The highestpoints in London's four northernmost boroughs run along the border with Hertfordshire. And they're proper high, all four of them.
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Hillingdon: Potter Street Hill 134 metres (7th out of 33) [map][map]
A lot of Hillingdon is fairly flat - it's why Heathrow Airport and RAF Northolt were built here. But head to north of the borough and the land bubbles up to heights the equal of Hampstead Heath. The station to go to... and this is obvious once you've thought about it... is Northwood Hills. The name's a Metroland invention, but the situation's about right, with suburban avenues beyond the Pinner Road rising inexorably higher and higher. One proper summit is the Hogs Back Open Space below Hillside Crescent, still farmland until the 1950s, now surrounded by a Bungalow Conservation Area. But that's nothing compared to Potter Street Hill, a surprisingly leafy lane that tracks the border between Hillingdon and Harrow. The best view comes a short way up before the trees intrude, back down across gabled rooftops towards Ruislip and the Colne Valley. But up here the houses are far more exclusive, great detached hideaways set inside secluded acres of garden, with names like Antolido and The Sloes. The lane is half a mile long and bordered by barely a dozen properties, because it's in shady corners like this that London's richer residents buy seclusion and delight. [3 photos]
The top of the hill is a triple-H intersection, where Hillingdon meets Harrow meets Hertfordshire. You can tell it's the right spot because there's a cast-iron coal post plonked on the verge, marked with the City of London's insignia, and in remarkably good nick. The road from London up to Herts is very narrow and blocked by bollards, one of which looks like it might be retractable if ever the emergency services had to rush through. The houses are even grander on the Oxhey side, plus there's another of those covered reservoirs I keep finding on highest points, this tucked into some rather lovely woods. On the Harrow side a warren of private roads extends beyond a smart entrance lodge, which you're only supposed to drive past if you live here or are heading to Pinner Hill Golf Club. I ventured past and set off an automated "you are being recorded by security cameras" message, so made sure I strode around a bit more just for show. And on the Hillingdon side, nothing so grand, just a National Grid portakabin fenced securely in the top corner of a school playing field. An intriguing spot to visit, this secluded cul-de-sac summit, with more to see than my map had suggested, but I can't imagine ever needing to come back. by tube: Northwood Hills by bus: H13
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Harrow: Bushey Heath 153 metres (3rd out of 33) [map][map]
You probably wouldn't have guessed that Harrow holds bronze medal position in the league table of highest London boroughs. But there's quite a scarp above Stanmore, at the point where the Jubilee line halts and the Green Belt begins. One flank is Brockley Hill, up which Watling Street ascends, reaching a pretty-high point by the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital. But Stanmore Hill rises even higher, to a sort-of plateau around Bushey Heath, and what turns out to be the highest point in North London. It was also the highest point in Middlesex, back when that was a county, and is higher above sea level than the top pod on the London Eye and the chimneys of Battersea Power Station. It's just a shame that it's not a very interesting spot, not quite. [3 photos]
It almost is, but the Hertfordshire border fractionally lops off the top of the hill. The land on the non-London side rises two metres further, and it's here that three more covered reservoirs have been built to take full gravitational advantage. The housebuilders of Bushey Heath grabbed the remainder of the upland for suburban development, one of Watford's more aspirational outposts, and would have been more so if they'd ever got their tube station. North London's peak is on Magpie Hall Road, a cut-through from Harrow Weald to the M1, close to a fairly generic crossroads. Here a single avenue of fairly ordinary houses is tucked into a grassy corner dominated by a run of pine trees and conifers - that's Alpine Walk. Across the road is an Italian restaurant called The Alpine, a little dressy from the look of the family I saw stumbling out into the car park, but also well-stuffed and inebriated.
Just down the hill, definitely in Harrow this time, is the entrance to a very famous wartime hideaway. This is Bentley Priory, from whose stately rooms RAF Fighter Command won the battle in the skies, and still an RAF building in 2008. Part is now a brand new museum, but the remainder is becoming luxury housing, not just the Georgian centrepiece but more modern mansion homes for the seriously rich laid out along exclusive crescents in private parkland. Even the enormous marketing suite at the top of the drive has been built with a classical portico in a show of wealth, or I'd say vulgar ostentatiousness. Mere mortals should instead explore Stanmore Common, whose splendid woody acres feed the Aldenham Reservoir, and so nearly the top spot in the borough, but not quite. by tube: Stanmore by bus: 142, 258
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Barnet: Arkley 147 metres (5th out of 33) [map][map]
The London borough of Barnet is pretty much nothing but hills, in complete contrast to much of East London which isn't. Hampstead Garden Suburb tops 100 metres, Mill Hill reaches 119m, and the village of Totteridge 126m. But the toppermost spot is in the village of Arkley, on a ridge between High Barnet and Borehamwood. Best of all it's a proper summit, not an gradient on an administrative boundary, although the precise peak is hard to pin down. I arrived on the number 107 bus, quite late in the day, and gave myself the 20 minutes before the next service to cram my visit in. The best view was actually from the top of the bus, as the land drops rapidly down to the Dollis Brook, occasionally opening up a vista towards the City through the trees. I could see the Shard more clearly than Arkley windmill, one of very few surviving mills in London, but stashed away up a private road behind another leafy screen. [3 photos]
My destination was Rowley Lane, off the main drag, past a whopping great house with security camera and floodlights poking up above the hedge. Of more interest was the view through the hedge opposite, which shielded yet another covered reservoir, this time at the highest point precisely. It's like the Water Board nipped round London reserving all the hilltops for water storage before any house builders realised they could have got maximum value from these summit sites instead. And blimey, what an architectural find, assuming you're the sort of person who likes concrete on stilts. Arkley Water Tower is an amazing snowflake-like structure, constructed from six hexagonal chambers suspended above the ground on a series of tapering columns. It's like some alien craft landed here in the 1970s and is biding its time in obscurity before rising up and firing a death ray from the hilltop, or maybe that's just my imagination. I wonder what folk leaving the golf club opposite thought as I snapped repeatedly from imperceptibly different angles through the fence, but I suspect I could have got a much better photo in the winter, with the chlorophyll shield removed. by bus: 107
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Enfield: Camlet Way 115 metres (10th out of 33) [map][map]
All four of today's Borough Tops are in London's Top Ten, although Enfield only scrapes in. Its peak is located in the westernmost corner of the borough close to Monken Hadley Common, which is a gorgeous spot to the north of New Barnet, and the last surviving fragment of the ancient woodland of Enfield Chase. I had to walk because the 399 bus is one of London's least frequent, and gives up running after 3pm. But that meant an enticing stroll from High Barnet, past the pond and the almshouses and the parish church, and onto the common where the last overs of a cricket match were playing out. One fielder stood right beside the road on the boundary, his additional role presumably to prevent the ball from accidentally smashing through a passing car's side window. Two gentlemen wandered over from the clubhouse clutching jugs of orange squash to share with the scorer, as the game thwacked on towards the inevitable tie. And that would all have been perfect, except the common is full square in Barnet, while Enfield begins quarter of a mile down the hill. [3 photos]
Monken Hadley Common ends fifteen metres lower than the cricket pitch, at a white gate on Camlet Way. The gate is mostly ornamental, to indicate where the byelaws begins, and marks a sudden transition between woodland and residential. Enfield council have erected a bland sign to welcome drivers to the borough, its lettering part-peeled, but still much better than Barnet council who haven't bothered putting up any sign at all. The suburb beyond the gate is Hadley Wood, a right-angled bite of affluence on the East Coast mainline. There are no small houses in Hadley Wood, indeed Camlet Way is lined by desirable detached mansions all the way down to the Cockfosters Road. Most are gated, and seemingly all are protected by the Legion Group whose 24 hour security hotline is advertised on every gatepost. Hadley Wood's an extreme example, but it's amazing how many of London's highpoints have been colonised by the wealthy. by train: Hadley Wood by bus: 399
If it's excitement you want, then the inaugural Mile End and Bow Festival should be right up your street. This special celebration of community, food and the arts takes place across the E3 postcode over the forthcoming weekend, and the organisers promise there'll be fun enough for everyone.
I'm delighted to have been selected as media partner for the Mile End and Bow Festival, so I'll be bringing you tempting previews of the events taking place, plus highlights of the best experiences as the festival progresses. There really is so much to enjoy - just like a normal weekend in the East End, only better!
Everything kicks off at 7pm on the Friday evening with a celebratory procession along the Mile End Road. The theme this year is Fire and Light, so everyone should bring along a candle, torch or lantern to illuminate the way. The procession will be led by the Pearly King of Tower Hamlets, while children at the St George's Academy Summer School will be showing off their carnival costumes at the finale on the Green Bridge. Tickets for the grandstand seating can be reserved in advance on the official festival site.
There's so much to choose from on the Saturday that you may want to sit down and plan your day right now. The morning begins with a special Storytime Hour at the Mile End Idea Store, where local author Katherine Hennessey will be reading from, and selling copies of, her latest book. Meanwhile senior citizens can start their day with a free cooked breakfast at the Bengal Cafe on Grove Road, served 'wartime style' with eggs over easy, and guaranteed as tasty as usual.
Don't forget to drop in at the Bow Wharf Community Centre for tea and biscuits and their Retro Bring and Buy, where this month's chosen decades are the Forties and the Seventies. Or why not join CAMRA's Gerry Vincent on his walking tour of The Ghost Pubs of Bromley-by-Bow, starting at the Seven Stars and ending up with a beer on the site of the Moulder's Arms. All places are first come first served, or you can pay on the day.
In the afternoon the focus switches to Victoria Park. A series of local bands are taking time out of their busy schedules to play for us, introduced by this year's Tower Hamlets Young Councillor of the Year Yasmin Kaur. As well as Brown's Victorian Steam Fair, a range of pop-up food stalls will be present, selling everything from pulled pork burgers to chilli ice cream. Wristbands should be purchased in advance, and can be obtained at a 10% discount online using the voucher code DGsentme.
The only way to end the day is on a Hertford Canal Cruise, enjoying a full three course meal as you drift serenely along the edge of Victoria Park. Or if that's not your cup of tea, how about spending the evening sampling spirits at the Rose of Denmark? A selection of micro-distilled gins will be available, hand-curated by our friends at Hogarth Blends, and each paired with a fine international cheese to really bring your palate to life.
And Sunday promises to be even better! If the weather's fine an open air service will be held on Tredegar Green, bringing together all sides of the community in a pan-faith celebration. This is also the starting point for the E3 Clubcard Fun Run, a charity challenge attempting to visit each of the postcode's Tesco Expresses to raise money for diabetes.
Roman Road will be a sea of stalls on Sunday afternoon during the area's first Artisan Countryside Market. Various locally-sourced meats and cakes will be on sale at organic prices, while the usual clothing traders will be displaced for one day only by sellers of hand-threaded trinkets and bespoke handbags. Meanwhile bookings are being taken up front for a behind the scenes tour at Coborn Road station, including the rare public opening of platform 3 where the Fish Island Narrow Gauge Society will be demonstrating their model railway layout.
Don't think we've forgotten the children. With the summer holidays in full swing, Doctor Mahatma's Fun Palace takes over Mile End Park with free face-painting and the exciting opportunity to make your own Pearly Crown out of sticky paper. Come dressed as your favourite Disney character and you might just walk off with the top prize of a family ticket to a 3D screening of That Squirrel Movie, showing this weekend at the Stepney Picturehouse.
The festival comes to a climactic close with a community concert in Bow Common Park, sponsored by local estate agents Kennedy Brown. Choirs from Holy Cross Mosque and the Malmesbury Road Animal Hospital will serenade us into the evening, and the winner of the Mile End and Bow Bake Off 2014 will be announced. Entrance is guaranteed to all those with a Gold Festival Lanyard, available now for pre-collection from the Bow Roundabout ticket office. This promises to be the most Cockneytastic of weekends, so why not save money and reserve your place now?
Diamond Geezer is proud media partner to the Mile End and Bow Festival, which takes place this weekend. Find out what's on here, and for updates follow Mile End and Bow on Facebook and @MEndBF #E3Wow on Twitter.
I started early, long before nursery school, to the bemusement (and I'd hope delight) of my parents. I'm not sure my first teacher was quite so pleased, however, when I got to the end of her reading scheme much earlier than she'd hoped. Somewhere around the age of 12 I remember reading all three volumes of The Lord of The Rings in a week, because there were no competing social media demands in children's lives in those days. And I still make sure I take several novels on holiday, not just one, because I don't want to run out of material partway through Day Two. Reading just came naturally to me, perhaps too naturally, and I have to remember sometimes that not everyone's eyeball to brain connection works so well.
I don't know how you read books (I genuinely don't, it's not something people generally discuss), but I'm a scanner. When I first turn the page to read the next part of a chapter, my eye's all over the page taking it all in. I start at the top, obviously, but I'm always scanning ahead to get the gist of what the next bit says. Not for me the painstaking line-by-line routine, I just sort of see the text and absorb its meaning wholesale, and move on. Or at least I think that's how it works. It's quite hard to analyse instinctive behaviour like this because the minute you deliberately concentrate you start doing things differently. But I think "skipping" is the best word I can think of to describe my reading style, alighting on the key words and phrases on the way through the page, gleaning 90% of the meaning if not the full hundred. I worry sometimes I'm not picking everything up, that I'm missing some linguistic nuance the author spent hours crafting. But I get most of it, even grin at turns of phrase, plus I rattle through far quicker than most.
When I'm jammed on the tube with only a neighbour's newspaper for entertainment, it often annoys me quite how slowly other people read. I've finished scanning the whole of Metro page 6 in seconds, and they're still slogging through a two paragraph filler about Kim Kardashian's latest tweet. "Come on!" I think, when they haven't turned the page a couple of stations later, surely nobody's quite that slow. It happens with ebooks too, when the lady jammed in beside me has the same fifty words open for what seems like an eternity before brushing to the next electronic page. And yes I know that English might not be these commuters' first language, which means they're battling bravely with a string of tortuous foreign characters. But it is precisely at times like these, staring back around the carriage for lack of anything new to skim, that I suspect my reading speed is at the gifted end of the spectrum.
I like newspapers, proper printed newspapers, precisely because they're perfect for scanning. I revel in the spread of articles and images all over the page, so I can whizz around taking in what's of interest and merely noting the rest for future reference. Sure, if I have the time and inclination I can take much longer and digest stories one by one in detail. But generally I'm reading to become better informed about a wider range of current affairs, devouring the paper for nuggets of information, and the broadsheet format helps optimise my search.
And that's why I'm hesitant, even hostile, regarding news's gradual evolution from page to screen. Sure it means much more up-to-date stories, but it also means a considerable shrinkage of the area visible to read at any one time. You try reading the same article on a laptop as in print and see how much less you get - just the first paragraph and a half and a photo, sorry, and to see any more you'll have to scroll. This spatial limitation isn't too much of a problem if you read slowly, nor I suspect if you read at average pace. But for those of us who read quickly, only being able to scan a fraction of an online article before scrolling down is surprisingly restrictive.
And the move to mobile is much worse. You're lucky to get 50 words on a screen these days, maybe 100 at a push, which is nothing compared to other means of presentation. It's like reading a newspaper through a small rectangular hole, or cutting up an article into a dozen individual sections and being forced to read one at a time. This time surely even people who read at an average pace must notice the difference, must feel somewhat held back, but still the minimisation bandwagon rolls on.
Because mobile format is becoming the default for more and more of whatwereadonline. "Mobile first" is the developers' motto, which just seems to mean templates with more white space and larger font. Sure this makes it readable in your pocket, and accessible across a range of formats, but it also means the rest of us on bigger screens have to make do with less. And it doesn't help that photographs are now being flaunted more widely beneath news paragraphs, often taking up almost a whole screen in themselves, to ensure that even Android users can see the detail and because it looks prettier on a tablet.
We're entering a world in which information is presented in bite-sized chunks and in lowest common denominator sizes. A world in which you can no longer see everything in one go, and where swiping is enforced even when it's not strictly necessary. And if the younger generation grows up more capable of multi-tasking and makes better contact with the world around them as a result, then great. But I wonder if my generation is the last with a talent for scanning large areas of text, as what it means to be a fast reader evolves to mean scrolling rather than skimming.
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Westminster: St John's Wood 52 metres (25th out of 33) [map][map]
Westminster isn't simply the tourist mecca in the south of the borough, it spreads a lot further north than that. Beyond Baker Street, beyond Regent's Park, almost as far as the giddy heights of Swiss Cottage. And it's on the northernmost edge of the borough that we find the borough's highest point which, like that of Islington, is merely a staging point on the steady ascent to Hampstead/Highgate. This time we're on a 200 year-old turnpike, also known as the A41, better known as the Finchley Road. We are not, whatever the official list says, on parallel St John's Wood Park. That residential road might look convincingly summit-like on a map but is blatantly incorrect when visited in the flesh, a good few metres down from the saddleback on the trunk road. Here traffic swooshes past in waves, fed by traffic lights that allow acceleration only so far as the next red, which here may be a little further away than usual. Finchley Road's especially popular with long-distance coaches heading for the M1 and beyond, or returning to London from All Points North before limping slowly into Victoria. And for today's purposes the key location is the minor crossroads with the street that marks the boundary between Westminster and Camden, which appropriately enough is called Boundary Road. [3 photos]
It's rather residential round here. To the east of the crossroads rise two tall-ish apartment blocks, with white balconies, one called Blair Court, the other Buttermere Court. Despite being in different boroughs both are ostensibly identical, but Blair's surroundings are more plain, while Buttermere rises on stilts above a heavily-trimmed subtropical jungle. To the west is the Hilgrove Estate, not Camden's finest, plus a long white box the occasional blue shutter that can only be a freshly-funded academy. This is Quintin Kynaston, a school that sounds like it was named by someone who wanted its pupils to be mercilessly ribbed, and which moves wholesale into this state of the art building in the New Year. The most striking features of this borough highpoint, however, are the cyclists. They ride in up Boundary Road following some local bikeway, and pause cautiously to cross the stream of arterial traffic through a special tiny gap in the central reservation. I watched several cyclists thread through, including an angsty Dad intent on urging his small daughter across the box junction before the lights changed. Next time you're on the National Express to Manchester, keep an eye out. by train: South Hampstead by bus: 13, 46, 82, 113, 187
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Hammersmith and Fulham: Harrow Road 46 metres (26th out of 33) [map][map] Kensington and Chelsea: Kensal Green Cemetery 45 metres (27th out of 33) [map][map]
It had to happen eventually, two boroughs with a highpoint in the same place. Or in this case nearly the same place, which is on the northern edge of Kensal GreenCemetery along the Harrow Road. This old road marks the former boundary between London and Middlesex, now the southern edge of Brent, and also the edge of the drainage basin of one of West London's lost rivers. Counter's Creek ran down from approximately here to Chelsea Creek, its line now approximately the divide between H&F and K&C, which sort-of explains the slopes that spill south through the gravestones and across the railway.
I'll take the Kensington and Chelsea 'peak' first, because it's prettier. Kensal Green is a splendid post-Georgian pre-Victorian cemetery, the first of the 'Magnificent Seven' garden-style public burial grounds in London. More people are buried here than currently live in Kensington and Chelsea, which is saying something, amid the chapels and avenues and landscaped humps. The highest point is near the West Gate, where North Avenue runs up behind the The Masons Arms and the hostel block on the Harrow Road. Such is the demand for places that the very latest burials are being interred along what were once grassy pathways, with a chain of wooden crosses awaiting a more permanent headstone. Everybody's here - the famous chess champion, the much loved mum, beloved Dorcas Frimpong, 'Sledge' the Rasta grandpa - watched over by the steward in her information hut by the entrance. In truth the highest point is at the West Gate, up the driveway, where the temporary florists sit in their makeshift tent waiting to disperse bouquets to visiting mourners. They do a brisk trade too, this elderly husband and wife team, with pot plants and floral crosses a speciality. Mind the cars driving in and out, people don't walk to their relatives' plots if they can avoid it, and two signs are required to warn potential purchasers not to park up and block the way in. [3 photos]
Accessed via the same entrance is St Mary's Cemetery, the Roman Catholic enclave above the crematorium, this very firmly in Hammersmith and Fulham. Just one road beside the West Gate makes it into the borough proper, a runty dogleg dead end that serves the rear of a residential terrace. But this short terrace is possibly unique in London as having once been in three separate administrative districts. The first three houses were in Kensington Parish, the next two in Hammersmith and the last two in Willesden, each boundary delineated by a pair of chiselled stones embedded in the brickwork (K.P/H.P 1865) (H.P/W.P 1865). The road here is raised slightly to allow the West Coast mainline to tunnel beneath, which might mean the modern borough's highest point is here beneath the Aldi billboard, or maybe it's further along the Harrow Road. A few galleries and distressed furniture stores raise the tone near the cemetery gates, but the retail offering then descends somewhat to the usual veg-in-a-bowl and kebab merchants beyond. A few backstreets off the main drag form the residential enclave of College Park, another candidate for the summit of Hammersmith and Fulham, although I'd like to hope the triple-parish-terrace takes the crown. [5 photos] by train: Kensal Green by bus: 18
Returning to my series visiting the highestpoint in each London borough, here's a run of four across the northern edge of Zone 2.
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Hackney: Manor House 39 metres (29th out of 33) [map][map]
Another east London borough, another lowly summit. Not that Hackney's exactly flat. Its northeastern edge rises fairly sharply from the Lea, and then there's Stamford Hill, of course. But the highest point in the borough is in the northwest corner, on the slopes of a peak that's actually in Haringey nextdoor, specifically within Finsbury Park. You can see Hackney's summit very clearly if you take the Piccadilly line to Manor House and emerge onto the broad street corner outside. Two arms of this crossroads head resolutely downhill, one south to Clissold Park, the other east towards Woodberry Down. But the other two, along the perimeter of the park, rise fractionally before starting their descent, and one of these minor bumps is the highest point in Hackney. The official list of London Borough Tops reckons it's the bump on the Seven Sisters Road, close to the Caribbean Community Centre and the lacklustre-looking Kent Hall Hotel. There are a fair few hotels in the vicinity, the large townhouses hereabouts seem to lend themselves, but in most cases the grand-sounding name looks more attractive than the reality. [3 photos]
My money, however, is on the highest point being a few yards along Green Lanes, roughly in line with the bus stop outside the tube station. The short row of shops on the Hackney side of the road consists of an off-licence, a taxi company, a betting shop and two kebab outlets, which is as near to stereotypical as any N4 parade gets. The big white house alongside looks like it used to be a hotel, the ornamental arched entrance out front has an Eastbourne seafront vibe, although the interior is now an awful lot of flats. Or you can have a pint at The Finsbury, the highest live music venue/pub in Hackney, although that's not necessarily a recommendation. There's more fun to be had beyond the iron railings in Haringey, under whose control the whole of Finsbury Park lies, with its flowerbeds and grassy spaces and avenues and tentative hilltop. The Park View Cafe in the Manor House corner looks somewhat twee from the front, with a fibreglass chef on sentry duty and three toadstools masquerading as table and chairs, although it's rather more inviting from the rear when the back wall comes down in decent weather. But that's just inside Haringey again, whereas Hackney's Borough Top's probably not somewhere you'd hang around for long. by tube: Manor House by bus: 29, 141, 253, 254, 259, 279, 341
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Islington: Highgate Hill 100 metres (15th out of 33) [map][map]
My journey to the top of Islington involved a bus ride up the Holloway Road to Archway, and thence up Highgate Hill. It's a relentless ascent, with barely a dip on the way, following the Great North Road on its escape from the centre of town. At Archway the A1 veers off to follow a 200 year-old cutting through the hillside, while the old route climbs past the Whittingtons (Hospital and Stone). On and on it climbs, eventually more than triple the elevation of Hackney's summit. But for Islington's purposes the climb runs out on the 100 metre contour, at the steeply-slanted junction with Hornsey Lane, where Camden and Haringey take over the remainder of the ascent. The divide is marked by three fine-roofed landmarks, one with a tower, one with a spire and the other with domes. The tower marks Linden Mansions, a part-whimsical turn of the century apartment block, the spire tops the Old Crown pub, long a place for travellers to rest, while the twin domes belong to St Joseph's RC Church, a listed Romanesque/Byzantine hybrid. [4 photos]
This yellow box junction is the official Borough Top, but I was tempted to walk east along Hornsey Lane towards another famous landmark. The road beyond the Georgian townhouses definitely dipped, but then rose again, and from the pavement outside the nursing home it was impossible to be certain which end was higher. If the latter, then St Aloysius' College may be the highest building in Islington, its "Founded 1879" looking somewhat incongruous on the front of a bland 21st century façade. On the opposite side of the road is a flat-topped reservoir, often a sign of a municipal highest point, but that's in Haringey again. The famous landmark is just round the bend, maybe a metre lower, the Hornsey Lane Bridge. Formerly an arched bridge after which the neighbourhood is named, the cast iron replacement is one of the most notorious suicide spots in London. Its barbed metal rails wouldn't prevent a determined descent, although the view down the dual carriageway just might. From the Cheesegrater to the Shard, with the Gherkin and the Barbican between, the City's skyscrapers line up almost one by one. Best turn again, and walk away. by tube: Archway by bus: 143, 210, 271, W5
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Haringey: Highgate Village 116 metres (9th out of 33) [map][map]
Highgate Hill continues to rise for half a kilometre beyond the Islington border. It climbs past lovely Waterlow Park, past the big phone mast on Bisham Gardens, up to the heart of chichi Highgate Village. Here stationers and old school butchers nudge up to jewellers and chocolatiers, an almost precise antithesis to Hackney's Manor House parade. The shop that sells lottery tickets also does organic groceries, and the cupcakes in the pantry window have a few more sparkles than elsewhere. It's all really rather pleasant, if residentially unattainable. At the mini-roundabout where the turnpike once bent north is a tiny little florists, its potted blooms dwarfed by The Gatehouse, a well-disguised Wetherspoons in Tudorbethan style. More to Highgate's taste is the Red Lion and Sun on North Road, more gastro than boozer, alongside a very retro Total garage with a row of three pumps lined up outside. [3 photos]
Thanks to a topographical quirk, Haringey's the only north London borough whose highest point is on its southern border. So what's on the summit? That's long been requisitioned by Highgate School, or as it's more properly known Sir Roger Cholmeley's School at Highgate. Sir Roger established his charitable bequest in 1565, initially for the poor boys of the parish under a single teacher, but also offering up the chapel of ease to local residents. Considerable expansion took place later, and the enlarged brick chapel and most of the Big School buildings are a Victorian addition. It's the chapel that resides on Haringey's highest point, this and the surrounding graveyard with its weathered stones and the occasional obelisk. School's currently out for the summer, which helped when I wanted to take photos through the railings, but passing shoppers probably gave me enough funny looks anyway. To follow in my footsteps look out for the retro London Borough of Haringey sign at the top of Highgate Hill, complete with original 1965 'Eight Rays' logo before some branding team remoulded it. by tube: Highgate by bus: 143, 210, 214, 271
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Camden: Hampstead Heath 134 metres (6th out of 33) [map][map]
Camden boasts some of the best hills in the capital, which is pretty impressive for a Inner London borough. Primrose Hill and Parliament Hill fall within its bounds, but they're only 60- and 90-something metres high respectively, which for this project's purposes is insufficient. Instead maximum elevation is reached atop HampsteadHeath on the crown of the Hampstead and Highgate massif, wherever precisely that might be. There is some debate. I'd have expected the peak to be around Whitestone Pond, a triangular water feature located above the headwaters of the Fleet and Westbourne rivers. Originally a dew pond used by thirsty horses, it was later enlarged to become a shallow decorative feature, and very recently done over with wetland plants and white granite edging. I'd say it's an improvement, even if the council did insist on relocating the bus stop 100 metres further away purely for aesthetic reasons. [4 photos]
Close by is another covered reservoir, below which residential Hampstead tumbles down the hillside, and whose raised lid is probably the highest surface hereabouts. But the official Borough Top is a little further away, in a less thrilling location, along the sandy ridge that leads from here to Highgate. That the road from Jack Straw's Castle to The Spaniards Inn is arrow straight should be a hint that it's entirely artificial, as is also evidenced by the slight drop from the embankment on either side. But the needs of traffic have won through, with a tree-lined single carriageway bordered by a segregated cycle path and joggers' pavement. Nearly halfway along is a bus stop where the 210 rarely picks up passengers, adjacent to a path down into the woods and the end of a private drive leading to someone's phenomenally expensive house. It's here (on a slight hump) that the Ordnance Survey have marked their spot height of 134 metres, not just the highest point in Camden but the highest point in Inner London. You can rest awhile to celebrate in the bus shelter, or on one of the neighbouring weatherbeaten green benches. But I wouldn't linger long - this is no scenic spot, and there are far better views to be had both on and from the Heath nearby. by tube: Hampstead by bus: 210, 268
1) Stare
The 49-strong column of light is visible from far across town, even way out into the suburbs, shooting up into the sky (and probably hitting the clouds, which makes for a mysterious Bat Signal-like effect).
2) Flock
It was ridiculously busy alongside the Palace of Westminster last night, with hundreds of Londoners filing expectantly towards Victoria Embankment Gardens (but thankfully there were no queues).
3) Ignore
You could spot the foreign tourists in Parliament Square last night, they were the folk still pointing their cameras towards Big Ben rather than the temporary blue column of light erupting from behind the Victoria Tower.
4) Enter
To enter the square platform and hear the sinewave soundtrack, climb the ramped edge and step inside the 7×7 grid of mega-powerful spotlights (it gets more dense with people the closer to the centre you go).
5) Look up
From anywhere within the grid the beams look very different to outside, not a magnified single beam but severalthreads rising like a maypole to a crown of light diffusing into the clouds.
6) Dazzle
Stand right beside one of the spotlights and you can easily peer into it should the fancy take you, to see a clean bright white light erupting from within (but that's your night vision buggered).
7) Sit
A number of visitors seem to think it's a good idea to sit down on the floor within the grid of lights and stare upwards (and no doubt it is, until someone whose night vision is buggered trips over them).
8) Recline
A better place to hit the floor is outside the grid within the main body of the Gardens, where reclining Spectra-worshippers form a ring around the electric henge (some have even brought a picnic).
9) Snap
No modern art event is possible without the taking of countless digital images and their dispersal via social media. Nigh everybody has a phone out (usually for a beam shot, but sometimes for a Spectra selfie).
10) Assume
If you thought this was a special one-off commission to commemorate WW1 you'd be wrong - Ryoji Ikeda's lightwork has already adorned the skies in Paris, Barcelona, Buenos Aires, Hobart, the UAE, etc.
11) Click
A lady from Artangel is standing by the entrance to Victoria Embankment Gardens counting every visitor with a click. She's going to be damned pleased with her total by the end of the weekend.
12) Hurry Spectra is a seven-day event, firing up from dusk to dawn for seven nights only. And last night was number six, so you only have tonight to get down and experience the column of white light at close hand.
My bank offers what it likes to call a savings account. It's a special preferential account, not your bog standard current account, available to anyone who chucks in one pound or more. It offers a pathetic rate of interest, as is the modern way, because protecting debtors from penury is deemed more important than rewarding the thrifty for their prudence. But that's still a better interest rate than all of my bank's other instant access accounts, allegedly, so long as you remember one crucial fact.
I opened my savings account a year ago, a year to the day. I spoke to a bank employee on the phone and ran through their rigmarole, confirming details and agreeing terms. They ran through their appointed script, reminding me I had fourteen days to opt out, and pledged to send me a welcome pack of terms and conditions. And so my money began to earn interest, admittedly a miserable amount, but better than keeping my cash in a bag under the bed. And so it's been each month since then, a minor electronic top-up, at least until this week came round.
For mine is one of those ghastly bank accounts that self-combusts after twelve months. Not completely, because that would be theft, but a partial collapse is pre-programmed and kicks in after 365 days. The interest rate drops overnight from market rate to barely above zero, and there it stays for as long as it takes me to notice. Because my bank never had any intention to pay their headline rate for long, it was merely there to grab my attention, and once they think my money's safely stashed they whip the bonus away.
When it comes to paying interest it seems my bank, and quite possibly your bank too, is inherently evil. They like to lure in savers with big numbers, or at least relatively big, and then hope inertia and forgetfulness kicks in. When you open your account they make it clear the savings rate is for one year only, but one year sounds like a long time, so why worry now? Of course after a year most people have forgotten, because they have thousands of other things to remember in the meantime. And so the anniversary of the opening day passes unnoticed, the savings rate plummets, and the bank is quids in.
I noticed. More to the point I noticed before the one telltale sign, which is a month where the interest paid in your statement suddenly inexplicably plummets. By this time you've already lost out and the bank has won, but not as badly as if you never notice the decrease at all. In the bank's ideal scenario your money sits there forever, worthlessly to you but relentlessly accruing interest for them. But I'd planned more proactively than this and set a calendar reminder twelve months ago for the first week of August. And yes, I had indeed entirely forgotten... but hey presto, up it popped, and I sprang into action.
And then the stupid telephone charade began. I rang the hotline and got someone called Mohammed, and the game was afoot. My bank introduces a new special saver account each year, identical in all ways but two to the previous incarnation. First the issue number on the end of the account name increases by one, so that technically this is a different account to that which went before. And secondly the introductory bonus interest rate drops a bit from what it was last year, because although technically there's been an economic recovery in reality there hasn't and so I must be punished.
I had to go through all the palaver of setting up a new account, all the listening to terms and conditions, all the confirming details and agreeing terms. I had to listen to Mohammed running through his appointed script, because that's what financial regulation requires. He said he'd be sending all the paperwork through in the post again, like I care, but he still has to. And eventually, after spending 20 minutes of my own time and money on this nigh-pointless phone call, he shut down my year-long savings account and opened another that looked identical apart for the eight digit number.
It's appalling that my bank requires such an annual rigmarole, and all to end up with an interest rate that's actually lower than they were giving me the day before. It's even more appalling that this is I think the sixth consecutive year they've pulled this stunt, and the sixth year I've jumped through their hoops to avoid dropping back to a derisory nought point not-very-much percent.
I should, I know, dump my savings somewhere with a better rate of return, in a financial institution that doesn't screw its user base so openly. I should, I'm sure, attempt to limit this continued erosion of my nest egg as inflation slowly steals my wealth away. But until then I've signed up to another twelve months at an ever diminishing rate of return, because inertia keeps me coming back for another kicking. And I've already set a calendar reminder for the first week of August next year, just before the headline rate plummets once again, when no doubt I'll be phoning up my bank for another year of fiscal inadequacy.
First known usage: "With so much of East London's population in serious need of extortionate loansharkery, let's rebrand this The Wonga Dangleway" (diamond geezer, June 2011)
Two part-time job vacancies have become available.
Job title:Mayor of London Job purpose: Strategic manager for the largest city in Western Europe Accountable to: Nine million citizens approx Part time equivalent: 0.5
Effective part-time start date: 6 August 2014 Official part-time start date: 8 May 2015 Retirement: 6 May 2016
Accountable for: a) Blue-sky projects; Headline-grabbing fluff b) Transport; pretend-transport; vanity-transport c) Fictitious control over airport-sized chunks of Kent d) Greenlighting skyscrapers; Reducing affordability coefficients e) Erecting the occasional viewscreen in Trafalgar Square f) Replacing Fire Stations with Free Schools g) Bearing down on EU Air Quality Directives h) Emptying the Long-term Policy Cupboard i) Budget of £20bn
Person specification:
• Experience of working with, or on behalf of, the private sector
• Can articulate policy through a smokescreen of self-deprecating obfuscation
• Capability to sound convincing in the absence of substance
• Ability to hire skeleton-free Deputy Mayors to work on one's behalf
• Can pop into City Hall on Wednesday afternoons to check that everything's ticking over
Official part-time start date: 8 May 2015 Full time job begins: 6 May 2016 Promotion pencilled in: 8 May 2020
Accountable for: a) Weekly Daily Telegraph column b) Making surreptitious anti-European speeches c) Opening the South Ruislip church fete d) Being made Shadow Minister for London e) Occasional guest appearance on Have I Got News For You? f) Destabilising the party with a cheery smile g) Extending the cycle hire scheme to Hillingdon h) Snarky yet witty Twitter feed followed by millions i) Supporting the Leader of the Opposition unequivocally
Person specification
• Ability to bide one's time whilst manoeuvring carefully into position
• An unrelenting focus on career progression and advancement
• A background in bandwagon-riding would be advantageous
• Willingness to collect a second salary without flinching
• Relentless charm in the face of all obstacles and adversities
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Waltham Forest: Pole Hill 91 metres (17th out of 33) [map][map]
The highest point in the borough of Waltham Forest is a proper hill, indeed one of the more special hills within the Greater London boundary. Pole Hill rises above the western end of the town of Chingford, indeed the hill is named after St Paul's Church on the village green, which is in turn named after St Paul's Cathedral. It actually feels like a proper hill when you climb it too, rising steeply from the Lea Valley alongside, indeed there's a mighty fine view across two reservoirs from the grassy slopes on the western flank. Or you can walk up via the residential avenues of Chingford Green, one of whose houses on Woodberry Way has a back garden rising almost to the summit. One particularly famous resident of Arabia Way was Lawrence of Arabia, back when he was the only person here and living (occasionally) in a hut in the woods. Or the easiest ascent is up the unmade road along the edge of the golf course, rising gently into forest to reach a beechy earthen glade. There are sufficient ways up and down Pole Hill to provide considerable variety for even the most demanding Chingford-based jogger or dog walker. [3 photos]
Step out onto the plateau at the top of Pole Hill and you'll find a pair of pillars, both of which hold significance. The smaller is the Ordnance Survey trig point, recording an elevation of one foot below three hundred. It's also on the Greenwich Meridian, which by a complete coincidence passes through the summit of the hill. This fortuitous alignment was used by the Royal Observatory's astronomers who used to line up their telescopes in Greenwich with the top of Pole Hill ten miles due north. The other obelisk was erected in 1824 when the Greenwich Meridian ran 19 feet west of where it does now, lined up on the crosshairs of James Bradley's transit telescope. It's therefore fortunate, or perhaps deliberate, that the tree cover is at its thinnest in this general direction, although copious branches have grown up far enough in the intervening years to completely obstruct views of Greenwich through the summer.
I do love sitting up here - there's one bench - although the finest panorama from the Gherkin round to the BT Tower can only be seen by standing on it. Others enjoy the peace too, evidenced by the empty can of Strongbow perched on the plinth at the foot of the obelisk. Two cyclists - I suspect they'd like to think of themselves as mountain bikers - paused by the summit before diving between the oak trees to plunge down the slopes to the west. And two joggers passed by, one sweating across his now two-tone t-shirt, the other ambling slowly in pristine vest. I eventually picked my exit route and followed one of them down, but not before enjoying my Pole position for a little while longer. by train: Chingford by bus: 313, 379, 385
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Redbridge: Cabin Hill 90 metres (18th out of 33) [map][map]
Hainault ForestCountry Park, it seems, is a treat known only to locals from almost-Essex. They drive in, or maybe walk from the estates of Hainault if they're that way inclined, and park up in number at the end of the lane. From here a variety of activities suggest themselves. A trip to Foxburrows Farm - a petting zoo treat for the littluns - or the chance to buy something & chips at the Global Cafe (a popular choice that at the weekend, I noted). Several three-generation families had brought picnics and were sprawled out on the grass, generally not too far from the car for convenience sake, slowly bloating and reddening as the afternoon passed. What you can't currently do is walk on the site where thousands of military 'volunteers' camped out during the Olympics, because amazingly that's still sealed off even two years afterwards to give the wild flower carpet time to regroup. Or you could go for a walk - there are several trails across the site, some merely up the meadow and back but others more worthy ascents into deep forest. And one of these woodland walks, from the farthest end of the site, leads up to Redbridge's Borough Top. [3 photos]
The Greater London boundary runs in from Grange Hill and Chigwell Row, almost precisely slicing the Country Park in two. Along the way it passes through the summit of Cabin Hill, where Redbridge meets Havering meets Essex, with the London side more steeply sloping than the wooded out-of-town flanks beyond. On the gravel path ascent I passed several visitors walking slowly, pretending not to be out of breath, and a retired couple brambling for first fruits in the hedgerow and dropping their bounty into an M&S bag. And at the pinnacle itself, treats and disappointment. A treat, in that the borough of Redbridge has plonked a huge wastebin emblazoned with the name of the council on its highest point. A treat in that an information board explains what there is to see nearby, including the immediately-adjacent county through the hedge. And a disappointment in that the bench where I'd hoped to sit was already taken by a teenager checking his phone, and no way was he going anywhere while (presumably) the rest of his family explored the woodland paths beyond. Tree cover atop Cabin Hill means there's no view as such, but a definite sense of place presides. by tube: Grange Hill by bus: 247, 362
I decided on a three mile walk to the next Borough Top, rather than attempting to find a bus, instead reprising the second half of London Loop section 20. Top choice. The path tumbled down a golf course, then cut a furrow through a field of head-high corn as if this were the American midwest. Down in the Rom Valley a farmhand swept by on his combine harvester, feeding grain into a truck, waving as he passed. And on the other side a spectacular panorama of London Skyscraper Central became visible across the fields, before I climbed (via one of only two redwood plantations in Britain) through Havering Country Park. That good.
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Havering: Havering-atte-Bower 105 metres (14th out of 33) [map][map]
This triple-barrelled village probably shouldn't be part of London, and only scrapes inside by half a mile. Havering-atte-Bower is a proper hilltop settlement with a green and a twisty main street, plus royal connections to Edward the Confessor established a timber lodge here. This became the centre of hunting grounds known as The Royal Liberty of Havering, and later a proper palace grew up (to which the 'atte-Bower' suffix relates). Nothing remains, although the parish church is built on the highest point which is the site of the old palace chapel. St James and St John lost its parish priest two years back and now shares a vicar with a much more modern building down the hill in Collier Row. The churchyard slopes upwards, which makes the village green fractionally higher, possibly sloping upwards to the stocks by the T-Junction. By London standards buses are infrequent, but those who live in the adjacent cottages mostly drive or, as seems very typical round here, ride a horse. [3 photos]
Or maybe the other half of the village is higher - whoever compiled the list of London Borough Tops isn't certain. Broxhill Road dips slightly down and then back up again towards the cricket club, and it's very hard to judge which end is higher purely by eye. Hence Havering has an alternative secondary peak barely quarter of a mile east of the first, also at 105 metres, in the vicinity of Round House Farm. A bright white water tower rises here, perhaps evidence that engineers thought this was the highest point hereabouts. The cricket ground must have a good claim too. Within its chalk-lined boundary all is flat, but immediately beyond the land tumbles away to reveal Romford, intermediate suburbia, Dartford and the heights of Kent in the far distance. The Thames really does carve a valley through the heart of London, even in its more estuarine reaches, and the elevated residents of Havering-atte-Bower see this more clearly than most. by bus: 375 (not Sunday)
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Barking & Dagenham: Marks Gate 43 metres (28th out of 33) [map][map]
Sorry, but after those three elevated treats, this is potentially more of a letdown. Barking and Dagenham is another flattish borough, rising gently as it tapers north along Whalebone Lane but without ever breaking into a proper climb. The top end of the borough features broad arable fields, broken by a curry-based Rollerbowl experience and the housing estates of Marks Gate. The main road's a bit grim, lined on one side by a McDonalds, various lowbrow farm shops and a huge quarry ("Danger Quicksand"). Somewhere in the scrubby verge is the Mark's Stone, a stumpy boundary marker with the dubious honour of being the final place I ever visited on my Random Borough tour. And just south of Kingston Hill Avenue is a landscaped hump planted with trees, adjacent to a fenced-off lawn where brave residents sunbathe amidst potential dogpoo. [3 photos]
But the highest point in B&D, it's thought, lies within the perimeter of Chadwell Heath Cemetery. This is far more interesting than its situation suggests, laid out in the early 1930s by Dagenham Borough Council (look out for their insignia on the entrance gates) and is unexpectedly Grade II listed. At the cemetery's heart is a slim Art Deco chapel, designed by the borough surveyor, surrounded by an orbital pathway through the gravestones aligned to resemble an astronomical diagram. I would have explored more deeply had not the official closing time just passed, afraid the gates might be locked upon me if I ventured too far within. But the ground to the north rose sharply up a steep grassy bank to an 8-acre cemetery extension, currently under development now that the lower site is full up. Those eventually interred within this flat turfed platform will sit at the very pinnacle of Barking and Dagenham, a concept I'm reassured to have discovered actually exists. by train: Chadwell Heath by bus: 62, 296, 362
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS The City of London: Chancery Lane/Holborn 22 metres (31st out of 33) [map][map]
The best London summit to tackle first, I thought, would be the most central... in the City of London. There are two historic hills here - Ludgate Hill and Cornhill - around which the ancient city originally grew. But these are barely hills at all, merely gravel terraces overlooking the Thames, and neither quite tops 18 metres in height. Of the two Cornhill is fractionally higher, but is topped by a site outside the old City walls in the ward of Farringdon Without. That place is the westernmost tip of the City of London, partway up High Holborn at the junction with Chancery Lane. Head any further and you'd be climbing into the West End, or Midtown as they'd like you to call it. But south of the Cotswold Outdoor Clothing store on the corner, past the mobile phone shop, Specsavers and Costa Coffee, that's the Lord Mayor's jurisdiction right down to river level. [3 photos]
The precise point, I think, is in the middle of the yellow box junction amid the traffic lights. Cyclists and road vehicles turning right out of Chancery Lane take it in turns to be the highest vehicle in the City, whereas pedestrians would be ill-advised to follow. Instead they can cross via the highest traffic island in the City, a thin paved area down the centre of High Holborn. Few would deliberately linger here, so I got a funny look when I paused to inspect a particularly charming item of old street furniture. It's a ribbed iron column, too tall to be a bollard but too short to be a modern lamppost, its black and white paint peeling with age. It's also far more ornate than function would require, with hoops of floral swirls and knobbles rising up a sturdy pillar to a thinner tapering stalk, topped off by an orb and stubby pointed peak. It's obviously an [insert function of post here], although any hooks or supports for hanging lights or signals are long gone. [Aha, traffic lights, thanks!]
I visited this street corner at the height of the evening rush hour, with the surrounding shops taking the day's last sales and with bikes and commuters rushing all around. It'll almost certainly be the busiest London Borough Top I tick off, as ought to be expected at the heart of the capital's commercial district. And all this just a short distance up from the Thames, because the land immediately north of the riverbank is unexpectedly higher than everywhere in the two east London boroughs I'll be travelling to next. by tube: Chancery Lane by bus: 8, 25, 242, 341, 521
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Tower Hamlets: Cambridge Heath Road 16 metres (32nd out of 33) [map][map]
There are no hills in Tower Hamlets, unless perhaps you count Tower Hill, which in truth is anything but. The land slopes up imperceptibly from the Thames, with a second gradient rising up from the Lea Valley along the eastern border. The highest point in the borough was therefore always going to be something of a disappointment. A gentle incline rises up the Cambridge Heath Road, past the Museum of Childhood, past the old Town Hall and past a long run of low brick railway arches. You'll know the area if you know the giant gasholder by the Regents Canal, and you'll know the precise spot if you know the lightly-humped bridge where Mare Street crosses over. The highest building in Tower Hamlets, at ground floor level at least, is the Ombra bar and restaurant. Its cuisine is Venetian, which seems highly appropriate overlooking the canalside, with a cluster of giant mushrooms on the roof as a less Italian touch. [3 photos]
But hang on, how can the highest point in a borough be on a canal? Canals are by definition flat, non-existent locks aside, so it makes no sense for there to be a high point here. Indeed the towpath passes three metres below the bridge, along which pass joggers and walkers and streams of ding-ding cyclists. A gap in a graffitied arch reveals a waterside garden, and the buildings alongside the path look like they're the natural ground level instead. Is the canal in a shallow cutting, as evidenced by the cobbled cul-de-sac running down from Cambridge Heath Road to a locked gate beneath the railway viaduct. Or is the land to either side of the bridge raised to allow the road to pass over, and straight on into Hackney with barely a wobble. Depending on where you stand, it's possible to believe either. by train: Cambridge Heath by bus: 26, 48, 55, 106, 254, 388, D6
Which is, I think, why Tower Hamlets has an alternative Borough Top. A handful of London boroughs have one, a secondary peak of approximately the same height, presumably when the author of the definitive list couldn't quite make up their mind. It's mighty hard to scour maps of built-up areas for contour lines, and in this peak-bagging game every metre counts. But Tower Hamlets' second crest is in a much more memorable spot, hurrah, the top right corner of Altab Ali Park. This central E1 greenspace has an illustrious history, it was originally the site of St Mary's Church, the white chapel after which the area is named. A recent makeover picked out the outline of the blitzed church in raised stone, a rather tasteful two-tone memorial, although the fag ends and beer cans discarded all around suggest the seating blocks are used for social pleasure rather than remembrance. And when you stop and think it makes perfect sense that the oldest church in the area would have been built on the highest patch of land, no matter how lowly its elevation. [3 photos]
As part of the park's relandscaping, one corner of the park was adorned with a cluster of artificial mounds. They look like a little like prehistoric barrows, not that such objects would have appeared in a Christian churchyard, especially not one with marble steps up to the top. Scattered amongst the grassy humps are a few large boulders, the intention being to mark out this area beyond the main footpath as somewhere to sit, lounge and recline. Two local gentlemen on the top step eyed me suspiciously as I wandered over and started taking photos. I was trying to line up the replica Shaheed Minar memorial with the tower block in the background for a proper circumspectual shot, whereas they presumably assumed I was there to collect snooping security-related evidence. No problem, I waited until they left, and then trod up the steps to the very top of my borough (houses, apartment blocks and skyscrapers excepted). by tube: Aldgate East by bus: 25, 205, 254
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Newham: Wanstead Flats 15 metres (33rd out of 33) [map][map]
When the highest point in a London borough is in a place called Something Flats, you know you're in for a mountaineering disappointment. But then, contourwise, Newham is the biggest disappointment of all. Large swathes of the south of the borough are under threat of inundation should the Thames ever flood, and in the event of global warming, no other borough goes under quicker. Indeed the last house in Newham to fall foul of rising floodwaters would be number 6 Sidney Road, Forest Gate... that is assuming rioting, looting and rampant malaria haven't taken out the capital by then. [3 photos]
Newham's northern boundary runs along the edge of Wanstead Flats, the mostly-treeless bottom end of Epping Forest. Sidney Road is the last street before the Flats begin, and the only one where the grassland backs onto a terrace of houses rather than the road. Number 6 is a fairly ordinary end terrace, for Newham at least, with turreted bay window and a palm tree in the front garden. But the borough's highest point isn't out front in the street, but round the back behind the garages. If these houses are in the borough then their outbuildings must be too, hence the Newham boundary protrudes out to swallow a bite-shaped chunk of Redbridge beyond. Head up the driveway between numbers 20 and 22, or more politely walk up the footpath via the Flats, to reach a row of lockups overshadowed by nettly vegetation.
Actually the residents would probably rather you didn't visit. Stickers on the garage doors warn of Closed Circuit Television with 24 Hour Video Recording, although looking around I have my doubts. Instead a Union Jack flutters proudly from a flagpole, a box stashed with garden rubbish awaits collection, and some tomato plants curl dejectedly out of a trio of bright blue growbags. It's left to those at number 6 to make the only splash, their lock-up door painted with the last verse of a Robert Frost poem in chunky colourful letters. Where I'd anticipated nothing, an unexpected highpoint.
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Newham: Beckton Alps 25 metres (disqualified) [map] Artificial, and hence apparently ineligible.
LONDON BOROUGH TOPS Newham: Westfield Avenue 22 metres (unconfirmed) [map]
After checking the latest Ordnance Survey data, Ollie reckons the new road past John Lewis is now the highest point in Newham.
A lot of Hillingdon is fairly flat - it's why Heathrow Airport and RAF Northolt were built here. But head to north of the borough and the land bubbles up to heights the equal of Hampstead Heath. The station to go to... and this is obvious once you've thought about it... is Northwood Hills. The name's a Metroland invention, but the situation's about right, with suburban avenues beyond the Pinner Road rising inexorably higher and higher. One proper summit is the Hogs Back Open Space below Hillside Crescent, still farmland until the 1950s, now surrounded by a Bungalow Conservation Area. But that's nothing compared to Potter Street Hill, a surprisingly leafy lane that tracks the border between Hillingdon and Harrow. The best view comes a short way up before the trees intrude, back down across gabled rooftops towards Ruislip and the Colne Valley. But up here the houses are far more exclusive, great detached hideaways set inside secluded acres of garden, with names like Antolido and The Sloes. The lane is half a mile long and bordered by barely a dozen properties, because it's in shady corners like this that London's richer residents buy seclusion and delight. [3 photos]
You probably wouldn't have guessed that Harrow holds bronze medal position in the league table of highest London boroughs. But there's quite a scarp above Stanmore, at the point where the Jubilee line halts and the Green Belt begins. One flank is Brockley Hill, up which Watling Street ascends, reaching a pretty-high point by the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital. But Stanmore Hill rises even higher, to a sort-of plateau around Bushey Heath, and what turns out to be the highest point in North London. It was also the highest point in Middlesex, back when that was a county, and is higher above sea level than the top pod on the London Eye and the chimneys of Battersea Power Station. It's just a shame that it's not a very interesting spot, not quite. [3 photos]
The London borough of Barnet is pretty much nothing but hills, in complete contrast to much of East London which isn't. Hampstead Garden Suburb tops 100 metres, Mill Hill reaches 119m, and the village of Totteridge 126m. But the toppermost spot is in the village of Arkley, on a ridge between High Barnet and Borehamwood. Best of all it's a proper summit, not an gradient on an administrative boundary, although the precise peak is hard to pin down. I arrived on the number 107 bus, quite late in the day, and gave myself the 20 minutes before the next service to cram my visit in. The best view was actually from the top of the bus, as the land drops rapidly down to the Dollis Brook, occasionally opening up a vista towards the City through the trees. I could see the Shard more clearly than Arkley windmill, one of very few surviving mills in London, but stashed away up a private road behind another leafy screen. [3 photos]
All four of today's Borough Tops are in London's Top Ten, although Enfield only scrapes in. Its peak is located in the westernmost corner of the borough close to Monken Hadley Common, which is a gorgeous spot to the north of New Barnet, and the last surviving fragment of the ancient woodland of Enfield Chase. I had to walk because the 399 bus is one of London's least frequent, and gives up running after 3pm. But that meant an enticing stroll from High Barnet, past the pond and the almshouses and the parish church, and onto the common where the last overs of a cricket match were playing out. One fielder stood right beside the road on the boundary, his additional role presumably to prevent the ball from accidentally smashing through a passing car's side window. Two gentlemen wandered over from the clubhouse clutching jugs of orange squash to share with the scorer, as the game thwacked on towards the inevitable tie. And that would all have been perfect, except the common is full square in Barnet, while Enfield begins quarter of a mile down the hill. [3 photos]
Everything kicks off at 7pm on the Friday evening with a celebratory procession along the Mile End Road. The theme this year is Fire and Light, so everyone should bring along a candle, torch or lantern to illuminate the way. The procession will be led by the Pearly King of Tower Hamlets, while children at the St George's Academy Summer School will be showing off their carnival costumes at the finale on the Green Bridge. Tickets for the grandstand seating can be reserved in advance on the official festival site.
And Sunday promises to be even better! If the weather's fine an open air service will be held on Tredegar Green, bringing together all sides of the community in a pan-faith celebration. This is also the starting point for the E3 Clubcard Fun Run, a charity challenge attempting to visit each of the postcode's Tesco Expresses to raise money for diabetes.
Westminster isn't simply the tourist mecca in the south of the borough, it spreads a lot further north than that. Beyond Baker Street, beyond Regent's Park, almost as far as the giddy heights of Swiss Cottage. And it's on the northernmost edge of the borough that we find the borough's highest point which, like that of Islington, is merely a staging point on the steady ascent to Hampstead/Highgate. This time we're on a 200 year-old turnpike, also known as the A41, better known as the Finchley Road. We are not, whatever the official list says, on parallel St John's Wood Park. That residential road might look convincingly summit-like on a map but is blatantly incorrect when visited in the flesh, a good few metres down from the saddleback on the trunk road. Here traffic swooshes past in waves, fed by traffic lights that allow acceleration only so far as the next red, which here may be a little further away than usual. Finchley Road's especially popular with long-distance coaches heading for the M1 and beyond, or returning to London from All Points North before limping slowly into Victoria. And for today's purposes the key location is the minor crossroads with the street that marks the boundary between Westminster and Camden, which appropriately enough is called Boundary Road. [3 photos]
It had to happen eventually, two boroughs with a highpoint in the same place. Or in this case nearly the same place, which is on the northern edge of Kensal Green Cemetery along the Harrow Road. This old road marks the former boundary between London and Middlesex, now the southern edge of Brent, and also the edge of the drainage basin of one of West London's lost rivers. Counter's Creek ran down from approximately here to Chelsea Creek, its line now approximately the divide between H&F and K&C, which sort-of explains the slopes that spill south through the gravestones and across the railway.
Another east London borough, another lowly summit. Not that Hackney's exactly flat. Its northeastern edge rises fairly sharply from the Lea, and then there's Stamford Hill, of course. But the highest point in the borough is in the northwest corner, on the slopes of a peak that's actually in Haringey nextdoor, specifically within Finsbury Park. You can see Hackney's summit very clearly if you take the Piccadilly line to Manor House and emerge onto the broad street corner outside. Two arms of this crossroads head resolutely downhill, one south to Clissold Park, the other east towards Woodberry Down. But the other two, along the perimeter of the park, rise fractionally before starting their descent, and one of these minor bumps is the highest point in Hackney. The official list of London Borough Tops reckons it's the bump on the Seven Sisters Road, close to the Caribbean Community Centre and the lacklustre-looking Kent Hall Hotel. There are a fair few hotels in the vicinity, the large townhouses hereabouts seem to lend themselves, but in most cases the grand-sounding name looks more attractive than the reality. [3 photos]
My journey to the top of Islington involved a bus ride up the Holloway Road to Archway, and thence up Highgate Hill. It's a relentless ascent, with barely a dip on the way, following the Great North Road on its escape from the centre of town. At Archway the A1 veers off to follow a 200 year-old cutting through the hillside, while the old route climbs past the Whittingtons (Hospital and Stone). On and on it climbs, eventually more than triple the elevation of Hackney's summit. But for Islington's purposes the climb runs out on the 100 metre contour, at the steeply-slanted junction with Hornsey Lane, where Camden and Haringey take over the remainder of the ascent. The divide is marked by three fine-roofed landmarks, one with a tower, one with a spire and the other with domes. The tower marks Linden Mansions, a part-whimsical turn of the century apartment block, the spire tops the Old Crown pub, long a place for travellers to rest, while the twin domes belong to St Joseph's RC Church, a listed Romanesque/Byzantine hybrid. [4 photos]
Highgate Hill continues to rise for half a kilometre beyond the Islington border. It climbs past lovely Waterlow Park, past the big phone mast on Bisham Gardens, up to the heart of chichi Highgate Village. Here stationers and old school butchers nudge up to jewellers and chocolatiers, an almost precise antithesis to Hackney's Manor House parade. The shop that sells lottery tickets also does organic groceries, and the cupcakes in the pantry window have a few more sparkles than elsewhere. It's all really rather pleasant, if residentially unattainable. At the mini-roundabout where the turnpike once bent north is a tiny little florists, its potted blooms dwarfed by The Gatehouse, a well-disguised Wetherspoons in Tudorbethan style. More to Highgate's taste is the Red Lion and Sun on North Road, more gastro than boozer, alongside a very retro Total garage with a row of three pumps lined up outside. [3 photos]
Camden boasts some of the best hills in the capital, which is pretty impressive for a Inner London borough. Primrose Hill and Parliament Hill fall within its bounds, but they're only 60- and 90-something metres high respectively, which for this project's purposes is insufficient. Instead maximum elevation is reached atop Hampstead Heath on the crown of the Hampstead and Highgate massif, wherever precisely that might be. There is some debate. I'd have expected the peak to be around Whitestone Pond, a triangular water feature located above the headwaters of the Fleet and Westbourne rivers. Originally a dew pond used by thirsty horses, it was later enlarged to become a shallow decorative feature, and very recently done over with wetland plants and white granite edging. I'd say it's an improvement, even if the council did insist on relocating the bus stop 100 metres further away purely for aesthetic reasons. [4 photos]
The highest point in the borough of Waltham Forest is a proper hill, indeed one of the more special hills within the Greater London boundary. Pole Hill rises above the western end of the town of Chingford, indeed the hill is named after St Paul's Church on the village green, which is in turn named after St Paul's Cathedral. It actually feels like a proper hill when you climb it too, rising steeply from the Lea Valley alongside, indeed there's a mighty fine view across two reservoirs from the grassy slopes on the western flank. Or you can walk up via the residential avenues of Chingford Green, one of whose houses on Woodberry Way has a back garden rising almost to the summit. One particularly famous resident of Arabia Way was Lawrence of Arabia, back when he was the only person here and living (occasionally) in a hut in the woods. Or the easiest ascent is up the unmade road along the edge of the golf course, rising gently into forest to reach a beechy earthen glade. There are sufficient ways up and down Pole Hill to provide considerable variety for even the most demanding Chingford-based jogger or dog walker. [3 photos]
Hainault Forest Country Park, it seems, is a treat known only to locals from almost-Essex. They drive in, or maybe walk from the estates of Hainault if they're that way inclined, and park up in number at the end of the lane. From here a variety of activities suggest themselves. A trip to Foxburrows Farm - a petting zoo treat for the littluns - or the chance to buy something & chips at the Global Cafe (a popular choice that at the weekend, I noted). Several three-generation families had brought picnics and were sprawled out on the grass, generally not too far from the car for convenience sake, slowly bloating and reddening as the afternoon passed. What you can't currently do is walk on the site where thousands of military 'volunteers' camped out during the Olympics, because amazingly that's still sealed off even two years afterwards to give the wild flower carpet time to regroup. Or you could go for a walk - there are several trails across the site, some merely up the meadow and back but others more worthy ascents into deep forest. And one of these woodland walks, from the farthest end of the site, leads up to Redbridge's Borough Top. [3 photos]
This triple-barrelled village probably shouldn't be part of London, and only scrapes inside by half a mile. Havering-atte-Bower is a proper hilltop settlement with a green and a twisty main street, plus royal connections to Edward the Confessor established a timber lodge here. This became the centre of hunting grounds known as The Royal Liberty of Havering, and later a proper palace grew up (to which the 'atte-Bower' suffix relates). Nothing remains, although the parish church is built on the highest point which is the site of the old palace chapel. St James and St John lost its parish priest two years back and now shares a vicar with a much more modern building down the hill in Collier Row. The churchyard slopes upwards, which makes the village green fractionally higher, possibly sloping upwards to the stocks by the T-Junction. By London standards buses are infrequent, but those who live in the adjacent cottages mostly drive or, as seems very typical round here, ride a horse. [3 photos]
Sorry, but after those three elevated treats, this is potentially more of a letdown. Barking and Dagenham is another flattish borough, rising gently as it tapers north along Whalebone Lane but without ever breaking into a proper climb. The top end of the borough features broad arable fields, broken by a curry-based Rollerbowl experience and the housing estates of Marks Gate. The main road's a bit grim, lined on one side by a McDonalds, various lowbrow farm shops and a huge quarry ("Danger Quicksand"). Somewhere in the scrubby verge is the Mark's Stone, a stumpy boundary marker with the dubious honour of being the final place I ever visited on my Random Borough tour. And just south of Kingston Hill Avenue is a landscaped hump planted with trees, adjacent to a fenced-off lawn where brave residents sunbathe amidst potential dogpoo. [3 photos]
The best London summit to tackle first, I thought, would be the most central... in the City of London. There are two historic hills here - Ludgate Hill and Cornhill - around which the ancient city originally grew. But these are barely hills at all, merely gravel terraces overlooking the Thames, and neither quite tops 18 metres in height. Of the two Cornhill is fractionally higher, but is topped by a site outside the old City walls in the ward of Farringdon Without. That place is the westernmost tip of the City of London, partway up High Holborn at the junction with Chancery Lane. Head any further and you'd be climbing into the West End, or Midtown as they'd like you to call it. But south of the Cotswold Outdoor Clothing store on the corner, past the mobile phone shop, Specsavers and Costa Coffee, that's the Lord Mayor's jurisdiction right down to river level. [3 photos]
There are no hills in Tower Hamlets, unless perhaps you count Tower Hill, which in truth is anything but. The land slopes up imperceptibly from the Thames, with a second gradient rising up from the Lea Valley along the eastern border. The highest point in the borough was therefore always going to be something of a disappointment. A gentle incline rises up the Cambridge Heath Road, past the Museum of Childhood, past the old Town Hall and past a long run of low brick railway arches. You'll know the area if you know the giant gasholder by the Regents Canal, and you'll know the precise spot if you know the lightly-humped bridge where Mare Street crosses over. The highest building in Tower Hamlets, at ground floor level at least, is the Ombra bar and restaurant. Its cuisine is Venetian, which seems highly appropriate overlooking the canalside, with a cluster of giant mushrooms on the roof as a less Italian touch. [3 photos]
Which is, I think, why Tower Hamlets has an alternative Borough Top. A handful of London boroughs have one, a secondary peak of approximately the same height, presumably when the author of the definitive list couldn't quite make up their mind. It's mighty hard to scour maps of built-up areas for contour lines, and in this peak-bagging game every metre counts. But Tower Hamlets' second crest is in a much more memorable spot, hurrah, the top right corner of Altab Ali Park. This central E1 greenspace has an illustrious history, it was originally the site of St Mary's Church, the white chapel after which the area is named. A recent makeover picked out the outline of the blitzed church in raised stone, a rather tasteful two-tone memorial, although the fag ends and beer cans discarded all around suggest the seating blocks are used for social pleasure rather than remembrance. And when you stop and think it makes perfect sense that the oldest church in the area would have been built on the highest patch of land, no matter how lowly its elevation. [3 photos]
When the highest point in a London borough is in a place called Something Flats, you know you're in for a mountaineering disappointment. But then, contourwise, Newham is the biggest disappointment of all. Large swathes of the south of the borough are under threat of inundation should the Thames ever flood, and in the event of global warming, no other borough goes under quicker. Indeed the last house in Newham to fall foul of rising floodwaters would be number 6 Sidney Road, Forest Gate... that is assuming rioting, looting and rampant malaria haven't taken out the capital by then. [3 photos]
