Lucky old Greenwich. By being at the heart of global astronomy back in the mid 19th century, a committee of scientists selected it to be the most important place on earth (longitudinally speaking). All eastward and westward measurements around the planet start from here, along a line through the middle of a telescope set up in the famous Observatory in 1851. This is otherwise a very ordinary line, its location completely arbitrary and artificial. But, if you know where to look, the meridian has been marked across the face of London in several different locations. There are plaques and monuments, and sundials and statues, and even hedgerows and footpaths that precisely follow the dividing line between the western and eastern hemispheres. I've told you all about them before. Three years ago I took you on a week-long journey up the zero degree line of latitude from Greenwich to the M25, stopping off at all the places where the PrimeMeridian has been marked in some way. But I didn't have a Flickr account at the time, so I couldn't show you as many photographs as I'd have liked. Today I'm making up for that earlier omission by presenting 50 assorted photographs for your perusal and pleasure. They're all of deliberate "Meridian markers", and not of random places and objects that just happen to lie on the 0° line.
So please enjoy today's special pictorial tribute feature - Marking The Meridian.
See also:
• Marking the meridian - my blog from three years ago, with oodles of meaty detail
• Greenwich Meridian Trail - take a walk along the meridian through Greenwich and Greenwich Park (with a nice map to print out)
• On The Line - An Oxfam website comparing and contrasting the eight countries found along the meridian
• The Greenwich Meridian laser(sorry, that's the one photo I didn't get)
Downham xvii) There are lovelier parts of London than the sprawling estates of Downham, but the Greenwich Meridian sensibly attempts to pass through via the remains of an ancient forest. A zigzag strip of footpathed woodland remains, somehow, which the meridian line duly crosses three times. The first crossing is outside a row of squashed cottages, the second close to a lonely bench and dog waste bin [photo], while the third is a little more secluded [photo]. Along this narrow leafy corridor, part of the long distance Green Chain Walk, I stood and watched two parakeets squawking shamelessly in the upper branches of a zero-located oak. xviii) At the foot of Bromley Hill, close to yet another roadside pub converted into a McDonalds, there's a rather ordinary parade of shops [photo]. Off licence, pizzeria, minimarket, that sort of thing. But just beyond the Tandoori restaurant, outside the Cleartone Dry Cleaners, is one of the southern meridian's rare pavement markers [photo]. It's a labelled rectangular stone with a precisely aligned groove pointing directly towards the front door of this esteemed laundry establishment, now under new management. So new in fact that when I arrived the owner was on his hands and knees in front of the shop painting the woodwork in alarmingly bright shades of pink and purple. "Don't mind me," I said, "I'm only taking a photo of that slab". So he carried on painting, and I got my close-up photographs [photo], and his shop gets an unexpected plug on this blog today. xix) If you've ever wondered where Millwall FC have their training ground [photo], it's nowhere as inner-city as the Den. Instead the Lions head several miles south to a very green playing field in the Ravensbourne Valley and practise kicking footballs across the meridian.
Bromley xx) Don't get your hopes up. The Meridian's not going anywhere well known like Bromley town centre. Instead it slinks through the western outskirts, almost edging into Beckenham, to various places you've never been. Like the Warren Avenue Playing Fields. This is a kickabout space for local sportsmen not good enough to play for Millwall, with a very ordinary square sports pavilion positioned almost perfectly on the Greenwich Meridian [photo]. There's also a desperately unloved children's playground consisting of little more than an ex-roundabout and three decaying swings [photo]. The latter, if given a lick of paint and shifted a couple of metres to the east, would make for a fine (and extremely cheap) meridian sculpture. But no need, because there's a real one coming up almost immediately to the south. xxi) On Farnaby Road, at the precise point where the gardens make way for a golf course, a stumpy metal post lurks beside an overgrown fence. It was put there by the Ravensbourne Valley Preservation Society to mark both the millennium and the meridian, and still presents two mirrored faces to west and east [photo]. Few pedestrian visitors pass this way and the neighbouring bus stop offers only a token service six days a week. Be in no doubt, most local residents cross the meridian by car. xxii)Ravensbourne Avenue is quintessential stockbroker country. A mile of detached homesteads alongside a golf course, stretching from one commuter-friendly railway halt to another. Ideal for bonus-blessed workers, ladies with golden glows and the recently retired. The street's not right at the top end of the affluence scale, as you can tell by the minimal gaps between neighbouring villas and the relatively narrow front gardens. But the gardens are prim, and the hedges are perfectly clipped, and the curtains of the spare bedrooms twitched invisibly as I walked by. Living on the meridian adds no value to the cluster of white-fronted villas in the centre of the road [photo], but I bet the local estate agents could talk it up as a desirable interior feature.
See also: • Marking the meridian (N) - my blog from five years ago, crossing London north from Greenwich (and 50 photos) • Marking the meridian (S) - my blog from this week, crossing London south from Greenwich (on one page, in the right order) • I know that what you really want is an accurate map showing the path of the Greenwich Meridian across England. So here's one(zoom in for London) • And what of meridian markers across the rest of England? View a lineful in my special gallery here.
Greenwich Observatory (south) i) The meridian exits the rear of the Meridian Building virtually unnoticed, its path marked only by an astrolabe (or, more precisely, an armillary sphere) on a plinth in a flowerbed [photo]. ii) From the hilltop, it's straight down the sloping lawn of the Old Royal Observatory Garden. Even if you think you know Greenwich you may never have been here, gated and secluded behind stepped terraces and trees. Access is from a twisting path that kicks off below the front of the Observatory, and the Greenwich Phantom has the full lowdown.
Greenwich Park iii) A narrow line of Meridian-marking granite slabs crosses The Avenue - the inclined roadway running from the bottom of the Park to the top. [photo] iv) Mind that horse! The proposed route of the Olympic Cross Country course wiggles twice across the zero degree line (and another twice to the north of the Observatory too). It's just as well that the 2012 course won't be following the meridian precisely, else there'd be a big tree needing major surgery, and groundsmen would also need to clip the edge of an overgrown old reservoir. Olympic bosses continue to reassure us that the historic Park will be be perfectly well protected from the trampling hooves of global equestrians and, moreimportantly, perfectly safe from the massed paranoia of certain local neigh-sayers. v) These could be renamed the Meridian Tennis Courts. vi) The semicircular Rose Garden is an elegant and peaceful part of Greenwich Park [photo], in bloom even in October! If you fancy a nice sit down, some of the benches around the hedged perimeter are in the western hemisphere, and some are in the east. vii) Next up, the Ranger's House once used to be home to the Greenwich Park ranger [photo]. More surprisingly, in 1815 that park ranger was Princess Sophia Matilda, the niece of George III. Today English Heritage run the place, and use the house to display a diamond magnate's decorative arts collection. Unfortunately it's shut for the winter to casual visitors at the end of September, and so I arrived a week to late to look inside. The Greenwich Meridian passes through the dining room, the Crimson Parlour and the Gallery, and is marked by a metal plaque on the outside of the southern garden wall [photo]. » Various large enamelled maps around Greenwich Park purport to show the location of the meridian. Be warned that these aren't terribly accurate, and show (for example) the line passing through the putting green and the wrong bit of the Observatory. Too expensive to replace, presumably, although I'm pleased to see that the Royal Parks website includes an updated and rather more precise version.
Blackheath viii) Ah, the vast grassy plateau of Blackheath, across which the meridian spans the boroughs of both Greenwich and Lewisham. If you mind the footballs, kits and peace campers, it's possible to walk along the invisible line almost completely unobstructed (apart from a rather awkward crossing of the busy A2 near the BlackheathTeaHut). On the southern edge a slightly-toppled litter bin (on the corner of Hare & Billet Road and Mounts Pond Road) really ought to be an official meridian marker, but sadly isn't [photo]. ix) Onward through the verdant detached gardens of The Orchard and the big villas on Eliot Vale. (Blimey, isn't undulating Heath Vale lovely?) Then across the Lewisham-Kidbrooke railway line, and through the heart of the Sacred Heart Convent on Belmont Hill.
Lee x) On Lee High Road, near the bus stop at the junction with Halley Gardens [photo], is the southern meridian's first pavement plaque [photo]. I had to negotiate a passing couple with a snappy staffie, but once they'd gone I paused by the roadside to take a proper look. This groovy flat stone was laid by the local Mayor in 1984, and apparently commemorates both the meridian's centenary and Lewisham's Anti Racist Week [photo]. The significance of this combination completely escaped me, but maybe there was a special 2-for-1 offer on chiselled slabs at the time. Whatever the reason, the complete ordinariness of this inner suburban street highlights the quintessentially random passage of Greenwich's longitudinal legacy.
Marking the meridian: The Royal Greenwich ObservatoryOur prime meridian goes through Greenwich thanks to a 17th century astronomer's telescope. John Flamsteed was the first Astronomer Royal and made all his observations from a hilltop shed in the grounds of the newly established Royal Greenwich Observatory. An imaginary line drawn from north to south through this telescope became the marker from which celestial measurements of longitude were taken. But Flamsteed's was the only the first of four Greenwich meridians, each defined by a different successive telescope, and each now marked by a silver plaque on the observatory wall.
Meridian 1: based on John Flamsteed's telescope, 1685
Meridian 2: based on Edmund Halley's telescope, 1725 (185cm east of Flamsteed's meridian) Established when Flamsteed's original telescope began to subside into the ground.
Meridian 3: based on James Bradley's telescope, 1750 (11m east of Halley's meridian). Still used by the Ordnance Survey for map-making purposes.
Meridian 4: based on George Airy's telescope, 1851 (5.79m east of Bradley's meridian). Selected as the Prime Meridian of the world exactly 125 years ago this week.
It's the last of these lines which draws thousands of tourists to the summit of Greenwich Park every year. Legs astride the meridian they scramble to take photos of one another in the front courtyard, one foot in the west and the other in the east. You've probably stood here yourself, although if you've not visited recently you may not yet be aware that the public face of the Observatory has had something of a presentational revamp. There's no longer direct admittance to the courtyard, so folk now have to venture inside through a turnstile in the main Equatorial Building. No charge, it's still free, but they've finally got rid of the ridiculous requirement to collect an unnecessary ticket on the way in. Turn left to visit the two-year-old Astronomy Centre and bold bronze conical planetarium[photo]. Both are excellent, but time instead requires us to turn right onto the "Meridian route".
The Observatory's rear courtyard has recently been remodelled, replacing a nondescript patch of grass with a flower border and raised path [photo]. Visitors aren't made aware that they're crossing the meridian here, presumably to avoid congestion, but a metal globe on a plinth marks the invisible line across the garden [photo]. Onward past a rather huge telescope to the information desk, where a beaming girl would quite like to flog you an audio guide for £3.50, then out into a landscaped Garden of Time [photo]. Ahead is Flamsteed House[photo], whose Wren-built Octagon Room would have been perfect for the first meridian telescope had not the building accidentally been aligned 13 degrees off true north. An excellent exhibition of time and timepieces is housed within, including John Harrison's longitude-beating nautical chronometers, although most foreign visitors whizz through here fairly fast. They're after that definitive photo astride the famous brass meridian line in the main courtyard [photo], or maybe an ice cream from the first trailer kiosk in the western hemisphere [photo].
And then visitors pass back inside, this time for a rapid chronological jog through Greenwich's zero degree telescopes. Flamsteed's first, then a room aligned for Halley, then the room in which James Bradley took his measurements. The final chamber is almost completely filled by Airy's Transit Circle, which points outward across the milling snappers in the courtyard towards the stars beyond. If the Greenwich meridian could have an epicentre this would be it, not that most of the passers by seem to recognise the instrument's true significance. A variety of Prime Meridian souvenirs are available nextdoor - perfect if you're ever short of a fridge magnet or two. And don't forget to take the detour up the stairs to the Time and Society Gallery (important, but underwhelming), because this leads on to the Onion Dome perched at the very top of the building. Housed inside is the largest refracting telescope in the UK, a pert 28-incher built in 1893, through which the public are still invited to take a look at least once a month. Had this monster have been in place a decade earlier, then the Greenwich Meridian would probably have passed through these giant crosshairs instead. But it's Airy's line of sight that's been immortalised here at Greenwich and, quite literally, all around the world.
n.b. With the advent of global positioning technology in the 1990s, a new virtual meridian has been introduced. It lies 102½ metresfurther east than the official Greenwich meridian and is the line used for all air and sea navigation. That's why when you stand in the courtyard at Greenwich wielding a handheld GPS device it doesn't show a longitude of precisely 0°0'0".
Hither Green xi) The meridian clips the bottom right corner of Manor Park, a recently revamped Lewisham greenspace, although nobody thought to spend any of the council's money to mark its passage. Instead there's a rather nice twizzly wind-blown sculpture further up the park, and a few wildflower meadows bordered by a narrow wetland zone. Across the precisely-zero line flows one of London's lesser known rivers - the Quaggy - at the very point where it slips from pleasant parkland shallows to ugly concrete channel [photo]. I promise to come back and follow the Quaggy another time, but for now it's due south to a direct hit. xii) Only a handful of railway stations lie precisely on the meridian, and HitherGreen is the only one south of the Thames. Even better, you don't have to enter the station to see its meridian marker. A pedestrian subway leads beneath the tracks [photo], linking the shopping parade in Staplehurst Road to a bleak plaza on the opposite side of the tracks. Midway through, almost precisely where a ramp leads upward to the ticket office, a silver arch crosses the darkened roof of the tunnel [photo]. A red strip up and over the centre divides the western hemisphere from the east [photo]. Top marks to whoever thought up this idea, which beats the usual council-friendly scrawled mural depicting worthy services from the local community. Step beneath in awe and wonder, and let's be on our way. xiii) Lewisham Council have had another go at marking the meridian outside a new residential development on the corner of Hither Green Lane and Woodlands Street. They teamed up with Barratt Homes, whose dead-ordinary living-boxes are piled up alongside, and installed a line of eight metal plaques across a paved piazza beside a car repair shop [photo]. Each plaque depicted an English town or location straddling the meridian, some more local than others, which was a rather charming way of twinning the area with Sussex, East Yorks and points inbetween. That was in April 2007, but unfortunately the developer's optimism has proved unplaced. A bunch of metal squares lightly bolted to the ground, in southeast London - what were they thinking? All but one have been duly nicked, presumably for scrap, leaving only the plaque for "Peacehaven" intact on the pavement. Maybe just as well, because it's only taken 2½ years for the graphic etched on the Peacehaven plaque to become almost completely illegible [photo]. If that's Barratt quality, one can only fear for residents of the adjacent flats.
Catford xiv) Beyond the South Circular, at the heart of the Corbett Estate, the local parish church lies directly on the zero degree line [photo]. This Edwardian pile ought perhaps to be called St Andrew's-on-the-Meridian, but alas not. It has (reputedly) the widest Gothic nave in Britain, a whopping forty feet across, plus a newly restored organ. I didn't get to peek inside, however, because The Free Pentecostal Apostolic Church of the Lord Jesus Christ were in full flow within. xv) It's not quite perfectly aligned, but Torridon Road SE6 is London's most meridian-y street. It heads almost precisely due south for a full kilometre, with the zero degree line running through every single one the residential terraces on the eastern side of the street [photo]. Gardens at the top of the road, then back rooms further down, then front rooms, then front gardens - an unseen link between a complete row of neighbours. We should, perhaps send some of the Greenwich Observatory's thousands of tourists to stand instead on the traffic island outside the post office [photo], or to take photos of Torridon's 0° mini-roundabout [photo]. xvi) And then, oh blimey, I really wasn't expecting this. I knew that Catford had an enclave of surviving post-war prefabs, but I wasn't expecting to turn a corner on my Meridian journey and stumble upon them [photo]. Altogether there are 189 low-rise temporary chalets here, each set in its own fenced off patch of land, and each lovingly cared for [photo]. A few fluttering Union Jacks here, a few gnomes there, and all around the feeling of being amongst a defiantly proud and tightly knit community. Residents christened this the Excalibur estate, and the byways are all named after lesser known knights of the Round Table. Meliot Road (named after Sir Meliot de Logris) runs closely parallel to the meridian, with the line passing through one particularly fine example of a half-timbered prefab [photo][photo]. Oh to discover that such a building even exists, let alone in such a significant location. In the 1950s a prefab-packed estate such as this might have been a common sight in many parts of South East England, but this Catford hideaway is a rare (and uncommonly large) survivor. Six chalets have recently been protected with Grade II listed status, but long-term residents won't be reassured until the council finally designate the whole of Excalibur an official conservation area. Long may this unique lifestyle continue, it's magic.
Three cheers for the London Borough of Waltham Forest, whose marking of the meridian is nothing short of superb. You can't see the meridian in Stratford but, once you cross the border into Leyton, it's everywhere. Back in the year 2000 the council decided to mark the millennium across their borough in a most original way. They ordered some menial operative to paint a big blue and yellow circle on the pavement of streets in Waltham Forest that crossed the meridian. And there are tons of them. As a result it's possible to walk all the way up the zero degree line to Walthamstow without the need for a map. So I gave it a try.
xxiv-xxx) I found my first meridian circle (pictured left) outside a house in Crownfield Road. I got my first funny look too as soon as I started taking photographs of the pavement. The next street north was Drapers Road and yes, another pavement, another circle, but then I spent five minutes wandering up and down Stewart Road looking in vain for a circle that turned out not to be there. Better luck in Downsell Road, except that the pavement had been re-tarmacked after the meridian householder had erected a new front wall so only a quarter of the original circle remained. Up and down these residential streets I went, locating a total of seven blue and yellow circles within one 500 metre corridor and no doubt alerting a number of Neighbourhood Watch schemes in the process.
xxxi) After Langthorne Road the meridian entered St Patrick's Roman Catholic Cemetery, the final resting place of Jack the Ripper's last victim. It passed through some nuns' graves (may the Sisters of Wanstead rest in peace), clipped the corner of the chapel and headed north through a sea of ornate marble monuments. A crowd of mourners had gathered beneath a tree for a burial dead on the meridian, so I beat a hasty retreat. On across the Central Line (just east of Leyton station), the new A12 relief road and the lounge bar of the Northcote Arms.
xxxii-xliv) More rows of houses followed, and more circles. I saw a woman having a screaming row sitting in the front seat of her car on the meridian, and a boy sitting on a front garden wall combing his afro on the meridian. On through Norlington Boys' School (cutting through cycle locker number 8 and the technology annexe) and precisely through the side entrance of Barclay Infant School. On through the top left corner of Whipps Cross hospital (where David Beckham was born) and through a parade of shops on the Lea Bridge Road (more accurately through the Roti Roti Restaurant, specialising in 'grilled and Karachi dishes'). All in all I saw more than 20 blue and yellow circles on the meridian before I got bored and went home.
xlv) ...but not before I'd visited the one pre-millennial meridian marker in Walthamstow. This grooved concrete slab (pictured above right) lies on the eastern side of Wood Street, just south of Wood Street station (one of those rare slap-bang-on-the-meridian stations). It was odd place to find such a marker, set into the pavement outside an obscure lock-up beside the 14th Walthamstow Scout Group HQ, but no more odd than my meridian pilgrimage had been I guess.
xi) After nearly a mile adrift in the Thames, the meridian comes ashore to clip the western edge of the North Greenwich peninsula. This is a grim industrial wasteland, still scarred with the remains of wharves and old factories. Even when the rest of the peninsula is reborn as a modern yuppie playground, this western sliver will be left unloved and underdeveloped. Except for the top bit.
The Dome xii) When Michael Heseltine was looking for somewhere to dump his great Millennium attraction, it was the meridian that swung his decision in favour of Greenwich. This was otherwise a rotten location, an inaccessible brownfield site heavily contaminated by what had been the largest gasworks in Europe. Still, it was better than Birmingham. The chequered history of the resulting Dome is well documented. However, the Dome wasn't actually built on the meridian itself, which passes one radius away on the western side. And here it is...
The Prime Meridian of the world, from which all time is measured, cuts the north-western edge of the Dome site. Marked with red light, it slips into the River Thames and emerges to cross the wildlife jetty. The area around the Line is raised and separated by a strip of water from the rest of Meridian Quarter. This is a space from which to look out beyond the Dome and Greenwich to other places touched by the Line and to the perspectives, experiences and cultures of the people of the world.
A large mirror on the Living Wall takes the Meridian Line southward into infinity. This is a photograph opportunity as we catch ourselves standing either side of the Line and across time zones. On the mirror is a map showing the eight countries which the Line crosses: the UK, France, Spain, Algeria, Mali, Burkina Faso, Togo and Ghana. Large granite disks on the ground either side of the Line are engraved with poems from each of the countries. (Official Guide to the Millennium Experience, 2000)
It doesn't feel quite so inspirational alongside the Dome today, four years after the Millennium. The Meridian Quarter has been barricaded behind a tall blue wire fence, the red light has long been turned off and the Living Wall is more of a dead pile of concrete blocks. The meridian line enters this deserted site through a grimy mirror (right of photo), then passes yellow Kodak photo point number 18 and a small pavillion full of old Dome exhibits. It's impossible to read any of the poems along the line from the perimeter footpath, not that you'd ever have been interested in the first place. There's no perspective, experience or culture here today, just a bleak, lonely and forsaken location. If any section of the meridian properly defines zero, this is it. (take a walk here)
xiii) The tall black totem pole you can see to the right of this photo is a Millennium Milepost, placed Dome-side on the Thames Path by Sustrans the transport charity. There are 1000 such mileposts on cycle routes across the country, each featuring a lettered metal disc which is a clue in a long-forgotten national treasure hunt. I could tell you what the letter is on this particular meridian-sited milepost but that might ruin the fun for all you cycle-clipped puzzlers out there. I can tell you that the sign has been placed two metres too far east.
xiv) Ordnance Jetty juts out into the Thames on the north-western side of the Dome, straddling the meridian. It's a T-shaped pier, once used for unloading ammunition but recently topped off with grass as a safe haven for plants and birdlife. A low metal gutter sticks out from the shoreline pointed towards two white posts on the jetty, along which that red light from the Dome's Meridian Quarter used to be channelled. No longer. The gutter now contains nothing but one uniquely positioned weed.
Marking the meridian (a week-long trek due south from Greenwich)
Shortlands / Park Langley xxiii) After crossing the Bromley South railway line just west of Shortlands station, the Greenwich Meridian gets proper suburban. Residential street after residential street, occasionally flats but more usually houses, and increasingly houses with more garden than house. I traipsed up and down hills, and wandered along winding avenues only to retrace my steps, all in an attempt to follow an invisible line through the neighbourhood. I kept hoping that some interesting feature might lie along the zero line of longitude but I was disappointed. Enid Blyton's house on Shortlands Road? Missed. The hilltop Celtic cross of the Shortlands War Memorial [photo]? Close, but not quite. Anything that wasn't a house, a road or a garden. Absolutely not. xxiv) I was briefly excited, strolling along Hayes Lane, to discover an entire London suburb I'd never heard of before. Park Langley doesn't have its own station, nor any terminating buses, and therefore risks non-existence in the eyes of anybody living more than a few miles away. This 100-year-old neighbourhood (southeast of Beckenham) dates from an age when "estate" meant "quality", and boasts a thousand or so detached properties laid out along gently curving streets. The meridian clips the first house on the southern side of Top Park, at the entrance to the Park Langley Conservation Area. Immaculate clusters of bright orange flowers surrounding each ornamental street tree, still blooming brightly even in October [photo], provided convincing evidence that local residents have both pride and considerable time on their hands. » And on, and on, crossing aspirational avenue after aspirational avenue, more of the same, very des res, highly unaffordable.
West Wickham / Coney Hall xxv) After traversing the West Wickham Sports Grounds, and crossing the final stretch of the railway line to Hayes, the Greenwich Meridian nudges the playing fields of Glebe School. Most secondary schools have a wooded hideaway right at the bottom of the playing field where the smokers usually hope to hide out, and that's the part we're talking about here. Staff and pupils have marked the meridian's passage with not one but two special markers - one a 7ft stone pillar, the other a squat dish-shaped compass a few metres away. Or so I'm told. It's impossible to see any more than a glimpse of either monument through the trees from the adjacent footpaths, so my attempted photograph is worse than useless [photo]. Don't worry, I took it on a Sunday when the school was deserted, and pupil privacy in Meridian Corner is assured. xxvi) You know the roundabout in ConeyHall where Glebe Way crosses Addington Road? The roundabout sponsored by Profascia Direct Ltd, purveyors of UPVC fascias, flat and tile roofing? The meridian crosses it. [photo] xxvii) One final within-London meridian marker can be found at the Coney Hall Recreation Ground. It's likely that you'll never ever visit this recreational plateau, not unless you have a penchant for obscure 1930s suburbs, or ever choose to walk section 4 of the London Loop long distance footpath. The zero-degree post resembles a sort of OS triangulation point, except made from considerably cheaper materials, and with a lumpy hemisphere protruding from the top [photo]. Two sides are inscribed with not very much writing, and the whole thing looks like a couple of hefty kicks from some local youth would cause it considerable damage. Thankfully, when I visited at least, local youth were much more interested in kicking a football around instead. Alas they were deliberately ignoring the nearby goalposts and had chosen to play up close to the meridian post, which made photographing it slightly awkward. But I sort of managed [photo]. And then rapidly made my exit.
New Addington xxviii) The last place the meridian hits before exiting the capital is the overspill estate of NewAddington. The very top of New Addington in fact, which is about as far from desirable as the borough of Croydon gets. The precise location is at the summit of King Henry's Drive, and then south through the grounds of Addington High School. I considered visiting for a final photo, but there was no convenient footpath from Coney Hall and the Sunday afternoon bus service was less than enticing. So I resisted. So you'll have to make do without a picture. I suspect that's no great loss.
And then, continuing south... Surrey: the M25, Oxted (passing through Paydens the chemist), Lingfield Park racecourse (almost). W SussexEast Grinstead (there are various stonemarkers at East Court, and the town's coat of arms features a vertical white line representing the meridian - also home to Meridian FM) E Sussex:SheffieldPark (on the Bluebell railway, plaque on station wall), Chailey (meridianstone erected 1953, see map), Lewes (another near-hit on a town centre), Peacehaven (theMeridianMonument looks out over the English Channel). France: (the French don't believe in our meridian, but it goes from Normandy to Lourdes anyway). Spain: from the Pyrenees south to (just outside) Benidorm, then into the Mediterranean. Africa:Algeria, the Sahara, Mali (straight through Gao on the the river Niger), Burkina Faso (through the northern town of Dori), Togo (just a tiny sliver in the northwest corner), Ghana (through Lake Volta, reaching the coast at Tema). The Atlantic Ocean:the Equator, more than 5000 miles of ocean. Antarctica: Queen Maud Land South Pole
Marking the meridian: The Royal Greenwich Observatory
Millions of tourists have stood precisely here, in the courtyard at the Royal Greenwich Observatory astride the famous brass meridian line. Cameras at the ready, left leg in the western hemisphere, right leg in the eastern hemisphere, click. The meridian passes directly through the observatory, and is precisely defined by the centre of the crosshairs of George Airy's 1851 transit telescope. Above the telescope on the outside of the building there's a clock counting the days since the Millennium, a silver plaque and a tiny hole out of which a green laser shines along the meridian after dark, visible for many miles to the north. The red line down the face of the building marks the precise longitude at which time begins. But it's not the original Greenwich Meridian.
Flamsteed House was built in 1675 on the highest ground within Greenwich Park, the perfect location for an observatory with unobstructed views of the sky over London. Unfortunately the windows of Christopher Wren's magnificent Octagon Room were found to be pointing slightly off the north-south axis, and so the first Royal Astronomer John Flamsteed made all his observations from a shed at the bottom of the garden instead. It was the telescope in this shed that established the first of four Greenwich meridians, each defined by a different telescope and each now marked by a silver plaque on the observatory wall.
Meridian 1: based on John Flamsteed's telescope, 1685 Meridian 2: based on Edmund Halley's telescope, 1725 (185cm east of Flamsteed's meridian) Established when Flamsteed's original telescope began to subside into the ground. Meridian 3: based on James Bradley's telescope, 1750 (11m east of Halley's meridian). Still used by the Ordnance Survey for map-making purposes. Meridian 4: based on George Airy's telescope, 1851 (5.79m east of Bradley's meridian). Selected as the Prime Meridian of the world exactly 120 years ago today.
With the advent of global positioning technology in the 1990s, a new virtual meridian has been introduced. It lies 102½ metresfurther east than the official Greenwich meridian and is the line used for all air and sea navigation. That's why when you stand in the courtyard at Greenwich wielding a handheld GPS device it doesn't show a longitude of precisely 0°0'0". However, for the last 120 years it's been Airy's Prime Meridian that is more properly recognised here at Greenwich and, quite literally, all around the world.
Having passed out of Tower Hamlets yesterday, today I'm continuing my walk along the Greenwich Meridian through Newham. Bear with me, we will eventually reach somewhere you actually recognise. [map][photos]
Greenway [51.532°N 0°W]
The Northern Outfall Sewer passes just north of Abbey Mills Pumping Station, above ground on a brick viaduct, with the Greenway permissive footpath running along the top. In 2004 a rather charming meridian marker was embedded in the tarmac, an analemmaticsundial. Stand in the right place, which varies month by month (for reasons previously explained), and your shadow will point towards the correct time. If the brass numerals around the edge look quirky that's because they were designed by children at Manor Primary School in collaboration with artist Kate Williams. Only if you wander over to read a small plaque on a nearby pillar is it mentioned that the noon line aligns perfectly with the Greenwich Meridian, and I wonder how many of those walking or cycling by have ever realised the full significance.
By coincidence this is also the point where Abbey Lane passes underneath the mighty sewer pipes. I'm reliably informed there's another meridian marker down here, a slab set in the ground, but although I've been back twice I cannot find it. I suspect it's either been removed or has been obscured by rampant vegetation... I need to come back in winter and check.
Rick Roberts Way [51.533°N 0°W]
This is a dull backroad, essentially a ratrun through a light industrial estate, and meridianly unmarked. I mention it partly because the building to the north (now vacant) is St Clements Press where The Guardian used to be printed when it was awkwardly shaped. Meanwhile across the road is the Mercedes Benz service centre which moved from the site ofthe Olympic Stadium, and whose car park now features several weary notices saying no, this is not the entrance to the Covid-19 test centre.
Channelsea Path [51.535°N 0°W]
The ChannelseaRiver once threaded north from Three Mills through almost-the-heart of Stratford, but wasn't compatible with a growing suburb so was covered over. Between the Greenway and Stratford High Street they turned it into a footpath, a meandering stripe of tarmac lined by bogstandard vegetation and with a minimal number of access points. Walking along it requires passing out of human sight for several minutes, and within shouting distance only of the back of the Jubilee line depot, so can be somewhat unnerving. The Greenwich Meridian deigns to cross at the northern end where a concrete block topped with insectlike art has been plonked in the middle of the path. The 'Channelsea Gateway' was created by the same team that installed the Greenway sundial, which makes me think its location is deliberate, but this time the accompanying plaque stays silent on the matter.
The meridian scores a direct hit on Buzz Bingo, formerly Gala Bingo, on Stratford High Street. Perhaps they could introduce a zero ball to celebrate the fact.
Stratford High Street [51.539°N 0°W]
Hurrah, an actual proper meridian marker set into the pavement. This one is located on the north side of the High Street on the bridge above the Jubilee line, specifically the southbound Jubilee line if you want to be really accurate. The slab's been slanted so that the line across the middle follows the correct alignment, and in the centre is Newham's appealingly spiky 1970s logo. Coincidentally this is a letter 'N' which adds reinforcement that the line points north, which indeed it duly does. I understand there are three such plaques across the borough, one in Abbey Lane (that I couldn't find), one here and another further north (that we'll get to tomorrow).
Meridian Square, Stratford [51.542°N 0°W]
Bullseye! An arbitrary line drawn due north from a telescope in Greenwich just happens to pass through one of London's most important transport interchanges. It lines up perfectly with the revamped pedestrian crossing at the southern end of the Stratford Bus Station. It grazes the passenger-free corner of the bus station behind the mess room and staff toilets. It crosses Great Eastern Road on the slant. It passes through newly-introduced Bus Stop P. It ducks beneath the shiny scales of The Shoal. It then runs pretty much perfectly along the row of doors at the entrance to the Stratford Centre (or possibly a few feet further back through Burger King and Subway). Purely by coincidence this shopping mall portal has become a dividing line between hemispheres... outside west, inside east.
But this is not what the nearest meridian marker says. Inexplicably a geographically incorrect line runs across the main piazza, bold as brass, on the wrong side of the supersized pedestrian crossing. Embedded alongside is a ribbed metal rectangle reading Meridian Line 0°0'0"E when in fact this is 0°0'2"W. If the meridian truly ran along this alignment it'd make sense of the piazza being called Meridian Square, as it has been since the millennium when Stratford station was upgraded. But Newham's planners appear to have made a lazy assumption, then compounded it in 2010 when the brass line was added as part of an upgrade to prepare for Westfield crowds. Thirty metres, it turns out, makes all the difference.
The meridian was previously marked by a twirly sculpture called Time Spiral, again in not quite the right place, but this was removed to Maryland ten years ago (and lost its clock faces to boot). The name 'Meridian Square' appears to have been lost more recently. It was officially used on the street signs at the entrance to the taxi drop-off serving Stratford station, but the remodelling of the bus station shifted taxis elsewhere so this particular loop of road has been sealed off. As of last month it lies behind a shield of whitewashed hoardings and will probably never see traffic again. If you'd like to complain about this action you have until Wednesday next week to apply to the High Court for a suspension order.
Bluntly, the marking of the meridian through Stratford is a mess. It is marked where it doesn't exist and it isn't marked where it does. There again, the modern GPS meridian actually runs through the 4-way atrium at the centre of the Stratford Centre, 100m to the east, so you could wonder why anyone is bothering at all.
The meridian passes through the 23-storey Unex Tower on its way into Meridian Square and through the 33-storey Legacy Tower on its way out, so I suspect that's the Greenwich Meridian laser scuppered.
• Today's 12 photos can be found here
• Tomorrow we continue from Stratford station
Greenwich Observatory i) A brass line stretches across the courtyard, marked with the names, latitudes and longitudes of various world cities. ii) There's a big silvery sculpture at the northern end of the brass line, consisting of a pole inclined at 23½ degrees to the vertical, an equatorial ring and two segmented sails (pictured above left). iii) A tall stone plaque (with a vertical black meridian line) is set into the wall immediately beneath the observatory courtyard. A short brass line continues across the higher of the two footpaths.
Greenwich Park iv) At the foot of Greenwich Park is a banana-shaped boating lake. The zero degree line cuts straight across the middle, making this your big chance to pedalo along the meridian. On the northern bank lies a raised circular platform supporting a big triangular sundial (shown in the photo above, at noon Greenwich Mean Time with the sun's shadow pointing due north). This is the Millennium Sundial and, like a certain other local millennial project I could mention, it's fatally flawed. The architect was given the wrong information and the sundial ended up being built 2 metres off the meridian, so it runs 8 minutes adrift. They should have built it dome-shaped.
Maritime Greenwich v) On the first road north of the park, a plaque built into the wall of The Chantry reads 'Prime Meridian, zero degrees longitude'. A downward-pointing arrow divides East from West. vi) North from the plaque there's a row of ten raised studs following the meridian across the road (pictured above right) before disappearing into the front room of number 2 Feathers Place. vii) Old Woolwich Road School lies bang on the line, and so has been renamed Meridian Primary. viii) The meridian crosses the grounds of Trinity Hospital, a retirement home for 21 local gentlemen and the oldest building in Greenwich. ix) The green meridian laser passes directly between the four tall brick chimneys of Greenwich Power Station. This coal-fired station was built by London County Council in 1906 to generate power for local trams. More recently it was used by London Underground as a peak-time back-up station, before finally being mothballed last year (just in time for a serious power cut). x) The meridian enters the Thames totally unmarked at Crowley's Wharf, a few metres west of the nasty modern development at Anchor Iron Wharf. Steps lead down to the beach (yes, the Thames has beaches) from which the meridian heads off north across the river, just missing the giant derelict coal jetty sticking out from the power station behind. Next stop, the Dome.
What are the chances of the meridian passing precisely through the summit of the tallest hill in northeast London? But it does.
This is the top of PoleHill, a wooded hillock in Norman Tebbitt's old stomping round of Chingford. It's quiet, it's gorgeous, and it's unique. This is the edge of London, the border with Essex lying less than half a mile away. This is where the green belt begins, the northern slopes rolling down to form the edge of EppingForest. And this is where the Greenwich Meridian passes, marked by not one but two stone pillars.
xlvi) The taller, western monument was built first. Unlike most of the other markers along the meridian it's not just ornamental but once served a real practical purpose. In the early 19th century the main telescope at Greenwich was James Bradley's transit telescope. This was used to observe the passage of stars across their highest point in the sky by timing them as they passed a fixed north line. Any transit telescope needs to be checked regularly to ensure that it really is pointing north and so a northern reference marker was required. It was an extremely fortunate coincidence that the Greenwich Meridian passed exactly through a hilltop 11 miles to the north - and that's why the Astronomer Royal of the day built an obelisk here on Pole Hill.
This pillar was erected in 1824 under the direction of the Reverend John Pond M.A. Astronomer Royal. It was placed on the Greenwich Meridian and its purpose was to indicate the direction of true North from the transit telescope of the Royal Observatory. The Greenwich Meridian, as changed in 1850 & adopted by international agreement in 1884 as the line of zero longitude, passes 19 feet to the East of this pillar.
xlvii) The shorter, eastern monument was built later when the Airy meridian was adopted at Greenwich. It's a stumpy concrete triangulation point, complete with Ordnance Survey benchmark (which is strange given that all OS maps are still constructed based on the Bradley meridian 6 metres to the west). Recently a few local yobs appear to have added some unnecessary streaks of red graffiti to this particular monument, but they're probably just aerosols.
Lawrence of Arabia adored this place so much that he purchased a plot of land on the hilltop and built himself a small timber hut and a tiny swimming pool. The hut no longer stands and I found no evidence of the pool, but there's still a great view from the top of Pole Hill. You can gaze down towards the City skyline, with the BT Tower and London Eye immediately recognisable in the distant Thames valley. Unfortunately the one place you can't see any more is Greenwich because the surrounding trees have grown up over the years and blocked the important line of sight from the great transit telescope. Maybe the view's better in the winter but I loved the place with leaves, long grass and and tiny spiders hanging from the trees. A place of true beauty on the meridian - what are the chances of that?
Marking the meridian
xviii) At the foot of Bromley Hill, close to yet another roadside pub converted into a McDonalds, there's a rather ordinary parade of shops [photo]. Off licence, pizzeria, minimarket, that sort of thing. But just beyond the Tandoori restaurant, outside the Cleartone Dry Cleaners, is one of the southern meridian's rare pavement markers [photo]. It's a labelled rectangular stone with a precisely aligned groove pointing directly towards the front door of this esteemed laundry establishment, now under new management. So new in fact that when I arrived the owner was on his hands and knees in front of the shop painting the woodwork in alarmingly bright shades of pink and purple. "Don't mind me," I said, "I'm only taking a photo of that slab". So he carried on painting, and I got my close-up photographs [photo], and his shop gets an unexpected plug on this blog today.
xxi) On Farnaby Road, at the precise point where the gardens make way for a golf course, a stumpy metal post lurks beside an overgrown fence. It was put there by the Ravensbourne Valley Preservation Society to mark both the millennium and the meridian, and still presents two mirrored faces to west and east [photo]. Few pedestrian visitors pass this way and the neighbouring bus stop offers only a token service six days a week. Be in no doubt, most local residents cross the meridian by car.
Greenwich Observatory (south)
vi) The semicircular Rose Garden is an elegant and peaceful part of Greenwich Park [photo], in bloom even in October! If you fancy a nice sit down, some of the benches around the hedged perimeter are in the western hemisphere, and some are in the east.
Blackheath
Lee
Our prime meridian goes through Greenwich thanks to a 17th century astronomer's telescope. John Flamsteed was the first Astronomer Royal and made all his observations from a hilltop shed in the grounds of the newly established Royal Greenwich Observatory. An imaginary line drawn from north to south through this telescope became the marker from which celestial measurements of longitude were taken. But Flamsteed's was the only the first of four Greenwich meridians, each defined by a different successive telescope, and each now marked by a silver plaque on the observatory wall. Meridian 1: based on John Flamsteed's telescope, 1685 Meridian 2: based on Edmund Halley's telescope, 1725 (185cm east of Flamsteed's meridian) Established when Flamsteed's original telescope began to subside into the ground. Meridian 3: based on James Bradley's telescope, 1750 (11m east of Halley's meridian). Still used by the Ordnance Survey for map-making purposes. Meridian 4: based on George Airy's telescope, 1851 (5.79m east of Bradley's meridian). Selected as the Prime Meridian of the world exactly 125 years ago this week.
It's the last of these lines which draws thousands of tourists to the summit of Greenwich Park every year. Legs astride the meridian they scramble to take photos of one another in the front courtyard, one foot in the west and the other in the east. You've probably stood here yourself, although if you've not visited recently you may not yet be aware that the public face of the Observatory has had something of a presentational revamp. There's no longer direct admittance to the courtyard, so folk now have to venture inside through a turnstile in the main Equatorial Building. No charge, it's still free, but they've finally got rid of the ridiculous requirement to collect an unnecessary ticket on the way in. Turn left to visit the two-year-old Astronomy Centre and bold bronze conical planetarium [photo]. Both are excellent, but time instead requires us to turn right onto the "Meridian route". The Observatory's rear courtyard has recently been remodelled, replacing a nondescript patch of grass with a flower border and raised path [photo]. Visitors aren't made aware that they're crossing the meridian here, presumably to avoid congestion, but a metal globe on a plinth marks the invisible line across the garden [photo]. Onward past a rather huge telescope to the information desk, where a beaming girl would quite like to flog you an audio guide for £3.50, then out into a landscaped Garden of Time [photo]. Ahead is Flamsteed House [photo], whose Wren-built Octagon Room would have been perfect for the first meridian telescope had not the building accidentally been aligned 13 degrees off true north. An excellent exhibition of time and timepieces is housed within, including John Harrison's longitude-beating nautical chronometers, although most foreign visitors whizz through here fairly fast. They're after that definitive photo astride the famous brass meridian line in the main courtyard [photo], or maybe an ice cream from the first trailer kiosk in the western hemisphere [photo].
And then visitors pass back inside, this time for a rapid chronological jog through Greenwich's zero degree telescopes. Flamsteed's first, then a room aligned for Halley, then the room in which James Bradley took his measurements. The final chamber is almost completely filled by Airy's Transit Circle, which points outward across the milling snappers in the courtyard towards the stars beyond. If the Greenwich meridian could have an epicentre this would be it, not that most of the passers by seem to recognise the instrument's true significance. A variety of Prime Meridian souvenirs are available nextdoor - perfect if you're ever short of a fridge magnet or two. And don't forget to take the detour up the stairs to the Time and Society Gallery (important, but underwhelming), because this leads on to the Onion Dome perched at the very top of the building. Housed inside is the largest refracting telescope in the UK, a pert 28-incher built in 1893, through which the public are still invited to take a look at least once a month. Had this monster have been in place a decade earlier, then the Greenwich Meridian would probably have passed through these giant crosshairs instead. But it's Airy's line of sight that's been immortalised here at Greenwich and, quite literally, all around the world. n.b. With the advent of global positioning technology in the 1990s, a new virtual meridian has been introduced. It lies 102½ metres further east than the official Greenwich meridian and is the line used for all air and sea navigation. That's why when you stand in the courtyard at Greenwich wielding a handheld GPS device it doesn't show a longitude of precisely 0°0'0".
xii) Only a handful of railway stations lie precisely on the meridian, and Hither Green is the only one south of the Thames. Even better, you don't have to enter the station to see its meridian marker. A pedestrian subway leads beneath the tracks [photo], linking the shopping parade in Staplehurst Road to a bleak plaza on the opposite side of the tracks. Midway through, almost precisely where a ramp leads upward to the ticket office, a silver arch crosses the darkened roof of the tunnel [photo]. A red strip up and over the centre divides the western hemisphere from the east [photo]. Top marks to whoever thought up this idea, which beats the usual council-friendly scrawled mural depicting worthy services from the local community. Step beneath in awe and wonder, and let's be on our way.
xiv) Beyond the South Circular, at the heart of the Corbett Estate, the local parish church lies directly on the zero degree line [photo]. This Edwardian pile ought perhaps to be called St Andrew's-on-the-Meridian, but alas not. It has (reputedly) the widest Gothic nave in Britain, a whopping forty feet across, plus a newly restored organ. I didn't get to peek inside, however, because The Free Pentecostal Apostolic Church of the Lord Jesus Christ were in full flow within.
xvi) And then, oh blimey, I really wasn't expecting this. I knew that Catford had an enclave of surviving post-war prefabs, but I wasn't expecting to turn a corner on my Meridian journey and stumble upon them [photo]. Altogether there are 189 low-rise temporary chalets here, each set in its own fenced off patch of land, and each lovingly cared for [photo]. A few fluttering Union Jacks here, a few gnomes there, and all around the feeling of being amongst a defiantly proud and tightly knit community. Residents christened this the Excalibur estate, and the byways are all named after lesser known knights of the Round Table. Meliot Road (named after Sir Meliot de Logris) runs closely parallel to the meridian, with the line passing through one particularly fine example of a half-timbered prefab [photo] [photo]. Oh to discover that such a building even exists, let alone in such a significant location. In the 1950s a prefab-packed estate such as this might have been a common sight in many parts of South East England, but this Catford hideaway is a rare (and uncommonly large) survivor. Six chalets have recently been protected with Grade II listed status, but long-term residents won't be reassured until the council finally designate the whole of Excalibur an official conservation area. Long may this unique lifestyle continue, it's magic.
xiii) The tall black totem pole you can see to the right of this photo is a Millennium Milepost, placed Dome-side on the Thames Path by Sustrans the transport charity. There are 1000 such mileposts on cycle routes across the country, each featuring a lettered metal disc which is a clue in a long-forgotten national treasure hunt. I could tell you what the letter is on this particular meridian-sited milepost but that might ruin the fun for all you cycle-clipped puzzlers out there. I can tell you that the sign has been placed two metres too far east.
xxiii) After crossing the Bromley South railway line just west of Shortlands station, the Greenwich Meridian gets proper suburban. Residential street after residential street, occasionally flats but more usually houses, and increasingly houses with more garden than house. I traipsed up and down hills, and wandered along winding avenues only to retrace my steps, all in an attempt to follow an invisible line through the neighbourhood. I kept hoping that some interesting feature might lie along the zero line of longitude but I was disappointed. Enid Blyton's house on Shortlands Road? Missed. The hilltop Celtic cross of the Shortlands War Memorial [photo]? Close, but not quite. Anything that wasn't a house, a road or a garden. Absolutely not.
xxvii) One final within-London meridian marker can be found at the Coney Hall Recreation Ground. It's likely that you'll never ever visit this recreational plateau, not unless you have a penchant for obscure 1930s suburbs, or ever choose to walk section 4 of the London Loop long distance footpath. The zero-degree post resembles a sort of OS triangulation point, except made from considerably cheaper materials, and with a lumpy hemisphere protruding from the top [photo]. Two sides are inscribed with not very much writing, and the whole thing looks like a couple of hefty kicks from some local youth would cause it considerable damage. Thankfully, when I visited at least, local youth were much more interested in kicking a football around instead. Alas they were deliberately ignoring the nearby goalposts and had chosen to play up close to the meridian post, which made photographing it slightly awkward. But I sort of managed [photo]. And then rapidly made my exit.
Millions of tourists have stood precisely here, in the courtyard at the Royal Greenwich Observatory astride the famous brass meridian line. Cameras at the ready, left leg in the western hemisphere, right leg in the eastern hemisphere, click. The meridian passes directly through the observatory, and is precisely defined by the centre of the crosshairs of George Airy's 1851 transit telescope. Above the telescope on the outside of the building there's a clock counting the days since the Millennium, a silver plaque and a tiny hole out of which a green laser shines along the meridian after dark, visible for many miles to the north. The red line down the face of the building marks the precise longitude at which time begins. But it's not the original Greenwich Meridian.
Meridian 1: based on John Flamsteed's telescope, 1685
vii) Old Woolwich Road School lies bang on the line, and so has been renamed Meridian Primary.
This is the top of Pole Hill, a wooded hillock in Norman Tebbitt's old stomping round of Chingford. It's quiet, it's gorgeous, and it's unique. This is the edge of London, the border with Essex lying less than half a mile away. This is where the green belt begins, the northern slopes rolling down to form the edge of Epping Forest. And this is where the Greenwich Meridian passes, marked by not one but two stone pillars.
This pillar was erected in 1824 under the direction of the Reverend John Pond M.A. Astronomer Royal. It was placed on the Greenwich Meridian and its purpose was to indicate the direction of true North from the transit telescope of the Royal Observatory. The Greenwich Meridian, as changed in 1850 & adopted by international agreement in 1884 as the line of zero longitude, passes 19 feet to the East of this pillar.
