MargaretThatcher was Britain's first woman Prime Minister and, for better or worse, shaped the country we live in today. She was born in Grantham in 1925 and famously grew up in a grocer's shop, barely a quarter of a mile from the East Coast mainline. I've often looked down across the town and wondered where precisely this epicentre of political change might be, so on this occasion I got off the train and went to have a look.
This is Alfred Roberts' former shop on the corner of North Parade and Broad Street. It's just to the north of the town centre, and in October 1925 would have faced out onto the busy Great North Road. The family lived upstairs in cramped accommodation with no running water, making use of an outside toilet and (unplumbed) bath accessed across the yard. Margaret's father ran the grocery counter and operated the bacon slicer, her mother served customers in the sub post-office, and she and her elder sister Muriel helped out when they could. It was the epitome of a small business making its profit from sheer hard work.
It's not a grocer's shop any more. Grantham Chiropractic Clinic opened here in 1994 and have since rebranded as Living Health following a shift towards holistic natural therapies. Downstairs is now their reception, a welcoming spot where waiting customers can peruse leaflets and featured products, currently with an attractive autumnal window display featuring golden leaves and two squirrels. Upstairs has been transformed into twin treatment suites, so if you've ever fancied a massage or five point acupuncture in the Iron Lady's bedroom that fantasy can be comfortably realised. I'm not sure what she'd have made of her childhood home's shift from selling goods to selling services, but she'd no doubt be pleased that the external fabric of the building remains recognisably in place with a small black commemorative plaque above the front door.
The corner shop is one of the lowlier homes on North Parade, an attractive example of late 18th century linear ribbon development. Margaret's near neighbours lived in three storey red brick houses, some of which now sell for half a million which is exceptional for Grantham. The buildings and the pavement are kept separate from what would once have been a manure-strewn main road by means of a steep grass verge with occasional steps. Immediately across the street is the church of St Mary the Immaculate with its clocktower and cupola, which now has the '1 North Parade' address the Roberts once enjoyed.
What has changed dramatically since the 1930s is the road junction outside the shop, which now the corner of a busy gyratory. Pedestrians are not the priority so get to wait in ever increasing numbers as all the requisite vehicle sequences play out, which would be great for customer footfall if only the shop still sold drinks or sweets. Just beyond the Roberts' back yard is a single bus stop, no doubt only used by those under the age of 30 or who have been a failure in life. And immediately across Barrowby Road is the edge of an enormous Asda car park, not to mention a substantial Lidl - competitors whose joint presence helps explain why a grocers is no longer viable in this location.
When not working in the shop, life for the Roberts revolved around Finkin StreetMethodist Church where Alfred was a lay preacher. As a strict Wesleyan he ensured the family attended church up to four times every Sunday, where Margaret would have sat through hundreds of her father's sermons stressing social responsibility and the Protestant work ethic. The church's stumpy twin towers dominate the backstreets off Castlegate, while a fake falcon perches above the south door to help keep pigeons at bay. Grantham's Conservative Club is located close by, in a building too modern to have been frequented by the Roberts, although I very much doubt its current social offering of snooker, musical events, Luncheon Club and bingo would have appealed.
Margaret's first school was Huntingtower Road Primary which had opened in 1914. It was by no means the nearest to home, being the other side of the town centre and on the opposite side of the railway, but was selected because of a more religious slant to its curriculum. No trace of the original building exists because it's been entirely rebuilt as a colourful jagged fortress and is now known as Huntingtower Academy. The former Education Secretary might well be pleased. Margaret went on to Kesteven and Grantham Girls' Grammar School where she was bookish, hard-working and rose to become Head Girl, if not generally liked by her peers. A scholarship to study Chemistry at Oxford followed, catapulting her out of Grantham and eventually into all our lives.
The town remembers its most famous daughter in its museum (closed 2011 due to cuts, reopened by volunteers, it's what she would have wanted). A large display at the rear of the ground floor covers her early life and rise to power in some detail, with a nod to younger visitors who might need to be reminded how important she was. Exhibits include her bed from North Parade, the Aquascutum suit she wore to Cold War talks in Moscow in 1987 and some assorted silverware donated to the museum after her death. A nice touch is the selection of three 1979 election manifestos laid out in a facsimile living room very much of the time, alongside an invitation to cast your vote again with the benefit of hindsight. The gift shop will satisfy any ardent Thatchophile in need of mugs, bags or aprons.
But Grantham isn'tostentatiouslyproud of its pioneering woman Prime Minister, perhaps in recognition that she very much divides opinion. Other than a few fingerposts pointing towards her birthplace and the tiny plaque above her front door there's nothing, unlike local son Sir Isaac Newton who's plastered absolutely everywhere. Plans are afoot to give a public home to a bronzestatue originally intended for Parliament Square, but the unveiling has been repeatedly delayed and sparked arow earlier this year over the intended cost of the ceremony. Even when it does appear it'll be atop a 3m plinth to avoid vandalism, not that this'll stop the more determined protestor, of whom there will be many. Know the town, know the Iron Lady a little better.
Wed 1: Went to the pub with Work Colleague and discovered he got married quietly earlier in the year. At one point a nearby drinker joined in our conversation, having overheard me talking about Middlesbrough, and he turned out to be a big cheese working for Crossrail. Absolutely inscrutable, couldn't get anything out of him, well played sir. Thu 2: I started writing about Thamesmead, but then ABBA announced their virtual show so the Thamesmead post got put on the backburner for three weeks. Utterly amazed to realise that Benny and Bjorn were giving a press conference half a mile away. Fri 3: Cycle Superhighway 2 through Bow has started to get new signs suggesting it's been rebranded C2, i.e. Cycleway 2, although the paint on the blue lane still says CS2. One day all London's remaining Cycle Superhighways will become Cycleways, as will Quietways (which'll also be renumbered), and I know they're only trying to make the nomenclature simpler but what an unruly mess.
Sat 4: I think it's now safe to reveal that Location Number Three, my favourite Open House visit, was Lansbury Lawrence Primary School in Poplar, built as an architectural showpiece for the Festival of Britain. Gorgeousbuilding, great staff. And a special hello to the reader who went on Sunday rather than Saturday so just missed me. Sun 5: I was walking down Chatsworth Road E5 when TV chef and Great British Menu presenter Andi Oliver wafted past, and she had real presence just crossing the street. Mon 6: Finally got round to contacting my mobile data provider because they were forcing me to choose a new contract, and yay I managed to wangle a new contract for £8 less per month. That should pay for any future extra roaming charges. Tue 7: Some of the leaves on some of the trees in the London Blossom Garden are already turning red, signalling a seriously premature autumn (which is ridiculous when the temperature's just hit 30° again). Wed 8: Two things I failed to do on my trip to Eastbourne - i) make a short pilgrimage to the A2021 (because it was half a mile in the wrong direction) ii) drop into the Towner Gallery (I only admired the rainbow daubed across the exterior).
Thu 9: BestMate is flying abroad for a short European break, and he texted from City Airport to say he was about to take off, so I waved as he flew over the flat because Flightradar is brilliant. Fri 10: The Big Breakfast one-day reboot with an all-black cast of presenters was joyous nostalgic fun with a sharp modern edge. I walked past Lockkeepers Cottages during the second hour and heard yelping from the garden, but couldn't see anything through the gate because two throwback fans were holding court outside. I bet residents of the brand new flats across the canal are glad it's not a permanent return. Sat 11: We've had so many 9/11 anniversary documentaries over the last fortnight that there are none left to debut today. Some of them were damned good though, in a damned sad way. Sun 12: Something I forgot to mention during a year of writing about random City wards is that over half of them start with the letters B or C. Appropriately my first was a C and my last was a B.
Mon 13: A polar bear on a chunk of iceberg, or at least a model of one, has appeared in the river just north of the Bow roundabout. If the intention is to warn us of global warming, all it made me wonder is if the Lea might ever freeze over. Tue 14: It turns out my new mobile contract comes with free Beats headphones, which were unexpectedly delivered this morning, and why couldn't they have decided to send them six months ago when I really needed some rather than now when I have three spare freebies? Wed 15: To get to Peterborough I caught the LNER Leeds train, and although it was busy I had the entire unclassified carriage to myself, which I suspect speaks volumes about the unaffordability of walk-up tickets. Thu 16: I've decided that Wagon Wheels may be my new nemesis, because that's the second time one has made me swear.
Fri 17: I unintentionally timed my walk along the Royal Docks for the precise moment that UEL's graduation ceremony ended. Hundreds of students and their beaming parents flooded out of the marquee and thronged the waterside, so I had to weave my way very carefully to avoid stepping into dozens of once-in-a-lifetime photos. Sat 18: The upgraded staircases either side of Poplar DLR station are now open, only two years late, so I no longer have to spiral down via the platform to cross from one side to the other. Sun 19: Thanks to Ian for pointing out that a Hurricane and Spitfire were about to fly over central London, because that's why I spotted them from Mile End Park and I don't think anyone else even looked up. Mon 20: Outside Battersea Power Station (the power station, not the station) they've put James Bond's Aston Martin from Goldfinger inside a box branded with retro Corgi packaging, which is not a stunt your local cinema can pull.
Tue 21: One of my guilty BBC Sounds pleasures this month is Radio 2's Sounds of the 21st Century, an hour of hits and news snippets from each year from 2000 to 2010. It's a proper memory jogger because even the recent is now retro. It's also reminding me how I gradually fell out of love with popular music over the decade. If that's not your thing then I highly recommend How To Rebuild A City, a Radio 3 documentary on the evolution of Coventry's post war architecture. Wed 22: Confirming how diverse the East End is, today in Maryland I saw a hearse pulled by two feathery-headdressed horses outside a mosque. Thu 23: The downside of this being the anniversary of me moving into my flat is that all the quarterly, half-yearly and annual bills come at once. Fri 24: The news that Russell T Davies is coming back to take over Doctor Who is excellent and finally something to look forward to, even though (checks calendar) (sighs) it's still 26 months away. Sat 25: I-SPY a queue of 30 vehicles outside the Texaco garage in Bow Road (which normally has no queue at all). As for the queue outside the Tesco garage in Bromley-by-Bow, that could be anywhere between 20 and 80 vehicles depending on how many are merely stuck trying to get into or out of the supermarket car park. Sun 26: I-SPY no queue at all... because No Fuel. Mon 27: Highly improbably, of the 16000 photos I've uploaded to Flickr the two most favourited are of the American Embassy in Nine Elms and the escalators at Battersea Power Station station, which are less than half a mile apart.
Tue 28: ABBA Arena Update - the curved roof has now been raised into place (so is a lot higher than it looked like it was going to be). Wed 29: In November 2019 ago my landlord approved a minor cosmetic change to my kitchen. This morning it was finally completed, after five false starts due to a) ah sorry, pandemic [March 2020] b) ah sorry, factory's closed [June 2020] c) ah sorry, serious backlog of orders [October 2020] d) ah sorry, really serious backlog [March 2021] e) ah sorry, looks like we asked for the wrong size [June 2021]. This morning's job took one hour. I'm so glad that's finished. Thu 30:Five things I saw today: a) a historic Greggs, b) a temperance Coffee Palace, c) a famous Aquascutum suit, d) a nightclub named after a scientist, e) the world in a church
