North Pole pub which, I remember... ah, it's no more.
This pub on the corner of Latimer Road was rebuilt in 1892, as a flowery date on the chimneystack confirms. It thrived for over a century, with a decent reputation, until the summer of 2012 when it was bought up by Riding House Properties and suddenly closed. They stripped out the interior, leased the ground floor to Tesco and converted the upper floors to flats, whilst leaving the exterior pretty much alone. Today a security guard stands watch just inside the door, beers are canned rather than draught, and the freshly-served food option has been replaced by a stack of ready meals in a chiller. Local people probably find the building more useful as a result, but less fun.
Another casualty of the 21st century is the North Pole Post Office, no longer a place of festive postmark wonder but a counter shunted into the rear of a convenience store. William Hill have recently closed the street's only betting shop, but less sleep may be lost over that decision. Overall the retail mix suits the desirable Victorian terraces you can see and the poorer council estates you can't, indeed there are all day breakfasts to suit all budgets. The street suddenly changes name just beyond the Taste Buds sandwich bar, this being the invisible line where the stream and thus the borough boundary used to run. St Quintin Avenue may boast fine villas and a brazen daytime fox, but its seasonal relevance is nil, so my report ends here.
Rudolph Road NW6
Though only half as long as North Pole Road, this street in Kilburn also manages to straddle two boroughs. The east side is in Westminster and the west in Brent, one flank packed with interest, the other seemingly devoid. You might know the area, it's just around the corner from Kilburn Park tube station, where all the KP-bound buses park up so their drivers can have a chat. But officially that's Cambridge Gardens, and we need Rudolph Road, and that starts where the trees stop. [1896 map][2019 map]
The Brent side is currently 100% building site, sheathed in sheeting, with red cranes rising from its midst. This used to be one end of the South Kilburn estate, a 60s warren of flats and towers now undergoing wholesale demolition and rebirth. Gloucester House and Durham Court is phase 3b, replacing 209 flats with 235 new-build units, just under half for decanted former residents and just over half for private sale. The first homes should be ready next summer, and in 2021 the unrelenting balconies and brickwork will be softened by an abundance of cherry trees, if the architects' drawings are to be believed.
The Westminster side of Rudolph Road is bordered by St Augustine's Church of England High School, an 1880s establishment in a 1960s building, and Bradley Wiggins' alma mater. Normally you wouldn't be able to just wander in, but on Saturdays a small admission fee gets you into the playground for the weekly car boot sale. All the basketball hoops get pushed aside to make way for racks of blouses, assorted sunglasses, tables of unwanted presents and other assorted jumble. I arrived at clearing-up time as final deals over lampstands were being haggled over, and all the unsold stock went back into boxes to reappear next week.
A short stub of Rudolph Road continues across Kilburn Park Road, just long enough to include the entrance to one of London's finest parish churches. St Augustine's is sometimes known as the cathedral of North London, its Gothic interior reminiscent of the 13th century despite being totally Victorian, and its 250 foot spire towering above the entire district. Thomas Hardy was a enormous fan, and Simon Jenkins still is. Normally you wouldn't be able to just wander in and goggle openly, but an Advent marketplace in aid of the organ restoration fund was held last weekend with cakes and jams and bric a brac... if only I'd arrived quarter of an hour earlier. I missed out big time.
Rudolph Road used to run a little further, down to Carlton Vale and the entrance to Paddington Recreation Ground, until a different postwar estate intruded. Now flat-roofed blocks encircle pigeony lawns, still named on the side in the original 70s lettering, with a busy footpath on the original alignment weaving inbetween. And it ends opposite a building you likely saw in the news, the Carlton Tavern, illegally demolished over the Easter weekend in 2015. Westminster council ordered the conniving developer to "recreate in facsimile the building as it stood immediately prior to its demolition", and nearly five years later it looks substantially complete. Charringtons Sparkling Ales and Famous Stout, alas, may never return.
I shouldn't let the year go by without bringing you some of the misguided marketing emails that have arrived in my inbox in 2019.
I don't get many these days, either because marketingfolk have got the message or because blogging is a niche dead end these days grandad.
Here are ten such unsolicited communications. Let's see what variations on "I hope you are well" everyone's been using this year...
Hello There,
Hope you are doing well!
This is Cora, a passionate writer covering a wide range of topics like health, home improvement, fashion, automotive, environment, businesses, construction and many more. While surfing the Internet, I just found your website and it looks quite interesting to me.
I've also read most of your blog pieces and I'd like to contribute a post on your website.
I reminded Cora that there are there were 8146 posts on my blog, and I didn't believe she'd read "most" of them. Her response ("Waiting for your reply.") confirmed she didn't read her emails either.
Hello there,
I hope you’re really well.
I’m getting in touch on behalf of <London transport provider>. I help run their digital marketing campaigns, so I hope you don’t mind me dropping you a message, but I noticed that you’ve mentioned <London transport provider> on your website.
I just wondered if you wouldn’t mind adding a link to LondonTransportProvider.com from the pages where you have mentioned the company? It would be mutually beneficial for both of our websites as well as your readers, so we would appreciate it greatly!
I have indeed mentioned <London transport provider>, James, dozens of times. But I will not be trawling back through my archive to boost your SEO.
Looking for an Insta-worthy event this Autumn?
No, Kimberley, I am not.
Hi Diamond Geezer,
I was wondering if you would be able to promote a later life lending event we are promoting. The event is predominantly for London dwellers and property owners in the south east. Out of interest, how many people visit your blog for an average post?
I emailed back, post haste, to inform James that approximately 2500 people would not be reading his advert.
Hi
Hope you’re well :)
My name's Owain and I'm the owner of <small retail outlet>. I'm emailing to let you know about the shop, our regular Parties and the Park which has undergone an amazing redevelopment. I think what we are doing within our community, and the exciting improvements in the area would be of great interest to your audience. Please see below for our press release, social media details and Dropbox link to high-quality photos.
<1039 more words>
Please email me if you require further information.
No Owain, really, that was quite enough.
Two marble sculptures, currently on display at <Northern city> Art Gallery, could be formally added to <Northern city>’s museum collection if members agree to proposals at a meeting later this month...
Nobody in <Southern city> cares, sorry Megan.
Hello,
Hope this email finds you well.
We are writing to tell you about something we did this morning. We decided to rename some Santander Cycles docking stations around London - using eco-friendly stickers (of course). Why? Because we wanted to cheer on people that help improving the climate situation of the planet by making small but meaningful decisions everyday, like riding a bike.
The general consensus on Twitter was that <cycling project team> had misjudged their campaign spectacularly.
It has come to my attention that your website contains a link to a pdf showing the national rail map that has become erroneous. This link no longer works as the website no longer exists meaning the relevant information is no longer apparent as it was before.
As a matter of urgency, I would like to request that you update this link as soon as possible. The link that should replace this is <EnergyComparisonWebsite.com/map.pdf>
Please let me know when this has been completed. A member of our team will be making a follow-up call to ensure that it is handled effectively and efficiently.
I did not receive a follow-up call, so I think Carly may have been overstating the urgency of her request.
Dear media friends, please see the attached presser.
Sorry Mark, that went wrong at word three.
Hey there,
So, I loved all the tips on your blog. I’ve been a travel addict for a while and your site seems to have an interesting take on this topic. Love it!
Since I was little, I’ve always wanted to visit some of the biggest cities in the world and photograph what makes them so special and unique. Lately, London has been at the top of my list so I decided to reach out to some local guides and travel bloggers to see what advice they can give me ahead of my big trip.
I took all of that info and created this guide, which I feel would be of great value to your readers, particularly if it's included in your post.
It gave me great joy to tell Emily that her photo of "Oxford Street" was actually a photo of the high street in Oxford, 50 miles away. I did not hear from her again.
And if you have a product or service you're keen to plug, I hope not to hear from you either. Fingers crossed the marketing trickle dries up in 2020.
While all eyes have been on Westminster, the business of governing the capital has continued. Last week the Mayor launched the latest version of his London Plan, two years after putting the draft version out for consultation. We're now at the "Intend to Publish" stage, the final version before assent is given, the document now coming in at a meaty 622 pages. Once ratified it'll form the basis of long-term planning as far ahead as 2041, "a blueprint for future development and sustainable, inclusive growth".
When the draft came out I picked out six maps to show you, and from this latest version I'd like to show you six more. You can learn a lot about London from a map.
This is one of eight maps showing growth corridors spreading out from central London, in this case a segment running east along the Thames Estuary. Everything shaded mucky blue is an opportunity area, which in this case is the majority of the land. Eight numbered hotspots are shown, between them delivering another 127,000 homes by 2041 - the equivalent of one additional London borough. The Royal Docks and Beckton <2> is inner London's largest contributor, while London Riverside <3> along the fringes of Barking and Dagenham and Havering comfortably tops that. South of the river, even 20 years after the millennium there's still room for 17,000 more homes on the Greenwich peninsula. Across this estuary zone an extra 120,000 jobs would also be delivered, with the Royal Docks taking the lion's share, followed by London Riverside and Bexley Riverside <8>. Note the proposed Overground link between Barking and Thamesmead, with additional potential road crossings either side. [page 51]
This map shows the CAZ, or Central Activities Zone - the global centre of excellence which generates much of the UK's wealth. For planning purposes, everything within the solid red line is central London. The whole of the City and the West End is included, with fingers of development pushing out into Paddington, King's Cross and the East End. South of the river the growth areas of Nine Elms and Elephant & Castle are included, along with a swathe of the South Bank. Docklands is so important that it's had to be tacked on as a separate 'satellite', with Stratford and Old Oak Common lined up as potential office-space additions. The London Plan intends to promote and enhance the CAZ, as well as supporting the quarter of a million people who live here. I just like the idea of seeing precisely where it is. [page 80]
I also like this map, because I think it explains a heck of a lot about the capital. It shows London's Town Centre Network, a hierarchy of places where we work, shop and play. I've blogged about this before, with case studies, but I reckon this map's clearer than last time round. Knightsbridge and the West End are the sole examples of the International category, both absolute magnets for global travellers. After that come 14 Metropolitan centres, widely scattered, such as Uxbridge, Wood Green, Croydon and Romford. Most are some way from the centre, but Stratford and Shepherds Bush make the grade thanks to Westfield, and Docklands is in there too. The third rung down is Major centres, of which Wandsworth boasts 4 but Enfield, Barking & Dagenham and Bexley only 1. Below this come the more ubiquitous District centres, although you'll see there are several parts of the capital that don't even have easy access to one of those. I feel quite blessed where I live - you may not be so lucky. [page 99]
These are London's Strategic Industrial Locations. Not all Londoners work in services, some still have to make and manufacture things, hence the need for SILs to be strategically protected. It helps to co-locate industries wherever possible, so fewer people live within polluting distance, and also to ensure sites are close enough to transport networks and other infrastructure. The largest such industrial areas can be found downstream on the Thames, around Dagenham and Erith, where most of London never has to see them. Also highly significant is Park Royal in west London, with a further thread along the Grand Union Canal. The River Lea also really stands out, while that big blotch down south surrounds Beddington Lane. By contrast several inner London boroughs have zero SILs, while Richmond and Barnet are the only outer London industry-lite boroughs. [page 286]
This is great, this is listed buildings per square kilometre. Ignore the white symbols along the Thames, they're London's four World Heritage Sites at Kew, Westminster, the Tower of London and Greenwich. The red areas are Scheduled Monuments, for example Barking Abbey, Fulham Palace, Grim's Dyke and the WW2 fighter pens at Kenley airfield. Instead look at the shades of purple, where the darkest colour means over 350 listed buildings per square kilometre and the lightest means less than five. Most of the 'history' is concentrated in the centre, because that's where London began, with tentacles stretching out towards Hampstead and Greenwich. Ancient settlements in Richmond, Kingston and Chipping Barnet also register, as does Harmondsworth just north of Heathrow. Meanwhile a listed desert spreads east of Barking, and south of Bromley, and there's not much going on in Brent either. Much of suburbia was once nothing more than fields. [page 319]
Finally, let me show you the Green Belt and Metropolitan Open Land. Not much of London is Green Belt, because this was originally prescribed as a ring around the capital, but substantial portions of what's now Hillingdon, Havering and Bromley fall within. The London Plan confirms that development proposals which would harm the Green Belt "should be refused", and its de-designation "will not be supported". Metropolitan Open Land is less familiar but is separately designated at a local level. It includes, for example, Mitcham Common, Hounslow Heath and several green corridors around Greenwich. Tower Hamlets has virtually none. Richmond has plenty. Importantly MOL is afforded the same status and level of protection as Green Belt, and its boundaries should only be changed "in exceptional circumstances". All of this still leaves an awful lot of London clear for development... it's just that most of that is built on already. So many maps tell a story, but the London Plan's maps also help set the future. [page 357]
Ever seen a problem in the street and wanted someone to do something about it? A smashed bus shelter, a blocked cycle lane, a broken traffic light? Various councils already have apps and FixMyStreet pages which allow citizens to alert them to various outdoor issues. Now TfL is upping its game with an interactive webpage called Street Care, powered by mysociety.org's FixMyStreet platform, allowing Londoners to submit issues and scrutinise those of others.
Say an errant lamppost spurs you into action. Enter a streetname, or allow the website to trace you, then click on the map to specify the precise location. There are several categories to choose from, including Roadworks, Mobile Crane Operation, Trees, Street Lighting and Road, Cycleway & Footway Defects. Provide a snappy summary of your issue, maybe upload some photos to show precisely what you mean, then provide a fuller account of what's wrong. Finish off by giving some contact details, or decide to proceed anonymously, and your civic duty is complete.
TfL should then spring into action, or at least whoever's processing the feed should forward the issue to the relevant body. Some sort of triage system is in operation, as the unseen minion decides whether your problem is actionable, urgent or for later consideration. When it works, as I've seen this afternoon, the fix can be very fast indeed.
Yesterday lunchtime somebody anonymous - not me - submitted a report about a blocked cycleway outside Mile End station. Electricity contractors are digging up the segregated lane this week, forcing cyclists to enter left-turning traffic, but without any advance notice of disruption ahead. It's precisely the kind of aberration the Fix My Street system was designed to alleviate, with the added benefit that TfL are now properly listening. Within 90 minutes a positive response was posted.
...and two hours later everything was sorted. The roadworks were still there, of course, but now with two warning signs placed in the cycleway where they always should have been. One red sign said 'Cycle Lane Closed', the other 'Cyclists Dismount'. Cyclists aren't going to dismount, obviously, but neither are they going come into close contact with a wall of barriers nobody warned them about. Job done.
Further good news comes from the Coles Crescent bus shelter in South Harrow, where "Our routine inspections had already picked up this issue and it has been resolved". A collapsed manhole near Tower Gateway was duly given a one hour deadline for urgent repair. Naughty posters of Boris Johnson stuck to a bus shelter at Bexleyheath Clock Tower on election day were deemed 'offensive' and removed. It sounds effective.
Then there are numerous issues, quite a lot of them in fact, which are listed as sorted when they probably aren't. For example a 2ft pothole with 13cm depth eastbound A406 was assigned the label FIXED when the accompanying message is actually...
A manhole overflowing, flooding TfL pedestrian subway received the similarly positive message "This will be made safe within 24 hours or sooner." but was labelled FIXED at that point, not when the work was completed. A blocked drain in Roehampton Vale was given a four hour deadline instead, but was still FIXED up front. A Sofa Dumped (in Hither Green) was tagged FIXED despite its displayed status being INVESTIGATING. And a Pedestrian “wait” button not always working in Ealing was designated FIXED in 12 minutes flat, after having been faulty for a month, despite that timeframe being technically impossible.
FIXED appears to be the default response to numerous submitted issues, when in fact all that's happened is that they've been PROCESSED. Somebody at the sharp end in customer service has taken a decision on how to respond and who to pass the problem on to, and at that point the system thinks job done. FIXED is a poor choice of label in the circumstances, especially because the Street Care website generally provides no further evidence of anything being completed. It makes for a dismissive user experience, not one that gives faith that anything's getting done.
Meanwhile it turns out that only 5% of London's road network comes under the direct control of TfL - for the rest you should be speaking to the council. For example, an overflowing litter bin in Thornton Heath generated the response "This is not the responsibility of Transport for London. However, your local borough will be able to help you." The Street Care website provides no indication as to which roads are TfL's responsibility and which are not, which means 95% of the time your issues may be mistargeted. Everything's based on the FixMyStreet platform so I think most issues are passed on to the appropriate public body, but this is rarely made clear.
And don't get your hopes up about bus misinformation. Street Care will deal with smashed shelters and tilted bus stops, but not incorrect tiles or missing timetables. Someone in Bow tried "No information stating the bus stop is closed due to diversion on route 8" last week, only to be told "Your report has been investigated by our team and unfortunately it cannot be resolved through Street Care. Please contact our customer services team on 0343 222 1234 or by using this web form who will be able to help you with this query."
Unbelievably Street Care isn't able to pass on these operational issues to TfL's Bus Stop Team, you have to do it yourself, greatly increasing the chance you won't bother. They can tell gas contractors and council works departments but they can't inform themselves, because they've co-opted somebody else's platform which doesn't mesh with their own systems. Instead you need to go direct to the longstanding form on a non-interactive bit of the website, after which the Bus Stop Team will likely spring into inaction as per usual.
So I won't be telling Street Care that the 25 tile at Bus Stop M is incorrect and has been for over a year, because it's not for that, and they wouldn't listen anyway. But if you've spotted a duff manhole cover, a malfunctioning pedestrian crossing or an obstructed superhighway, why not make a positive change to your local environment today?
It's finally here - the long-promised day that Crossrail connects east and west London! Theysaid they'd have the full network up and running on Sunday 15th December 2019, and now here we are.
The inaugural through train from Abbey Wood departed at 0632 this morning, destination Reading. Only a handful of passengers were on board, for which we can blame the ungodly hour, but also the fact that purple trains out of Abbey Wood have become entirely commonplace over the last year. We've all ridden Crossrail under London now, enough times to take it entirely for granted, but I wanted to be aboard the first train to finally complete the entire project. Bexley to Berkshire... job done.
Abbey Wood is very quiet early on a Sunday morning, long before anybody need be up. But the sleek 9-car train is waiting when I arrive, its seven-letter destination glowing on the display screen for the very first time. I walk up the platform to select one of the rare forward-facing seats - what a treasured possession they've become since the line opened last December - and will be hogging my window view all the way to Reading. My paper ticket is in my top pocket (I have no intention of wasting an extra 40p by going contactless), and suddenly the familiar beep sounds and the doors close. The future has begun!
Several trains are lit up in the Plumstead depot, ready to transport those who come after us, as we start to descend ever-so gradually below ground. The cavernous platforms of Woolwich await us, where I don't think any other passengers are waiting but it's hard to see through the unyielding wall of glass. One subterranean Crossrail warren looks like any other subterranean Crossrail warren when viewed from a train, but you know this because it's a view you'll have seen dozens of times already.
With a swoosh we're off beneath the river, destination Newham. There isn't much to see on the other side, partly because it's still dark, but mostly because of the defensive wall they built through North Woolwich which prevents anyone seeing in or out. At Custom House a few scattered lights are lit in bedrooms at the Ibis alongside. At Canary Wharf the escalators bleed through in that jaundiced shade of yellow everyone hates - perhaps the Evening Standard's campaign will eventually be successful. One or two passengers step aboard, spreading themselves along the train, but overall this inaugural journey might as well not be happening.
It was only in May that the spur from Shenfield was connected up to Crossrail's central section at a junction beneath the city farm in Stepney. What a difference that's made, you can even get a seat on the Central line in the rush hour these days. It's also meant everybody heading east has to check the destinations on the electronic displays more carefully, but that hasn't been a problem heading west... until today. Whitechapel is deathly quiet, most likely because the District and Hammersmith & City lines are closed this morning until half past ten. Indeed there are still acres of empty seats aboard... TfL's suits (and the Mayor) aren't due to ride until the press junket tomorrow morning.
Can it really be a year since Geoff's viral video demonstrating how it was suddenly possible to walk between successive Circle line stations via Crossrail platforms? The tube map between Liverpool Street and Farringdon still looks like a plumbers' nightmare, but at least we all remember which end of the train to sit by now. From this weekend it's the Reading extension we have to get used to, a purple beast freshly crammed onto the map beneath Uxbridge. Have you seen how they've squeezed it in and bent it round? What were they thinking?
Tottenham Court Road station, even from the train, is ablaze with numerous sponsors' messages. The first eight Crossrail sponsors have had their twelve months, imprinting Mastercard, Sky, Amazon and BMW on London's collective memory. Now Vodafone, HSBC and Adidas are taking their turn, keen to jump aboard the bandwagon of a successful transport brand. Even the posters inside the train have been updated, not that I have any intention of rushing out and buying a Rolex watch any time soon. Then comes Bond Street, the perfectly-constructed station whose date of completion was never in doubt, and then the really new bit happens.
Up until today every westbound train has turfed off all its passengers at Paddington. No more! From today approximately half of these trains are going through the new tunnels via the new connection on the new through route, linking east and west for the very first time. The new link means the railway's reached its final state, which means Crossrail is 100% complete, and bang on time! One or two late night revellers look bemused, while a gaggle of traingeeks at the front of the train appear rather more excited. This isn't the first train through the tunnels - five services to Heathrow have already slipped through - but I had no interest in going there.
At seven o'clock precisely we make a perfectly punctual departure. I have to report that the new tunnels look nothing special, other than a quick glimpse of a crossover and a few trains in the darkness ready to return east. But ooh, this is much better than that annoying schlep we've had to endure these last twelve months from the lower level platforms up to the surface and across the mainline station. It's a gamechanger for cross-town traffic, and a big win for passenger convenience. Somewhere close to Royal Oak we rise up, and shuffle across, and then a familiar journey continues on the surface.
No, we are not serving Acton Main Line because trains don't stop here on Sundays, nor at West Ealing, nor at Hanwell. You must know this by now. It's dark anyway, so we could be passing anywhere, although the lights of Ealing Hospital are clearly visible from the Wharncliffe viaduct. Southall eventually arrives, and then at Hayes & Harlington a horde of passengers pour on after changing off the Heathrow train (no, I'm lying, the platforms are equally dead out here). But how marvellous that all these revamped stations are ready on time, complete with fresh entrances, new footbridges and full step-free facilities. Total completion was never in doubt.
West Drayton's next, the last Oyster-valid station, after which we exit London becoming the very first train from Bexley to Bucks. Welcome to Iver, which overnight has become Crossrail's least used station. When there are commuter towns bursting for a supersonic rail connection to the West End, it seems incredible that this minor village has been gifted one instead. Langley ought to be slightly livelier, if not at 7.24am. It feels somewhat surreal to be pulling into Slough aboard a TfL service, half an hour after leaving Bond Street, but that's the new reality. Change here for trains to Windsor, except it's still too early so they haven't started yet.
A peculiarity of the first westbound Crossrail train on a Sunday morning is that it doesn't stop at Burnham or Taplow. Rest assured all the later ones do, indeed residents of Taplow didn't used to have any Sunday services before today, so the arrival of Crossrail is a thrilling innovation. By Maidenhead the sky is brightening, revealing office towers and commuter rooftops - no TfL service has ever been this far west before. Ahead is the longest gap between any two adjacent TfL stations, a full seven miles, as we speed past acres and acres of muddy fields on the way to Twyford. Just one last graze of the River Thames will do it, as this incredible journey draws to an end.
We pull into Reading at 0752, an hour and twenty minutes after leaving Abbey Wood, which is phenomenal. Its sleek metal escalators are reminiscent of the Crossrail stations we've left behind, but way out here we're firmly in Great Western territory. A cluster of excitable teenagers are waiting with cameras raised, but otherwise our remarkable arrival goes pretty much unmarked. And that's it, the purple line to Reading is now complete, the multi-billion pound project coming in on time and on budget. What an astonishing achievement. So make sure you climb aboard soon, now that Crossrail's done, and let's get started on Crossrail 2...
21:59 The polls close in one minute's time. Is Boris Johnson heading for a famous victory, or has Jeremy Corbyn inspired a Labour surge that'll hold him in check? It'll be the former, most likely, unless... 22:00 Bloody hell, that's massive. The exit poll shows the Conservatives on 368 seats, which is a comfortable majority of 86, and a convincing victory however the margin of error falls. 22:01 So that's Corbyn humiliated, and Labour stuffed, totally. 22:02 So that's Brexit getting done, next month, end of. 22:03 So that's the climate emergency ignored. 22:04 So that's the pound shooting upwards. 22:05 So we can all go to bed now. 22:10 Howls of despair online, alongside jubilant cheers. 22:45 Blyth Valley should have declared by now, because the North East likes to be first. Instead there are murmurings of a recount. 23:00 Everyone's stopped saying "if the results of the exit poll are correct". 23:04 Everyone's stopped talking about the Liberal Democrats. 23:30 The former mining community of Blyth Valley has gone Tory by 700 votes. The new MP thanks the returning officer, and thanks Boris. 23:55 Two hours ago nobody was quite sure where this was going. The Conservatives' triumph is now retrospectively obvious. 00:15 Seats that have been Labour-held for decades are predicted to turn blue across Wales, the Midlands and the North. Candidates are openly pointing the finger at Jeremy Corbyn and the party's position on Brexit. 01:00 The swing in the first few declared seats isn't quite as high as the exit poll suggested. But it's still very high. 01:20 Workington Man has indeed switched to the Conservatives, overturning a 4000 Labour majority with a 4000 Tory one. 01:55 ...but Putney has switched from blue to red, suggesting London may be swimming against the national tide. 02:20 Momentum are blaming Brexit, not Jeremy and his policies. Tories are thanking Jeremy and his policies. 02:40 Results are coming in thick and fast. The Conservatives (63) now have more seats than Labour (60). 02:45 The DUP are paying the price for propping up Theresa May, and losing seats to a co-ordinated opposition. 02:55 In Cities of London and Westminster, a split opposition (13000/12000) has allowed the Conservatives to slip through and win (17000). 03:00 The first update to the exit poll predicts the Conservatives will get 357 MPs (a majority of 64). 03:10 Nobody has mentioned it's Friday The Thirteenth yet. 03:20 Jeremy Corbyn, after winning his Islington North seat, says he won't lead his party into another General Election. Simultaneously, the Conservatives snatch Tony Blair's former seat of Sedgefield. 03:40 Boris Johnson is comfortably re-elected in Uxbridge. His victory speech repeats all of his campaign's soundbites. Standing alongside, Lord Buckethead beats Count Binface. 03:45 The SNP defeats Lib Dem party leader Jo Swinson by just 149 votes. 04:00 Prediction is back up to 362 (maj 74). 04:20 Brighton retains its Green MP, and she is angry. 04:25 Kensington remains ultra-marginal, but is now marginally blue. And there's my constituency at last, with Labour taking 73% of the vote. 04:30 The red wall in the north has crumbled. The red island in London remains. 04:40 Wales - more Tory. Northern Ireland - less DUP. Scotland - very SNP. 04:45 With fewer than 90 seats left to declare, mostly in the shires, the Conservatives pass 300. 05:00 The Independent Group For Change, and most of the wetter Tories, have vanished from sight. 05:05 And that's 326 seats, and that's an overall majority, and that's five years of Boris. Now, how long can I sleep?
08:15 Things look much the same in daylight, with the Conservatives 12% ahead, much as the polls suggested. 08:30 Following the endlessly-repeated success of 'Get Brexit Done', the new buzzphrase looks like being 'The People's Government'. 09:00 This is a Conservative victory delivered by Leave voters who'd never voted Conservative before. 09:30 The final majority looks like being 80. Most predictions on this blog yesterday clumped around 0-40. Nobody got closer than 68 (well done Luke).
On polling day, let's have a sweepstake on the size of the Conservative majority.
Pick a number, add it to this → comments box and tomorrow we'll see who's closest. comments
n.b. If you don't think the Conservatives are going to get a majority, go negative.
n.b. Because of the way subtraction works, pick an even number.
n.b. Try not to choose a number anyone else has picked.
n.b. Just one number, without extra waffle, thanks.
n.b. Please don't leave the name box empty.
n.b. Polling closes at 9.59pm.
Size of the Conservative majority - (your guesses)
-44
-30
-20
-22
-24
-26
-28
-10
-11
-12
-13
-14
-16
-18
-2
-3
-4
-5
-6
-7
-8
-9
0
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
36
38
40
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
50
51
52
54
58
60
62
66
68
If you'd rather discuss the mathematics of majorities, or howl into the electoral void, or drone on telling other voters how wrong they are, use the comments box below for that.
One of the benefits of a five week election campaign is that the Houses of Parliament have no business to complete so their restaurants are empty. It wouldn't do to send the catering staff home, so instead they open up their tables to private bookings. Both the Members' Dining Room and Peers' Dining Room take part, so pick your chamber and pick your date (Nov 12th - Dec 13th (excluding Dec 9, 10 and weekends)).
BestMate chose the Peers' Dining Room, and yesterday. The elected house on the day of the actual election might have been more appropriate, but I was delighted to be spending my 20,000th day eating lunch somewhere really special. BestMate'sParents and BestMate'sOtherHalf came too.
Getting inside the Palace of Westminster isn't hard, so long as you don't mind airport-style security. Getting inside the Peers' Dining Room is a little trickier and requires a booking reference, a bit of a walk and 'smart casual' clothing. Do not wear trainers. Gentlemen, ensure your shirt is collared. If you've never been inside the palace before, as BestMate'sParents hadn't, the walk through Westminster Hall into Gothic splendour is damned impressive. Now put your phone away, because photography is not allowed.
From first contact in Central Hall to the clearing away of the plates, it's clear that Peers' Dining Room staff are warm, friendly and very courteous. Expect to be called m'lord or m'lady, with a glint in the eye, even though everyone knows damned well you're just a member of the public taking advantage of an electoral gap.
No snooty coat check is provided, just a rack of hooks wheeled into the corridor which doubles up as part of the Peers' Library. The shelves along each wall are stuffed with useful books rather than vintage volumes, including a history of the KGB and another of the SAS, covering all bases.
Be sure to enjoy the opportunity of a drink in the Peers' Guest Room before you dine. Small cosy tables offer a view of the river Thames, a hearty fireplace, a giant oil painting or a wall covered in red flock wallpaper, depending on orientation. The bar menu is reasonably priced, as befits a public service institution, including a gin for under £3 and cocktails for under ten.
The Peers' Dining Room is a sumptuous L-shaped space with space for 80 covers, we were told, and faces an internal courtyard rather than the river. Its ceiling comprises numerous painted panels adorned with arms and fruit, but the real eye-grabber is the original herringbone wallpaper designed by the architect Augustus Pugin. Its pattern of crowned flowers on an off-yellow background would be too in-your-face for most dining rooms but looks perfect here.
I'd worn some proper trousers and got my black shoes out of retirement, but still felt a little underdressed compared to the other diners. A lot were men in suits, some were ladies who lunch, and others middle-aged couples at least one of whom looked like they worked in government. The set price of £50 per person perhaps pre-selects the clientele somewhat, but the waiting staff were just as nice to us as to them, and our dining experience was never the slightest bit uncomfortable.
The menu is firmly British with the emphasis on regional ingredients, conjured up onto the plate in modern style. This month's Public Dining Experience offers four well dressed starters (one broth, one salmon, one crab and one Waldorf salad with a celery panna cotta). My fish arrived on a disc of pressed cucumber floating in assorted creams and dollops, plus a black confection we later deduced was pumpernickel. As for the accompanying bread basket, none of us had ever experienced egg-shaped Marmite butter before. The others generally approved.
For the main course I resisted the Christmas turkey option as a tad too obvious, plumping instead for a half-plate of confit Aylesbury duck with artfully-arranged beets and pickled blackberries. It was rich and succulent, but a glance to my left confirmed that what I should have ordered was the haunch of venison. Those who plumped for the hunk of cod or frothy lemon sole were well pleased with their selection. It fell to the foreign-born member of the party to point out that on the menu Brussel sporuts had been misspelled.
What a pleasure to enjoy a meal in a room where nobody had their phone out and where every plate went unphotographed - like a trip back to the 20th century. It was a little odd to have to ask to go to the toilet, but wandering willy-nilly through the corridors of power isn't allowed so every loo visit has to be escorted. I made sure to look round while I was eating to remind myself what an utterly atypical restaurant this was, and tried to imagine all the lords and ladies who might have sat on my red leather chair before me.
For dessert my Shropshire take on blackberry and apple was tasty but insubstantial, a victory for style over substance, whereas nobody had a bad word to say about the cherry ice cream coated in smooth chocolate ganache. Finally came the teas and coffees and trays of petit fours, and you know you're having a posh meal when those appear. We could have washed all this down with a glass of heavily subsidised vintage port, but the sun had already set and the staff looked like they were probably ready to go home.
On the way out we declined a visit the House of Lords' gift shop, where we could have purchased an iced Christmas cake for £15. Instead we somehow managed to sweet talk a security guard into allowing us a quick look inside the Commons chamber, a room which which bowls me over every time because it's like walking onto a TV set and the centre of our democracy. Today we'll all be out voting for who gets to sit on its green benches, and thereby confirming the destiny of our nation. Pick carefully. Don't be the one who regrets ordering the duck.
Today is my 20,000th day on Earth.
It's quite a milestone.
I'm going out for a celebratory meal.
People don't normally celebrate round numbers of days, only multiples of years, although you could argue days are even more significant. And why stop there? How about marking special numbers of months, hours, minutes or even seconds? Any excuse for a party.
To save you the hassle of excess mathematics this webpage will calculate all those special dates for you. For example I was one and a half billion seconds old on Wednesday 19th September 2012, and I'm going to be half a million hours old on Wednesday 23rd March 2022.
As a helpful overview I've compiled this summary list to show which special anniversaries crop up at which age. I've emboldened the dozen I think are the most significant. Maybe you've got one of your own coming up soon.
19:ten million minutes, one thousand weeks 22: two hundred thousand hours 27:ten thousand days 31:one billion seconds 34: three hundred thousand hours 38: twenty million minutes, two thousand weeks 41: fifteen thousand days 45: four hundred thousand hours 47: one and a half billion seconds 54:twenty thousand days 57: thirty million minutes, half a million hours, three thousand weeks 63:two billion seconds 68: six hundred thousand hours, twenty five thousand days 76: forty million minutes, four thousand weeks 79: two and a half billion seconds, seven hundred thousand hours 82:thirty thousand days 83:one thousand months 91: eight hundred thousand hours 95:three billion seconds, fifty million minutes, five thousand weeks
My 10,000th day was a Saturday, and was (obviously) half my life ago. It's also the only day in my life I woke up in Northampton and went to bed in Luton. And because I keep a diary, I remember it in ridiculously fine detail.
Saturday 25th July 1992 kicked off very much as the morning after the night before. That had involved beers and barbecued venison sausages at the Olde Coach House Inn in Ashby St Ledgers, a small village close to Watford Gap, before crashing out in bed on the outskirts of Northampton. I was woken around 10am with a cup of tea, a bowl of cornflakes and a glass of orange juice, but probably not a kiss because of morning breath. Congratulations, you've caught me halfway through my very first relationship, which clocked in at all of five weeks.
All the clues were there that it wasn't going to last, not just the repeated sneaking off to the bathroom for a cigarette, but also the underlying preference for a good cuddle over and above anything more intimate. That morning I spent a long time alone on the sofa while bathroom ablutions were completed, after which any prospective plans for the day were wiped out by the comment "ah right, now I've got to get on". I was duly driven back home to Bedford, with DLT playing on the car radio, my offer of a cuppa turned down in favour of a "more urgent" trip to Sainsbury's.
Once indoors the first thing I did was ring my brother. He'd sent me a postcard in the week confirming that his girlfriend had moved in, and was wondering how our parents would take the news. It turns out they'd taken it well. I didn't mention where I'd spent the night, which was for the best because my relationship had 20 days left and his is still going strong 10,000 days later. Then I went out and bought a newspaper and a bag of chips, liberally doused in vinegar, and ate those while catching up on Brookside and Eldorado which I'd recorded earlier. What a time to be alive.
Then in the evening I took the train to Luton for an amateur pop quiz. My friend Steve was hosting at his house, on Russell Street, and while we waited for the other contestants to arrive we watched the opening ceremony of the Barcelona Olympics. I ended up in the team with Mike and Hazel, on the sofa nearest to the bowl of crisps, and soon we were three thousand points behind. I was better on the audio rounds than the video questions, because I'd taken the narcissistic decision to leave my glasses at home so couldn't see any fine on-screen detail. I was even worse at Pictionary.
The quiz went on and on, deep into day 10,001, but not even a 1980s round could sneak our team into the lead. Ah well. We moved on to playing Mousetrap, and waiting for a wine box that'd been stored in the freezer to defrost. Finally around half past three I went to bed in the lodger's room, which was fine because he was on shift reading the news on a local commercial radio station. Reading back now, I cannot believe how atypically packed my Day 10,000 was. Better still, I'm chuffed to note that I recognised it was my 10,000th day at the time, having spotted its significance pre-internet using just a calendar and pocket calculator.
Day 10,001 proved additionally significant because it was the day that persuaded me to give contact lenses a go. I'd enjoyed going spec-less for the weekend, and Steve reassured me that he'd been using them for years, so I decided I really ought to take the plunge. On Day 10,002 I went to Vision Express and got fitted for contact lenses, and on Day 10,003 I learned how to take them out, and after that I never looked back. Then Day 10,004 was my first ever trip to a nudist beach and Day 10,005 was the first time I got bad sunburn, but those are tales for another time.
Day 20,000 won't be so wild, but my celebratory meal is booked in somewhere very special indeed. I then face a very long wait until Day 30,000, which if I'm lucky should be just after my eighty-second birthday. My Dad reaches Day 30,000 this time next year. Maybe you could check out when your next milestone birthday is, and stick an alarm in your online calendar so when it finally comes round you won't forget.
Vote2019: The morning after
