diamond geezer

 Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Nottingham

posted 19:25 :

Lincoln (alas, after dark)

posted 17:23 :

Retford

posted 15:08 :

Sheffield

posted 11:49 :

St Pancras

posted 08:46 :

I'm off for a day out today.
I might be able to report back on the way round.
Or it might be very quiet on here.

posted 07:00 :

 Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Now showing at the ICA on The Mall, an exhibition of all the works of art appearing on, or short listed for, the Fourth Plinth in Trafalgar Square.

From Ecce Homo in 1999, to the big blue cockerel due to appear next, they're all here. That's the models used for the judging process, not the real things because they'd be huge. A series of newspaper clippings accompany the display, chronicling the praise and vilification each commission attracted. Alison Lapper Pregnant seems to have got the most mixed press, so maybe it's just as well the guano-splattered car alongside was never selected. Pity about the brick Battenburg, the sky mirrors and the anti-war protestors, though. My favourite remains One And Other, where members of the public took their turn atop the plinth, and a video replays some joyous highlights at the far end of the gallery. Open until January 20th.

Sent from a bench in St James's Park watching the pelicans

posted 14:56 :

I've just finished writing all my Christmas cards, narrowly in time for the second class posting deadline. I used to send 70 cards, now it's less than 30. Shamefacedly, I've met up with less than ten of the recipients in the last year.

Sent from my oohitcandothatPhone

posted 12:15 :

Struggling with the tiny tappy-tappy menu, and the predictive text that doesn't work the way I'm used to and keeps auto-completing wrongly. And I can't find things that ought to be obvious, so I'm Googling for "how to" instructions on my laptop all the time. And I don't want the bloody Yahoo Stocks app popping up every time I try to access the browser, but it's always lurking somewhere. And I really must learn how to turn the sound off before it embarrasses me in public, and how to take photos, and where Twitter is, and how to send a text message, and how you do that clever countdown thing to find out when the next bus is due, and a million and one other secret things. I'm so behind the curve, but everyone else I know seems to have got the hang of it so I'm sure I'll be assimilated into the In Crowd sooner or later.

Sent from my sleek thin cutting-edge hipsterMobile

posted 09:09 :

I stuck with my old mobile phone for five and a half years. I wonder if that's some kind of record?

Sent from my infuriatingly-non-intuitive over-sensitive fruit-relatedPhone

posted 00:46 :

 Monday, December 17, 2012

What's going on with Walk London?

That's the ten-year-old organisation charged with developing, improving and promoting London’s top seven walking routes. From the Capital Ring to the Jubilee Walkway, someone has to keep the paths waymarked, diversions logged and ensure that the public knows where each route goes. There are signposts to check, downloadable leaflets to update and promotional activities to undertake. Just, it seems, not so much lately.

The Walk London website was revamped last year, from a fairly bespoke site to something that wouldn't need updating so often. All the pages for all sections of all walks were set out identically, with generic links banished to a left and right margin. Printable maps were hidden behind a link that said "leaflets", and route directions became available as a separate pdf. Where proper (glossy) section-by-section leaflets had once been sent out by post, these were discontinued and a series of bland overview leaflets made available instead. Now even these have faded away, partly because paper's a thing of the past, but also to save a large chunk of money.

The website used to have a news section, but that completely disappeared in the revamp. Walk London used to run weekend rambles, about fifty different walks three times a year, but those haven't restarted since January. Lots of fresh information was posted when the Jubilee Greenway was launched in the summer, including a full set of innovative video descriptions. There was a flurry of Olympic walking activity, indeed the Walk London website had all the most accurate information about which parts of the Greenway and adjacent footpaths would be closed when. But nobody's been back and updated the information since, and the lengthy spiel on "Temporary diversions" is now weeks and months out of date.

Walk London's Twitter feed last tweeted over a month ago. There were just two tweets in September and three in October, compared with, say, 28 in March. It's as if whoever was responsible for the account has lost interest, or isn't even there any more. More of the action switched over to Facebook, which is the new default option for public organisations who can't be bothered to maintain their own web presence any more. But even that stuttered to a halt in the middle of last month, with not a single promotional message since.

Walk London used to employ a number of staff. I met a few at the Thames Festival several years ago, back in the days when public bodies made an effort at this Mayoral event. They had people to spare, and leaflets-a-go-go, and a positive perambulation message to impart. I wonder where all those people went. There again, the campaign's always officially been an offshoot of Walk England, a group of professional nationwide encouragers, and they're still going strong. And TfL still contribute a non-zero part of their budget to support the campaign, so all should be well.

"Outcome monitoring on the Walk London network is undertaken annually to assess the effectiveness of TfL's investment and to confirm progress against the 2012 delivery deadline."

But where are they now? I'm not complaining, merely asking. Did they make everyone at Walk London redundant? Did whoever's in charge of marketing lose interest? Is there no more money left? Did everything peak for the Olympics? Or have we just entered a long seasonal void where it's assumed nobody goes walking any more?

Most importantly, is anybody still out there, paid or otherwise, keeping an eye on London's 390-mile long network of strategic walks? I had a lovely stroll along one of them at the weekend, and I probably wouldn't have thought to go, nor followed the right route, without Walk London's extended input. The capital's best walking project could easily fade away without due care and attention. It would be such an easy thing to lose. Fingers crossed that won't be happening any time soon.

12 noon update: Hurrah.

Indeed, double hurrah.

3pm update: Not so hurrah. In the comments, Rob says, "Poor old Walk London has had its budget and staff slashed. I think they are doing the best that they can on the resources available. I used to be a volunteer Route Ranger on the London LOOP but last year we were all told that they could no longer afford the public liability insurance to keep us on. A great shame, but it seems walking for leisure has dropped way down TfL's priority list."

Tuesday update: A response from Amanda Searle at Walk England
Thanks for raising the question 'What's going on with Walk London ?'! We're delighted to say that last week Walk England and TFL agreed the 2012/13 contract. From March 2012 until this point Walk England have been managing the website, social media channels and email enquiries as a gesture of goodwill. The budget to March 2013 has now been confirmed. It is reduced from previous years but happily we are able to put on a free walking weekend in January. We are also delighted to say that meetings have been arranged with TFL in January to discuss next year's budget. We are optimistic. Covering another of your points: The Boroughs are now responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of the routes. We pass any problem reported to Walk London on to them. I hope this goes some way to shedding light on the situation. Thanks.

Friday update: The list of 33 Winter Wanders guided walks is now available. There'll be several short strolls in town, some meatier suburban hikes, plus a special booking-required look inside Crossness Pumping Station. Stick the 26th and 27th of January in your diary.

posted 07:00 :

 Sunday, December 16, 2012

WALK LONDON
The London Loop [section 12]
Uxbridge to Harefield (5 miles)

The Colne Valley forms a natural barrier along the western edge of London. The river and the Grand Union canal thread along the border, with a necklace of lakes (formerly gravel pits) to either side. Section 12 is almost exclusively a waterside stroll, no doubt green and pleasant in the summer, but a little bleaker midwinter.

Uxbridge was in Christmas mode. A fir tree in the High Street, Santa selling helium balloons outside the shopping mall, the Salvation Army band playing The First Nowell. I don't think I've ever been somewhere where the people walk quite so slowly, so it's no hardship to escape down the hill to the canal. This quarter of Uxbridge resembles Slough, and not in a good way, apart from a couple of characterful pubs dotted in amongst the lowrise offices.

The Loop proper begins at the Swan and Bottle, as does the Colne Valley Trail which follows the canal all the way to Rickmansworth. A short distance ahead is the first of four locks, Uxbridge Lock, this one double width and being put to good use by two narrowboats as I passed [photo]. The flats on the western bank are a recent erection on the site of a large flour mill. This was originally owned by William King, who named the building Kingsmill, and yes, that's precisely where the loaf-of-bread brand name originated.

Visit an urban canal in December and the banks are often lined with overwintering narrowboats. There are plenty along this stretch, a short bike ride from the shops, with the towpath littered with chopped branches and the occasional axe. While one boat owner crawled inside his floating woodshed, his dog trooped out onto the path and engaged me in a stand-off. I thought I was going to have to abandon my walk there and then, but the hound eventually lost interest and slunk back aboard the boat allowing me to (deep breath) slip past.

The viaduct ahead carries the A40, just before it becomes the M40, across the Colne Valley. And then we're out into proper open countryside, mostly flat and marshy. This is Buckinghamshire, just, then a few hundred yards ahead it's London again, only marginally.

Just before Denham Lock, a footbridge zigzags left off across the river. Take it. OK, it's a diversion, but within half a mile it leads to the Colne Valley Park Visitor Centre, and that's rather lovely. A timber pavilion round the back of a golf course, it's open every day of the year (even Christmas) for the purveyance of information and comestibles. Hot drinks cost barely a quid, served by a cheery volunteer, and there's a particularly good selection of local leaflets and publications too. I guess the place is kept open by the number of dogwalkers round here, the only convenient access being by car, but also worth a break if you're ever here on foot. [photo]

With a descent of eleven feet, Denham Lock is the deepest on the entire Grand Union Canal [photo]. It needs to be deep because the Frays River passes almost directly underneath, such are the convolutions of natural and manmade waterways hereabouts. At sunnier times the grass behind the lockkeeper's cottage is opened as Fran's Tea Garden, but that's more an undercover offering at this time of year, and there was no sign of any business on my passing.

The next footbridge is steep, both up and down, leading across to the first of a sequence of very large lakes. This is Denham Quarry, an area of former gravel pits, now an overwintering hotspot for grebes, shovelers and tufted ducks. The Loop continues along a potholed track between canal and lake, with the occasional angler in a landrover sploshing his way to and fro. Elsewhere they lurk by the waterside in bivouacs, maggots wriggling, awaiting a freshwater bite.

The next viaduct carries the Chiltern railway line, which is Victorian brick and therefore acceptable, but a future adjacent development doesn't have the local community onside. HS2 escapes the capital precisely here, its viaduct on a longer diagonal trajectory across the middle of a lake. A spur line to Heathrow might also branch off here, the majority in tunnel, but a gaping scar left where it buries underground.

For the first time on this walk the Loop deviates from the water's edge, but only because a marina's in the way. Again it's full of narrowboats going nowhere, a few with steaming chimneys, the majority empty. A brief patch of woodland leads to South Harefield, one of London's least well-known settlements, although all you'll see is a commercial estate, a hump bridge and a pub - the appropriately named Horse and Barge.

And then something very peculiar - at least on my visit - an entire mile of canal towpath without a human in sight. Admittedly it was the hour before dusk, but there wasn't a narrowboat, nor a jogger, nor even another walker heading in the opposite direction. Hemmed in between dark trees and a massive lake, I also had to negotiate a particularly muddy stretch of footpath for much of the way. I'm not selling this well, I know, but it's probably glorious along here from spring onwards. [photo]



Black Jack's Lock saw the return of civilisation, and a former watermill that's now a particularly out-of-the-way bed and breakfast [photo]. One particular moored narrowboat displayed a sign reading "For Ducks Sake Slow Down", which might have been a message to waterborne traffic, or might have been for the benefit of waterfowl using the canal as a runway.

It was raining steadily as I reached Coppermill Bridge, now fractionally into Hertfordshire, and the end of this section of the Loop. A welcoming light, and the hearty smell of pie, came from the Coy Carp pub, but I wasn't hanging around. I set off up the hill to Harefield to catch the bus, turning back (with mild awe) to see the darkening Colne Valley spread out before me. I hadn't realised quite how deep and green it was while walking it. Hopefully section 13, when I eventually return, will make that a lot clearer.

» London Loop section 12: official map and directions; map
» Who else has walked it? Stephen, Oatsy, Tim, Londonist, Mark, Paul, Paul, Tetramesh, Richard
» See also section 3, section 4, section 5, section 9, section 15, section 17, section 20, section 23, section 24

posted 00:12 :

 Saturday, December 15, 2012

How did I miss this? Has it been kept quiet, or am I just very unobservant?

A TfL consultation is underway for "further safety improvements at Bow roundabout". Earlier this year they provided a cycle early-start on the eastbound approach, and now they're proposing something similar for westbound riders. The consultation opened on 28 November, and it closes on 19 December. Best hurry up if you want make your voice heard, and it might even be positive this time.

TfL reassure us that the eastbound changes are working well. They've been monitoring with cameras, and claim that "the eastbound early-start has been effective in reducing the left turning conflict risk that it was designed to address". It would have been hard to increase it, to be frank. TfL also say that "the cycle lane on the approach is well-used, with significantly fewer cyclists using the footway than before". And you'd expect that, because who wouldn't rather use a dedicated cycle lane than a pavement given the choice. A significant proportion of cyclists still don't use the facilities appropriately, that's my observation, and first-timers often don't understand how the forest of lights works. But, lessons learned, how do the suggested westbound changes measure up? [map]

Almost exactly the same set-up is proposed on the Stratford High Street side as on Bow Road. A dozen metres of road will be painted blue to become an early-start zone, immediately ahead of the roundabout. All other vehicles will start further back at separate lights, giving those on two wheels a head start before anything turns left on top of them. If used properly, by all road users, further deaths at this accident black spot might be made much less likely. Equally, as I've seen on the other side, the early-start may tempt more cyclists to jump the red lights because it now looks safer to do so.

The westbound approach will be via a short segregated cycle lane, as on the eastbound, preceded by a longer section that's merely a painted strip down the side of the road. But there's one added bonus here, something the Bow side hasn't got, and that's evasive action at the bus stop. Buses stopping at the Bow Flyover currently pull into a layby, and it would be seriously dangerous to have them cutting across a cycle lane then back out again. So the plan is to fill in the lay-by, shifting the bus stop out into the main traffic, and then use the added space round the back for a bike lane bypass. Clever and very safe, you'd think, and you'd be right... for cyclists.

There is a potential problem, and that's for anyone trying to use the bus. The former layby becomes a long thin island, surrounded on one side by the main road and on the other by the cycle lane. Those alighting from a bus won't be able to escape without crossing one or other, most probably the cycle lane, and those trying to catch a bus will face the same dilemma. TfL have thought about this, and plan to lay a crossing point adjacent to the bus stop. Will cyclists pause to allow pedestrians to walk 150cm across their bike lane? I doubt it. Will pedestrians cross the cycle lane wherever the hell they like rather than where the designers would like them to? You can bet on it.

And that's about it. The new cycle lane will only cover the last hundred metres of Stratford High Street, and before that you're on your own. Cycle Superhighway 2 never extended this far, and still won't, because these are merely improvements to the set-up at the roundabout. But improvements they truly are. Perhaps you'd like to nip off now and tell TfL's consultation exercise how much you approve.

Or, if you're a pedestrian, maybe not. This is the third tweak to the Bow roundabout in twelve months, yet there's still nothing to make this lethal junction any safer for those on foot. The roundabout now has two early-start boxes for cyclists, some sculptures in the middle of the roundabout, even illuminations to make the concrete look pretty at night, but still no safe means of crossing any of the four exit roads. Additional lights would slow down the flow of the traffic, remember, and that's not permitted these days.

Meanwhile on the eastbound side, the Bow Flyover bus stop continues to be an embarrassing point of confrontation. The Cycle Superhighway passes straight through the lay-by, unless there's a bus blocking it, in which case dangerous manoeuvres are required to slip back into the segregated lane. A bus stop bypass would be ideal here except there isn't room, not without buying up some of McDonalds' car park or closing off the lay-by altogether.

At least TfL promise "We continue to explore further improvements for cyclists and pedestrians as part of planned longer-term regeneration of the Bow area", but I still can't see how this knotty problem might be solved to the satisfaction of all parties.

Whatever, the latest consultation ends on Wednesday, and then construction of the new cycle early-start begins in January. The update at the Bow roundabout will happen whether you say you like it or not, but your views might help improve similar rollouts elsewhere in town.

posted 01:00 :

 Friday, December 14, 2012

Last night I walked to the other end of Bow Road, ladled myself a cup of mulled wine and watched Danny Boyle illuminate a giant red ribbon. My Thursday evenings aren't usually like that.



This is the former St Clement's Hospital, which looms over Bow Road like some Victorian haunted house. It started life in 1849 as the City of London Union Workhouse, before being converted into an infirmary where mental patients came for examination and assessment. 100 years ago it became a hospice for the chronically ill, the Bow Institution, with beds for more than 750 patients. By 1959 it had changed its purpose once again, becoming a psychiatric hospital, and so it stayed until 2005 when the local NHS Trust closed the place down. Since then the buildings have been boarded up and sealed off, awaiting demolition or transformation into flats. Normally this would mean a commercial development with an inadequate proportion of affordable housing, but St Clement's is going to be very different, and East London will be all the better for it.

These four and a half acres are to be the site of London's very first Community Land Trust. Bought up by the community, for the community, and 100% affordable. Some of the old buildings will be reused, others will be knocked down, and a mixture of flats and family-sized homes fitted into the rectangular site. From Bow Road all the way down to the Tower Hamlets Cemetery, the Trust will ensure that properties are bought and sold at below market price. The local community have been involved in planning what goes where, with a series of workshops at the start of the month attended by 350 people. Impressively these have already borne fruit, and the outcomes were presented (with videos and slides) at a public meeting last night. [some details]

How wonderful that this new housing stock will be used by ordinary folk rather than being the sole preserve of bankers and buy-to-let investors. To celebrate, they invited a local millionaire round to switch on the lights. Danny Boyle lives less than quarter of a mile away, in one of the gorgeous Georgian streets off the Mile End Road. Previous to that he lived up a tower block directly overlooking the hospital site - he told us so - and how exciting to discover that 2012's Man of The Year is an E3 resident. Danny stood on the makeshift stage and offered his support, praising all the good work that's been done so far and hoping for great things to come.

We stood and smiled and listened, well-wrapped in our woolly hats and scarves. Most of us had a plastic beaker of mulled wine in our hands, although that had nearly run out because so many people had turned up. The miniature very-mincey mince pies were disappearing fast too, served up from a table strewn with wintry evergreens. It's hard to imagine a commercial housing developer going to such an effort, but such is the attention to detail a group of community-focused East Londoners can muster. Three, two, one, Danny pressed the button which illuminated a 15ft red ribbon on the front of the hospital. A bow in Bow, how clever. It was a striking sight, and caused many a passer-by to turn and stare and wonder why this dead building had suddenly awoken. [video]



The first meeting of the St Clement's Community Forum will be held at 7pm on Thursday 17 January at Bow Road Methodist Church, and everyone is welcome. Work on the vision for the Community Land Trust will continue, and a planning application is due to be submitted next spring. This won't be the usual bland overpriced matchbox development, it'll have a conscience and a heart. With values similar to those in Danny's Olympic Opening Ceremony, St Clement's is a development of which London can be properly proud.

posted 07:00 :

 Thursday, December 13, 2012

On my way to work yesterday I saw a man almost killed by a puffin.

That's a puffin crossing, the new-style pedestrian crossing that's been slowly replacing pelicans since 2006. My local pelican disappeared as part of road improvements in the run-up to the Olympics, and now we have a puffin instead. A Pedestrian user-friendly intelligent crossing is better, so we're told, but the old pelican probably wouldn't have caused yesterday's near-miss accident.

Puffin crossings have two major differences, deemed improvements. First they monitor pedestrian movements, keeping the traffic lights at red if anyone's still crossing and green if they've already crossed. That's good, clever, techno-impressive stuff. And secondly they switch the pedestrian signal from high on the lights opposite to low on a pole alongside. That's not so good, in my experience, and it's what encouraged a fellow commuter to walk into the road without thinking.

The set-up at this particular crossing is simple. There are two lanes of main road, and only one-way traffic. It's normally busy enough in the morning that you won't get across unless you press the button, and pressing the button eventually stops the traffic. But to spot that the lights have changed you have to look to your left for the green man to appear, or look up and deduce that the traffic-facing green light has switched off. Perfectly normal, utterly deliberate, the modern default.

Six of us were waiting yesterday, five on my side of the road and one on the other, while a steady stream of vehicles rolling by. It was cold, we were tired, and attention spans probably weren't at their optimum. Then a white van stopped in the lane closest to us. The driver didn't need to, there was roadspace ahead he could easily have moved into, but instead he thought he'd be kind and and let us across. Most of us waited because we couldn't see beyond the van, but one particular gentleman took his cue and started walking forward.

Had this still been a pelican crossing he'd have seen the red man shining directly ahead of him and probably thought twice. But instead the only clue at eye level was on a pole ninety degrees to his left, and he hadn't been looking there. You don't normally, not instinctively, not when you've been conditioned by several decades of staring forwards.

And so he walked out in front of the van, and was about to stride out across lane two when the sole lady waiting on the opposite pavement cried out. She'd seen what none of us on our side could, a red car speeding up the blind side behind the halted van on an imminent collision course. Its driver knew the traffic lights were still at green, so had made no attempt whatsoever to slow down, and continued forward oblivious. Ulp.

Our potential victim was jolted back into consciousness by the lady's cry. He slowed a little, just in time, and hence just missed being knocked flying. Shaken he retreated to the pavement, then the white van drove on, and all six of us waited for the traffic to stop properly. It could have been much nastier, whereas instead it fell somewhere between shocking and embarrassing. And all because the red man was hidden in plain sight where nobody thought to look.

According to the Puffin Crossings Good Practice Guide (a 58-page pdf from the Department for Transport), puffins have many benefits. Simplified displays reduce potential confusion for pedestrians (no more flashing green man) and drivers (no more flashing amber). Pedestrian demands can be cancelled when pedestrians cross prematurely, and the clearance time is always extended to allow slow pedestrians more time to cross. All should be good and lovely. But then there are those relocated lightboxes.

"With farside pedestrian signals, pedestrians look away from approaching traffic to see the pedestrian signal. When pedestrians look at a nearside Puffin pedestrian display they are also looking in the direction of approaching traffic. The traffic lights point left, and the pedestrian signals point right, the idea being that pedestrians should look towards the oncoming traffic. Seeing the approaching traffic and the pedestrian display at the same time should reduce accident risk."

Puffinisation has been carried out with good intentions, but it's not always an improvement. If pedestrians looked at these new nearside signals that'd be great, but often they don't, or won't, or even can't. Nearside signals are always concealed if you walk up to them from the wrong side, whereas signals on the far side of the road are visible across a much wider angle of approach. Nearside signals can also be completely obscured because someone else is standing next to them. But most importantly nearside signals aren't positioned where they ought to be, where generations of Britons instinctively look, and so their safety message is summarily ignored.

Well-meaning civil servants armed with safety research and risk registers have deemed that a puffin crossing is safer if used properly, so puffin crossings are what we now get. But we don't use them as the bureaucrats planned, despite their best intentions, so most of these supposed safety benefits are negated. Instead we end up using our wits to spot a gap in the traffic, almost as if no crossing mechanism had been installed, dashing out when it looks safe even if it isn't.

I'm not saying that yesterday morning's near miss accident could never have happened at a pelican crossing. Walking into the traffic when one of the lanes is concealed is a bloody stupid thing to do, lights or no lights. But surely it must be possible to devise a pedestrian crossing with farside signals that people will actually look at, to encourage them to better take control of their own safety, rather than stick with lateral lights that people ignore. I'd prefer to see puffins extinct than to watch another duped pedestrian put their life at risk unnecessarily.

posted 07:00 :

 Wednesday, December 12, 2012

12/12/12

It's a very special day today. All the twelves. So special that everyone looking at today's date will say "woo, look at that", even Americans. Three numbers the same is incredibly rare, indeed so exceptional that we only get twelve such dates a century...

1/1/01, 2/2/02, 3/3/03, 4/4/04, 5/5/05, 6/6/06, 7/7/07, 8/8/08, 9/9/09, 10/10/10, 11/11/11, 12/12/12

The last three on that list are the most special of all - triplets of double-digit numbers - with 11/11/11 the ultimate perfect match. But today's your lot. You've now lived through the entire list, and you'll never see another.

Almost as very-special are dates consisting solely of identical digits. We had three of these last year, but again such dates are very rare. There are only a dozen in every century, with the next almost a decade hence.

1/1/11, 11/1/11, 1/11/11, 2/2/22, 22/2/22, 3/3/33, 4/4/44, 5/5/55, 6/6/66, 7/7/77, 8/8/88, 9/9/99

If the twenty-four dates above form the calendar's Premiership, then simple counting sequences are the Championship. There are twenty-three such triplets, eleven ascending and twelve descending.

1/2/03, 2/3/04, 3/4/05, 4/5/06, 5/6/07, 6/7/08, 7/8/09, 8/9/10, 9/10/11, 10/11/12, 11/12/13
2/1/00, 3/2/01, 4/3/02, 5/4/03, 6/5/04, 7/6/05, 8/7/06, 9/8/07, 10/9/08, 11/10/09, 12/11/10, 13/12/11

These are in-your-face enough for most people to notice, and are usually the signal for a flurry of tweets saying "woo, it's precisely 07:08:09 10/11/12" or the like. But again they're really quite rare. And, with the exception of one final straggler in 52 weeks time, they too have all passed by.

If considering digits rather than numbers, however, then there are more ascending and descending sequences to celebrate. Not many more, but fourteen still to look forward to.

1/2/34, 2/3/45, 12/3/45, 3/4/56, 23/4/56, 4/5/67, 5/6/78, 6/7/89
3/2/10, 4/3/21, 5/4/32, 6/5/43, 7/6/54, 8/7/65, 9/8/76

And then there are several additional dates of arithmetical interest. Precisely additional sometimes, for that category of dates where the day plus the month equals the year. Take for example the first day of last month, which was 1/11/12. You might not have got excited about it, but 1+11=12 was good enough to elevate this particular date into the special addition category. There were eleven such dates this year, one in every month except December, and there'll be twelve more every year from 2013 to 2030. Here are the 'addition' dates for 2013...

12/1/13, 11/2/13, 10/3/13, 9/4/13, 8/5/13, 7/6/13, 6/7/13, 5/8/13, 4/9/13, 3/10/13, 2/11/13, 1/12/13 (and 353 other dates this century)

It's no coincidence that there are 365 addition dates altogether. Every single day-plus-month combination adds to give a possible year, with the exception of Leap Day 29th February where 29/2/31 doesn't exist. Less than 20% of the 21st century's addition dates have passed, so we still have plenty more of these to enjoy.

Let's move on to subtraction. Every year from 2000 to 2019 sees twelve subtractable dates, one per month, then they gradually fade away. From the first of the century on 1/1/00 to the last on 31/1/30, there are 299 of these in total. Here, for example, are all the 'subtraction' dates for 2013...

14/1/13, 15/2/13, 16/3/13, 17/4/13, 18/5/13, 19/6/13, 20/7/13, 21/8/13, 22/9/13, 23/10/13, 24/11/13, 25/12/13

Americans with their month/day order saw no subtraction dates in 2012, indeed will see no more this century. But we've got another on Christmas Eve, because twenty-four subtract twelve is twelve, and then a further 143 to go.

My favourites are the multiplicative dates. They're a bit more subtle, a bit less obvious, so they make me smile even if most people never notice them. A simple times table like 6/2/12 might be clear enough, but who'd spot 26/3/78 or 13/7/91 unless they had a particular mathematical bent? There are 212 such dates altogether, a little better spread out than all the other dates we've considered so far. Here, for example, are all the 'multiplication' dates for the second half of the century...

25/2/50, 10/5/50, 5/10/50, 17/3/51, 26/2/52, 13/4/52, 27/2/54, 18/3/54, 9/6/54, 6/9/54, 11/5/55, 5/11/55, 28/2/56, 14/4/56, 8/7/56, 7/8/56, 19/3/57, 20/3/60, 15/4/60, 12/5/60, 10/6/60, 6/10/60, 5/12/60, 21/3/63, 9/7/63, 7/9/63, 16/4/64, 8/8/64, 13/5/65, 22/3/66, 11/6/66, 6/11/66, 17/4/68, 23/3/69, 14/5/70, 10/7/70, 7/10/70, 24/3/72, 18/4/72, 12/6/72, 9/8/72, 8/9/72, 6/12/72, 25/3/75, 15/5/75, 19/4/76, 11/7/77, 7/11/77, 26/3/78, 13/6/78, 20/4/80, 16/5/80, 10/8/80, 8/10/80, 27/3/81, 9/9/81, 28/3/84, 21/4/84, 14/6/84, 12/7/84, 7/12/84, 17/5/85, 29/3/87, 22/4/88, 11/8/88, 8/11/88, 30/3/90, 18/5/90, 15/6/90, 10/9/90, 9/10/90, 13/7/91, 23/4/92, 31/3/93, 19/5/95, 24/4/96, 16/6/96, 12/8/96, 8/12/96, 14/7/98, 11/9/99, 9/11/99

Some years do better than others for multiplication. 2060 and 2072 appear in the list six times (as do 2012, 2030, 2036 and 2048), but the best year for multiplicative dates is 2024 with seven. Only twenty-one years have none at all, and it'll be 2037 before we reach the first of those.

At the bottom of the arithmetical ranking comes division. These dates aren't quite so exciting, nor indeed as common, because dividing a day by a month generally leaves a remainder. Many are boring divisions with a 1 in them, like 12/1/12, which ought to be excluded because they've already appeared in the multiplication list. But there are 58 other dates unique to division, of which only 26/2/13 and 28/2/14 have yet to occur.

Here's how many special dates of each type I think there are in a century (being careful not to double-count any repeats when calculating the total).

type of special date	first and last	in a century
equal numbers	1/1/01 to 12/12/12	12
repeated digits	1/1/11 to 9/9/99	12
ascending sequence	1/2/03 to 11/12/13	11
descending sequence	2/1/00 to 13/12/11	12
ascending digits	1/2/34 to 6/7/89	8
descending digits	3/2/10 to 9/8/76	7
addition	1/1/02 to 31/12/43	365
subtraction	1/1/00 to 31/1/30	299
multiplication	1/1/01 to 9/11/99	212
division	2/2/01 to 28/2/14	58
	total	993

So, if my calculations are correct, every century contains a total of 993 special calendar dates. That means a day picked at random has about a 2½% chance of being special, according to my subjective definition of what special is.

And which is the most special year of the century for special dates? Why, it's 2012, with 33 altogether.

11/1/12, 12/1/12, 13/1/12, 6/2/12, 10/2/12, 14/2/12, 24/2/12, 4/3/12, 9/3/12, 15/3/12, 3/4/12, 8/4/12, 16/4/12, 7/5/12, 17/5/12, 2/6/12, 6/6/12, 18/6/12, 5/7/12, 19/7/12, 4/8/12, 20/8/12, 3/9/12, 21/9/12, 2/10/12, 22/10/12, 1/11/12, 10/11/12, 23/11/12, 1/12/12, 12/12/12, 24/12/12

Eleven additions, twelve subtractions, six multiplications, a division, one ascending sequence, and today's glorious triple. No other year can beat that.

In this, the calendar's most special year of the century, today is the most special day of the year. Twelve twelve twelve. Enjoy this freakish repeat while you can, because you'll never see its like again.

posted 00:12 :

 Tuesday, December 11, 2012

I had an hour to kill last night so I went to the theatre. Not to see a play, but to admire a foyer full of photographs. Every year the National Theatre plays host to the winners of the Landscape Photographer of the Year competition, alternatively known as Take A View. Over a hundred photographs are featured, blown up to enormo-size so that you can admire every last gorgeous pixel. No nasty red-eyed party pics, no blurry Instagram cameos, no bland family snaps, just proper soaring landscape masterpieces. [winners]

The exhibition's in the Lyttelton Foyer, which is up one or maybe two flights of stairs somewhere near the back of the theatre probably. I had to negotiate the set-up phase of a posh reception, past a table of wine glasses and two immaculate staff waiting to greet the night's first fortunate guests, but you'll have it easier. The opening hours are easy too, from 9.30am to 11pm every Monday to Saturday (until 12th January), plus Sunday afternoons. Admission free.

There are several categories, which essentially boil down to The Countryside, In Towns, With People In and I'm Quite Young. The rural shots are arguably the most awesome. Rolling fields, crashing waves, snowy hilltops cascading down into a sweeping valley as the sunlight dances off a crystal lake, that sort of thing. Some of the photographers have been lucky, whereas others have been utterly deliberate in their pursuit of the perfect shot. You don't end up on the summit of a Scottish mountain at sunrise by accident, nor stumble upon a dewy Cotswold field near a clump of trees with just the right amount of mist rolling by.

Dawn is definitely the favoured time for getting your photo into the winners enclosure, with the pre-dusk "golden hour" in second place. Freak weather conditions help too, with snow and frost embroidering many a shot with magic pixie dust. One runner-up got his shot by striding out into the waves near a lighthouse during a storm. It seems that taking your photo in winter aids your chances, not least because the trees have much more interesting shapes at this time of year. Long exposures are good too, the longer the better to get that swirling ethereal quality the judges love.

As for the Urban View category, here atmosphere and texture are key, with several of the photos delivered in stark black and white. London fares well, I'd say too well, with a couple of highly commendeds snapped immediately outside the National Theatre after seeing last year's competition. Even the overall winning shot comes from a city rather than the countryside, a stark terrace of tenements tumbling down a steep hill in Port Glasgow. Although it only won by default.

There was a scandal this year when the judges' runaway favourite photograph had to be disqualified. They loved David Byrne's shot of the upturned boats near Lindisfarne Castle on Holy Island, beautifully illuminated beneath an angry sky, and awarded it first prize. But fellow competitor Tim Parkin wasn't convinced, noting that the ground and aerial lighting effects in the winning photo were mutually inconsistent. This revelation forced David to admit he'd added the clouds with Photoshop "because the sky was a bit boring", and he was sorry but he hadn't read the competition rules properly. And then he returned the £10000 cash prize, tail between his legs.

Whatever, the remainder of the digital canvases make for a most impressive collection. Each individual shot looks like it was taken with serious kit, i.e. mega-lenses and tripods, but also with a serious eye for epic framing. I always walk out of this exhibition inspired to embark on a quest for the perfect landscape photo, yet convinced my talents and equipment are entirely inadequate for the job. You may have a better portfolio, and a better chance of appearing in next year's winners gallery. Just make sure you read the rules carefully, and remember to set your alarm clock for two hours before sunrise.

posted 07:00 :

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