Sometimes you just want to go for a nice walk, nothing too taxing, a bit of a stroll, lots to see, pretty views, close to public transport, no distractions, potentially muddy, occasional wallabies, won't take long. So here's an off-piste mile across the western flank of Hampstead Heath, nowhere near enough to make a day of it but a nice walk all the same.
Let's start in Golders Hill Park. You can't just materialise here, you might have to catch a bus or walk up from Golders Green station but rest assured it's not far. The park's lovely, a large landscaped space sloping down from North End Road to a pair of woody ponds. It has a walled garden with exotic plants, an isolated bandstand and a footpath across a lake into a stumpery. It also has a cafe on the site of a big Victorian house, although the food offer was much better before the City of London allowed Benugo to take it over. And best of all it has wallabies.
The zoo at Golders Hill Park evolved out of donations from the rich and famous in Edwardian times. Have some deer, said Sir Samuel Scott. Do you fancy two emus, two kangaroos and two rheas, asked Lionel Walter Rothschild MP. I've got a black bear you can borrow for a couple of years, said Captain RW Templeton. The wallabies are a postwar addition arriving in 1949 along with a white stag and some rabbits. Today a long chain of double-fenced enclosures ascends from the wallaby enclosure, nothing enormous but enough to entrance a toddler for a decent while. I failed to spot the ring-tailed lemurs or the Scottish wildcats because they were wisely tucked away, but the donkeys were out being fed, Bubo the eagle owl gave me a good stare and the kookaburras reminded me of Orville the duck.
The signs on the fence are chattily informative, so for example I now know which animals have a tendency not to eat all their vegetables. A separate enclosure includes fallow deer, although I only spotted one yesterday and that was inert so best pick your time. But the best bit was definitely the wallabies, especially when they started hopping en masse down the hill because you don't see that every day, and that was my Australia Day experience.
Step through the gate beyond the deer enclosure and not only are you crossing from Barnet into Camden but also passing onto Hampstead Heath. This is the lesser known West Heath, a sprawling triangle of thick woodland crisscrossed by muddy paths and populated by many a labrador and their owners. The trick is to keep climbing, and at this time of year to wear stout footwear, and also to aim for the gate in the fence else you won't get into the next bit. This is the Hill Garden and Pergola, formerly the backyard of soap magnate Lord Leverhulme and exactly the kind of grand statement you can afford to make when you've made a fortune from detergent. In his day the pond used to be a tennis court so that's an improvement, but the surrounding raised paths and shelter are original.
The best part is up the steps at the rear and that's the pergola. It was started in 1905 as somewhere impressive for dinner guests to stroll, and is supported by tons of earth excavated during the digging of the Northern line extension to Golders Green. In 1911 it was extended above a pesky public right of way as a high level solution to provide access to the Hill Garden, and further extended in the years leading up to Leverhulme's death until it was over 250m long. These days it just goes on and on with endless rustic wiggles, and if you come in spring the wisteria is something magnificent.
It's not so colourful inJanuary but still an extraordinarily attractive structure and best of all devoid of other people. Usually if you come up here it's thronging with folk lining up Insta-zingers, more folk waiting for the first lot to get out of the way so they can line-up their Insta-zingers, Asian couples posing for interminable wedding shots, YouTubers pretending they discovered the place and assorted tourists just hanging out. If you're ever considering starting your own London-based social media channel it's de rigeur to kick off with a report from The Amazing Secret Pergola, even though the crowds suggest it can't be that secret after all.
Once you've had enough pergolaing you should descend the spiral staircase and yomp your way up to the top of the Heath. Here we find Jack Straw's Castle, a former hostelry admired by Dickens and Betjeman, now luxury flats. Here we find Whitestone Pond, a bullrushed gyratory and the highest point in inner London, which is currently semi-iced. Here we find Heath Brow, a cul-de-sac that's only one letter away from Heathrow Airport. Here we find the stone obelisk that's been Hampstead's war memorial since 1922, shifted from its original position to make way for more traffic. And here we find several paths down muddy slopes leading to Hampstead's exclusive hamlet.
This is the Vale of Health, an inappropriately upbeat name for what was originally a boggy bottom near the start of the River Fleet. It started out in 1720 as a single workshop for a harness-maker and grew inexorably into a few cottages, then a cluster of terraces and today a compact enclave of desirable homes. Those who've lived here include DH Lawrence, Stella Gibbons, Anthony Minghella and Liam Gallagher, although only DH has a blue plaque. Even newspaper baron Lord Northcliffe, founder of the Daily Mail, lived here in the 1870s and I particularly like that his childhood home now has a 'No Junk Mail' sign below the letterbox.
Wandering round the Vale of Health always feels a bit like trespassing, but feel free to follow the lamplit alleys, explore the quaint dead ends or head out to the caravan park where fairground owners overwinter their rides. I ended my nice walk by half-slipping down the muddy track to Vale of Health Pond for a reflective pause by the outflow drain. It makes sense to continue across the Heath and revel in the delights this has to offer but so many subsequent paths are possible that it would be presumptuous to label any such route the optimum nice walk to follow, just go your own way.
This is Grange Hill station. I remember walking past it before when I was several years younger, so I probably had some mints in my pocket. I remember they used to sell mints called Pacers which were square and chewy and came in stripy white and green wrappers. I remember another minty green food, a pack of meringues they used to sell in Marks and Spencer, I think they were chocolate coated, my Mum sometimes let us buy them as a treat. I remember getting them from the back of the old store in Queens Road Watford, although that's all a great big shopping centre now. I remember we went to the Harlequin just after it opened and a pane of glass fell from the roof, thankfully nobody was hurt. I remember a pigeon once dumped on me under a bridge but it was OK because I had a handkerchief. I remember hankies often used to come with initials embroidered in the corner although we don't do that so much these days.
This is Grange Hill station. I remember before they installed barriers at stations when you could just walk straight through although there was always someone checking the tickets back then. I remember they used to punch a hole in your ticket to show it'd been used whereas these days they often just scribble on it in pen. I remember when hole punches were an essential part of every stationery cupboard, back in the days when everything needed printing and filing away in ring binders. I remember almost injuring myself when closing a really thick ring binder because those metal prongs could do real damage. I remember my bank used to send me special folders to keep my statements in and they all came with ready-punched holes, those were different times. I remember queueing at the bank to get money out, it was funny but I always seemed to choose the slowest queue... that at least never changes.
This is Grange Hill station. I remember being surprised when I first heard the station was in Essex, but it's only just inside because one platform's right up against the Greater London boundary. I remember another borderline trip to Essex when I was very little, we had family in Nazeing and I don't think the house had mains electricity back then. I remember when plugs used to have red, black and green wires, now it's brown, blue and stripy which is much safer for colour blind people. I remember when appliances came with bare wires and you had buy the plugs separately and fit them yourself. I remember when every high street had a hardware shop, usually overseen by a man in brown overalls with a pencil behind his ear. I remember how important it was to have a well-sharpened pencil, nowadays people just type stuff and handwriting has gone completely downhill, I got through a lot of Quink ink back then.
This is Grange Hill station. I remember the first time I passed through the station which was in January 1980 with three schoolfriends, my Mum was really upset because we got home late and on the return journey we found a bottle of whisky on the train. I remember when you could drink on the tube, I even remember when you could smoke on it too, they had special carriages. I remember everyone just used to take for granted that their clothes would stink of other people's smoke when they went out, it's just the way things were back then. I remember a white polo neck jumper I had in the 1970s and I hated it but you can't go against parental clothes choices when you're nine. I remember on my ninth birthday we went to see Captain Pugwash at Watford Palace Theatre, not the cartoon but a swashbuckling stage version. I remember being sceptical there was ever a character called Master Bates and indeed there wasn't.
This is Grange Hill station. I remember going to another station called Grange something but that was Grange Park which is in Enfield. I remember the planters and flowerboxes outside looked very pretty, they won Enfield in Bloom in 2018. I remember when communities took real pride in their surroundings, that's everywhere and not just Grange Park. I remember the parade of shops nearby had a proper family butchers, those were the days when you queued daily for your meat and a man in a stripy blue apron chopped it up for you and you went home with a bag of bleeding flesh. I remember the excitement of buying lamb because that meant there was going to be mint sauce, it was always a great Sunday roast when we had mint sauce. I remember listening to Family Favourites over Sunday lunch, maybe even being allowed a glass of Blue Nun, but they never read out a request for anyone I knew.
This is Grange Hill station. I remember getting the bus past it, that would have been the 462 probably when they extended it past Fairlop. I remember another bus route ending in 62, that would be the 162 which you used to be able to ride with a Red Rover ticket and they were only 50p a day. I remember 50p went a long way in those days, you could buy ten ice creams from a van, you can't even get the Flake for that these days. I remember that woman relaxing in her bath with her chocolate as the water sploshed out, they don't make ads like that any more. I remember the Smash robots and the Cresta bear, whatever happened to Cresta, although the artificial colourings probably made you hyper and the sugar rotted your teeth. I remember when going to the dentist used to be a lot more traumatic but I try not to remember that.
This is Grange Hill station. I remember seeing it on the tube map when I was very little, it was a separate shuttle back then like it is now. I remember the day the Space Shuttle blew up, I found out on the way back from a university lecture as the news spread by word of mouth and everyone was so shocked. I remember when University Challenge was on ITV, I think it used to go out on Sundays, it may even have been in black and white. I remember watching snooker in colour for the first time which was quite an eye opener. I remember playing pool in a Youth Hostel in Derbyshire when I was 16 but I'm pretty sure I lost. I remember when a packed lunch with a bag of crisps was the most exciting thing ever, although salt and vinegar was still blue back then. I remember the little blue bag with the salt, although obviously they were only bringing it back for nostalgic reasons and my Dad remembers it for real.
This is Grange Hill station. I remember taking photos with a wind-on camera and having to wait a week to get twelve blurry shots back from the chemist. I remember winters used to be snowier, Wagon Wheels used to be thicker and rice pudding used to be served up with a dollop of jam in the middle. I remember when people bought evening newspapers, most women wore hats and coal was delivered by horse and cart. I remember writing letters to penpals, living without central heating and thinking garibaldi biscuits contained squashed flies. I remember power cuts, sexual inequality, leaded petrol and casual racial slurs. I remember when people looked to the future rather than endlessly harking back to the past. I remember when I was 12 making time to watch the first episode of a new children's series set in a comprehensive school because if you weren't in front of your TV at the time you never saw it, but I can't remember what it was called.
For my first long distance jaunt of 2023 I've been to north Oxfordshire to the market town of Banbury. To help you get your bearings, Banbury sits about halfway between Oxford and Coventry and is the only major town for miles. It also sits astride four important north-south connections - the River Cherwell, the Oxford Canal, the railway and the M40. It's best known for a nursery rhyme but it's not all cock horses, the town has many other fine features. I set myself a quest to find seven of them. [Visit Banbury][6 photos]
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse,
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
She shall have music wherever she goes
Quest 1 - find Banbury Cross
Banbury once had three crosses - the High Cross (in West Bar), the Bread Cross (on the High Street) and the Market Cross (in Cornhill). It's not known which of these was being referred to in the nursery rhyme. More awkwardly all three crosses were destroyed by puritans in the early 1600s, the local population being a joylessly religious bunch several decades before the rest of the country got to live under Cromwell's rule. It took until 1859 for the town to build a replacement cross, a 16m spire to celebrate the marriage of Queen Victoria's eldest daughter. Just don't expect to get up close because it sits in the middle of a small roundabout at the top of the High Street.
Check the neighbouring street corner, however, and you'll find a rather nicestatue of a woman on horseback. It's official name is The Fine Lady Upon A White Horse Statue and it was unveiled in 2005 by... who else?... the Princess Royal. Visually the horse is very much black because the statue's in bronze, but if you read the nursery rhyme inscribed around the sides of the plinth the correct colour should be evident. Rings and bells are present in the appropriate anatomical locations. Look out too for a beaming solar face on the side of a nearby metal planter, the Sun being the centrepiece of Banbury's coat of arms.
Quest 2 - find Banbury's Grade I listed building
That'd be St Mary'schurch which you can't miss because its classical domed tower soars above most rooftops. It would have been the oldest building in town except parishioners knocked down the original in the 1790s and built this extraordinaryconfection instead. A ring of decorated pillars supports a central dome above a huge openspace with excellent lines of sight ("a circle within an octagon within a square"), all beautifully painted and lit with sparkling chandeliers. Behind the altar is a gilded apse and round the walls are gorgeous stained glass windows depicting parables and the life of Christ which look modern but are actually Victorian. No other 18th century English parish church is larger.
I had trouble getting in thanks to a set of automatic doors triggered by movement sensors, one of which doesn't currently work. I had to be rescued by one of the volunteers on duty who led me inside and proceeded to enthuse about his very favourite building. I don't think they get that many visitors, indeed on a frosty Tuesday in January I was likely Banbury's sole tourist, so I was treated almost like royalty as I made positive noises about the place. It was a socially awkward but utterly charming encounter, and I left with an undeserved free gift and no chance to say a proper thankyou.
Quest 3 - find a Banbury Cake
The town's culinary speciality is the Banbury cake, a sweet pastry first recorded in the Tudor times. Some would argue it's very very much like an Eccles cake, being filled with currants, mixed peel and sugar, but it's usually more oval in shape and tends to contain a dash of rum. For over three centuries you could buy a batch at The Original Cake Shop in Parsons Street but postwar redevelopment thoughtlessly demolished that, thereby making my quest much harder. I assumed Banbury would have at least one independent bakery somewhere and set out to explore the central streets and back alleys. I found a lot of tasteful shops dotted round what was clearly a historic street pattern - yes, very nice - but only found cafes and a Greggs (and a heck of a lot of barbers shops), so absolutely zero luck on the Banbury cake front, dammit.
Quest 4 - find Banbury Castle
No chance. Banbury's concentric pentagonal castle led a fairly quiet life until it found itself in the thick of the English Civil War. The Battle of Edgehill was fought a few miles away in 1642 and the castle duly found itself under siege from Royalist forces. A couple of years later sides had switched and it was the Parliamentarians trying to get in, which they eventually managed when they came back two years later. After the war the castle was deliberately demolished to prevent it becoming a flashpoint ever again, and its stone was used to help rebuild the town centre which had suffered somewhat. So it's all gone.
Head to Castle Street today and you'll find a lacklustre landscape of car parks and access roads plus the backside of the Castle Quay shopping centre. This was the town's attempt to modernise itself in the 1970s, a triangular mall retaining one dramatic historic facade which now conceals multiple generic high street brands behind. Unfortunately the lead tenant was Debenhams and they shut up shop in 2021, then last year H&M pulled out and the eastern end now has a tumbleweed quality. The rest's doing alright though, including Lock 29 which is Banbury's first attempt at streetfood/craftbeer relevance.
Quest 5 - find Banbury Museum
Often town museums are housed in historic buildings, of which Banbury has plenty, but this one's in a grey box erected by the canal in 2002. You can enter direct from Spiceball Park Road (yes, the town's largest park has a really odd name) but better to enter from the shopping centre (via what counts as a tourist information centre but is really a gift shop), then up onto a bridge that doubles as an observation gallery (telling the story of the waterway below). That's a lift bridge down there (which passing narrowboaters still need to shift) and alongside is Tooley's Boatyard (which is much older than its ridged glasshouse structure suggests).
If you want to see the museum's current Star Wars exhibition that's £7.50 and if you just want the town's history that's upstairs and free. Banbury has quite a backstory from agricultural centre to Civil War hotspot to cloth-making hub. In the 18th century the town was known for plush, a shaggy worsted fabric, several examples of which are on display. Banbury's post-agricultural recession was lifted in the 20th century by the arrival of the Northern Aluminium Company, later Alcan, and in the 1960s Bird's Custard shifted down from Birmingham. Today it's the convenience of the M40 bringing prosperity, mostly thanks to logistics hubs fed by articulated lorries, and a circuit of the museum won't take long but it's nicely done.
Quest 6 - find a nice cup of coffee
Hands up, I don't drink coffee but I do adore the smell. Hurrah then that Banbury contains the world's largest coffee-processing facility, or at least it did in 1964 when the Bird's move took place. Today it's owned by Jacobs Douwe Egberts and continues to belch a lot of steam into the air over Ruscote Avenue. I got fairly close and can confirm that the delights of ground beans reached my nostrils, although it wasn't as strong as I'd hoped and I was more impressed to be gazing at the epicurean temple that once churned out Angel Delight.
Quest 7 - find western Europe's largest cattle market
Again no chance, sorry. The megasized market by the station opened in the 1920s and continued to thrive thanks to Banbury's extensive arable hinterland until 1998 when mad cow disease made it uneconomic. Today the site's covered by modern housing, a primary school and a mosque, of which only the latter has any architectural interest. Officially the cattle market was in Grimsbury, not Banbury, along with everywhere else to the east of the Cherwell. I walked too many of Grimsbury's streets all the way out to the border with Northamptonshire because I had time to waste before my train left, and then I thought I'd give my Banbury cake quest one last try.
Quest 3 again - find a Banbury Cake
I had ten spare minutes so I nipped back into the Tourist Information Centre and asked whether Banbury still had any independent bakeries. Well there's erm well no, said the nice lady, I don't think we do. But if it's Banbury cakes you want then we sell them here, look, in packets of three, as manufactured by a descendent of the original bakery dynasty. So I handed over £3.50 for a trio of properly homemade fruity parcels and gobbled one down before I got back to the station. I can see where the Eccles cake reference comes from but this was a bit lighter and a bit sweeter, and hell yes I am very much looking forward to eating my two remaining souvenirs of a spicy little gadabout.
Prime-numbered bus routes in Sutton: 127, 151, 157, 293, 463 (and arguably S3) Cities in the Republic of Ireland: Cork, Dublin, Galway, Kilkenny, Limerick, Waterford Bridges across the Thames in Oxford: Isis, Donnington, Folly, Grandpont, Gasworks, Osney Rail, Osney, Medley, Godstow, Thames Bones you have more than five of: cervical vertebrae, thoracic vertebrae, ribs, metacarpals, metatarsals, phalanges Famous Ians: Botham, Curtis, Dury, Fleming, Hislop, Janis, Lavender, McCaskill, McKellen, Messiter, Paisley, Rankin, Rush, Smith, Woosnam
Oxo Cube flavours: Beef, Chicken, Lamb, Vegetable Pubs on the A1200: The Three Crowns, The Beehive, The North Pole, The Myddleton Arms Recent Mayors of South Woodham Ferrers: Donna Eley, Murrough O'Brien, Alan Shearring, Bob Massey, Peter Wyatt, Sam Coley Offshore Munros: Sgurr Alasdair, Sgurr Dearg, Sgurr a’ Ghreadaidh, Ben More, Sgurr na Banachdaich, Sgurr nan Gillean, Bruach na Frithe, Sgurr Mhicchoinnich, Sgurr Dubh Mor, Am Bastier, Blabheinn, Sgurr nan Eag, Sgurr a’ Mhadaidh Greek letters not ending in 'a': εμνξοπρτυφχψ
The four lowest scoring teams in University Challenge: Sussex 10, Exeter 15, St John's (Oxford) 30, Lincoln (Oxford) 30 Seasons in which Arsenal FC lost more than 20 games: 1912–13, 1923–24, 1924–25 Creme Egg slogans: "How Do You Eat Yours?", "Licky, Sticky, Happy", "Eat It Your Way", "Here Today, Goo Tomorrow", "You’ll Miss Me When I’m Gone", "Goo Dares Wins", "Gooing For Gold", "Have a fling with a Creme Egg", "It's Hunting Season", "Creme Egg Eatertainment", "Creme Egg Golden Goobilee", "How do you NOT eat yours?" Banished Faithful: Nicky, Imran, Ivan, Tom, Rayan, Theo, Madelyn Kings and Queens who died aged 67: Henry I, James II, George I, George IV
Constituencies Bow has been in: Tower Hamlets, Bow and Bromley, Bow and Poplar, Bethnal Green and Bow, (will be Stratford and Bow) English islands larger than Canvey: Portsea, Foulness, Hayling, Sheppey, Wight Words beginning with K used in Batman Batfights: Kapow!, Kayo!, Ker-Sploosh!, Kerplop!, Klonk!, Klunk!, Krunch! Palindromic square numbers: 121, 484, 676, 10201, 12321, 14641, 40804, 44944, 69696, 94249, 698896, 1002001, 1234321, 4008004, 5221225, 6948496 Tube stations that went step-free in 2021: Amersham, Debden, Ealing Broadway, Ickenham, Wimbledon Park, Whitechapel, Nine Elms, Battersea Power Station, Osterley, Sudbury Hill
Most profitable UK companies in 1990: BT, BP, Shell, British Gas, Hanson, BAT, Grand Metropolitan, ICI, Glaxo, BTR Corners of the Rhubarb Triangle: Wakefield, Morley, Rothwell Top 10 singles by The Stranglers: Peaches, Something Better Change, No More Heroes, Golden Brown, Strange Little Girl, European Female, All Day and All of the Night Parties standing in two constituencies in the 2019 General Election: Christian Party, Communities United Party, North East Party, Peace Party, People Before Profit, Scottish Family Party, Socialist Equality Party, Socialist Party of Great Britain, Veterans and People's Party Kings and Queens whose reigns began in a year ending in 3: Henry V, Edward V, Richard III, Mary I, James I
Shipping Forecast areas adjacent to the Scottish mainland: Irish Sea, Malin, Hebrides, Fair Isle, Cromarty, Forth One-off 19th century FA Cup Winners: Blackburn Olympic, Clapham Rovers, Notts County, Old Carthusians, Oxford University, Royal Engineers Tram stops that start and end with the same letter: Dundonald Road, Mitcham, Sandilands, Arena, New Addington Full moons in 1976: Jan 17th, Feb 15th, Mar 16th, Apr 14th, May 13th, Jun 12th, Jul 11th, Aug 9th, Sep 8th, Oct 8th, Nov 6th, Dec 6th Munchkins: Bini Aru, Boq-one, Dr. Pipt, King Cheeriobed, Isomere, Jinjur, Kiki Aru, Ku-Klip, Margolotte, Mooj, Mopsi Aru, Nimmie Amee, Ojo the Lucky, Omby Amby, Realbad, Sister Six, Unc Nunkie
The first ten Roman Numerals in alphabetical order: C, CC, CCC, CCCI, CCCII, CCCIII, CCCIV, CCCIX, CCCL, CCCLI Counties Treasure Hunt went to more than once: Buckinghamshire, Clwyd, Cornwall, Cumbria, Derbyshire, Devon, Gwynedd, Kent, Gloucestershire, Greater London, North Yorkshire, Shropshire, Somerset, Suffolk, West Sussex, Wiltshire The four types of carrot: Chantenay, Danvers, Imperator, Nantes Organic compounds with an even number of each constituent atom: benzene, butane, ethane, hexane, naphthalene, octane Postcode areas adjacent to NW10: NW9, NW2, NW6, W10, W12, W3, W5, HA0, HA9
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European countries without a McDonalds: Albania, Belarus, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Iceland, North Macedonia, Montenegro, Russia, San Marino, Vatican City Ten nameless Bible characters: Noah's wife, Lot's wife, Potiphar's wife, Pharaoh's daughter, the Queen of Sheba, the three wise men, two thieves crucified with Jesus Clouds spelt backwards: subminolumuc, sulumuc, sulumucorric, sulumucotarts, sulumucotla, surric, sutartsobmin, sutartsorric, sutartsotla Letters worth more in English Scrabble than French Scrabble: MQ Letters worth more in French Scrabble than English Scrabble: KWXY
Names of the ravens at the Tower of London: Jubilee, Harris, Gripp, Erin, Poppy, Georgie, Edgar, Branwen Chemical elements named after places in Sweden: Yttrium, Terbium, Holmium, Erbium, Ytterbium Heinz Cup-a-Soup flavours: Cream of Chicken, Cream of Mushroom, Cream of Tomato, Cream of Tomato with a kick of Chilli, Cream of Tomato with a hint of Basil, Minestrone, Oxtail, Vegetable Countries including the letter J: Azerbaijan, Djibouti, Fiji, Jamaica, Japan, Jordan, Tajikistan The Latin names of the five types of pedestrian crossing: Equus quagga, Pelecanus onocrotalus, Fratercula arctica, Ramphastos tucanus, Pegasus
Yesterday you could walk down Black Boy Lane in Tottenham, indeed I did just that, but today you can't because Haringey council have renamed it. Today it's called La Rose Lane instead, much to the annoyance of several residents and the relief of others. I visited yesterday to experience a road in transition.
What I didn't manage to do is take a photograph of a street sign because they're all missing. The sign at the southern end of the road has been missing for at least a year according to Google Streetview but the two at the northern end are more recent removals. It's possible the council intend to add new street signs overnight and unveil them specially today, or perhaps they'll wait awhile until any fuss dies down.
Black Boy Lane has been in existence for at least 400 years and has been called Black Boy Lane for the majority of that time. It was almost certainly named after the Black Boy pub in the hamlet of West Green at the northern end of the lane, a hostelry first recorded in the late 17th century. What not certain is how the pub got its name, but that hasn't stopped a lot of the angriest people being certain of the derivation.
The impetus to change the name came from a borough-wide consultation following the death of George Floyd in 2020. One resident raised the issue and further engagement with the community "found that many other residents shared the concerns about the racial connotations of the name and the impact its continued use has on Black people in Haringey." That was the nettle grasped, or the can of worms opened, depending.
Black Boy Lane also used to be the name of two busstops on West Green Lane and they've both had to change too. The Men Who Change Signs came early so the stops already had their new stickers in advance of the renaming of the road. Onboard announcements lagged behind, so for example the 41 was still announcing the next stop as Black Boy Lane yesterday, and it'd be nice to imagine that'll change overnight but I suspect not.
Black Boy Lane, or La Rose Lane as it's become, is a sinuous street almost half a mile in length to the west of Seven Sisters. It has one school, one shop and about 100 houses, mostly Victorian. If you like your house to have a recessed porch with decorative tiling you'd like it here. Jewel of the street is Chestnuts Park at the southern end, once a field where flowed the Stonebridge Brook, which is long buried.
The council played it cautious by running a three-stage consultation, kicking off with "if we renamed this road what should we call it?" They offered a choice between Jocelyn Barrow Lane and La Rose Lane, each named after previously unrecognised black Haringey residents, and unsurprisingly the less mouthfully one won. Further stages then focused on whether to change the name, because best tackle one thorny issue at a time.
No council-owned properties have yet made the switch to the new name. Chestnuts Primary School still gives its address as Black Boy Lane Tottenham N15 on the cheery yellow sign above the front gate. Meanwhile the postwar terrace opposite the corner shop is still labelled 90-100 Blackboy Lane, a two word name which wasn't correct even yesterday so I wouldn't hold out much hope of this being updated any time soon.
Lengthy research by residents and staff at Bruce Castle Museum has failed to come up with a definitive answer to how the Black Boy pub got its name. Some say it's a reference to swarthy Charles II, others that it's plainly not a reference to anyone of African heritage. What is known, however, is that in the 1970s a stereotypical 'picaninny' featured on the inn sign so the connotation was once there, even if long ago removed.
The council's consultation process showed that a large majority of respondents were against the change, although this may have been a result of whipped-up campaigns on both sides. More significantly three-quarters of Black Boy Lane's residents said no, please don't do this to us, but the council said we're doingit anyway because it's offensive, indeed it's important to remember that consultations aren't referendums.
What's striking if you visit is that the old name definitely hasn't disappeared. Several houses now display prominent 'Black Boy Lane N15' signs in their windows, on their walls, on their doors or even on their sheds - I counted well over a dozen. These mark out the houses of the angriest residents, each keen to show they disagree with this imposed decision and keep the name alive. This manufactured seethingness is most evident at the northern end of the street.
John La Rose, after whom the road is now named, was a publisher, essayist, poet and former Haringey resident. In 1966 he founded New Beacon Books, the UK's first specialist Caribbean publishers, and later founded schools to support the education of West Indian children. He didn't live locally to Black Boy Lane but he did leave an outstanding legacy of social cohesion, and now all the street's energy bills will bear his name.
Having your address changed overnight induces considerable hassle, including needing to inform doctors, delivery companies, employers, insurers, mortgage companies and the DVLA. Haringey council are gifting £300 to all households on Black Boy Lane as a sweetener to help them make the switch, whilst recognising this is almost certainly an overpayment. Postcodes and house numbers will not change.
Halfway down the street is another recent council imposition, a clump of planters acting as a Low Traffic Neighbourhood filter. Only buses and a small number of exempt vehicles are allowed through with no favours for local traffic. You can imagine how ultra-furious this must have made some residents of Black Boy Lane - their road severed and renamed for seemingly senseless reasons by a council they never voted for.
It won't surprise you to hear that Black Boy Lane has cropped up in both the Daily Mail and Daily Express in recent days, although they didn't quite go so far as calling it London's wokest street. Discourse onTwitter has also been abrasive - why are they wasting money on this I'm not offended why is anyone offended it's pompous virtue signalling you're rewriting history FFS! Those in favour are conspicuous by their general absence.
The council are holding drop-ins at the local community centre all this week to assist residents affected by the change. I'm glad I'm not the one hosting as I imagine it's more likely be a touchstone for local friction than a source of useful advice. For a flavour of the arguments check out the message boards of the Harringay Online forum, although you may lose the will to live before reaching the bottom of page 77.
The Black Boy pub shut in 2012 having already been renamed before it closed, and now it's taking a local street name with it. You'd never call a street Black Boy Lane today, which is perhaps the best argument for renaming it but by no means a conclusive one. Whether you're celebrating today or screaming into the abyss, La Rose Lane is London's newest street name and a reminder that nothing's ever black and white.
Yesterday I got off the train at Crofton Park, which is not something I usually do, and took the side exit, which is not something I've ever done before.
A house opposite had a blue plaque on it, so I went to have a look and blimey what an unusual plaque.
Firstly it's a plaque to someone who hasn't been born yet.
Secondly it's a plaque to a character in the Star Trek universe.
Thirdly it was supposedly erected by the Vulcan High Council.
For all these reasons it's clearly a fake, although a solid piece of work and very convincing-looking.
AmandaGrayson is Spock's mother in the TV series, a human female married to a Vulcan who appeared once in an episode called Journey to Babel. This was first broadcast in September 1967 so you've had every chance to watch it. But there are two problems here. Firstly Journey to Babel is set in 2268 and this plaque claims Amanda died in 2258, and secondly Spock was only a Commander in The Original Series, not an Ambassador. Hardcore Trekkies would therefore argue that the plaque comes from the so-called Kelvin Universe in which the JJ Abrams Star Trek movies are set, where Spock now has the appropriate rank and Amanda falls to her death during the destruction of the planet Vulcan in the requisite year. If you're genuinely interested in the distinction I hope I've provided enough weblinks to satisfy your inner geek.
There is however no evidence anywhere in the Star Trek back catalogue to suggest that Amanda comes from Crofton Park. We know she comes from Earth and was a schoolteacher but at no point in her backstory are England, London or Brockley SE4 ever mentioned. It is hinted in the film Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country that one of her ancestors was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, but that's just an amusing throwaway line and the great crime novelist has no connection to southeast London. All I think we can say for certain is that the owner of this house on Marnock Road is a massive fan of the later Star Trek franchise and enjoys trolling their neighbours.
I'm obviously not the first person to spot the plaque, nor the first person to blog about it. Londonist ran a piece in 2019 tipped off by a local contributor to their Urban Oddities Facebook group, which I think is where I must have read about it before. But nothing quite beats the fun of stumbling unexpectedly upon a convincing anachronism in a random suburban street, especially when its existence is highly illogical. Let's just hope that this Victorian terrace is still standing in two centuries time, and that the schoolteacher who resides here gets the chance to boldly go, live long and prosper.
If you're of a certain age you'll likely have spent a lot of time listening to radio on 247m medium wave. This landmark wavelength has carried Radios 1, 2 and 3 in its time, plus more recently Virgin and Absolute Radio, but all programmes ceased on Friday morning and tomorrow it's being switched off for good. Here's a quick history in tribute to a formative frequency.
1948: A conference of European broadcasters held in Copenhagen agrees plans to respace/reallocate medium and long wave stations. 15th March 1950: The Copenhagen Plan comes into effect at 2am. The Light Programme remains on 1500m (200kHz) but the BBC can also now use 247m (1214kHz) for a number of low power relay stations including Brookmans Park, Moorside Edge, Westerglen and Burghead. The first programme to be broadcast on 247m is the 9am news followed by Housewives' Choice with Robin Richmond. [LIGHT PROGRAMME: 17 years] 30th September 1967: The Light Programme evolves into Radio 2 and stays on 1500m LW. Meanwhile Radio 1launches on 247m, kicking off at 7am with Tony Blackburn playing Flowers In The Rain by The Move. Jingles make a big thing of the new wavelength (247... music power!) and millions tune their transistor radios. Reception is better during daytime than after dark. [RADIO 1: 11 years] 1975: A conference of European broadcasters held in Geneva agrees plans to respace/reallocate medium and long wave stations. Frequencies will now be multiples of 9kHz. 23rd November 1978: The Geneva Plan comes into effect and all BBC radio stations shufflearound. Radio 1 switches to 275m and 285m requiring a completely new set of jingles. This vacates 247m which is taken over by Radio 3. Technically this now uses 1215kHz rather than 1214kHz, but these frequencies are equivalent to 246.91m and 247.12m respectively which both comfortably round to 247. The first programme to be broadcast is the 7am news followed by Overture and Morning Concert. Most Radio 3 listeners are listening on FM so the scratchy medium wave reception is less of an issue. Test Match Special will be a 247m staple for several summers. [RADIO 3: 13 years] 29th February 1992: Radio 3 stops broadcasting on medium wave. Its frequency is to be used by a new national commercial station.
30th April 1993: 247m (1215kHz) is the new home of Virgin 1215, a commercial rock station. It won the UK franchise with a consortium owned by Richard Branson, Apax Partners, JP Morgan and Sir David Frost. The station launches at 12:15pm, obviously, playing Born To Be Wild by INXS. The disc jockey on the first programme is Richard Skinner. Chris Evans will keep cropping up. [VIRGIN: 15 years] 28th September 2008: Virgin is rebrandedAbsolute Radio having been bought out by The Times Group, an Indian company. The first record to be played is "A Day in the Life" by The Beatles. Guitar-based rock predominates. Following acquisition by the Bauer Group in 2013 Absolute spreads onto multiple FM frequencies formerly occupied by independent local radio stations, and also splinters into several decade-based digital stations. 1215 kHz lingers on, but powering the transmitters is expensive and analogue audiences are declining so Bauer eventually ask permission to turn medium wave off. [ABSOLUTE: 14 years] 20th January 2023: At midnight medium wave transmissions end and Absolute becomes a digital-only station. The last song to be broadcast is Absolute Beginners by David Bowie. A 10 minute tribute to 247m is played, featuring clips from the Light Programme, Radio 1, Radio 3, Virgin and Absolute Radio. You can listen to that tribute here or, if you prefer more hissy crackle for medium wave authenticity, here. 23rd January 2023: A closedown loop stating that Absolute Radio "is no longer available on AM" ceases, the transmitters are turned off and seven decades of radio on 247m end. Non-stop Two Four Seven is no more.
London's museums and galleries are world class, inspiring and brilliant. Most are also free but that doesn't necessarily mean they're simple to get into.
Yesterday I went to seven of the biggest to see how much of a faff it was. To keep things simple I didn't take a bag with me, I just swanned up to the main entrance and attempted to walk inside. It being a Friday in January there were no queues, so any delays were solely the choice of the institution concerned.
I'm pleased to say that two of the seven were entirely unfaffy... I walked straight in unchallenged and enjoyed what lay beyond.
My congratulations to Tate Modern and the V&A for letting visitors just walk inside. This is a particular triumph for Tate Modern because in autumn 2021 the faffiness of their late-covid entrance procedures frustrated me to the point of almost bursting into tears.
Let's count down the remaining five in order of increasing faffiness as I bring you...
London's Faffiest Museums
5)Imperial War Museum
I nearly got away with this one. I walked up the main steps and although an attendant was on duty beside the second set of doors I had clear blue water between me and the museum entrance. But then a voice called out from the ticket desk as another member of staff asked "Have you been here before?" I didn't say dozens of times, I just said yes, and then she slipped in her next scripted question... "Are you interested in donating £5?" A fair enough request, and there were indeed devices for fixed-price donations lined up by the door, but I declined. This was only a few seconds of diversion so not especially faffy, and that's why the IWM comes in fifth. I enjoyed the new-ish Second World War Galleries, technically my second time round but it's so much better when there isn't a large school party going round too.
4)Natural History Museum
This wasn't too terrible but they don't let you walk straight in, they've set up a chicane just inside the main entrance. This is ostensibly for bag checking purposes but towards the end includes a separate chicane designed to funnel you past the contactless donation terminals. They have a fivepounder and a tenpounder, you can't miss them. What's more two members of staff were positioned to either side yesterday, eagerly exhorting visitors to cough up with a heartfelt "any donations will be gratefully received". I didn't see a single person tap anything as they walked past, but the spiel must work if it's worth devoting two waged employees solely to schmoozing for cash. In the Vault at the back of the Minerals gallery I admired a 103g chunk of the Winchcombemeteorite, the pre-prehistoric space rock that crashlanded onto a Gloucestershire driveway a couple of years ago.
3)The National Gallery
This is the museum that takes security most seriously. Everybody who enters has to walk through a detector arch, awaiting their turn while the lights change from red to green and the guard ushers them through. It's never made explicit what's being detected but given recent canvas-based vandalism you'd hope it spots knives, glue and soup. Once my scrutiny was complete I was invited to head straight for the revolving doors - "Come this way please, you don't have any bag" - and I can't imagine how dispiriting it must be to spend your entire working day saying that. In Room 12 is a portrait of a beardy16th century Italian who looks so contemporary (other than the ermine and the feathered hat) that you could well imagine him brooding over a macchiato in Marylebone.
2)British Museum
It used to be so easy to nip into the British Museum but that was before they set up the security slalom in the courtyard. By the main gate it divides in three hierarchical channels, one for 'Exhibition ticket holders', one for 'Timed tickets only' and one for 'Non-tickets', whatever non-tickets are. It takes about a minute to walk up to the bag check hut, with no advantage whatsoever for those with timed tickets if there are no queues. Guards wait at little desks entitled Please wait to be called forward which makes it look like you have to stop, except this is where an attendant announced "Guys come this way please, if you have no bags no need to queue". It's very tempting at this point to call back "so why did you drag me all this way so I could ignore an entirely unnecessary process?", but probably unwise. Five staffed donation booths lie ahead, but again are easily snubbed so you can simply head back to the main steps instead. Not only is this full-on unnecessary faff, it looks and feels like a tatty temporary solution the British Museum threw together years ago and have never got round to making permanent. Even though the Queen opened the China & South Asia galleries in 2017 I'd somehow not stumbled upon them before, and not only were they fascinating but also huge and this is why it pays to keep exploring.
1)Science Museum
London's faffiest museum, without a shadow of a doubt, is the Science Museum. Not only do they want you to pre-book a free ticket, they're fully intent on making you do that even if you walk up to the entrance and the place is empty. Admittedly if you look at their website in advance they do warn "Please note you will need to pre-book a free ticket", but nobody who's been used to just turning up for years would expect such a thing. I think they introduced this system during the pandemic, and I think this because there's still a prominent banner outside the main entrance saying "To help keep everyone safe we're limiting the number of people who can visit each day" and "Please follow Government guidelines on how to keep yourself and others safe" and "If you think you may have COVID-19 symptoms go home and self-isolate". At a museum dedicated to the noble art of science, such woefully out-of-date guidance is piss poor.
This time the entrance is divided into two pathways, one for the compliant and one for the anarchists. The former get to head to a special terminal and scan themselves in and the latter prepare to suffer. Once inside I was asked "Can your phone access QR codes?" and I could see what was coming so I said no, which was a lie but I had no intention of cooperating with their processes. Instead they directed me to a separate desk where a lone member of staff was sitting at a terminal ready to pre-book my ticket. I was really glad there was no queue given how long a single transaction was about to take.
She asked for my name so I made one up and she said oh good that's nice and easy to spell, they're often a lot more complicated than that. Next she asked for my email address and I pretended I didn't have one, which we both knew was a lie but I had no intention of receiving Science Museum marketing spam. She then tapped away at her terminal for at least half a minute, maybe more, and I wondered what kind of ridiculous process required all this additional data entry just to issue a free ticket. Eventually she printed it out and gave it to me, and it included a customer number, an order number, a ticket number and a barcode plus a separate rippy-off section which nobody would ever rip off. On a previous visit I'd then been asked to scan myself in, but on this occasion I was simply directed straight through the barriers making the entire ticketing charade irrelevant.
I can confirm that this Dalek isn't there to exterminate those who fail to donate.
When I got home I checked out the pre-booking system I hadn't used, but which I'd have been expected to use if I'd said my phone was QR-enabled. The number of steps required was insane, especially given this was for a free ticket. First you have to pick a date and book a timeslot. Not a single Friday slot was sold out, indeed only the first slot on Saturday is so far unavailable suggesting the entire procedure is fundamentally pointless. If you pick a timeslot which expires before you reach the checkout they kick you out and you have to start again. Next you select how many tickets you want, ideally ignoring the three "with donation" options at the head of the list and the exhibition upselling which follows.
When you're ready to check out your shopping basket (total £0.00) oh god, they now want you to log in or create an account. It is possible to checkout without registering but they still insist on asking for contact information (three required fields) and a billing address (four more), even though they have no intention of charging you anything. You also have to tick a box to say you're not a robot, but I guess at a Science Museum they can't be too careful. Next they urge you to add a donation, and finally you get through to a confirmation page where it turns out they didn't need to email you a ticket because the QR code you need is right there. And this is on the eighth screen since the beginning of the process, a protracted palaver they were hoping you'd complete in the foyer on your phone. The faff levels here are off the scale. I had a nice walk round, thanks, making sure to tick off the Apollo 10 commandmodule, the 2LOtransmitter and Boris's Covid-19 lecternsign.
No London museum is faffier than the Science Museum. This is not a proud boast, this is deliberate systematic madness, and I hope they see sense and defaff their procedures some day soon.
London has a new Thames bridge, although it doesn't so much cross the river as swoop out beneath another bridge and reconnect on the far side. It provides a super little shortcut on the Thames Path. It opened last Friday. It's at the southeasternmost point of the London borough of Hounslow. It has its own website. It's of fairly niche use. It's ratherswish.
Imagine you're walking round Dukes Meadows, the recreational outpost at the southern tip of Chiswick. It's mostly sports pitches, boat clubs, more sports pitches and a golf course, so the main reason for being here would be because you're on a nice riverside stroll or jog, perhaps walking a dog. Formerly when you got to Barnes Bridge you had to deviate inland to a subway under the railway and back down the other side, a half-kilometre detour, but now you can follow the Dukes Meadows Footbridge and get through much quicker. Barnes Bridge also has its own footbridge providing direct cross-river access to Barnes so now you can easily get to that from both flanks, not just one.
The footbridge has a steel and aluminium structure which was floated upriver last summer (in stages) and rests on a series of piers. It bends quite a bit as it weaves out from the riverbank, ducks underneath the railway bridge and lands on the other side. It wiggles further upstream than downstream because you can't just touch down anywhere in a nature reserve. It has inbuilt lamps which illuminate at night and at times of particular gloom. I wonder if they'll close it off during the Boat Race or whether it'll become a popular vantage point. It'll be an even better shortcut once connections to either side are improved. I liked it, though as a non-local I can't imagine using it very often.
Ian Visits has a lot more photos. ChiswickW4.com have been following the story foryears. Add it to your list of new bits of London infrastructure you probably ought to go and see sometime.
The latest cartographic project from Footways London is a walking map of Hackney. It's beautifully produced, it covers the entire borough (and surrounding area) and is currently free.
Footways maps generally start out free and then either go paid for or out of stock, so getting in early pays dividends. I picked up my copy at Hackney Museum where the lady at the desk told me I could take as many as I liked. This seemed a peculiar way to be distributing a valuable resource, but it's also what the bloke at City Hall told me last year when I went in to pick up a London Nature Trail so maybe they just like getting rid of them.
The Footways network consists of specially-selected streets and backways chosen to be appealing and accessible, not necessarily direct. They're depicted on the map as vibrant pinky-orange lines, a bit like the capillaries of a salmon pulsing across the borough, tempting you to follow and explore. Sticking to the routes shown is much easier with a printed map than the online version, which has a habit of resetting, but there's nothing stopping you taking an alternative path where the routes don't quite go the way you want.
I used the summary map on the back to plan a very rough route from Hackney Central to Hackney Wick via Dalston, Clapton and Homerton - estimated duration 1½ hours - then used the detailed map to pick a precise route on the ground. It proved impressively simple to follow because all the street names are clearly marked.
I'd walked round Hackney repeatedly over lockdown so thought I knew the area well, but my Footways route still took me down five roads I'd never been down before. One was Sylvester Path behind the Hackney Empire, place of interest number 11 on the map, and another led to a compound packed with TV trucks filming something at the Kingsland Shopping Centre.
On my journey I also passed a Windrush sculpture, a caffeinated hipsterjoint, much colourful graffiti, an ill-advised woolly hat, multiple charming Victorian terraces, a discarded mattress, several mosaics, a man pushing chunks of halal carcass in a shopping trolley, a half-frozen pond, a woman hurling bread at pigeons, a heck of a lot of delivery vans, a genuine NE postcode sign, a startlingly bricky row of modern social housing, five pubs, a concrete crucifix, a giant floppy palm, a patch of muddy woodland and a narrowboat dressed up as a Viking longboat. So that was fun.
I needn't tell you precisely where I went, that's not the point of the Footways project, it's more a good excuse to get out and explore lesser-known routes from A to B. I'd also say that Hackney is ideally suited to such a map, its dense network of attractive streets making it one of London's most walkable boroughs. But if you do head down to the museum to pick up a map, please don't take them all because someone else is very likely to want a copy too.
This is one end of a District line carriage. The seat on the left is closest to the driver's cabin. The seat on the right is closest to the doors.
The seat in the middle is a lot less worn than the seats to either side because, given the choice, people prefer to sit at the end of the row. I think the seat on the left is slightly more worn than the seat on the right because people prefer the privacy of the seat furthest from the doors, but that's arguable.
If you're on an emptyish train today, perhaps muse on what the erosion of the moquette tells you about people's preferred seating habits. And also perhaps wonder whether backside erosion should be quite so evident after less than ten years' wear and tear.
If you've ever wondered where London's oldest tree is, you're probably looking at a photo of it right now.
This is the churchyard of St Andrew's in the village of Totteridge. If you've been paying attention over the years you'll know where Totteridge is, but if not then note that Totteridge & Whetstone station lies at the northern end of the Northern line and consider that a clue.
The seriously old tree we seek is the yew tree near the church door, otherwise known as the Totteridge Yew because it's a yew tree and it's in Totteridge.
If you've ever wondered how old London's oldest tree is you'd be in good company. We know it's at least 350 years old because Sir John Cullum measured its girth in 1677 and found it to be 26 ft, indeed it must be a lot older than 350 years because you don't get a girth like that overnight. What's more the girth of the tree is still 26 ft today, i.e. exactly the same pretty much, which means all that massive growth must have occurred a lot longer ago.
It's notoriously difficult to date yews because of the way they hollow out as they age. However it is very easy to make up an age, or to misread a carefully couched statement and present speculation as fact, and this is very much the case for the Totteridge Yew.
According to a 2017 blogpost on the Mayor's website london.gov.uk, the Totteridge Yew is "the oldest tree in London" and "a staggering 2000 years old". But if you check the sources under the post it seems they got all their information from a Londonist post written in 2008 which didn't quite say the same thing. It merely said "experts have concluded that this one is somewhere in the region of 2000 years old, quite possibly pre-dating Londinium itself". And if you check the sources in that post it seems they got all their information from a contemporary local newspaper article which said the yew "could be as many as 2000 years old, according to specialists." From "could be as many as 2000" to "in the region of 2000" to "2000", that's how arboreal Chinese whispers work.
The "up to 2000" evaluation came via experts from the Conservation Foundation, the Ancient Yew Group and tree officers from Barnet Council, and followed many years of research so ought to be legit. They confirmed that the tree "could outdate any other living specimens in the borough and possibly London", and nobody seems to have found an older tree so the Totteridge Yew takes London's crown. The Royal Oak near the Pen Ponds in Richmond Park is thought to be 750 years old and the Minchenden Oak in Southgate is believed to be 800, but only the Totteridge Yew breaks into four figures.
It's a lovely knobbly tree with vibrant green needles and a thick branching trunk. It's fit and healthy, unlike some ancient trees whose frail branches need permanent propping up. It's one of at least three yew trees around the church so make sure you're looking at the right one. It overhangs two large white tombs where Sir Charles Nicholson and Thomas Garle are buried. It's not fenced off, it's a proper part of the churchyard furniture. And it's also the oldest living thing inside the Greater London boundary, so it's believed, so it's pretty amazing you can just jump off the 251 bus and touch it.
Yewfacts
• Until 1965 the Totteridge Yew was the oldest tree in Hertfordshire.
• St Andrew's is merely 700 years old (and the current building only 230).
• The Ankerwycke Yew near Runnymede in Surrey is thought to be 2500 years old.
• The Fortingall Yew in Perthshire is 2000-3000 years so old may be the UK's oldest tree.
• The Llangernyw Yew near Conwy may be 4000 years old if David Bellamy is correct or 'only' 1500.
• A bristlecone pine in Nevada is thought to be 4854 years old so yews are nothing record breaking.
Something amazing has happened this week.
Bow Road station suddenly has next trains.
If you check most stations online or in an app you can easily find out when the next trains are due. Be it Bond Street, Barbican, Bournemouth or Bolton the time and destination of the next few trains are widely known. But not at Bow Road, alas, because we've always been a Next Train Black Hole and all you'd ever get is "we are unable to provide live updates at the moment" or "check boards at station".
TfL introduced 'Online departure boards' for all 11 tube lines on their website in April 2009. You could now sit at home or in the office and check a bespoke page for each station which told you when the next three trains were due, and this was often more information than if you were standing on the platform. If you had the right device and the station was in the open air you could also check the next trains on your phone - something we take for granted today, even underground, but which was absolutely cutting edge for 2009.
But a few stations got left out. Chesham was missing, for example, plus Bow Road and the entire Hammersmith & City line west of Paddington. Meanwhile Grange Hill only worked clockwise for some reason, Stepney Green westbound only and Mile End only for Central line trains. And while most of these eventually got sorted, the east London District line black hole lingered on and was only finally fixed this weekend, fourteen long years later. It's a total E3 gamechanger.
And it's all thanks to improvements to signalling, because TfL can only tell the public where their trains are if they know precisely themselves. Where stretches of the network had prehistoric wiring - for example Whitechapel to Bow Road - no data made it through to the Trackernet system and so nothing could be passed on.
It took until the first tranche of the Four Lines Modernisation programme in March 2019 before the western end of the Hammersmith & City got functioning Next Train displays rather than staff having to make regular announcements. And it's the implementation of stage six - SMA6 from Stepney Green to Becontree - that's finally brought Bow Road onside. It's had other effects too.
This was signal A887 shining red at the head of the eastbound platform on Friday.
And here it is on Monday, ignominiously covered with plastic sheeting and taped over with a big white X.
RIP A887 (1958-2023). It's no longer needed to tell drivers when it's safe to leave the station because the trains now drive themselves. Instead the new visual signal that it's safe for the train to depart is that a light on the exterior of each carriage shines white just before the doors close. Last week the trains at Bow Road never ever lit up white and now they all do.
But have the Next Train indicators finally started working properly? Alas no, not yet.
The Next Train Indicators at Bow Road were first switched on in April 2005. Metronet installed them as part of their bungled upgrade of the station with the promise that even if they didn't work to start with they would eventually. At first they showed no more information that the old lightbox, i.e. just the destination of one next train. And so things stayed for the next twelve years, apart from the six months when condensation got into the mechanism and the display showed nothing at all.
Then in August2017 an upgrade of the underlying software permitted the display of the next three trains, which should have been the end of the matter except those next three trains were generally false. It was as if someone was rolling dice behind the scenes and picking potential destinations at random, then rolling them again and again, sometimes several times a minute, presenting gibberish which bore no relation to what was actually on its way.
TfL should have switched off Bow Road's Next Train Indicators but for some reason they left the electronic tombola running, perhaps because fiction is more reassuring than a blank screen. For the last few years they've made regular announcements warning that "Some of the information boards on the platforms are not showing the correct destinations", but it's hardly a substitute for something passengers at other tube stations take completely for granted.
I had high hopes that last weekend's signalling upgrade would finally end 18 years of utter Next Train Indicator inadequacy but alas not. On Monday morning (sigh) the boards were blank other than a generic message... then (ooh) sprang into life listing three next trains... then within a minute (meh) reverted back to generic nothingness again. This repeated in an unhelpful, mostly blank, way, then petered out.
On Tuesday I was hopeful because the westbound display said Hammersmith in 2, Wimbledon in 3, Richmond in 5. Unfortunately it still said Hammersmith in 2, Wimbledon in 3, Richmond in 5 ten minutes later, having not changed at all, suggesting the display was somehow stuck and therefore still completely useless. I understand the problem's in the Hammersmith control room, not here at Bow Road, and the underlying issue has been identified but not fixed.
The eastbound indicator and the display upstairs in the ticket hall look like they might now be correct, but the westbound is still hopelessly frozen. I'm hopeful that Wednesday (or some day soon) will bring the successful update required and I will report on this amazing event in the box below, should it ever happen.
Hallelujah! The westbound display was fixed at 11:30am on Wednesday, according to a reader in the know. I can confirm it was still frozen when I left this morning and was working properly when I came back this afternoon. It now seems to be listing the next three trains in the correct order with genuine timings, a treat Bow Road's passengers haven't previously enjoyed. But the "Some of the information boards on the platforms are not showing the correct destinations" announcement continues to play every five minutes, so either they're not yet working properly or somebody's failed to turn the message off.
In the meantime I'm comforting myself that that the online Next Train webpage appears to be working perfectly, indeed I've sat and watched it for an hour and seen a succession of fully plausible trains travelling east and west towards the station and arriving pretty much when they said they would. I'm also excited that I can now open up an app on the platform to discover what's coming, indeed I've stood there and done just that, a minor miracle which wouldn't have worked this time last week.
The Bow Road black hole is finally closing after almost two decades of digital inadequacy, and it'll be a red letter day if and when it vanishes for good.
