I've got today off work. It seemed like a good idea before I saw the weather forecast. Sneak out into the real world before the schools break up. And use the special "very cheap days out from London" Oyster offer before it runs out on Sunday. Today's weather forecast suggests I may not have chosen my day wisely, but if I choose my destination wisely I may only get a bit damp rather than drenched.
I also thought it was about time I did another one of my blogging Mystery Tours. Those trips where I go somewhere without telling you where it is, and then send you clues from my mobile so you can try and guess where I am. I usually do those on Saturdays, so I thought a weekday excursion might stir a bit more audience reaction. Simple, I just send an email from my mobile to Blogger, and it appears magically on the blog. I've had the capability since 2005, and I don't make nearly enough use of it.
Except my mobile isn't playing ball. It sent emails perfectly six months ago, and I haven't changed any of the internal settings, but today it refuses. 'Server not found', it says, despite the fact I'm pretty certain the server exists. If I try tweaking the settings, using some different combination of what I think my email details are, I can get a completely different error message. But I can't connect successfully, and I can't send a message out. Which is rubbish.
I don't understand why sending an email from a mobile is so complicated. There always seem to so many bits of information to get right - usernames and server names and passwords and the like - then absolutely no clues as to which bit it might be that's stopping the service from working. It's like the mobile company don't want me to spend any money sending things, they just want to trap my messages in an outbox and leave me incommunicado.
There again, I'm still using a mobile phone that's more than three years old. You remember 2007, life was simpler then. No big screen smartphones with multifunction interactive ability. No iPhones with plug and play email apps. No foolproof communications that today's mobiles take for granted. I may be spending less than £100 a year for pay-as-you-go simplicity, but I'm paying the price for lack of functionality.
So I'm still going to go on my cut-price out-of-London trip today, but I'm not going to be able to blog any updates from along the way. That's a proper mystery tour for you. What I'll probably do is send some clues via Twitter instead, except that 140 characters is so much less interesting than 140 words, for which I apologise. I should warn you that my mobile can't read anything on Twitter, it can only send, so there's no chance of an interesting two-way conversation building up. And because my phone is from the Dark Ages, I'll have to wait until I get home before I can read any of the guesses you've written in the comments box.
Maybe after three years it's finally time to upgrade my phone again. I've only had four mobiles since 1998, each cutting edge at the time but oh so rapidly overtaken by technological advances. Maybe when I get to wherever I'm going today, I should head to the shopping centre and investigate a little further. But do I really want to spend a small fortune on some modern device (and its annual contract) merely so that I can send cryptic clues from Margate or Coventry or Milton Keynes or Winchester or wherever? I think maybe I'll resist total interactivity in my pocket for a little longer.
Last time I checked, in March last year, your council probably wasn't. And now it probably is. A total of twenty London boroughs have taken the plunge and are attempting to interact online with their residents, with varying degrees of success. Some are merely promoting council services, consultations or events. Some tediously regurgitate press releases and chop them off after the first 140 characters. Most only broadcast, while others sometimes respond. And a few are occasionally interesting, or useful, or even both. Here's a clickable summary of how those 20 councils are doing, along with a recent sample tweet.
» Barnet[892 followers, 528 updates] (first tweet May 2008) http://twitpic.com/26tz78 - Council Leader Lynne Hillan and Police Borough Commander Neil Basu look at plans for the refurb of Friary House. » Brent[901 followers, 497 updates] (first tweet March 2009) Electric slide rehearsal http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HT7TZvTFFqs #brentdancerecord #electricslide » Bromley[216 followers, 59 updates] (first tweet Sept 2009) Safer teenage drivers http://www.bromley.gov.uk/News/newsarchive2010/Jul2010/safer_teenage_drivers.htm » Camden[1243 followers, 1267 updates] (first tweet Feb 2009) Hindsites - cultural walks in Camden http://bit.ly/9cPNPN » Enfield[199 followers, 147 updates] (first tweet Sep 2009) NEWS: Enfield opens for business as new centre hits town: Enfield’s first Tourist Information Centre made it... http://tinyurl.com/36ywye9 » Greenwich[742 followers, 659 updates] (first tweet July 2009) The Big Screen in Woolwich will show Cool Runnings on Sat 24 July @ 5pm to mark the 2 year countdown to London 2012 http://tiny.cc/9ur8e » Hillingdon[1186 followers, 756 updates] (first tweet June 2008) Our crematorium manager scooped Lifetime Service award at national Council Worker of the Year Awards last night. http://tinyurl.com/36nlg6h » Hammersmith & Fulham[611 followers, 186 updates] (first tweet May 2009) Burst water main on Uxbridge Road - allow extra time for your journeys today. http://bit.ly/aWjzQO » Islington[231 followers, 140 updates] (first tweet Feb 2010) Vote now for Islington's Market Trader of the Year 2010 http://bit.ly/8Y8nkA » Kensington & Chelsea[203 followers, 252 updates] (first tweet Dec 2009) Congestion Charge consultation – reminder to make your views on the western extension known by 2 August 2010 http://bit.ly/cmc7DX » Lambeth[2428 followers, 403 updates] (first tweet March 2009) #lambethcoop we have posted some new discussion topics on our Facebook group, please share you views at http://bit.ly/autxTG » Lewisham[1768 followers, 775 updates] (first tweet Oct 2008) Free composting workshop this Wednesday at Devonshire Road Nature Reserve. Call 020 8314 2145 to book. » Merton: [180 followers, 152 updates] (first tweet Aug 2009) @philpurkiss Sorry about your recycling box. For another please contact our waste helpline on 020 8274 4902. Thank you for recycling. » Redbridge[686 followers, 112 updates] (first tweet Feb 2009) #Redbridgei New dog control orders and parks byelaws come into force http://ow.ly/28cdr #Redbridge » Richmond[156 followers, 312 updates] (first tweet Nov 2009) NEWS: New sensory garden opens at Norman Jackson Children's Service: A groundbreaking sensory garden will be unvei... http://bit.ly/au0hGB » Southwark[1364 followers, 326 updates] (first tweet Dec 2008) PRESS Southwark Council publishes online fire risk register: Residents in Southwark now have access to an online r... http://bit.ly/db5URd » Sutton[672 followers, 321 updates] (first tweet Mar 2009) Government makes Sutton 1 of 4 'Big Society Communities' 19.07.10: Today the government has announced that the Lon... http://bit.ly/9XES5Q » Tower Hamlets[341 followers, 95 updates] (first tweet Mar 2010) Next Thursday 9pm you can see our Chief Exec, Kevan Collins, on the Channel 4 show Under Cover Boss: http://bit.ly/UnderCoverBoss » Wandsworth[1160 followers, 480 updates] (first tweet Dec 2008) Safer cycling mirror: London’s first on-street cycle safety mirror has been installed at the junction of Mitcham R... http://bit.ly/9Vri0K » Westminster[1032 followers, 76 updates] (first tweet Apr 2009) Westminster City Council ticks off Madonna over noisy party at her Marylebone home. http://bit.ly/9pbqok
Most prolific council:Camden Longest tweeting council:Barnet Council with most followers:Lambeth Most tedious Twitterfeeds:Bromley, Enfield Appear to have given up on tweeting:Haringey, Harrow Twitterfeed most obviously written by a human being:Greenwich
I still buy a newspaper every morning. I've been doing it since the 1980s, and I haven't stopped yet. I also read my newspaper's website every day. I've been doing that since the 1990s, and I haven't stopped yet.
I still buy a newspaper every morning. I like to read a daily digest of what's going on in the world. I like the mix of articles, from headline political news to obscure quirky features. I like the idea that somebody independent has sifted through the day's events and decided what I do and don't need to know. I know that news happens all the time, not just once a day, but I value my daily snapshot. I also read my newspaper's website every day. I like to read about things that have only just happened, rather than having to wait until tomorrow. I like the chance to drill down into areas of interest, and not to have to waste time on topics that bore me. I know I'm only skimming the river of news when I read online, but I value the immediacy.
I still buy a newspaper every morning. I value the linearity. I like to start at the front and work through to the end. I may not want to read everything on the way, and I may skip over a lot, but equally I know I won't miss out on something unexpected. I also read my newspaper's website every day. I scan the front page for interesting additions, then read only the latest articles that interest me. I read more narrowly than in print, rarely dipping outside my comfort zone.
I still buy a newspaper every morning. I buy one from the kiosk outside the tube station. I give the owner my small change and I help to keep him in business. And he gives some of my small change to the publishers, and this helps to keep them in business. Because printed news costs, and I'm happy to pay. I also read my newspaper's website every day. I read it for free, and give absolutely nothing back. I never click on any of the adverts, and I'm not sure I'd subscribe to the paper if it ever disappeared behind a paywall. Because news on the web should always be free, shouldn't it?
I still buy a newspaper every morning. I like the physical nature of printed sheets. I like to be able to see a lot of news all at the same time, rather than a thin column of one-story text. I appreciate double page spreads, and seeing photographs large, and being able to write on the crossword with a pencil. My newspaper doesn't lose coverage when the signal drops in a train tunnel, and the previous page is always there when I want to flick quickly back. If there's a particularly special day I can even keep the newspaper and store it somewhere, then read it again on some far distant day in the future to remember what life used to be like. I also read my newspaper's website every day. I may have to click through to read the individual stories, but I can focus on individual articles with ease. I can flick through picture galleries, I can read reader comments written by bigoted idiots, and I can even give instant feedback myself should I so wish. If there's a story I want to bring to someone else's attention, social media makes that easy. And if I want to find a story from six years ago, it's easily unearthed from the archive.
I still buy a newspaper every morning. I have to leave the house to buy it, and I'm fortunate there are still several paper-selling outlets within a few minutes walk. Sometimes I get home at the end of the day and I haven't managed to open it, but that's OK because I can read it later. Or just chuck it into the recycling because its moment has passed. I also read my newspaper's website every day. I can even read it in my dressing gown at the weekend if I can't be bothered to go out. Or from the other side of the world if I'm on holiday. Or from anywhere I liked if only I had a smartphone. News on demand, wherever, whenever. That's the future.
I still buy a newspaper every morning. I know how out-of-touch that makes me look in the eyes of the younger generation. They never will. "Pay for news, on paper? Get with the programme, Grandad." I also read my newspaper's website every day. I appreciate the all-day every-day convenience it brings. But I won't take the plunge and abandon print altogether, not until I have absolutely no choice.
I still buy a newspaper every morning. I fear I'm an endangered species.
London's first two Cycle Superhighways open today. There'll eventually be twelve, but for now there's only CS3 from Barking to the Tower and CS7 from Merton to the City. Millions have been spent rejigging junctions and laying down lane markings in a particularly penetrating shade of light blue. Will they transform cycling in the capital and make bike-commuting a genuine pleasure? Or will they lure novice cyclists out of their comfort zone and under the wheels of some passing vehicle? I followed one of them (on foot) to try to find out.
CS3: Tower Gateway - Barking
Royal Mint Street: Unlike busy CS7, Cycle Superhighway number 3 follows quiet backroads for the majority of its length. It all kicks off behind the Royal Mint, on the gyratory system close to Tower Gateway station. If you can reach this point from work without being run over, then a smooth commute home should await. It's definitely a smooth start, with dedicated blue lanes for cyclists between the pavement and the street.
Cable Street: The super Superhighway continues. You couldn't really ask for much more, with twin blue lanes firmly segregated from the narrow roadway alongside. Much of Cable Street is one way, for four-wheeled traffic at least, whereas cyclists can nip along in both directions to their heart's content [photo]. And there's two full kilometres of this to enjoy, whisking riders all the way out to Limehouse with barely a care in the world. Now you might see this as a victory for the Cycle Superhighway, except it turns out that almost all of this cycleway existed before and has been available for years. Even the bizarre switchback by Stepney Causeway, which I was all ready to slag off as a ludicrous route which no sane cyclist would ever follow, turns out to be a hangover from the pre-CS era [photo]. There have been a few 2010 tweaks along Cable Street, however. The lanes used to be green rather than bright blue, for example, and now extend across most road junctions rather than briefly terminating. There's also a new electronic sign near Shadwell station which lights up saying "Think Bike" if you're driving too fast (although I noticed that approaching bikes also set it off, which seemed a bit unnecessary). But most of the perfection here is old school, not Boris-induced.
Limehouse: CS3's first busy road crossing is negotiated via a newly-installed toucan crossing, then it's up and over the Rotherhithe Tunnel exit ramp (with a slightly-too steep angle of ascent for any weary cyclist biking westward). In Horseferry Road the Superhighway brings a true bonus - a new cyclepath against the grain of the one-way flow, cutting at least a minute off any inbound commute. And then we're in Narrow Street, where the slapping down of bright blue road markings has proved controversial. The street's not been thought suitable for separate cycle lanes, probably because there are too many parking bays, so an alternative means of marking has been used. Big rectangular blue transfers have been ironed onto the road, each labelled with a picture of a bike and the designation "CS3". They're not pretty, especially when they appear to have been slapped down at irregular (and too frequent) intervals, so local residents aren't best pleased. Whilst they do their job of reminding drivers to watch out for cyclists on this quiet backstreet, one could easily argue they're an intrusive form of visual pollution which permanently scars this conservation area. [photo]
Westferry: Every now and then, the Superhighway planners have stuck in an impractical blue-lane slalom purely to meet health and safety requirements. So it is on a quiet street outside Westferry DLR station, where eastbound cyclists are expected to zigzag up onto the pavement and then make an immediate right turn around a lamppost. Westbound riders have it worse, invited to veer off the pavement, pass between two traffic bollards, then turn instantly right along the edge of a bus lane for five metres, then left back up onto the kerb. I'm sorry, but surely no practical cyclist is ever going to do this. They're going to cut diagonally across the corner following the line of least resistance, ignoring the blue lanes completely, however briefly 'risky' that might be. [photo]
Poplar High Street: Here, as in Narrow Street, the presence of the Superhighway is marked by big blue rectangles scattered irregularly along the roadway. This shouldn't be a problem for cyclists - the traffic here is invariably light - but it means there's a full mile without the security of a dedicated blue lane. Well almost. Occasionally the lane-painters have sneaked in a ten metre blue strip between parking bays, but never ever long enough to be worth diverting into. And there's another jobsworth-style up-on-the-pavement diversion, merely to avoid a traffic-calmed pinchpoint, which only the most risk averse cyclist would ever use. [photo]
East India: Out past Docklands already, avoiding all Blackwall Tunnel congestion by following narrow Naval Row. And then the Cycle Superhighway goes very wrong. The estate round Tower Hamlets Council HQ must be private, because they've refused to allow blue lanes to carve across the lakeside piazza. Instead a few tiny blue squares have been laid down to indicate the route, sort of, should anybody notice them [photo]. Along Saffron Avenue the entire Superhighway is blocked by a security barrier(!) which a guard has to raise for you (unless you nip up naughtily onto the pavement) [photo]. The impractical lane markings at the junction of Coriander Avenue and Sorrel Lane must be the product of a delusional mind. And nobody's yet bothered to paint anything along/across the busy Leamouth dual carriageway, so here's where I'd expect pioneering cyclists to get incredibly lost this morning. Really, this whole stretch is poor, as if bicycles are still a mere afterthought rather than any sort of priority.
Canning Town: In contrast, the twin lane blue highway along the East India Dock Road bridge is lovely [photo]. Again it's nothing new, just the original cycle lane painted blue, but if the entire Superhighway were like this then far more people might use it. Unfortunately not. At the Canning Town flyover cyclists are expected to dismount and cross one... two... three... four separate light-controlled crossings, rather than risk a spin round the roundabout. No thanks.
That's as far as I walked, because I couldn't face trudging the same distance again all the way out to Barking. It might have been different on a bike, of course. But the I'm afraid this hotchpotch of a route wouldn't tempt me onto two wheels even if I lived nearby. Certain lengthy stretches are reassuringly safe, but they're linked by non-segregated streets and awkward risky junctions. Cycle Superhighways may be better than nothing, but I fear they're super only in name.
East London's not averse to an arts festival or two. The LIFT Festival has been beaming out of a temporary hub in Canning Town for the past few weeks, bringing a series of creative events to a part of the capital that doesn't normally get many. Last night a quirky charade played out on the housing estates of E16, as seven technologically-modified ice cream vans drove round the area playing specially-synchronised tunes. Because artists are wacky like that. And you missed it.
Music for Seven Ice Cream Vans is the brainchild of composer Dan Jones, who wanted to create a wandering aural symphony which would evoke warm summery feelings in those who inadvertently heard it. He took seven very ordinary ice cream vans and kitted them out with synchronised GPS technology, then linked them together so that he could control which one played what when. They don't play Greensleeves, they play Dan's own composition - a rather more soothing melody all told. Mf7ICV was originally devised as part of this year's Norfolk and Norwich Festival, and trundled off round Norwich's inner suburbs at the end of May. It got a lot of press, including this feature on Radio 4's PM (complete with 2½ minute audio snippet) and this Look East report. They may not be Britain's first City of Culture, but there's always been a thriving arts tradition up Norwich way.
Eight o'clock in Canning Town Recreation Ground, and there was absolutely no evidence that any local resident was aware of what was about to happen. Kids were playing merrily on the swings (or beating each other up, depending). A few tired dogs were being taken for a walk, and the bench by the shrubbery was occupied by folk downing copious amounts of cheap alcohol. Right on cue, as the tinkling of the vans grew ever closer, a masked youth revved his enormous motorbike straight across the middle of the grass before disappearing off into the surrounding streets. So far, so normal.
The vans processed slowly around the perimeter of the park before spacing out and parking up and letting rip. The composition grew steadily, first with only a few brief musical phrases playing out, then gradually lengthening and layering until all seven vans were playing together. The overall effect was charming, if not overwhelming, with chimes echoing gently around the recreation ground for a full twenty minutes.
And yet many of the locals who'd been in the park seemed not to notice. The youngest continued playing, various teenagers carried on bickering and the lager drinkers didn't stir from their seat. Not even when the vans started issuing free ice cream did the majority of children attempt to obtain one. Maybe they thought they'd have to pay, or perhaps they'd never seen an ice cream van before and didn't associate their presence with the distribution of swirly cornets. It's very rash to assume that East London estate dwellers might have the same childhood memories as you. But I had no such qualms and wolfed down my free 99 with glee.
Standing in the centre of the recreation ground were a group of middle class adults paying rather more attention. A tiny handful of had read about the event elsewhere and made a special Saturday evening visit to Canning Town. But most appeared to be the organisers, the LIFT people, and associated media-type hangers on. They smiled, they listened, and they captured the sounds on iPhones and other audio-visual devices. How wonderful to be bringing an arts event of such calibre to the people of Canning Town. It's just a pity that so few of the genuine target audience noticed.
Eventually the vans revved up for one final circuit before heading off into the surrounding estate. They were due to tour three specially-zoned areas over the following hour, bringing brief musical delight to those living along the randomly selected streets. I doubt that many of those Canning Townspeople realised they were listening to a piece of art either. But back in the park one local lady rushed up to the bunch of organisers before leaving and announced that the evening had been "absolutely amazing!" It's inspiring like that, is art. Even when it's seven ice cream vans playing a mobile melodic symphony.
Music For Seven Ice Cream Vans is being performed one more time this afternoon in Rainham. Yes, Rainham. I only hope that the publicity in Rainham is better than it was in Canning Town so that a decent sized audience turns up and enjoys their brief spell in the artistic spotlight. Alas, I doubt there'll be hundreds and thousands here either.
Last time I checked, in March last year, your council probably wasn't. And now it probably is. A total of twenty London boroughs have taken the plunge and are attempting to interact online with their residents, with varying degrees of success. Some are merely promoting council services, consultations or events. Some tediously regurgitate press releases and chop them off after the first 140 characters. Most only broadcast, while others sometimes respond. And a few are occasionally interesting, or useful, or even both. Here's a clickable summary of how those 20 councils are doing, along with a recent sample tweet.
Cable Street: The super Superhighway continues. You couldn't really ask for much more, with twin blue lanes firmly segregated from the narrow roadway alongside. Much of Cable Street is one way, for four-wheeled traffic at least, whereas cyclists can nip along in both directions to their heart's content [photo]. And there's two full kilometres of this to enjoy, whisking riders all the way out to Limehouse with barely a care in the world. Now you might see this as a victory for the Cycle Superhighway, except it turns out that almost all of this cycleway existed before and has been available for years. Even the bizarre switchback by Stepney Causeway, which I was all ready to slag off as a ludicrous route which no sane cyclist would ever follow, turns out to be a hangover from the pre-CS era [photo]. There have been a few 2010 tweaks along Cable Street, however. The lanes used to be green rather than bright blue, for example, and now extend across most road junctions rather than briefly terminating. There's also a new electronic sign near Shadwell station which lights up saying "Think Bike" if you're driving too fast (although I noticed that approaching bikes also set it off, which seemed a bit unnecessary). But most of the perfection here is old school, not Boris-induced.
Poplar High Street: Here, as in Narrow Street, the presence of the Superhighway is marked by big blue rectangles scattered irregularly along the roadway. This shouldn't be a problem for cyclists - the traffic here is invariably light - but it means there's a full mile without the security of a dedicated blue lane. Well almost. Occasionally the lane-painters have sneaked in a ten metre blue strip between parking bays, but never ever long enough to be worth diverting into. And there's another jobsworth-style up-on-the-pavement diversion, merely to avoid a traffic-calmed pinchpoint, which only the most risk averse cyclist would ever use. [photo]
Music for Seven Ice Cream Vans is the brainchild of composer Dan Jones, who wanted to create a wandering aural symphony which would evoke warm summery feelings in those who inadvertently heard it. He took seven very ordinary ice cream vans and kitted them out with synchronised GPS technology, then linked them together so that he could control which one played what when. They don't play Greensleeves, they play Dan's own composition - a rather more soothing melody all told. Mf7ICV was originally devised as part of this year's Norfolk and Norwich Festival, and trundled off round Norwich's inner suburbs at the end of May. It got a lot of press, including this feature on Radio 4's PM (complete with 2½ minute audio snippet) and this Look East report. They may not be Britain's first City of Culture, but there's always been a thriving arts tradition up Norwich way.
