Thu 1: A new coffee shop has opened just inside the gateline at Whitechapel station (or at least I assumed it was new because it didn't have a name displayed anywhere, whereas apparently it opened in June). It turns out they're called Yellow Ladder Coffee and their lattes cost 3.7 (unless you order them online where it seems they can do prices properly). Fri 2: The boundary stone between Herts and Middlesex on Bushey High Road is topped by a crusty bread roll (which I suspect may be temporary).
Sat 3: Tonight BBC4 repeated an edition of Noel's House Party from 1994, and it's amazing everyone used to watch this like it was the best show ever, but perhaps we forget how innovative its interactive elements (like NTV and Grab a Grand) were at the time. Sun 4: Dammit, I had to turn my lights on before 9pm for the first time since midsummer (and by the end of the month it'll be 8pm, sigh) Mon 5: In my alphabetical odyssey through classic authors at my local library, I was enlightened by VS Naipul's Booker-winning In A Free State, wished I hadn't bothered with Ben Okri and was astonished how Edgar Allan Poe managed to invent the modern detective story in the first half of the 19th century. The locked room mystery in The Murders In The Rue Morgue has a proper Jonathan Creek vibe, right down to the gobsmackingly unlikely simian reveal. Tue 6: The member of staff sat outside the Upside Down House at Lakeside shopping centre looked very very bored. Intriguingly admission to Lakeside's Upside Down House is £1 cheaper than an identical UDH in Bournemouth and £2 cheaper than Liverpool, Shepherd's Bush and Brighton, but £1.45 more expensive than the UDH in Clacton. There's market forces for you.
Wed 7: In Stoke Newington I stumbled across the Princess May Road Community Parklet, which is essentially a former parking space replaced by decking and a few planters. Originally it also had wooden benches and without them it feels less of a social focus (indeed the space might have been more useful as another cycle store). Thu 8: As part of Newham History Month (which is long finished) I spotted a self-guided walk called ‘A Mile of Memories: Life, Work and Leisure in Stratford’ which links Angel Lane to Sugar House Island and includes old photos and audio. Fri 9:Bluesky would be better if it wasn't awash with puritans repeatedly sermonising about the other place. Sat 10: If you ever visit the 13th century church of St Margaret The Queen in Buxted, East Sussex, not only does the chancel arch have semi-octagonal responds with a double-chamfered head but they also sell a very good range of jams and pickles.
Sun 11: Britain's Olympic medal performance has been deemed unsatisfactory because although we got tons of medals (the third highest total) we didn't get 'enough' golds so only came 7th overall, and some people are never happy but that's sport for you,, so much emphasis on winning that anything less is considered a disappointing failure. See also 'being the FA Cup runner up'. Mon 12: My savagely-pruned rosebush has produced two more deep ruby blooms, which is a nice surprise a couple of months after the first minor display. Tue 13: The official advice in Richmond Park is to stay at least 50m away from the deer at all times, but I suspect most people encountering antlered clusters have no idea precisely how far that is. I'm sure I got too close. Wed 14: I received an unusual email from a civil engineering company asking if I had any photos of the Croydon Canal in Betts Park during the installation of rock baskets, and I replied saying no obviously not, but then I checked and amazingly I had four photos taken during the right few weeks in 2017 and it turned out these were exactly what they wanted.
Thu 15: I thought I spotted Amol Rajan on the Piccadilly line heading home from the Today studio, but he got off at the wrong stop and his watch wasn't expensive enough and he didn't have an earring and it turned out it was Justin Webb and Emma Barnett on duty this morning anyway. Fri 16: I've enjoyed reading Walking the Bones of Britain by Christopher Somerville, a highly descriptive account of a twisty walk from the (very old) Isle of Lewis to the (very young) Thames Estuary focusing throughout on the influence of the underlying geology. Sat 17: My quiet carriage on the train to Havant was invaded at East Croydon by a bunch of boisterous middle-aged Luton fans, all effin and jeffin and base chatter. When they displayed a total inability to work out if they were in the right half of the train I snapped back condescendingly, which surprised me and peeved them, but they were at least a bit quieter after that. By a terrible coincidence they'd booked the same train home so I very nearly ran into them again at the station but sensibly dodged into another carriage, leaving them to empty an entire multipack of Stella and several packets of Wotsits. Instead I found myself sitting beside some of their shaven-headed Luton mates, who proceeded to slag the bastards off and I felt much better after that.
Sun 18: Manchester-based Mill Media have joined forces with a south London substack called The Wimble to create a weekly newsletter for residents of SW19 or thereabouts. It's all put together by a journalist called Zak, and it's a bit like hyperlocal blogging used to be but in a smarter typeface and emailable. Mon 19: FFS there is nothing special about a 'blue supermoon', it looks no different to an ordinary supermoon, which isn't especially rare and exciting either, especially when if you'd bothered to check the weather forecast there was no chance of anyone seeing it anyway. Tue 20:Posters at c2c stations are advertising "London to Southend by train for £9.20", which sounds great but if you read the small print that's from West Ham, not from Fenchurch Street (and if you want to come back again it's £18.40). Wed 21: In Mostyn Gardens NW10 is a fibreglass bear looking up at a cockerel on a pole, which is a mighty strange thing to find on an ordinary suburban pavement. I think it's part of Brent's pandemic-aborted year as Borough of Culture.
Thu 22: If you remember that old tumbledown warehouse on the Grand Union towpath in Brentford (part of Capital Ring section 7) alas it's been demolished and a slew of new housing is encroaching outwards from the bus depot. Apparently phase 3 of the development will includes the sanitised struts of the warehouse, pretentiously elevated. Fri 23: Sheila, who's been working for Tesco since 1983, is retiring next month, so I made a special point of thanking her at the checkout, which I doubt they'll bother opening early on a Friday any more after she's gone. Sat 24: St Swithin's Day was exceptionally wet this year, but 40 days later my annual folklore check confirms that only 14 of the subsequent days were wet, so dead 9th century bishops know nothing. Sun 25: While I was at Theobalds Grove I diverted up to Cheshunt to see my grandparents, both of whom have spent the best part of 50 years in a leafy corner of the cemetery watched over by an Enfield Highway Cooperative Society headstone. The plot beside them is still empty but umpteen other grandparents have slowly encroached, including one whose epitaph is all lower case and references egg sandwiches and "milkey tea". Mon 26: I do not recommend spending your Bank Holiday Monday in Poyle (especially when the next is 25 weeks away). However on the way back I did get this rather nice photo of Hounslow West, one of only two seven-sided tube stations.
Tue 27: In the latest edition of the South East Walker I read... "At their last meeting TfL's Leisure Walking Plan Delivery Group committed to the creation of two more walking routes by the end of 2027, adding to the Green Link Walk unveiled in March. One of these will be the Forgotten Rivers Walk that is planned to run from the London Loop at Borehamwood down to Blackfriars. This journey will take in the Silk Stream at Burnt Oak, the Dollis Brook in Barnet and the hidden River Fleet rising on Hampstead Heath." The second route (which is still to be finally decided) will include parts of south London and may follow alongside less well-known rivers like the Quaggy. Wed 28: The Lioness line sign at Kensal Green has indeed been covered over by another vinyl, because the official unveiling isn't for four more weeks, but I see someone naughty's already started peeling off one corner. Thu 29: Sometimes you get an email that utterly unexpectedly realises a dream, thanks. Fri 30: Sometimes you get a text message that reminds you of the unpredictable fragility of life, dammit. Sat 31: A new coffee shop/juice bar called Posted opened a few months ago in the former betting shop on Stroudley Walk. I'm glad they finally cleared the pigeons out. It's quite smart for this end of E3, but in a cool rather than pretentious way. I've never seen it busy until this week when a flock of e-bike delivery riders descended and hung out. I tell you all this because today I held a gate open for a random woman on the street and afterwards she urged me to go to Posted and to tell everyone about it. I have done one of these things.
London's Free Buses RP1: Richmond Park circular Length of journey: 12 miles, 90 minutes
London has a handful of free bus routes if you know where to look. Possibly the longest and least frequent of these is the RP1, a minibus service organised by the Royal Parks to provide accessible transport through and around Richmond Park. Just because you can't get around easily any more, why should you miss out on enjoying London's finest park? But it's not specifically operated as a mobility bus, anyone can use it, perhaps even go for the full 12 mile sightseeing circuit... and all for free.
When? Originally it only ran on Wednesdays so I'd often find myself in Richmond Park on not-Wednesday and think "ah, missed it again". Then last year it was extended to Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, offering a much wider window to ride, and I got lucky. It's also not a year-round bus, this year only operational from 29th March to 27th November, so you still have a month to get in a leaf-fall ride.
Route? All over the park and then some, ensuring everywhere gets a chance. First stop is always the end of the Roehampton estate in Danebury Avenue, then it's a clockwise circuit ticking off six of the Gates and three of the main sights - Pen Ponds, the Isabella Plantation and Pembroke Lodge. It's hard to get the measure of the route from the timetable so thankfully a map exists showing stops 1 to 12, and if you treat it as a dot to dot you'll see how wilfully meandering the RP1 is.
Timetable? See here. The first bus is around half nine and the last at half four, which might sound like ages but is in fact only time for the bus to make four journeys. Two are in the morning, then the driver goes on a lunchbreak so important it has its own column in the timetable, then two are in the afternoon. If you want to make a full circuit, best rock up before eleven or after one.
Vehicle? It's not a looker, it's a 16 seater Mercedes which the rest of the week is used by Richmond and Kingston Accessible Transport for work in the community. Wheelchairs are patently catered for. A sign on board demands that everyone wears their seatbelt but that wasn't enforced on my journey.
Fare? As previously mentioned it's free. Originally the funding came from a Lottery grant but when that ran out two mystery local benefactors stepped up, and I guess they've stepped up some more now the RP1's gone three days a week.
I thought I'd pick up the RP1 from the bus stop by the Isabella Plantation where I'd been admiring the coppery shades. Proper bus stops have been placed all around the park, even chunky wooden benches to wait on because this particular enterprise is being taken very seriously indeed. The bus was alas late, which can be awkward when you can't check online but in this case I'd seen the minibus trundling by earlier so I knew it was coming. And so it did, first picking up a passenger standing nowhere near the bus stop, then performing an awkward reversing manoeuvre in the disabled car park to pick up me. "How's everyone doing for temperature?" asked the driver, as well as welcoming me aboard, then drove for about ten metres and stopped.
It very soon became apparent that this was going to be a sightseeing tour as well as a point to point journey. The driver pointed out an impressively antlered stag eyeing up the females in the nearby bracken, also the younger stags on the opposite side who'd already been cast out by their parents to avoid "deer incest". You don't get this kind of thing on a Golden Tours double decker rounding Hyde Park Corner. I should point out I wasn't the only audience, there was also a lady with a walking stick and three young tourists from Saudi Arabia who'd curiously come here immediately before heading off to ride the London Eye.
A 'Road Closed' sign on the road to Ham Gate explained why the bus had been late, this due to ongoing repairs by Thames Water, and made me glad I hadn't chosen to wait for the bus in Ham. As we headed north our driver launched into the story about the protected view of St Paul's from King Henry's Mound and also enthused about the multiplicity of facilities available at Pembroke Lodge. He then alighted to make use of those facilities because a driver's got to take his relief where he can, and unexpectedly this break in service lasted almost ten minutes. The lady with the stick struck up a conversation and told me she's a regular on the route, often popping over from Wandsworth, and with the splendid autumnal views across the park it was easy to see why.
I thought I'd alight at the Richmond Gate - I could see the stop by the mini-roundabout - but in the absence of a bell I wasn't quite sure how to alert the driver. I decided to stand up and move towards the front of the bus but the driver didn't notice and drove straight past, launching into his next anecdote about David Attenborough's very favourite very old tree. Never mind, I thought, I'll get off at the next stop, but the next stop turned out to be a mile and a half away at the Sheen Gate. On the plus side it meant I heard a somewhat dubious story about the Queen's birth certificate, but on the downside the Sheen Gate turned out to be a very long walk from any other transport option. The Saudi trio, it turned out, were going to hail an Uber.
What the RP1 bus does here in the name of accessibility is quite frankly ridiculous. First the driver hops out to unlock the gate that bars all other traffic, then drives through, then walks back to lock it again. Then he drives to Mortlake station, specifically the bus stop that's only used by mobility route 969, an interchange that only works once a week on a Friday. Then he performs an awkward reversing manoeuvre in a council car park and returns to the Sheen Gate, performing the entire unlocking ritual in reverse, all before crossing the park for a mere five minutes before breaking for his lunch. I should have asked to get back on board - the driver was lovely enough he wouldn't have blinked - but instead waved him off and thought "well at least I'll know what I'm doing next time". Even if mobility issues strike me down I needn't miss out on the glories of Richmond Park.
I'm continuing my outer orbit of London in Sevenoaks. This administrative district is one of the largest of the seventeen touching the capital - the size of Bromley, Bexley, Croydon, Lewisham and Greenwich put together. It's in the northwestern corner of Kent, and it's also lovely, packed with rolling fields and rippling valleys. So I was utterly spoilt for choice in places to go, and also horribly hamstrung by the need to travel long distances on public transport. The rules of the project say I have to go to four interesting places in one day, which I just about managed, but I could have made a day out out of each of them. Starting in the northern half.
Somewhere to begin: Sevenoaks Museum
Don't rush. Sevenoaks is one of the many local authorities nationwide who've chosen to locate their museum within the heart of another public building, in this case the local library. This 1980s building is located in the least lovely corner of Sevenoaks town centre, up a major service road half way to Waitrose, just behind what passes for a bus station. Head up the ramp, and inside up again to a mezzanine where bored mums watch their children scrawling in crayon. The museum's through a door that has a notice on it to remind visitors to come inside, else they'd probably think the room beyond was closed. Here various artefacts are labelled and tucked away behind glass, the better to protect them after vandals ran amok last year and beheaded a rocking horse. Hop-picking gets a mention, and there's the obligatory cabinet on WW2, while up on the wall is the old station sign from Bat and Ball. The museum's trying its best to be interactive, but lacks a sense of place and has no sense of wow. And if you push through the door to the next room, oh, that's the art gallery, we're done. Don't rush.
The town is much more interesting, especially the High Street which has considerable character. It's not been taken over by nasty chain stores, and still has hardware stores and haberdashery in amongst the coffee shops. A triangle in the centre is called The Shambles, not quite up to York standards but with quirky narrow twisty streets. Yes, there are boutiques for ladies, and for ladies of a certain age, because we're in provincial Kent. And yes, there's a Sevenoaks Sound and Vision, because of course there'd have to be. But make sure you keep walking beyond HSBC onto Tonbridge Road. There are some proper old buildings along here, of the kind that Jane Austen and Charles Dickens once stayed in, and the 18th century cottages in Six Bells Lane are mighty fine. And best of all, if you find the right path east (and you have to hunt), within minutes you end up in the thousand acre deer park at Knole. At its heart is a massive Tudor mansion, and all around the antlered herds run free. Now that's how to do a day out in Sevenoaks, but not this time. by train: Sevenoaks
Somewhere sporting: The Vine Cricket Ground
Kent is one of the top cricket counties, and at Sevenoaks it has one of the oldest grounds in the country. The Vine was given to the town 250 years ago by the nobility at Knole, and the home club are still obliged to pay a rent of one cricket ball to Lord Sackville each summer. The ground has a prominent position at the end of the High Street, opposite the war memorial, and its big claim to fame involves stumps. Initially cricket was a game with two stumps, but at a game between Kent and Sussex in 1773 they hammered in a third, for the first recorded occasion in the history of the game. There have been no county matches here since 1829, but The Vine is still home to one of the top teams in the Kent League, and the Second XI were out playing yesterday against Beckenham.
In the gaps between the showers, the white-clad folk thwacked leather against willow in the centre of the green. The crowd, it must be said, was limited. A couple of gentlemen lingered by the boundary, then wandered off, while a group of teenage girls strutted along the rail gossiping loudly and paying no attention whatsoever to the action. Rather more spectators will have been tucked away inside the pavilion, a weatherboarded building dating back to 1850, and more like something you'd expect to see at the seaside. It was therefore particularly exhilarating, as I wandered round the boundary, to suddenly see the match ball flying straight at me. It could have been a direct hit, so coincidental was the batsman's aim, but instead the ball slammed into the wooden perimeter rail and fell to the ground. Suddenly a dozen men were looking in my direction, none of them realising I'm a total klutz at throwing, but thankfully I managed to chuck the stitched globe semi-appropriately towards the approaching midwicket fielder.
The Vine boasts one more feature of some significance, in that it's the home of Sevenoaks'seven oaks. They're not the originals, not least because the town's name dates back far more centuries than the game of cricket. But the cricket ground's the place that Sevenoaks has chosen to maintain its eponymous feature since at least Victorian times. The current seven are Coronation Oaks, planted rather appropriately for Edward VII, or they would be had it not been for the Great Storm of 1987. This destroyed thousands of mature trees across Kent, and only one of the Coronation Oaks remained standing. Replacements were sourced, but they planted seven (for reasons of future consistency), making eight oaks altogether. And now there are nine (there definitely are, I counted), apparently for reasons of vandalism. They curve round the far end of the ground, near the tiny thatched scoring hut, by this time of year resplendent in full leaf. The difference between old and new is becoming less conspicuous with each passing year, but I don't think the name Nineoaks will ever catch on. by train: Sevenoaks
Somewhere historic: Shoreham Aircraft Museum
There are dozens of WW2-related museums across the country, many of them related to planes. But this museum's rather different, and that's all down to its location. Kent suffered greatly throughout the war for being the county closest to mainland Europe, and also on the direct route for bombers heading to London. Countless aircraft made it through to their target, but many were shot down by British forces and crashed to the ground. Usually the crumpled fuselage was appropriated by the authorities, but not before local people had salvaged the odd souvenir, and it's these remains that form the basis of the Shoreham Aircraft Museum's collection.
Access is downhill from the station through a rather pretty village (but then they all are in the Darenth Valley). On first sight the museum looks like a normal house with signs out front, but head up the sidepath to access a larger compound behind. So long as it's a weekend between Easter and October you'll get inside, and then three quid gets you inside the museum proper. You might well meet Geoff, son of the original founder (the place has been going since 1978), or another of the enthusiastic volunteers that keep the place ticking over. In pride of place is the cockpit of a Ju88A-1 'Schnellbomber', recently acquired and part-restored, but the main bodyof the museum is in two rooms beyond.
Here are the crumpled engines of Messerschmitts and Hurricanes, along with associated bits of fuselage and wing sections, along with eye-witness accounts of how they crashed. It's these stories that bring the place to life, and add a human dimension to what could otherwise be a collection of metal. A wide variety of other WW2 memorabilia is interspersed between the aircraft parts, and there's also a small shop (currently selling commemorative mugs from the day over Easter when JimDavidson popped in). Throw in a tearoom that doubles up as an art gallery at the bottom of the garden, and you have a very different, but very passionate, small attraction. Truly a museum for the fallen. by train: Shoreham (Kent)
Back in 1543, King Henry VIII was getting on a bit and had become more than a bit of an obese lardarse. This made climbing onto a horse, let alone hunting the royal deer, rather difficult. What was Henry to do but construct a great big three-storey platform in the middle of Waltham Forest from which he could shoot at things. He called this building his Grand Standing, although it was probably more of a Grand SittingDown. Even the central staircase was built less steeply than usual to give Henry a fighting chance of being able to climb it. Out in the forest expert huntsmen tracked down deer, then penned them up, before letting them run loose across Chingford Plain past the monarch's steely gaze. One crossbow shot later and the deer would conveniently drop dead, whether the King had hit it or not. Damned fine shots, those covert royal archers. But not really proper hunting.
King Henry died a few years after the lodge was finished. It was Queen Elizabeth who later ordered that the decaying building be repaired, and that's how it came to be named after her instead. The lodge continued to be used for the 16th century equivalent of corporate hospitality, as a special hideaway where influential nobles wined and dined on the day's carnivorous spoils. The middle floor was the posh one, with lesser noblemen posted up top and the servants confined as far as possible to the lower floor. There were no glass windows at the time, this was very much a grandstand open to the elements, gaudily painted and draped with fluttering banners. Not a good place to stay the night, hence everyone having to lodge elsewhere after nightfall.
In the 17th century the building became a forest keeper's residence, with the local crown court installed on the upper floor. The Victorians insisted on slapping gallons of plaster all over the walls, semi-wrecking the place in the process, and then a tearoom moved in to cater for day-trippers from London arriving via the new-fangled steam railway. For most of the 20th century the building doubled up as a museum packed with stuffed animals and almost-thrilling historical artefacts. I think my uncle took me there once, back when I was quite little, although I don't remember the interior very clearly. So I thought I ought to go back.
No, that huge Tudorbethan mansion beside the golf course wasn't the hunting lodge, it was a rather large Victorian Harvester-type pub. So I tried the bijou limewashed buildingnextdoor, the one wth the Corporation of London sign outside. It's only open from 1 til 4 at weekends at this time of year (and attracts a mammoth seven visitors per hour, according to the tally chart on the desk inside). I'd like to thank the lady at the desk for her highly informative talk about the history of the house, and also for not commenting on my heavily mud-splattered trousers. It's damned squelchy out in Epping Forest at the moment, and I'd taken a rather ill-advised route through the woods from Buckhurst Hill to get here.
On into the kitchen/scullery, where there's a not quite convincing display of fake foods (such as fruits and spices) like what Elizabethan aristocracy would have eaten. And then up the stairs (ooh yes, very gentle) to the shooting room on the first floor. There are a couple of appropriately dressed mannequins in the near corner, as well as a box of clothes so that children (and childish adults) can attempt to dress themselves similarly. It's quite an empty room otherwise, and therefore not especially easy to imagine as the heart of the royal hunting party's festivities. At least the view from the window is pretty much as Henry might have remembered it (apart from the golf course where the deer would have been kept, that is, and a rather out-of-place suburban dwelling nextdoor).
And finally up to the top of the building, beneath a magnificent timbered roof. In fact if you like woodwork you'll really enjoy a visit to the Lodge, not just because it was assembled by master carpenters but also because a surprisingly high proportion of the exhibits and information panels are about joints and carving and superior timber-based craftsmanship. Up here on the second floor there are also a couple of stuffed deer left over from the building's more museum-y days - one just an antlered head peering beadily down over the stairs. And, of course, there are a few more displays about hunting. Seen enough? Spiral back down to the entrance, and don't think you're escaping without filling in one of the nice lady's photocopied questionnaires. It's a small price to pay for free admittance to this fascinating survivor from a long-gone era of violent excess. by train: Chingford by bus: 97, 179, 212, 313, 379, 444
Cromwell Road bus station in Kingston has reopened.
There are eight versions of today's post, according to your level of interest.
(click to jump to the right one)
1) I just need the basics 2) I never intend to visit but tell me more 3) I sometimes use this bus station 4) I need accessible options 5) I am very very interested in buses 6) I only want to know what's wrong with it 7) I like laughing at press releases 8) I hate buses, please stop writing about them
1) New bus station reopens
Cromwell Road bus station is the larger of Kingston's two bus interchanges. It closed in August 2023 for a complete rebuild including new facilities and a brand new canopy. Yesterday it finally reopened (later than hoped after a few months of snagging). It looks a lot nicer than before and should be better at warding off the elements. TfL are very proud of how much more sustainable and energy efficient it is.
2) Bus station refurbishment complete
The previous bus station opened in 1995 on the site of a former coal yard. It was 12 bays long with four additional bus stops alongside the ring road. TfL first proposed major modernisation in 2013, submitted plans in 2015 and had them approved in 2016, because that's how long it takes to fund a project and bring it to completion. The redevelopment is bookended by two new pavilions which include waiting rooms, an information counter and facilities for staff. Inbetween is a longcanopy formed from diamond-shaped openings through weathered steel plates supported by curved cruciform columns. The new seating is chunky wooden benches rather than less-comfy green-painted metal. It all looks great.
3) Praise be, the bus station is finally open again
It's been a very long fifteen months hasn't it? Not having a bus station has been a right faff with services despatched from temporary stops on the ring road or much further afield, but now thank god they're all back in one place again. The important thing is that all the buses are leaving from exactly the same stop as before, nobody's reshuffled them like they normally do. Here's what departs from where.
♿ A4
285 A5/A6
111 A7/A8
216 A9
411 A10
461 A11
481 458 A12
K1 A13
71 A14/15
465 A16
central walkway
A1 213 371 SL7 K2 K3 K4 K5
Z1 alight only
A2 57 85 131 K5
A3 65 281 406 418 513 514 515 715
Posters showing which bus leaves from which bay have been posted all over the place. Be aware that the northbound 65 and westbound SL7 depart from a nearby street - a special arrow on signage points the way. If you need more help there's an Information and Assistance window, although it may not always be occupied. The waiting room isn't ready yet. A heck of a lot of security cameras are watching every move you make. The new canopy looks well smart, like the cloisters in an Escher cathedral or a huge block of melting chocolate. It's not rusty, it just looks like that.
4) Accessible options at the forefront
The unique thing about Cromwell Road bus station is that none of the twelve bays are suitable for accessible boarding. This is not a thoughtless omission, this is deliberate. Instead all those with wheelchairs, pushchairs and mobility needs are directed to bus stop A4. This is located beside the exit from the bus station so every vehicle has to pass it on the way out. It has a drop kerb and also a bench you can wait on until the bus you want arrives. What it doesn't have is a poster explaining where all the buses go, you're expected to know that. Conveniently the accessible stop is located beside the accessible toilet, because hurrah there's now one of those too.
5) Revamped bus station is bustastic
Sixteen bus stops makes this the largest of all TfL's bus stations. Vehicles you can spot include Streetdeck Electroliners, Enviro200 MMCs and Superloop-branded 10.4m Geminis. All yourfavouriteteenagecreators were down here on the first morning filming videos to save you the bother of turning up. Respect for the uploaders. Sadly the small unit that's potentially a coffee shop is utterly empty so you'll need to bring your own thermos.
6) Yes there are mistakes and omissions
A clock would be nice. There isn't a clock. Yes there are two electronic departure boards, one at either end, but you can't see either of them if you're waiting at a bus stop. The other thing there isn't is a map. A spider map would be really useful, particularly given this is an interchange with a huge number of departure options, but these days nobody can be bothered to produce any up-to-date spider maps for the two Kingston bus stations or the town centre. It's all very well having a simple list of destinations if where you want to go is a terminus like Putney or Epsom, but for intermediate places like Surbiton or Cheam your only option is walking up and down and scouring all the timetables. Also at bus stop A12 they got the name of the operator and the days of operation wrong so those parts of the sign have had to be covered over with white tape.
7) The PR desk has been working overtime
» "This brand-new bus station will make bus journeys in Kingston much more convenient, safe and attractive." (Attractive yes, safe perhaps, but it's the same stops in the same place which I don't think is "much more convenient") » "...with a new canopy in the waiting area to keep passengers warm and dry throughout the seasons" (I can assure you the canopy does nothing whatsoever to keep people warm, and won't keep you dry either if the wind direction is wrong) » Lorna Murphy, TfL's Director of Buses, said: "The new bus station has been designed with customers in mind" (I'd hope so because the alternative would be ridiculous) » "The 1,600 square meters of Sustainable Drainage System (SuDS) at Cromwell Road bus station adds to TfL's annual target of 5,000 square meters of SuDS catchment" (if a single bus station can contribute a third of your annual quota then your SuDS target is miserably unaspirational)
8) I was in Bushy Park and this young stag just trotted past
The Kingston area's not all about buses, it's also about close encounters of the antlered kind. But you could get here by catching a 111 from bus stop A7 and alighting at Hampton Grove, if only you did buses.
Beyond London (2): Sevenoaks (part 1)
The town is much more interesting, especially the High Street which has considerable character. It's not been taken over by nasty chain stores, and still has hardware stores and haberdashery in amongst the coffee shops. A triangle in the centre is called The Shambles, not quite up to York standards but with quirky narrow twisty streets. Yes, there are boutiques for ladies, and for ladies of a certain age, because we're in provincial Kent. And yes, there's a Sevenoaks Sound and Vision, because of course there'd have to be. But make sure you keep walking beyond HSBC onto Tonbridge Road. There are some proper old buildings along here, of the kind that Jane Austen and Charles Dickens once stayed in, and the 18th century cottages in Six Bells Lane are mighty fine. And best of all, if you find the right path east (and you have to hunt), within minutes you end up in the thousand acre deer park at Knole. At its heart is a massive Tudor mansion, and all around the antlered herds run free. Now that's how to do a day out in Sevenoaks, but not this time.
Access is downhill from the station through a rather pretty village (but then they all are in the Darenth Valley). On first sight the museum looks like a normal house with signs out front, but head up the sidepath to access a larger compound behind. So long as it's a weekend between Easter and October you'll get inside, and then three quid gets you inside the museum proper. You might well meet Geoff, son of the original founder (the place has been going since 1978), or another of the enthusiastic volunteers that keep the place ticking over. In pride of place is the cockpit of a Ju88A-1 'Schnellbomber', recently acquired and part-restored, but the main body of the museum is in two rooms beyond.
Back in 1543, King Henry VIII was getting on a bit and had become more than a bit of an obese lardarse. This made climbing onto a horse, let alone hunting the royal deer, rather difficult. What was Henry to do but construct a great big three-storey platform in the middle of Waltham Forest from which he could shoot at things. He called this building his Grand Standing, although it was probably more of a Grand SittingDown. Even the central staircase was built less steeply than usual to give Henry a fighting chance of being able to climb it. Out in the forest expert huntsmen tracked down deer, then penned them up, before letting them run loose across Chingford Plain past the monarch's steely gaze. One crossbow shot later and the deer would conveniently drop dead, whether the King had hit it or not. Damned fine shots, those covert royal archers. But not really proper hunting.
On into the kitchen/scullery, where there's a not quite convincing display of fake foods (such as fruits and spices) like what Elizabethan aristocracy would have eaten. And then up the stairs (ooh yes, very gentle) to the shooting room on the first floor. There are a couple of appropriately dressed mannequins in the near corner, as well as a box of clothes so that children (and childish adults) can attempt to dress themselves similarly. It's quite an empty room otherwise, and therefore not especially easy to imagine as the heart of the royal hunting party's festivities. At least the view from the window is pretty much as Henry might have remembered it (apart from the golf course where the deer would have been kept, that is, and a rather out-of-place suburban dwelling nextdoor).
