Whilst there's (rightly) been a lot of fuss about how poor theBowRoundabout is for cyclists, let's not forget it's also a death trap for pedestrians. Built as a motorwayjunction circa 1970, the Bow Interchange was never designed for easy crossing on foot. But with the Olympic Park and Lower Lea Valley blocking alternative routes to the east, anyone trying to travel between Bow and Stratford has little choice but to pass this way. Two major roads cross here, with a total of eight sliproads to negotiate. The four entry roads have traffic lights but not pedestrian signals (the blue arrows on the map below) (safe-ish). Meanwhile the four exit roads have no aids to crossing at all (the brown arrows on the map below) (very unsafe). Here the car is king, and local pedestrians all but ignored.
Let me take you through one complete anti-clockwise circuit of the roundabout, starting outside the McDonalds drive-through, to show you how dangerous it is. You might want to follow on this Google map. And TfL planners, you might want to take notes.
1) Bow Roundabout West to Bow Roundabout South (across the A11, under the flyover) 1a) Eastbound sliproad from A11: This is fairly easy to cross on foot. There's no pedestrian signal, but all traffic stops at a red light for about 75% of every 50 second cycle. This gives plenty of time to stroll over, so long as you don't start out just before the light turns green, which it does with no warning, so beware. 1b) Westbound sliproad to A11: This is not at all easy to cross. Traffic streams off the roundabout at all times, so you have to judge best when there's a gap and nip across. If you're lucky then approaching cars will signal that they're continuing round the roundabout, leaving the sliproad clear, but accurate use of indicators can't be guaranteed. If you're too old or infirm to be able to break into a run, when necessary, then it's probably best not to risk it. If you're in a wheelchair, then you'd never dare cross here. Shortest alternative safe crossing: From McDonalds walk up the pavement past St Mary's Church to the pedestrian crossing by the Gladstone statue. Cross to the centre by the church gates, then take the second pedestrian crossing to the other side of Bow Road. Next use the zebra crossing at the top of Bromley High Street, then walk down the pavement to the Bow Roundabout. Total diversion time: 6½ minutes.
2) Bow Roundabout South to Bow Roundabout East (across the A12, above the underpass) 2a) Northbound sliproad from A12: This is fairly easy to cross on foot. There's no pedestrian signal, but all traffic stops at a red light for about 75% of every 50 second cycle. This gives plenty of time to stroll over, so long as you don't start out just before the light turns green, which it does with no warning, so beware. 2b) Southbound sliproad to A12: This is not at all easy to cross. Traffic streams off the roundabout at all times, so you have to judge best when there's a gap and nip across. If you're lucky then approaching cars will signal that they're continuing round the roundabout, leaving the sliproad clear, but accurate use of indicators can't be guaranteed. If you're too old or infirm to be able to break into a run, when necessary, then it's probably best not to risk it. If you're in a wheelchair, then you'd never dare cross here. Shortest alternative safe crossing: Walk south to the exit from Bromley High Street. This isn't entirely safe, but if there is any emerging traffic then it usually stops. Continue to the subway opposite Tesco, then pass through to emerge opposite the aforementioned supermarket. Cross Hancock Road, looking carefully to check that no traffic's coming, then walk north along the pavement to the Bow Roundabout. Total diversion time: 9 minutes.
3) Bow Roundabout East to Bow Roundabout North (across the A118, below the flyover) 3a) Westbound sliproad from A118: This is fairly easy to cross on foot. There's no pedestrian signal, but all traffic stops at a red light for about 75% of every 50 second cycle. This gives plenty of time to stroll over, so long as you don't start out just before the light turns green, which it does with no warning, so beware. Except hang on, what's this? 3b) Eastbound contraflow to Sugarhouse Lane: Yes, watch out, there's a contraflow lane here running along the southern edge of the flyover. Traffic's rare, but that makes speeding cars even more deadly when one does eventually come along. To cross at the lights requires blind faith that no vehicle will suddenly divert off the roundabout - you'll get only a few metres notice if one does. And there's a distinct hump in the edge of the pavement here - this is most definitely not a recommended crossing route. Maybe they want you to cross away from the traffic lights instead (that's 3a and 3b at the same time), but if you try that then beware of two-way traffic! 3c) Westbound contraflow from Marshgate Lane: And another contraflow lane, this time along the northern side of the flyover. There are no lights at the exit onto the roundabout, but there is a damned good view back towards Stratford so you'll easily see any traffic approaching. This one's safe... unless you forget it's there when crossing 3c and 3d at the same time, in which case the unexpected contraflow could easily kill you. Nearly has me. 3d) Eastbound sliproad to A118: This is not at all easy to cross. Traffic streams off the roundabout at all times, so you have to judge best when there's a gap and nip across. If you're lucky then approaching cars will signal that they're continuing round the roundabout, leaving the sliproad clear, but accurate use of indicators can't be guaranteed. If you're too old or infirm to be able to break into a run, when necessary, then it's probably best not to risk it. If you're in a wheelchair, then you'd never dare cross here. Shortest alternative safe crossing: Time to use the new floating towpath! Walk away from the roundabout, turning left past the Calor Gas depot down towards the River Lea. Turn left along the floating towpath underneath the main road (which is illuminated at all times, even if the approaches aren't). On reaching the new footbridge turn left, and back up the slope to return to the roundabout. Total diversion time: 3½ minutes Shortest alternative safe crossing after dark: Don't take the floating towpath route after dark. I tried this at 8pm last week, walking down an unlit path into a remote tunnel (where any crime would have gone wholly unseen), and it's probably the most unwise scary thing I've done all year. The 24-hour safe route involves walking up Stratford High Street as far as Abbey Lane, crossing that, then crossing the main road at new traffic lights, then walking back down Stratford High Street to the roundabout. It's a lengthy, but necessary, detour. Total diversion time: 12 minutes
4) Bow Roundabout North to Bow Roundabout West (across the A12, above the underpass) 4a) Southbound sliproad from A12: This is fairly easy to cross on foot. There's no pedestrian signal, but all traffic stops at a red light for about 75% of every 50 second cycle. This gives plenty of time to stroll over, so long as you don't start out just before the light turns green, which it does with no warning, so beware. 4b) Northbound sliproad to A12: This is not at all easy to cross. Traffic streams off the roundabout at all times, so you have to judge best when there's a gap and nip across. If you're lucky then approaching cars will signal that they're continuing round the roundabout, leaving the sliproad clear, but accurate use of indicators can't be guaranteed. If you're too old or infirm to be able to break into a run, when necessary, then it's probably best not to risk it. If you're in a wheelchair, then you'd never dare cross here. Shortest alternative safe crossing: Ah, now this is difficult. There's no pavement along the eastern side of this former motorway, nor any useful footbridge or subway anywhere nearby. Instead, walk down the slope to the towpath beside the River Lea and continue north for approximately one kilometre. Exit the towpath at the Greenway, then walk up the ramp, double back and cross the river. Walk ahead to the end of the Greenway, turn right onto Wick Lane, and then left at the mini-roundabout to cross the A12 via the footbridge. Walk along Old Ford Road to the traffic lights, then left to the end of Parnell Road. Use the two zebra crossings to reach Tredegar Road and then Fairfield Road, crossing the latter at the zebra crossing further down. On reaching Bow Road turn left, and continue past the church to the roundabout. Estimated total diversion time: 35 minutes
I hope that's given you some idea of how utterly pedestrian unfriendly the Bow Roundabout is. So unfriendly that people are compelled to dash across and hope. So unfriendly that to make a safe circumnavigation of the roundabout on foot would take over an hour. So unfriendly that I've even seen mums with pushchairs catch a bus to take them one stop from one side to the other, that's how unsafe they feel. And what have TfL been doing about it? Quite a lot, allegedly, but nothing concrete.
Question by John Biggs (18th May 2011): What progress has been made to provide safe pedestrian crossings at the Bow Flyover/roundabout on the A12? Answer by Boris Johnson: TfL has spent substantial effort looking at options for pedestrians crossings in this location and modelling various possible solutions. TfL have been unable so far to find an immediate solution for providing controlled at-grade pedestrian crossings at Bow Roundabout that does not push the junction over capacity and introduce significant delays to traffic. The feasibility of providing pedestrian crossings at the roundabout will continue to be investigated for the future.
None of the obvious solutions for improving the Bow Roundabout would work well. You can't build subways because there's an underpass. You can't build footbridges because there's a flyover. You can't add traffic lights at the four exits from the roundabout, because traffic would seize up. You could add zebra crossings at the four exits from the roundabout, except that would slow the flow of traffic and Boris won't have that. You could add an "all red" phase to the sequence of traffic lights at the roundabout, say once every 90 seconds, except that would seriously restrict the throughflow of traffic and cause major tailbacks, and be a complete waste of time if pedestrians weren't trying to cross, plus it could still take several minutes to walk from one side to the other. All deemed impossible, infeasible or impractical by TfL, so it seems.
And yet TfL are going to have to find a solution. They've promised an urgent review of the Bow roundabout in response to the recent death of two cyclists, and there'll be an outcry if it ignores pedestrians. Thousands of Olympic spectators will be heading this way next summer, intentionally or unintentionally, and it would never do to accidentally kill one.
So I'd like to offer a solution. It's "at-grade". It's cheap. And, best of all, it already works. All that's needed is to utilise the open space in the centre of the roundabout, beneath the flyover. Here's how.
There are currently eight sets of traffic lights at the Bow Roundabout, marked on this map with black arrows. Add a proper pedestrian crossing at each - red man, green man, dropped kerbs. That's all this solution needs. Two crossings will take anyone to the centre of the roundabout. And then two more crossings will take them to whichever other side they want to reach. Four crossings in total, via a safe route that already exists but isn't obvious. For example...
1*) Bow Roundabout West to Bow Roundabout South (across the A11, under the flyover) 1*a) Eastbound sliproad from A11: Pedestrian crossing one, from McDonalds to the concrete space beneath the flyover. The green man will be showing for 75% of the time. Easy. 1*b) Bow Roundabout West: Pedestrian crossing two, to the centre of the roundabout. Might be a bit of a wait, and there's only a short period to cross. 1*c) Bow Roundabout South: Pedestrian crossing three, to the pedestrian space above the underpass. Might be a bit of a wait, and there's only a short period to cross. 1*d) Northbound sliproad from A12: Pedestrian crossing four, to the Bromley-By-Bow side of the roundabout. The green man will be showing for 75% of the time. Easy.
Like I said, this already works. There are no green men to aid you on your way, but all the lights already turn red, and all the traffic already stops. It's just counter-intuitive, that the safest way to cross the roundabout isn't the most direct route, but via the huge bleak space in the centre. So why isn't this an ideal solution? Well, there are a few drawbacks...
i) Pedestrians are very bad at doing what they're told. Even though there's a safe route, most pedestrians will choose to ignore it, taking the existing (risky) quick route instead. ii) Inviting people to cross to the centre of the roundabout adds pedestrians where there aren't any at present. Any sudden increase in jaywalking would make the roundabout more dangerous, rather than less. iii) Metal barriers would need to be erected to constrain pedestrians to the approved routes, and to stop them running willy-nilly across the roundabout. Adding metal barriers isn't what Boris's TfL does - their policy is to aid choice and freedom by taking barriers away. iv) The Bow Roundabout is a key hub on the Olympic Route Network. The last thing Games organisers want is eight new pedestrian crossings on the ORN. v) These changes do nothing for bikes - nothing at all to improve the Cycle Superhighways.
Anyway, this is my solution. Eight pedestrian crossings attached to existing traffic lights, and a new safe refuge in the centre of the roundabout. It wouldn't cost much, and it wouldn't unduly affect existing traffic flow. Indeed, as I think I've already argued, the infrastructure already exists and the safe routes are already there. Obviously TfL will have considered this option and discarded it, otherwise they'd have introduced it by now. But I look forward to seeing what their alternative proposed solution at the Bow Roundabout is. Because nobody likes an appallingly-designed junction at the bottom of their road, and I'd rather not live near a death trap any longer than necessary.
There must be several posts on here that would make an ideal ten minute burst of presentational tedium at next year's Boring conference. Not that I would, obviously, but if I did...
1) The annual variation in the date of Easter Easter Day can fall on any Sunday between March 22nd and April 25th. The period between March 28th and April 20th is the most common, and any Easters outside that range are rather less frequent. The cycle of Easter dates repeats every 5,700,000 years. During this period, Easter falls on March 22nd only 27550 times (less than ½% of the total) but on April 19th 220400 times (nearly 4% of the total). Even if you're not particularly religious, the date of Easter affects the length of the Creme Egg season every year, which can be as long as 17 weeks (as in 2011) or as short as 12½ weeks (as in 2008). Look at this graph...
2) The redevelopment ofBow Road tube station (Feb 2004 - Oct 2005) My local tube station, Bow Road, was the first to be upgraded by Metronet as part of the PPP station upgrade programme. They took their time, delivering not very much very slowly, and squandering £3.3m of public money in the process. As a permanent record of this process I took notes and recorded all the daily changes to my blog. I think you'll find this very interesting...
Monday 9th February (Day 1): Four blue portakabins have appeared on the pavement outside the station. Tuesday 10th February: A blue wall has appeared in front of the four portakabins. It is made of metal. Tuesday 27th July: The top two layers of scaffolding across the passenger bridge are now covered by white sheeting. The new white sheeting is made from flame retardant fabric (satisfying "LPS 1215 standard"). Wednesday 1st September: In the absence of any apparent renovation work going at the station, I thought I'd report on the progress of the conkers on the horse chestnut tree outside the station instead. Sunday 20th March: Along the westbound platform I counted 24 security cameras and 28 microphones. Tuesday 2nd August (7:30am): Three policemen are standing in the glass-fronted control room in the ticket hall, presumably watching some of Bow Road's 75 new CCTV cameras. Friday 30th September: The second conker season looks to be drawing to a close. Friday 14th October (Day 614): The three blue portakabins on the pavement outside the station have been removed overnight.
3) London's four geographical extremities I thought I'd tell you about the times I visited the points in London that are the furthest north, south east and west. One's in a field, one's on a country lane, and two are on theM25. Think of it as an urban safari, following in the footsteps of Amundsen, Peary and Raleigh, but using equipment no more specialist than an Oyster card. Look, I've even taken some photos to show you...
4) The Count Every February, for reasons even I'm no longer sure about, I count things. It seemed a good idea at the time, anyway. What this means is that I have ten years of data about my life, in a variety of areas, which is ideal for turning into pretty graphs and spreadsheets. See how stable my daily tea consumption is. I think this pie chart of daily escalator usage is particularly illuminating. And then there's this table which looks like binary but is in fact the number of times I've...
5) Rail Replacement Safari One of the most boring, but enlightening, things I've ever done is to spend the entire day travelling on all of the different rail replacement buses in London...
6) The oldest food in my kitchen cupboards We all keep food for longer than we should. It looks appealing as we place it in our trolley, then it languishes forgotten at the back of the larder for years. But even though many sell-by dates are purely for convenience, the contents of any packet or tin are likely to be less tasty the longer they're kept. So I've rifled though my kitchen cupboards to find the ten foodstuffs that are most out of date, and here they are on the table. What's first up? » Microwaveable Apple and Cinnamon Sponge Pudding (320g) [use by Nov 2002]. Ah, do you remember the days when 'microwaveable' was a) still novel b) a selling point?
7) Olympic pin badges You'd be amazed by the number of different inanimate objects that appear, for no particularly good reason, on London 2012 Olympic pin badges...
8) Installed by cretins It never fails to amaze me how TfL manage to install so many next train indicators where people can't see them. At the far end of platforms, stuffed into alcoves, and especially blocked by "Way Out" signs and security cameras. I've put together this slideshow for you, starting with the northbound Piccadilly line platform at Holborn where the next two trains are going to Cock...
James Ward: Clement Freud goes through the Customs James is the conference organiser, and he has a lot of early back copies of Whichmagazine. The very first review was for electric kettles, in which the top three were made by GEC, Swan and Russell Hobbs. Adjusting for inflation, the Swan would cost £30 more today than the most expensive kettle in the Argos catalogue. In a later test, scientists inverted ballpoint pens inside an oven heated to 90°F to simulate regular use inside a suit jacket pocket. Which magazine also deemed it "maddening" that so many cereal packets topple over due to excess empty volume (although Sunnybisk and Shredded Wheat were both commended for not doing this).
Tim Steiner: Hand Dryers - a beginners guide There are three different kinds of hand dryer, as you will now notice every time you visit a public washroom. Warm air dryers, for example the ubiquitous World Dryer A48, remove more moisture by blowing than heating. Jet air dryers are considerably noisier (90dB for the Excel Xlerator, as opposed to 72dB for the A48). And finally there's the new generation of hand dryer, exemplified by the Dyson Airblade, which has its roots in the Mitsubishi Jet Towel from 1993. A perfectly-targeted presentation.
Chris T-T: My favourite loos from 2010 and 2011 Chris is a folk musician who gets around Europe a lot, especially (it seems) to heavy metal clubs. The VIP urinals at the Doghouse in Dundee are shaped like open mouths with red lipstick, while one continental loo he visited had an aquarium overhead. He's especially offended by mismatched toilets, for example those at the BBC Maida Vale studios with neighbouring black and white seats.
Matthew Crosby: Talking, tweeting, not talking and not tweeting about Nando's Chicken Restaurant (recycled Edinburgh Fringe routine)
Dr Galit Ferguson: The Question of Budgens - the reorganisation of a local supermarket Dr G applied academic techniques to the Crouch End branch of Budgens, proprietor Andrew Thornton. She provided photographic evidence of shelving reorganisation, and survey transcripts from customers annoyed that they could no longer find the Red Thai curry sauce or the falafel. In conclusion, she argued, Budgens create their own pricing policy along Gigetian lines. Spot on.
Jon Ronson: Eyes Wide Shut (London Streets : Islington area) Following Stanley Kubrick's death in 1999, Jon was invited to his mansion near St Albans to rifle through two portakabins full of photographs. They'd been taken to aid the selection of locations for filming, notably for Kubrick's final film Eyes Wide Shut. In one particularly extreme example, a freelance photographer was commissioned to photograph the whole of Commercial Road from the top of a 12ft ladder, then stitch the whole lot together to create a 6m-long panorama. In the end, the relevant scene was filmed on set at Pinewood. Jon's documentary on Stanley Kubrick's Boxes was released in 2008.
Peter Burnett: The Supper Book Peter diligently chronicled everything he ate and drank in one year - an art form he describes as "potential literature". Rather than read us an extract he focused instead on key themes, such as the bastardisation of food products (eg the Creme Egg lolly, the Kitkat milk drink) and the regional nature of the pasties sold at Gregg's (eg cheese and leek pasties in Wales). "I will be going to Gregg's later" he said, "not to eat but to see what things are called and what people are saying." When I popped down at lunchtime for a Jaffa Cake doughnut (1½m sold), what people were saying was that management have recently moved the bread racks to make way for additional seating, which is a bad idea - "probably for the Olympics, innit?"
TobyDignum: The square root of 2 Toby led us step by step through a proof that the square root of 2 can't be expressed as a fraction - a proof which led to the murder of its discoverer Hippasus of Metapontium. In its day this was a world-shattering breakthrough, so I'm not sure it counts as boring, but those in the audience with low level algebraic skills may have concurred.
Leila Johnston: About A Boy - the film that taught me what it is to be bored With the tenth anniversary of this seminal film coming up, Leila revealed some of its key themes, notably the emphasis on being bored. Lead character Will is a flaneur, making a Baudelarian lifestyle choice, she argued, in a way that might resonate with students and the unemployed today. Through her blog she uncovered the key filming locations, mostly in Clerkenwell and Camden but with statistical outliers in TW9 and SW18. Her readers' online pinpointing of Marcus's school as West Hill Primary in Wandsworth led to the inevitable conclusion that "if you want something doing, ask a bored person". Leila's presentation best summed up the innate irrelevant fascination of Boring 2011 - a highpoint.
Matt Parker: Barcodes Matt, who'd twisted his security wristband into a Mobius strip, described himself as a Number Ninja. He performed a party trick by predicting the last digit of the bar code on a packet of crisps, using checksum arithmetic. He explained precisely why the ASCII codes used to send text messages use 256 different combinations. And he revealed the maths behind QR codes, including how all the information is compressed into only 30% of the design (in the bottom right hand corner) thanks to Reed Solomon polynomial-based error correction.
Greg Stekelman: Personal reflections on London Underground lines Better known online as The Man Who Fell Asleep, Greg cantered through all eleven tube lines delivering facts, opinions and celebrity titbits. The Piccadilly line looks like a weeping tuning fork, the Circle line was separately named in 1949 and Steve Davis's favourite line is the Central. The best line, apparently, is the Victoria, whereas he's never been on the Waterloo and City and it looks a bit rubbish. A glaring error crept in when he claimed that the Metropolitan line went from Chalfont & Latimer to Cheshunt, but as he's never been out there either we should let him off.
Helen Keen: "There are no boring shuttle flights" (recycled Edinburgh Fringe routine)
Will Barratt: The Loebner Prize Every year since 1990 a competition has been held to determine whether computers have sufficient artificial intelligence to pass themselves off as human in conversation - the so-called Turing Test. The most successful computers win by being either defensively boring or programmably paranoid rather than linguistically independent, Will argued, because humans are too easily fooled.
Rhodri Marsden: Small Talk Like many of us, Rhodri is very bad at small talk. He doesn't have the knack of asking appropriatequestions to move a conversation forward. But he does have a book coming out in February. And he did make us laugh.
Josie Long: Ten maligned towns to which I recently took an alternative pop-up comedy protest tour (future Edinburgh Fringe routine, no doubt) (she went on far too long)
MarkStevenson: Cynicism (badly-pitched sweary rant) (like a lead balloon, I'm afraid)
Richard DeDomenici: Health and/or Safety 22 photos illustrating global health and safety malaise, from escalators in Chicago to doorless lifts in Helsinki. Remember how dangerous Routemasters used to be, especially when driven at speed? And have you seen how hazardous the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin is in snow - they don't grit it, all those sharp corners.
Dr Felicity Ford: Vending machines of the British Isles - a Sound Diaries project After a fairly lean spell, Boring 2011 was right back on target with this project from sound-diaries.com. Dr Felicity's audio quest had begun at the Oxford Brookes University coffee vending machine, which we all had a listen to, from the initial whirr to the final plaintive ting. Her Powerpoint played up after this, overlapping the sounds of a Glasgow Coca Cola machine, an Oxford Mini Cheddars vend and a vitamin water dispenser in Reading, but we got the idea. Dr Felicity described her project as a good exemplification of Georges Perec's theory of the infraordinary, which sent the two people sitting either side of me scuttling to their iPhones (which tells you a lot about the conference audience).
Adam Curtis: BBC Television Archives Adam started out on That's Life, but now makes opinionated documentaries for the BBC like All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace. He brought us news of a behind the scenes project at the BBC Archive (a big shed in Perivale) where an employee called Andrew has been staying behind after work to catalogue "the bits between the programmes". Announcements, trails, logos, public information films, that sort of thing. He's watched his way through the first fifty years of this stuff - the stitching between the programmes - and has noted everything down in marvellous detail. Adam treated us to a compilation of archived BBC continuity, like the introductions to party political broadcasts, the spinning globe, a GPO TV Detector Van film and the elegiac closedown sequence at the end of another day on BBC2. "Over on BBC1 now, some space-age hippies feature in the latest episode of Star Trek (except for viewers in Wales)". And then Adam switched completely, to his trademark documentary style, warning of parallels between 1980s Soviet society and our current sleepwalking austerity. We live in an era of boredom, he argued, brought about by innate passivity and exploitable stagnation. So that was a far from cheery note to end on. But a boring note, hell no.
Last night, mid rush hour, hundreds of cyclists converged on the Bow roundabout for a candlelight vigil. They'd turned up because, one week earlier, Svitlana Tereschenko had died in a bike accident on the eastern side of the roundabout. And they'd turned up because, three weeks earlier, Brian Dorling had died in a bike accident on the western side of the roundabout. Both were entering the roundabout, both were hit by a left-turning tipper lorry. One roundabout, two distressingly similar deaths - not really what was intended when Cycle Superhighway 2 reached Bow in the summer.
The vigil had been organised by the Tower Hamlets Wheelers, an august body of local biking enthusiasts, here to pay their respects. They'll have been very pleased with the turnout, if not for the reason it was necessary. So many turned up that the only safe place to congregate was the centre of the roundabout - the bleak central circle where normally nobody goes. They surrounded themselves with candles, laid out in a flickering arc on the concrete. They draped a banner across a pile of Skanska barriers ("Safer Junctions For All"). And they stuck posters on the traffic lights where passing drivers could clearly see them ("Two deaths too many"). Too late for Brian and Svitlana, but maybe timely enough to prevent a third E3 casualty.
All ages of cyclist turned up for the vigil, some on their first ride along the Superhighway. A lot were in bright yellow fluorescent jackets - taking no chances on this dark East End night. Brian Paddick was here - the Lib Dem Mayoral candidate - as well as Rushanara Ali - the local MP. So too was Debbie Dorling, widow of the first CS2 victim. It must have been tough returning to the site of her husband's death, again, but immensely reassuring to see how many people cared.
On Brian's side of the roundabout, outside McDonalds, a ghost bike has appeared. A pure white chassis, plus a "Remember Me" tag on the lamppost - a stark reminder of mortality beneath the sodium glare. The flowers here have been refreshed, now pert bright blooms, with the toppermost roses dedicated "in memory of my dear husband". There's a larger collection of flowers on Svitlana's side, plus a haunting full-colour portrait, laid out along the wall to mark the more recent death. Here too a line of candles, the largest burning brightly in an empty jar of crunchy peanut butter. Even an hour after the vigil had packed up and ridden off, cyclists were still turning up to read the cards on the tributes and to pay their respects.
And we have a result, of sorts, as TfL have pledged to reassess the Bow Roundabout and report back to the mayor on "as a matter of urgency." He'll listen this time, unlike the team who installed CS2 in the first place. The pre-construction report from the Jacobs consultancy warned of dangerous traffic flow and proposed that toucan crossings be built to ease westward and eastward travel. As it turns out those two toucan crossings might have saved one life each, had they been built, which other priorities determinedthey were not. It is of course over-simplistic to cherrypick consultants' reports after a series of tragic events, and to claim that they could obviously have been prevented. But either lack of money or the smoothing of traffic flow took precedence, and cyclists received merely lip service rather than protection.
TfL have also promised to review all the junctions on the existing cycle superhighways, which would be a massive undertaking if done properly, and one fears that any review will be either glacially slow or superficially cursory. There's also no commitment to investigate the sections of superhighway between junctions, which means those pathetic half-blue shared lanes will continue, and continue to be rolled out elsewhere. It's not best practice, but in these times of austerity apparently it'll do. Only at Bow do I think we can guarantee action, because a road junction which kills your electorate isn't a vote winner. Something'll happen here, before the Olympics, because the force of public opinion has made its voice heard. But whether it'll be cosmetic tweaks or life-saving transformation, that's yet to be seen.
[NOW 1] Phil Collins : "You Can't Hurry Love" (1983) [NOW 2] Queen : "Radio Ga Ga" (1984) [NOW 3] Duran Duran : "The Reflex" [NOW 4] Paul McCartney : "No More Lonely Nights" [NOW 5] Duran Duran : "A View to a Kill" (1985) [NOW 6] Queen : "One Vision" [NOW 7] Peter Gabriel : "Sledgehammer" (1986) [NOW 8] Duran Duran : "Notorious" [NOW 9] Jackie Wilson : "Reet Petite" (1987) [NOW 10] Freddie Mercury & Montserrat Caballé : "Barcelona" [NOW 11] Pet Shop Boys : "Always on My Mind" (1988) [NOW 12] Wet Wet Wet : "With a Little Help from My Friends" [NOW 13] Yazz & The Plastic Population : "The Only Way Is Up" [NOW 14] Marc Almond & Gene Pitney : "Something's Gotten Hold of My Heart" (1989) [NOW 15] Queen : "I Want It All" [NOW 16] Tears for Fears : "Sowing the Seeds of Love" [NOW 17] Erasure : "Blue Savannah" (1990) [NOW 18] The Beautiful South : "A Little Time" [NOW 19] The Clash : "Should I Stay or Should I Go" (1991) [NOW 20] Vic Reeves & The Wonder Stuff : "Dizzy" [NOW 21] Queen : "Bohemian Rhapsody" (1992) [NOW 22] Erasure : "Take a Chance On Me" [NOW 23] Tasmin Archer : "Sleeping Satellite" [NOW 24] The Bluebells : "Young at Heart" (1993) [NOW 25] George Michael & Queen : "Somebody to Love" [NOW 26] UB40 : "(I Can't Help) Falling In Love With You" [NOW 27] Ace of Base : "The Sign" (1994) [NOW 28] Wet Wet Wet : "Love Is All Around" [NOW 29] Pato Banton with UB40 : "Baby Come Back" [NOW 30] Freak Power : "Turn On, Tune In, Cop Out" (1995) [NOW 31] Wet Wet Wet : "Don't Want to Forgive Me Now" [NOW 32] Queen : "Heaven for Everyone" [NOW 33] Queen : "Too Much Love Will Kill You" (1996) [NOW 34] Spice Girls : "Wannabe" [NOW 35] Spice Girls : "Say You'll Be There" [NOW 36] Spice Girls : "Mama" (1997) [NOW 37] Hanson : "MMMBop" [NOW 38] Chumbawamba : "Tubthumping" [NOW 39] All Saints : "Never Ever" (1998) [NOW 40] John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John : "The Grease Megamix"
[NOW 41] Boyzone : "No Matter What" [NOW 42] Boyzone : "When the Going Gets Tough" (1999) [NOW 43] Martine McCutcheon : "Perfect Moment" [NOW 44] Britney Spears : "...Baby One More Time" [NOW 45] Gabrielle : "Rise" (2000) [NOW 46] Britney Spears : "Oops!... I Did It Again" [NOW 47] Robbie Williams : "Rock DJ" [NOW 48] Atomic Kitten : "Whole Again" (2001) [NOW 49] Robbie Williams : "Eternity" [NOW 50] Kylie Minogue : "Can't Get You Out of My Head" [NOW 51] Enrique Iglesias : "Hero" (2002) [NOW 52] Ronan Keating : "If Tomorrow Never Comes" [NOW 53] DJ Sammy : "Heaven" [NOW 54] t.A.T.u. : "All the Things She Said" (2003) [NOW 55] R. Kelly : "Ignition" [NOW 56] The Black Eyed Peas : "Where Is the Love?" [NOW 57] Britney Spears : "Toxic" (2004) [NOW 58] Rachel Stevens : "Some Girls" [NOW 59] Blue : "Curtain Falls" [NOW 60] Gwen Stefani : "What You Waiting For" (2005) [NOW 61] James Blunt : "You're Beautiful" [NOW 62] Sugababes : "Push The Button" [NOW 63] Corinne Bailey Rae : "Put Your Records On" (2006) [NOW 64] Gnarls Barkley : "Crazy" [NOW 65] Scissor Sisters : "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" [NOW 66] Mika : "Grace Kelly" (2007) [NOW 67] Rihanna featuring Jay-Z : "Umbrella" [NOW 68] Leona Lewis : "Bleeding Love" [NOW 69] Duffy : "Mercy" (2008) [NOW 70] Estelle featuring Kanye West : "American Boy" [NOW 71] Girls Aloud : "The Promise" [NOW 72] Lily Allen : "The Fear" (2009) [NOW 73] Lady Gaga : "Poker Face" [NOW 74] Cheryl Cole : "Fight for This Love" [NOW 75] Lady Gaga : "Bad Romance" (2010) [NOW 76] Katy Perry feat. Snoop Dogg : "California Gurls" [NOW 77] Rihanna : "Only Girl (In the World)" [NOW 78] Bruno Mars : "Grenade" (2011) [NOW 79] Adele : "Someone Like You" [NOW 80] Maroon 5 featuring Christina Aguilera : "Moves Like Jagger"
On 17 November 1311, 700 years ago today, the Bishop of Stepney issued a licence for the building of a new chapel. It was to be situated on the main road east out of London, near the bridge over the River Lea, in the growing settlement of Stratford-atte-Bowe. Villagers were fed up of having to walk from Bow to Stepney and back each Sunday to go to church, so a new church made ecclesiastical sense. It took a few years to find sufficient money and an appropriate site, but eventually Edward III granted a piece of land "in the middle of the King's Highway" and the first Bow Church was born. The A11 hasn't gone away, and still surrounds themedievalbuildingoneitherside. And parishioners still bear witness here, seven centuries on, at "the church in themiddle of the road".
It's not the church with the BowBells, nor the church at the end of the Oranges and Lemons rhyme. That's St Mary-le-Bow in Cheapside, four miles away in the City of London. But this doesn't stop tourists coming to St Mary's in Bow by mistake, lured in by the DLR (this being one of the very few churches in London with a station named after it). Visitors can't gain access to the interior unless they turn up on the first Saturday of the month, so won't see the fine beamed roof, the whitewashed arches along the nave and the stained glass window behind the altar with its hidden wildlife (owl, cat, mouse, look harder, squirrel). One of only two surviving medieval churches in Tower Hamlets, this is a charming building with a chequered back history.
The area around the church has changed dramatically too. Various houses, an inn and Bow's market hall were once tightly packed alongside, with the main road passing by to north and south. In 1789 a complaint was made that the church was "a great obstacle in a much frequented thoroughfare", forcing carriages to separate and causing "frequent stoppages". If easing traffic flow had been the order of the day, St Mary's would have been doomed to demolition long before now. It wasn't until 1825 that the area around the church was cleared of buildings and the present churchyard created. This somehow survived the coming of the flyover in the 1960s, although the rear of the churchyard is now rarely accessed, tapering to an artificial point between encroaching tarmac.
2011 finds Bow Church in a state of flux. The last Rector, Michael Peet, died in April after a long illness. He was the life and soul of the parish, and had been masterminding plans for commemorating today's 700th anniversary. He'd have loved the pageant which took place in the church in September, based on historic characters brought to life in the Reverend's book. And he'd have been in his element at last night's torchlight celebration. Tealights had been lit all the way along the path from the Gladstone statue, awaiting the Bishop of Stepney's arrival, while the congregation stood around outside the front door sipping refreshments. Someone had brought along a few cheap sparklers, which spluttered for a few seconds before extinguishing prematurely. And all the time Bow's non-famous bells rang out, no doubt annoying the hell out of various local residents who didn't realise the significance of today's date.
For those interested, there's even a special brochure packed with all the details a would-be community leader might need. It's remarkably honest, and lays bare the challenges of ministry in a multicultural inner city. Nearly twenty thousand people live in the parish, but only thirty or so regularly turn up for communion every Sunday. It used to be forty before the vicar fell ill, and the congregation have really pulled together to keep regular services and worship going during the interregnum. But in recent years the church has only ever hosted two or three weddings a year, maybe ten or so baptisms, which isn't what you'd expect looking at the imposing exterior. There's a genuine challenge here - to make Bow's ancient church a relevant part of the surrounding community, and to continue seven unbroken centuries of devoted ministry. Applications for the post close on Friday next week. Middle of the road candidates need not apply.
In what's unintentionally becoming diamond geezer's History Week, here's a very-local very-important anniversary. St Mary's in Bow, the "church in the middle of the road", celebrates its 700th birthday tomorrow. There'll be celebratory bell-ringing tonight, along with torchlight refreshments and a visit by the Bishop of Stepney. Then on Thursday evening, the septcentenary itself, the Bishop of London will host a special service of commemoration. Bend a knee, raise a glass, and take a Bow. More tomorrow...
It's not every day that a new heritage attraction opens in London. New attraction maybe, but not the opening to the public of something old and lovely. So come one and all to the Westminster riverside, to the neo-Gothic mansion called Two Temple Place. And then maybe, like me, you'll go "blimey, wow, I never realised all this was here, blimey, wow."
Two Temple Place was formerly called Astor House, built in 1895 for the American social climbers Lord and Lady Astor. They wanted a central London property to show off, so took advantage of reclaimed land beside the new Thames Embankment and built a Gothic pile from scratch. No expense was too great, no flight of fancy too grand, and the end result is an over-embellished house with a gasp around every corner. When you've got Hever Castle, Cliveden and the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel at your disposal, you can afford to make your townhouse very special.
Since the Astors sold it on, Two Temple Place has been home to Sun Life of Canada, the Society of Incorporated Accountants and Auditors and (for the last 50 years) medical conglomerate Smith & Nephew. The latest owners are the Bulldog Trust, a philanthropic body who "embrace the spirit of resourceful giving", and who opened up the building for the first time at the end of last month. They plan to host a series of exhibitions showcasing works from non-central-London galleries, and have kicked off by inviting Walthamstow's William Morris Gallery (currently closed for redevelopment) to put on a show. The result is "William Morris: Story, Memory, Myth" = a collection of the designer's creations with a literary bent. And it's a tricky choice to decide which is more splendid - Morris's artwork or the house in which they're displayed.
Just off the Embankment, between Temple station and the Inns of Temple, that's where Astor's house is tucked. It could be an Oxbridge college, or a small country mansion, or any other whimsical pile with a golden galleon weathervane on the roof. Approach via the front courtyard, beneath further nautical touches on the lampstands, and up the steps to the main entrance. No, really, the lady on the front desk will tell you, entrance is free. And have a free copy of the official 72-page show catalogue to take round with you and read, then perhaps buy your own copy in the shop later. Ready for a look round, sir? Not that way yet, that's the cafe. Try the gallery through there.
Morris and his associate Edward Burne-Jones commissioned many works based on Arthurian legend and Chaucerian tales, including the tapestries hung here. Some are very long, in muted shades, and quite exquisite. Chivalrous knights lead white-clad maidens through enchanted rose gardens, that sort of thing. Upstairs in the LongGallery are much taller tapestries, still with a romantic hue, if a King turned into a woodpecker by a spurned Greek goddess can be described as romance. There are wallpaper samples too, as you'd expect with Morris, plus block-cut illustrated poems from the Kelmscot Press. All are presented with a concise burst of background information, enough to make you feel like you've learned something. And if this is the quality of stuff we'll be seeing in E17 next summer, bring it on.
Meanwhile, it's hard to stop staring at the house. Those ceiling-high stained glass windows, they're not Morris, they're some verdant Swiss lakeside the Astors installed. That doorway out to the landing, it's entirely coincidental that's covered in gilt panels depicting Arthurian heroines. And the landing itself, an oak-panelled ascent to a pillared gallery where a brass candelabra hangs from a stained glass ceiling, that's as entirely as over-the-top as it sounds. Just for once it's Wikipedia which has the most useful photos for giving potential visitors an inkling of what they'll see, although nothing quite prepares you for the 3D Astorama experience.
Two Temple Place(WC2R 3BD) » Open daily 10am-4:30pm (Sundays noon-5pm) » Closed Tuesdays (and today for a special function, sorry) » Admission free (and for all future exhibitions) » Nearest station: Temple (obviously)
The London Stone is moving. You know the one - the ancient stone in Cannon Street, the rock that legend says is linked to the destiny of our capital city. It's being removed from behind the grille on the shop opposite the station, and relocated to an office block down the road. Or it is unless planning consultation dictates otherwise. Deadline for public comments, next Tuesday.
The situation is this. The Stone is currently encased in a Portland stone surround on the front wall of 111 Cannon Street. It's quite low down, which makes it hard to see, and it's behind glass and an iron grille, which makes it even harder to see. Semi-visible, semi-ignored, but very secure. The former sports shop behind the wall has closed down, and is up for let, with contractors Bovis stripping out the interior as we speak. Meanwhile the entire seven-storey 1960s block is owned by property company Minerva, who want to create a mixed-use development on site and are rather keen to get on and build it. A Grade II* listed chunk of limestone embedded in the front wall makes that legally awkward, hence their intent to shift it a few doors down the street.
A few doors down the street is the WalbrookBuilding, one of the City's newer office blocks. It looks like a metal armadillo, or a striped grey blancmange - or whatever it was that Foster and Partners' project brief intended. A very modern building, very modern indeed, but still with a few heritage nods at ground level. Two of the metal struts planted firmly into Cannon Street incorporate small black plaques that once marked former ward boundaries. They look a bit incongruous, to be frank, but at least they're still on site rather than scrapped and dumped elsewhere.
So the plan is to relocateLondon Stone to the Walbrook Building. The front elevation will be altered, and a special display case will be built to contain the legendary rock from up the road. One of the existing grey panels will be replaced by a laminated glass wall, and the stone placed inside on an etched mild steel plinth. And the grille will come too, given a less prominent position beneath, plus the metal plaque that currently sits on top of them all. All the detail's in the published plans and drawings, if you know whereto look. Indeed, if you ever want to find out the heritage of a historic artefact, I can heartily recommend waiting until it's the subject of a planning application...
• London Stone is a Grade II* listed block of oolitic limestone measuring approximately 53cm wide, 43cm high and 30cm deep, and is thought to be a former Roman milestone. • Oolitic limestone is not local to the London area. It is therefore presumed that the stone cannot predate the Roman period, when it is believed the stone was transported to London for construction purposes. • The first record of the stone is from the 10th century, mentioned as a landmark in a list of rents belonging to Christ's Church in Canterbury. • In 1405, Kentish rebel Jack Cade is believed to have struck his sword on London Stone and claimed to be the 'Lord of London'. • In the late 1550s, London Stone is shown on the 'Copperplate Map' of the City of London. The stone is shown as a large rectangular block in the roadway, located opposite the main door of St Swithin's Church.
They can't move this, surely, it would be sacrilegious! Ah, but hang on...
• St Swithin's Church was destroyed in the Great Fire of London in 1666, and rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren. By this time the original stone is thought to have been worn down to a stump. • In 1742 the Vestry Minute Book of St Swithin's records that the stone was moved from the south side of the street to the north as it was considered an obstruction and traffic hazard. • In 1798 the stone was again considered an obstruction and relocated against the south wall of the church. • The stone is understood to have been moved again in 1828 and set into an alcove in the wall of the replacement church. • Wren's church was bombed and destroyed during the Second World War, but London Stone remained intact and remained standing until the building was demolished in 1961. • In 1962, London Stone was placed in its current location in a new office block at 111 Cannon Street.
So it turns out the London Stone has led a fairly nomadic life, repeatedly crossing Cannon Street or being built into the fabric of yet another building. The latest shift isn't unprecedented heresy - it's a continuation of centuries of movement. The Stone will also be considerably easier to see, and better noticed by casual passers-by, which has to be a huge bonus. And yet I can't help seeing Minerva's action as some sort of corporate kidnap. They own the property where London Stone is, they own the property where London Stone will end up, and they want this inconvenient rock out of the way so that they can knock down an office block and make a profit.
• 111 Cannon Street is a potential development site and in order to ensure the continued conservation of London Stone, it is proposed that the Stone is relocated to the Walbrook Building where it can be better protected in situ.
Minerva's grand design finally removes London Stone from the built environment, forcibly elevated after two millennia at ground level. It'll become a showcased exhibit - an ancient relic in a glass cage - rather than part of the everyday fabric of the city. London Stone's moved many times before, and not always for the most noble of reasons. But this time I fear it's moving solely for commercial convenience, in what will literally be a break from the past.
The longest running show in London, they call it. It's been performed every night (without fail) for the last 700 years. It runs for only six minutes, beginning to end. Tickets are limited, but free. It's The Ceremony of the Keys at the Tower of London. And I've finally been along to watch. I think I'm allowed to call myself a proper Londoner now.
There are some fairly strict rules if you want to attend. You have to apply in writing (none of this modern online form-filling stuff). You have to enclose a stamped self-addressed envelope (and that's not a request you hear often these days). You have to give at least two months notice (three in the summer). You have to offer two different choices of date (the rest of November plus Christmas Day are already booked). There's a limit of six tickets per application (unless it's between November and March when you can have fifteen). You have to submit names and personal details of all potential attendees in advance (for the records). And you have to turn up by half past nine in the evening (any later and You Do Not Get In).
I got in. The Beefeater on duty met us at the front gate by the gift shop, gave our tickets a cursory check and ushered us within. There must have been almost 100 of us all told, which is rather more than I was expecting, but keeping numbers high keeps waiting lists down. We gathered on the bridge over the moat in front of the Byward Tower, excitedly, expectantly, awaiting further instructions. Our Yeoman Warder was a cheery soul, apart from his stern list of behavioural demands. Put your cameras away, stick your mobiles on silent, and stay quiet once you're inside. He asked the crowd where they were from (New Jersey, New Zealand, California, South Africa) and I soon realised that I was in a UK minority. It may take serious forward planning (and a couple of International Reply Coupons), but for many tourists the highlight of a trip to London is this late night lock-in at a royal palace.
Onward to Traitor's Gate, past dark forbidding towers, for further historical background and additional details of the night's ceremony. This bloke'll walk up here, they'll walk down there, he'll call out that, they'll play this, and then we'll invite you to leave. It pays to be prepared. And then the two-tier nature of the ceremony became clear. A much smaller group of spectators appeared out of the darkness and lined up (with a better view) on the opposite side of the cobbles. They were dressed in black tie and evening wear, and had clearly spent the earlier part of the evening being expensively entertained somewhere within the Tower's bounds. Some grinned, some tottered, and most looked like they might possibly have had one beer too many. We faced them, they faced us, and we waited.
Six minutes to ten, and the age-old ceremony began. A single Yeoman Warder strode forth, keys jangling, pausing in the gateway to attach himself to an entourage of guardsmen. This larger group then marched off to lock the two wooden gates in the towers we'd all entered through earlier. All of this took place completely out of sight, left to our imaginations, as we stood silently in the late-night gloom. Look at us, we're inside the Tower of London after lock-in, how the hell are we going to get out? And back they trooped, but only so far before the sentry on duty demanded identification.
Sentry: Who comes there? Chief Warder: The keys. Sentry: Whose keys? Chief Warder: Queen Elizabeth's keys. Sentry: Pass Queen Elizabeth's Keys. All's well.
I think our Sentry actually said "Who goes there?", rather than comes, but nobody complained he was off-script. The outcome was the same, as the locking party were duly invited to enter into the heart of the Tower. We followed behind at a safe distance, to watch the final part of the ceremony on the steps in front of the White Tower. There was a lot of stomping up and down at first, then a cheer for Queen Elizabeth and the collective response "Amen!" We weren't perhaps being as quiet as we'd been asked to be, but none of the warders shushed us - they were all too busy taking part. A lone bugler played the Last Post, slightly awkwardly, hitting most of the right notes. And as the clock struck ten they were off, taking the keys away to the Queen's House to be locked up for the night.
I was expecting instant ejection, but instead we were allowed to hang around for a bit and ask questions... even take a few photos now the ceremony was over. I bet they don't allow that in high summer, but perhaps autumnal visits are a little more relaxed. And it turned out the gates to the Tower weren't quite as locked as they seemed. There are smaller exit gates embedded in the two larger sealed gates, so returning to late-night London wasn't too difficult after all. A secret slice of medieval heritage, with performances daily, yet how many Londoners have actually been? Get your stamped addressed envelope ready and you too could witness history.
[CS2] Friday's tragic death at the Bow Flyover roundabout has been marked by a small row of bouquets. They're spread along the wall by the Calor Gas depot, with a single glass candleholder on the pavement to complete the temporary roadside shrine. Michelle left some flowers, and so did Cheryl, neither knowing the name of the cyclist they're commemorating but wanting to express their condolences all the same. This latest accident took place on precisely the opposite side of the roundabout to last month's fatal bike/lorry encounter. Brian's Dorling's floral tributes to are still tied to the traffic lights by McDonalds, with all bar one now hanging limp and withered after a fortnight of remembrance. The occasional cyclist stops by to take a photo. And the traffic rolls on. [photo][photo]
[CS2] There's been many a moan that Cycle Superhighway 2 stops at the Bow Flyover roundabout. How awful, they say, that the mayor of Newham hasn't given permission for Boris's Cycle Superhighway to proceed onward towards Ilford. And yet Stratford High Street does have its own cycle lanes, at least at the start, it's just that they're not painted blue. They're not excessively wide either, not as wide as CS2 would be, but they are at least separated from other vehicles (most of CS2 through Bow is nothing more than a shared carriageway - half an ordinary lane of traffic). Further up Stratford High Street the cycle lanes fade away and then you're on your own, which is bloody stupid planning given that the roads have just been remodelled prior to the Olympics. But equally stupid is the lack of forethought at the roundabout itself, where no proper interface has been designed to aid transfer between Newham's cycle lane and Barclays' blue stripe. Riding east CS2 ends by vaguely dumping you on the pavement, whereas the continuation cycle lane is in the road. Meanwhile going west (where the latest fatality occurred) CS2 assumes you've ridden in from a non-existent lane on the pavement, so starts in mid-flow, rather than connecting back to the traffic lights. This end of CS2 has been optimised to merge with a continuation that doesn't yet exist, not the reality of today. No wonder it's not especially safe.
[CS2] Some better news. TfL have launched a special cycling map for the "Olympic Park and surrounding area", which you might find very useful. They launched it with a mild fanfare a few weeks ago. You may have seen it... although you probably haven't, because the map's very deliberately not been put online. You can only get a copy by ordering one from the TfL website (and, unlike all the other cycle maps of London, you can only order one). Someone in a trading unit in Woolwich then shoves one in an envelope, and you should receive it through the post in a week or so. The map shows recommended cycling routes for getting to the Olympics... but, given that this is the Autumn 2011 - Spring 2012 edition, these routes are of minimal current significance. Also marked are Cycle Superhighways and other "safe" routes recommended for cyclists, except there's one very obvious gap. Stratford High Street isn't officially designated as safe, you'll remember, so there's no direct cycle route between the Bow Roundabout and Stratford town centre. Rather than five minutes direct, TfL's risk-averse map recommends a meandering quarter-hour diversion via Three Mills, the Greenway and Abbey Mills DLR. Impractical, non-credible, and sure to be wholly ignored. Can this E15 blockade can be broken by the time the Summer 2012 map launches? (Next Saturday, to officially launch the Olympic walking and cycling routes, Sustrans are organising two walks (from Gants Hill and Angel) and three rides (from Roding Valley, Tottenham Hale and Cutty Sark). Meet around 11, travel together, and end up at the View Tube. I hope the cafe can cope)
[CS2] There's only one good bit of Cycle Superhighway 2 in Bow, and that's the proper segregated lane on the pavement opposite Campbell Road. It was only opened back in the summer, but earlier this week it was suddenly closed again. The current worksite is for the construction of a new Cycle Hire docking station - the closest to the Olympic Park, so it's going to be enormous. And to build it requires digging up the pavement again, hence temporarily fencing off the Superhighway. Typical, eh? You build something better for cyclists, then something else better for cyclists, and the second gets in the way of the first. But what idiot placed these signs on the approach to the roadworks, in that order. First dismount (even though the remaining strip of pavement is very narrow and not in any way ideal for bike-wheeling). And second a blue arrow directing cyclists to the right (and pedestrians to the left). That's to the right into the main road, which is a bloody stupid place to walk a bike. It's just as well that cyclists are extremely good at ignoring instructions to dismount, because none of them are dismounting, they're riding through. But whoever placed this combination of signs on CS2 wasn't thinking, wasn't thinking at all.
[CS2] Walking to work midweek, I halted at the traffic lights at the top of Campbell Road to allow a car to pull out into Bow Road. I saw the car, but the cyclist riding parallel to me on CS2 didn't. He jumped a red light because he thought it looked safe, then suddenly discovered he was in mortal danger from a lateral collision. Braking hard he skidded to a halt, then toppled from his bike and fell sideways onto the main road. Had the usual stream of traffic been flowing past he'd have been a goner, and he knew it. He shivered and shuddered, then rose to his feet and clambered meekly back onto his bike. The driver in a nearby car wound down his window and hurled some (entirely appropriate) abuse, and the cyclist made a conciliatory gesture of acknowledgement before riding on. He was idiotic to have jumped a red light in the first place, obviously (even though it's often perfectly safe to do so). But I swear I've seen more cyclists jumping red lights since CS2 was built, because the blue stripe across road junctions seems to subconsciously tempt them forward. Priority for you ahead, it seems to say - ignore the red, follow the blue. Best not, because a Cycle Superhighway isn't a shield, it's just a bit of paint on a road.
At 10:30 this morning a mass bike ride will head off from St Mark's Church, Kennington, for a tour of London. It's not a celebration, quite the opposite - a ride born out of anger from recent bike-related casualties. The peloton plan to visit all of TfL's Top 10 Most Dangerous Junctions for Cyclists in London, taken from a list sourced in the summer by Assembly member Jenny Jones. They're calling it the Tour Du Danger, and it'll weave across the Thames and through the city before ending at a cafe near the Old Street roundabout. Here's that top 10, starting with the most dangerous road junction for deaths and serious injuries.
But that list of Top 10 most dangerous junctions is no longer correct. Yesterday evening there was another fatal accidentat the Bow Flyover roundabout involving a cyclist and a lorry. A 34-year-old woman was killed, around quarter to five, while moving off at the lights.
Police are appealing for witnesses following a collision in east London in which a cyclist died. Officers were called at approx 16.45hrs on Friday 11 November to reports of a white DAF tipper truck in collision with a cyclist at the Bow Road Roundabout E3. At this early stage it is believed the collision occurred as the lorry and the cyclist, travelling west on High Street E3, moved off from traffic lights at the roundabout. The ambulance service attended but the cyclist, a woman aged 34, was pronounced dead at the scene.
Rush hour traffic was still being diverted and delayed when I arrived home an hour later.
Southbound direction. Accident has closed the southbound onslip to A12 The southbound off slip to the A12 remains closed at the Bow Road Roundabout. Westbound A11 off slip has also been closed on approach to the roundabout, with all traffic diverted over the flyover. The A11 is slow moving eastbound to the junction with Burdett Road and westbound back to the Stratford One Way System. Drivers are advised to expect delays on all approaches to the roundabout, and use an alternative route where possible.
It's only three weeks since father-of-three Brian Dorling met his end on the very same roundabout. That was widely flagged as the first death on a Cycle Superhighway, and yesterday's fatality is the second. A second incident at the far end of CS2, a second death at traffic lights, and a second incident involving a tipper truck. Of the 15 cycling deaths in London this year, that's now two dead at the Bow Flyover roundabout, which is a ghastly record of grief and tragedy.
It's always easy to read too much into statistics. It may be a complete coincidence that these two deaths came so soon after part of the tarmac here was painted blue. But something's not right when my local roundabout is repeatedly taking away the lives of the vulnerable who use it. This is the junction, you may remember, which TfL have been unwilling to remodel because that would "introduce significant delays to traffic." Have priorities now swung too far towards the four-wheeled road user, rather than those on two or on foot? Round about where I live, it would seem so.
1a) Eastbound sliproad from A11: This is fairly easy to cross on foot. There's no pedestrian signal, but all traffic stops at a red light for about 75% of every 50 second cycle. This gives plenty of time to stroll over, so long as you don't start out just before the light turns green, which it does with no warning, so beware.
2a) Northbound sliproad from A12: This is fairly easy to cross on foot. There's no pedestrian signal, but all traffic stops at a red light for about 75% of every 50 second cycle. This gives plenty of time to stroll over, so long as you don't start out just before the light turns green, which it does with no warning, so beware.
3a) Westbound sliproad from A118: This is fairly easy to cross on foot. There's no pedestrian signal, but all traffic stops at a red light for about 75% of every 50 second cycle. This gives plenty of time to stroll over, so long as you don't start out just before the light turns green, which it does with no warning, so beware. Except hang on, what's this?
4a) Southbound sliproad from A12: This is fairly easy to cross on foot. There's no pedestrian signal, but all traffic stops at a red light for about 75% of every 50 second cycle. This gives plenty of time to stroll over, so long as you don't start out just before the light turns green, which it does with no warning, so beware.
Notes from Boring 2011
Peter Burnett: The Supper Book
Will Barratt: The Loebner Prize
Last night, mid rush hour, hundreds of cyclists converged on the Bow roundabout for a candlelight vigil. They'd turned up because, one week earlier, Svitlana Tereschenko had died in a bike accident on the eastern side of the roundabout. And they'd turned up because, three weeks earlier, Brian Dorling had died in a bike accident on the western side of the roundabout. Both were entering the roundabout, both were hit by a left-turning tipper lorry. One roundabout, two distressingly similar deaths - not really what was intended when Cycle Superhighway 2 reached Bow in the summer.
On Brian's side of the roundabout, outside McDonalds, a ghost bike has appeared. A pure white chassis, plus a "Remember Me" tag on the lamppost - a stark reminder of mortality beneath the sodium glare. The flowers here have been refreshed, now pert bright blooms, with the toppermost roses dedicated "in memory of my dear husband". There's a larger collection of flowers on Svitlana's side, plus a haunting full-colour portrait, laid out along the wall to mark the more recent death. Here too a line of candles, the largest burning brightly in an empty jar of crunchy peanut butter. Even an hour after the vigil had packed up and ridden off, cyclists were still turning up to read the cards on the tributes and to pay their respects.
On 17 November 1311, 700 years ago today, the Bishop of Stepney issued a licence for the building of a new chapel. It was to be situated on the main road east out of London, near the bridge over the River Lea, in the growing settlement of Stratford-atte-Bowe. Villagers were fed up of having to walk from Bow to Stepney and back each Sunday to go to church, so a new church made ecclesiastical sense. It took a few years to find sufficient money and an appropriate site, but eventually Edward III granted a piece of land "in the middle of the King's Highway" and the first Bow Church was born. The A11 hasn't gone away, and still surrounds the medieval building on either side. And parishioners still bear witness here, seven centuries on, at "the church in the middle of the road".
The area around the church has changed dramatically too. Various houses, an inn and Bow's market hall were once tightly packed alongside, with the main road passing by to north and south. In 1789 a complaint was made that the church was "a great obstacle in a much frequented thoroughfare", forcing carriages to separate and causing "frequent stoppages". If easing traffic flow had been the order of the day, St Mary's would have been doomed to demolition long before now. It wasn't until 1825 that the area around the church was cleared of buildings and the present churchyard created. This somehow survived the coming of the flyover in the 1960s, although the rear of the churchyard is now rarely accessed, tapering to an artificial point between encroaching tarmac.
The 700th anniversary falls slap bang in the middle of the parish's search for a new priest. You may have caught the advert in the Church Times.
Two Temple Place was formerly called Astor House, built in 1895 for the American social climbers Lord and Lady Astor. They wanted a central London property to show off, so took advantage of reclaimed land beside the new Thames Embankment and built a Gothic pile from scratch. No expense was too great, no flight of fancy too grand, and the end result is an over-embellished house with a gasp around every corner. When you've got Hever Castle, Cliveden and the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel at your disposal, you can afford to make your townhouse very special.
Just off the Embankment, between Temple station and the Inns of Temple, that's where Astor's house is tucked. It could be an Oxbridge college, or a small country mansion, or any other whimsical pile with a golden galleon weathervane on the roof. Approach via the front courtyard, beneath further nautical touches on the lampstands, and up the steps to the main entrance. No, really, the lady on the front desk will tell you, entrance is free. And have a free copy of the official 72-page show catalogue to take round with you and read, then perhaps buy your own copy in the shop later. Ready for a look round, sir? Not that way yet, that's the cafe. Try the gallery through there.
The London Stone is moving. You know the one - the ancient stone in Cannon Street, the rock that legend says is linked to the destiny of our capital city. It's being removed from behind the grille on the shop opposite the station, and relocated to an office block down the road. Or it is unless planning consultation dictates otherwise. Deadline for public comments, next Tuesday.
A few doors down the street is the Walbrook Building, one of the City's newer office blocks. It looks like a metal armadillo, or a striped grey blancmange - or whatever it was that Foster and Partners' project brief intended. A very modern building, very modern indeed, but still with a few heritage nods at ground level. Two of the metal struts planted firmly into Cannon Street incorporate small black plaques that once marked former ward boundaries. They look a bit incongruous, to be frank, but at least they're still on site rather than scrapped and dumped elsewhere.
So it turns out the London Stone has led a fairly nomadic life, repeatedly crossing Cannon Street or being built into the fabric of yet another building. The latest shift isn't unprecedented heresy - it's a continuation of centuries of movement. The Stone will also be considerably easier to see, and better noticed by casual passers-by, which has to be a huge bonus. And yet I can't help seeing Minerva's action as some sort of corporate kidnap. They own the property where London Stone is, they own the property where London Stone will end up, and they want this inconvenient rock out of the way so that they can knock down an office block and make a profit.
• 111 Cannon Street is a potential development site and in order to ensure the continued conservation of London Stone, it is proposed that the Stone is relocated to the Walbrook Building where it can be better protected in situ.Minerva's grand design finally removes London Stone from the built environment, forcibly elevated after two millennia at ground level. It'll become a showcased exhibit - an ancient relic in a glass cage - rather than part of the everyday fabric of the city. London Stone's moved many times before, and not always for the most noble of reasons. But this time I fear it's moving solely for commercial convenience, in what will literally be a break from the past.There are some fairly strict rules if you want to attend. You have to apply in writing (none of this modern online form-filling stuff). You have to enclose a stamped self-addressed envelope (and that's not a request you hear often these days). You have to give at least two months notice (three in the summer). You have to offer two different choices of date (the rest of November plus Christmas Day are already booked). There's a limit of six tickets per application (unless it's between November and March when you can have fifteen). You have to submit names and personal details of all potential attendees in advance (for the records). And you have to turn up by half past nine in the evening (any later and You Do Not Get In).
I think our Sentry actually said "Who goes there?", rather than comes, but nobody complained he was off-script. The outcome was the same, as the locking party were duly invited to enter into the heart of the Tower. We followed behind at a safe distance, to watch the final part of the ceremony on the steps in front of the White Tower. There was a lot of stomping up and down at first, then a cheer for Queen Elizabeth and the collective response "Amen!" We weren't perhaps being as quiet as we'd been asked to be, but none of the warders shushed us - they were all too busy taking part. A lone bugler played the Last Post, slightly awkwardly, hitting most of the right notes. And as the clock struck ten they were off, taking the keys away to the Queen's House to be locked up for the night.
[CS2] There's been many a moan that Cycle Superhighway 2 stops at the Bow Flyover roundabout. How awful, they say, that the mayor of Newham hasn't given permission for Boris's Cycle Superhighway to proceed onward towards Ilford. And yet Stratford High Street does have its own cycle lanes, at least at the start, it's just that they're not painted blue. They're not excessively wide either, not as wide as CS2 would be, but they are at least separated from other vehicles (most of CS2 through Bow is nothing more than a shared carriageway - half an ordinary lane of traffic). Further up Stratford High Street the cycle lanes fade away and then you're on your own, which is bloody stupid planning given that the roads have just been remodelled prior to the Olympics. But equally stupid is the lack of forethought at the roundabout itself, where no proper interface has been designed to aid transfer between Newham's cycle lane and Barclays' blue stripe. Riding east CS2 ends by vaguely dumping you on the pavement, whereas the continuation cycle lane is in the road. Meanwhile going west (where the latest fatality occurred) CS2 assumes you've ridden in from a non-existent lane on the pavement, so starts in mid-flow, rather than connecting back to the traffic lights. This end of CS2 has been optimised to merge with a continuation that doesn't yet exist, not the reality of today. No wonder it's not especially safe.
[CS2] There's only one good bit of Cycle Superhighway 2 in Bow, and that's the proper segregated lane on the pavement opposite Campbell Road. It was only opened back in the summer, but earlier this week it was suddenly closed again. The current worksite is for the construction of a new Cycle Hire docking station - the closest to the Olympic Park, so it's going to be enormous. And to build it requires digging up the pavement again, hence temporarily fencing off the Superhighway. Typical, eh? You build something better for cyclists, then something else better for cyclists, and the second gets in the way of the first. But what idiot placed these signs on the approach to the roadworks, in that order. First dismount (even though the remaining strip of pavement is very narrow and not in any way ideal for bike-wheeling). And second a blue arrow directing cyclists to the right (and pedestrians to the left). That's to the right into the main road, which is a bloody stupid place to walk a bike. It's just as well that cyclists are extremely good at ignoring instructions to dismount, because none of them are dismounting, they're riding through. But whoever placed this combination of signs on CS2 wasn't thinking, wasn't thinking at all.
