Living Walls of Camden Of all the things you could do at the weekend, how about a walking tour of Camden's social housing? The Camden Tour Guides Association ran a two hour tour on Saturday to celebrate the borough's 50th birthday, part of a lengthy celebration that this borough is taking more seriously than most. And Camden has a housing record to be proud of, building tens of thousands of homes over the years, and embracing an astonishing diversity of architecture. Over 85% of Camden's population live in flats, we were told, which is the highest proportion in the country, so it's just as well they tend not to build nasty shoeboxes. You could tell it was going to be a good tour when one of the London Assembly members had booked in to attend, and I for one was wondering where precisely our route was going to go. There are socialhousinggems all over the borough, as this map indicates, but kicking off outside the Old Town Hall on the Euston Road meant we surely couldn't tick off very many.
The first stop was Flaxman Terrace, a very early example of social housing, indeed only the second block to have been erected by St Pancras Borough Council. That was back in 1908, in an era when a caretaker's house would automatically be included in any development. Spacewise things were rather smaller than we expect today, and the 84 flats have since been remodelled into about half that. We'd be spending most of our time across the road in Somers Town, an underrated community sandwiched between Euston and King's Cross (and under threat of partial demolition from the arrival of HS2). Take Levita House, for example. This Grade II listed building is tucked away beyond the British Library, and was constructed by the London County Council around 1930. Its architect George Topham Forrest wanted to bring something of the continent to inner London, and based this dense seven-storey block on modernist Viennese public housing. We peered in through the gated arch and tried not to disturb the locals.
The LCC was Britain's most successful deliverer of affordable homes, knocking up over 200,000 mostly-flats over its 75-year lifetime. At their peak they employed 350 architects on London-wide projects, with a completion rate that puts today's privately-focused market to shame. One of their last was on Churchway, after which (in 1965) they handed over the reins to Camden who got on with their new more modern design. And blimey, Oakshott Court. This fills one whole block at the heart of Somers Town, and looks more like a stepped Mediterranean terrace than a council house development. Two perpendicular banks of flats meet in the top corner, with apartments stacked so that every tenant has a southerly aspect, and there's even room for brightly planted gardens to be squeezed inbetween. Compared to any 21st century shiny box in the sky it looks like heaven. The site has form as social housing too, dating back to 1784 when a 15-sided block called ThePolygon was right built here. In its early years this slum was the birthplace of Frankenstein author Mary Shelley, although it's her campaigning mother Mary Wollstonecraft who's commemorated by a brown plaque, as we were shown on the tour.
Further quality council blocks were pointed out ("see that urn up there?"), although Camden's other most startling projects are much further north and we missed those. Instead the walk drifted more into "we know some interesting facts about this area and can twist them into the general theme of housing" territory, which was fine, this being a fascinating part of town, but not quite what I'd been expecting. Then to finish we wandered up Camley Street to a brand new staircase down to the canal, and followed the towpath (in parts floating to avoid building works) past the most recent model for Camden's housing. Tightly packed apartment towers are being erected on the site of a former gasworks, and the moneyed will eventually be able to live in flats inside three restored gasholder frames. The development's not going to make a dent on Camden's thirty thousand strong housing list, that's for sure.
It had been an illuminating tour, both geographically and historically, not least regarding changing attitudes towards rented accommodation. Where the state once propped up those unable to afford market rates, and built homes to be proud of, now the gap between provision and need is becoming unbridgeable. And above all it re-opened my eyes to Somers Town, which I thought I'd explored but in reality anything but. So next time you're half an hour early for a train from St Pancras or Euston, why not forego that coffee and a pastry in favour of a brief wander round the neighbouring backstreets?
And while I'm in the area, have you spotted the Ladybird book exhibition that's currently taking place at The House of Illustration? I visited (and enjoyed) when it was in Bexhill earlier in the year, and now this marvellously retro display has come to London. It'll cost you £7 to get in, whereas on the south coast it was free, but this time no expensive train ticket is required. Peter and Jane await your presence.
It's three years today since the opening ceremony of the 2012 Olympic Games.
Here's what's still not open...
• the Olympic Stadium (OK, so the Anniversary games are on, and the Rugby World Cup is on its way, but West Ham don't get in for another year)
• the surrounding 'island' (and its riverside footpaths)
• the loop road round the back of the Olympic Stadium...
• ...and the associated footpath linking to the Greenway
• two footpaths south to Stratford High Street
• a chunk of the Greenway (for which we can still blame Crossrail)
• the replacement allotments (south) near Marshgate Lane
• much of Here East (formerly iCity, formerly the Press and Broadcast Centre)
• the Canal Park (the grass'll grow eventually, surely)
• the majority of the surrounding offices and flats
• Sweetwater, East Wick, Marshgate Wharf, Pudding Mill
In Merton, by the River Wandle, there's an arterial road through a retail park. Underneath the arterial road there's a subway. And in the subway is a door that's usually locked, but is occasionally opened to reveal a medieval secret beneath the carriageway. That'll be Merton Abbey Chapter House(1114-1538). And it was open to visitors yesterday, and it's open again today.
The immediate locality has a peerless history. The Romans built Stane Street directly through the site, and then a millennium later Gilbert, sheriff of Surrey, established a priory church. It grew to become terribly important, esteemed by royalty, and a stop-off for King John on his way to sign Magna Carta. Famous pupils at the priory include Thomas a Becket, and also England's only Pope, the almost famous Adrian IV. 500 years ago Henry VIII razed it to the ground, and the riverside site was reappropriated for water-powered industry - William Morris would eventually choose to site his textile mills here. A lightly used railway passed through, including an even less frequented station called Merton Abbey, closed in 1929. The majority of the priory's ruins are now lost beneath a giant Sainsbury's hyperstore, thankfully dug over by archaeologists before the car park and frozen meat aisles went in. Then in the 1990s the council built a new trunk road, Merantun Way, along the line of the railway, except this was precisely where the Chapter House's foundations still lay. So they raised the carriageway slightly, created a concrete-topped chamber underneath, and Dorking-bound traffic now drives obliviously across the top.
The site today is horribly blandly out-of-townly commercial. The Sainsbury's is a giant box above a car park, now coupled up with an M&S to lure the car-driving populace of SW19. Across the road is an architecturally dead Premier Inn, plus a Pizza Hut and a KFC of the kind that uninspired families drive to after work. Admittedly Merton Abbey Mills down by the river is rather lovelier, with William Morris's works now populated by craft stores and restaurants with a splash of character, and a waterwheel that still turns same as it ever did. But there's no joy to crossing Merantun Way through the subway, descending past the foot of an electricity pylon, not unless the door in the wall is open.
It was open yesterday, if only the passing shoppers could be bothered to step inside. Initially they were more fixed on grabbing a trolley than on archaeology, and once they had bulging orange bags it was too late. But several folk had come deliberately, having seen the rare opening was taking place, and I overheard at least one couple say "Oh, I've always wanted to look in here." Spread out beneath the low grey roof is a dimly-litchamber, perhaps the size of two tennis courts, with a staked out border around a sandy expanse in the centre. This is approximately the shape of the old chapter house, the remains of whose stone walls can be seen raised intermittently along much of the perimeter. One end curves more than the other - this used be the apse - hence the bulge you'll have seen in the subway wall outside. If you're good you'll be allowed to walk out into the centre of the room for a closer look, and if you're a small boy called Rufus your parents may allow you to play in the 'Archaeology For Young Children' sandpit dig, at least until it's time to insist that you stop having fun and leave.
It was in this very room that The Statute of Merton was drawn up in 1236, an agreement between the barons and the king along the lines of Magna Carta, and generally considered to be the very first English parliamentary statute. Various aspects of the site's history are explored around the edge of the room, including that of the priory itself and the dig that rediscovered it. Bits of masonry may, or may not, be from the original abbey, and several of the sheets stuck up on the displays have a slightly faded "we found this in a magazine" feel. A particular focus is the work of William Morris, including catalogues of wallpaper, a few Liberty dresses, and a small Arts and Crafts bedecked sitting room, which manages to create the right atmosphere out of not a great deal. If you're smitten there's a table of heritage related goodies in the far corner, most of them paper-based, and probably a gaggle of volunteers to whom all credit for the attraction's opening should be directed.
There are plans afoot to open up the Chapter House to a wider audience. Almost £200,000 has been set aside by the Lottery and the council to create a proper Visitor Centre, the main effect of which will be to replace the southern wall of the enclosure with a new glazed wall so that anyone can peer in, and to greatly improve illumination. Part of the plans will also provide a toilet, a kitchen and a dedicated storage space, elevating the basic facilities to the level of say a small church hall. Eventually there'll be an education centre, even a cafe, and a thin extension poking out beneath the elevated roadway running parallel to the medieval walls rather than constrained by the road. This may take a while, but in the meantime the Chapter House is open on a handful of weekends a year, including September for Open House, and this weekend as part of the Festival of British Archaeology.
As Ian says, the site is quite small so it's probably only worthy of a diversion if you're in the local area, or if you like this kind of thing, which obviously we do. In particular it'd be nice to think you could tear yourself away from your shop at Sainsbury's and take a peek under the road you just drove in along, to view an amazing survivor of some importance, because who'd ever have thought?
