Stratford's post-Olympic zone continues to grow and change. Here are some updates from the southern half of Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park.
This is one of the reasons Crossrail is late - the Pudding Mill substation. When the power was switched on in November last year two of its transformers blew up, which wasn't in the plan, and delayed the testing of trains in the tunnels by four months. Other issues like incompatible signalling and incomplete stations have proved more intractable, but Pudding Mill didn't help. Crossrail's current worksite at the tunnel portal is accessed through an anonymous door beneath the railway bridge to the the north of the DLR station.
This is Bream Street, one of the new housing developments on land flanking the Olympic Park. Specifically it's at Old Ford Lock, opposite (and overshadowing) the former lockkeepers cottages used for C4's Big Breakfast. It's being built across the yard of Foreman's salmon smokery, previously the fabled 'Fish Island Riviera' during London 2012. The development includes 170 canalside homes, plus 22 affordable homes whose pauper purchasers will only be afforded adjacency to the street. According to the planning summary this is "outstanding architecture", but in truth it brings yet more brick-vernacular uniformity to the banks of the River Lea.
Where the warehouse studios at Vittoria Wharf once stood, the gap knocked through at the start of the year is being transformed into a new footbridge. Bridge H16 is intended to relieve the footbridge a short distance to the north which is about to be upgraded to deliver vehicles to the quieter end of Fish Island. The new bridge lands between the Bobby Moore Academy, primary version, and its sports pitches. As its abutment edges ever closer to the towpath, and workers with diggers continue to busy themselves, expect to see the span extending across the river in the New Year.
Moored opposite the end of the Hertford Canal, close to White Post Lane, is Barge East. This 114-year-old Dutch sailing barge is home to an "outdoor bar and kitchen" opened by three childhood friends earlier this year, and provides the first refreshment option for future residents of the non-existent suburb of Sweetwater. It looks cool, if perhaps pricey, with a 2 course Sunday roast starting at £22. The website boasts "the sunniest terrace in London", "the most magical eating and dining destination in London" and "there is no better waterside food and drink venue in London", so only visit with a huge pinch of salt.
What Boris nicknamed Olympicopolis, now known less prosaically as East Bank, is about to take its first steps towards construction. This tongue of land lies between Carpenters Road and the City Mill River, just to the north of the aquatics centre, and has hosted several fairgrounds and one-off events during its post-Olympic fallow phase. But last week its riverside path was sealed off and heavy blocks have been laid around the perimeter ready to support a pre-construction wall. The BBC are coming, and the V&A, and the Smithsonian and a lot of flats, but for now it's just a few portakabins at one end of a featureless void.
The construction of East Bank requires Carpenters Road to be closed for a number of years, starting on the first weekend in January. And that means the bus which currently runs along it, the 339, needs to be rerouted around the other side of the Olympic Stadium instead. After the bus stop by the Aquatics Centre it'll double back up the Loop Road (now called Sidings Street), rejoining the original route at White Post Lane. Along the way it'll serve two new schools, which is useful, and a university which hasn't been built yet, which isn't.
TfL's consultation for the re-routing confirms that 2% of existing passengers will be inconvenienced, that bus journeys will now take 1-2 minutes longer and that buses will still need to be diverted when there's an event on in the stadium. They also apologise that there won't be an eastbound bus stop outside the new secondary school due to "lack of space and other obstacles". I took a look and basically there's no pavement, otherwise the playground would have needed to be smaller, so pupils will need to saunter up the road to the UCL East bus stop instead. Last time I looked, no new bus stops were in place. The diversion begins on 29th December.
For a more enjoyable ride, pick up an electric scooter. Global start-up Bird have a presence at Here East, and have been offering a trial route up and down the park from the edge of the International Quarter. It's only possible because QEOP is private land, and because a GPS-lock prevents you riding it elsewhere. You have to download the app, it's only a short-term trial, and I think you have to pay. I didn't sign up, but I did see numerous scooterers (of all ages) having a whale of a time careering along the paths singly and in formation (and entirely ignoring the safety advice about wearing a helmet).
But the majority of its 2.4 million followers never see these conversations, only @TfL's main tweets - on average four or five a day. And something's happened to those over the course of 2018. They've evolved from being tweets about TfL to a more chirpy collection of emoji-filled promotional banter.
To ensure fair representation, I scanned through all 60-odd @TfL tweets from early December 2017 to see what they were about, and sorted them into content-based categories. The most popular category proved to be updates on 'TfL projects', such as the Northern line extension, the pedestrianisation of Oxford Street or resignalling the sub-surface tube lines. One third of @TfL's tweets were about that kind of thing. In second place was what I might call 'health & safety', in particular a pre-Christmas campaign on travelling safely after drinking, and in third place advice about taxis and minicabs. These three categories comprised over half of what was tweeted.
The new Night Overground service also got a fair whack, as did cycling, Christmas travel, ticketing apps and the Congestion Charge. But there were no plugs for unconnected commercial services. There were only a handful of emojis. There was no bants.
I then carried out the same classification on this December's tweets. By my calculations @TfL have tweeted roughly the same number of tweets across a similar period of time, but the breakdown of what's being tweeted has changed dramatically.
In first place, with 20 tweets, is promotional commercial content. 12 of these were for Adidas trainers - the inexplicable campaign linked to the hugely embarrassing non-launch of the Elizabeth line. Five of the 20 were tweeted on Small Business Saturday, showcasing small businesses who work alongside TfL or on TfL premises, which is fair enough. A trio of tweets about Shrek and Harrods were clearly aimed at visitors to the capital. And then there was this unexpectedly blatant plug for a singer's new album...
This tweet's gone down really well, with over 1600 likes and 50000 video views. But under the surface it's a brazen moneyspinner for TfL, with the link in the tweet clicking through to a bespoke connection on the Amazon website.
In second place, with 12 tweets, is content urging you to view the @TfL feed on Instagram. TfL only have 78000 followers on that medium, barely 3% of their audience on Twitter, but also a much higher engagement rate with photos regularly garnering over 1000 likes. It seems somebody at TfL is going all out to maximise cross-platform synergy and user interaction, hence tweets about "what's your favourite transport mode?" and which pet you'd prefer to cuddle on the tube.
And in third place, with 7 tweets, are exhortations to click through to the TfL Experience London blog. If you didn't know TfL had such a thing, that probably shows how much this exposure is needed. The blog's aimed fairly and squarely at encouraging Londoners to get out and travel more, visiting places of interest, going shopping, taking up cycling or going for a walk. There are even quizzes sometimes, on downloadable emoji-sprinkled pdfs. It all fits in nicely with the current campaign promoting Off Peak travel, delivered with a generally light-hearted touch.
As for more serious corporate content, that's taken a lot more of a back seat and comprises no more than a third of this month's tweeted total. For example we've only had two tweets this month about infrastructure projects, rather than last year's 18, as well as three about cycling and this one about the 150th anniversary of the traffic light.
To summarise, a year ago the majority of the @TfL twitter feed was about TfL projects, health & safety and taxis/minicabs. This December, the majority of the @TfL twitter feed has been about commercial sponsors, interacting on Instagram and Experience London blog content.
If it's up to date information on delays, diversions and engineering works you want, no worries, TfL's other bespoke feeds remain untainted and are as useful as before. But its flagship brand, the one with millions of followers, has sidelined the 'worthy' content and is now trying to be your mate rather than offer an authoritative tone of voice.
@TfL's new priority is engagement, rather than information. Twitter is now being used as a gateway to content elsewhere, with far less focus on the organisation itself. When you have an audience of two million it makes commercial sense to try to leverage your subscribers towards more productive messages. And I'd guess a lot of readers are enjoying the new interactive, bantsier face of @TfL. But for others, what they thought they were getting when they subscribed definitely isn't what they're getting now, in yet another example of commercial content drifting inexorably to the fore.
The last Christmas posting date for second class mail, which was yesterday, usually spurs me to get my Christmas cards sorted. I still post cards every year, in part as an annual reminder to former acquaintances that I still exist, but I used to post a lot more than I do now.
» I still send eight cards to people I knew in the 1960s. That's all my immediate family, plus my surviving aunts and uncles, plus all the cousins who now send me a card because their parents no longer can. Also on this list is my godfather, who must be pushing 80 but still remembers every birthday and Christmas without fail.
» I only send one card to someone I first knew in the 1970s. That's because all my friends from primary and secondary school have lost touch, the absence of digital communication one key reason our connections inexorably faded away.
» I send six cards to people I first knew in the 1980s. Mostly that's university friends, now all grown up with families of their own... the number of appended offspring occasionally increasing year by year. My first job provides the only other recipients, specifically the friendly pair who took me under their wing all those years ago.
» I send eleven cards to people I first knew in the 1990s, making this my most Christmas-cardy decade. Four of those are additional family, because when your brother gets married that introduces in-laws and eventually nephews and nieces. Five of the cards are from my second job, a cheery place to work, with both the boss and the secretary still on my annual list. And the final two relate to job three, a less cheery period but with a couple of connections shining through.
» I only send two cards to people I first knew in the 2000s. That number used to be over fifty when my team at work was huge, but repeated downsizing put paid to that, and the only former colleagues I'm still in regular contact with aren't really the card-sending sort.
» And I send no cards to people I first knew in the 2010s. People you're friends with online don't tend to be the cardboard-rectangle-sending type. Must try harder.
That's 28 cards in total, which might be far more than you send, or far fewer. But it's still enough to force me to spend at least an hour on the annual card-signing ritual and its envelope-completing routine.
The process involves looking at the list of people I sent a card to last year, and deciding who gets one this year. Generally if I sent them one last year and they sent me one, they get another. Sometimes if I sent them one last year but they didn't send me one I still send another, but if non-delivery occurs two or three years in a row I stop. When communication's only ever annual it's hard to know whether you're sending a card to someone who's moved out, someone who's moved on or someone who simply doesn't send Christmas cards any more.
Because my list's stayed pretty static over the years, several of the addresses are peculiarly hardwired into my brain. When I start to write my aunt's envelope I know I'm going to stumble over the end of her postcode, and 6QJ gets me every time. When I start to write Robert's envelope I remember that his is the one whose postcode looks like it starts with POLO. And when I get to Jane's envelope I always remember that the diplomatic thing to do is not to write a surname because her post-divorce status has never been fully addressed.
Checking my complete Christmas card list, the counties receiving the most cards are Norfolk, Bedfordshire, London and Essex. Jobs and family explain most of those, boosted by a couple of uni friends who coincidentally ended up in the same place. The only other county getting more than one card is Suffolk. I manage one to Kent, one to Devon, one to Gloucestershire and one to Greater Manchester, but my overall geographical spread shows an appalling bias towards the southern half of the country.
As is usual these days, the stamps I stuck on the envelopes cost rather more than the cards inside. A pack of 12 second class stamps costs a smidgeon under £7 these days, whereas 40 years ago a dozen would have come in for less than a quid. No wonder so many people send e-cards or nothing these days. There again, normally when I pop round to the post office at Christmas I have to join a lengthy snaking queue of long-distance-senders and parcel-balancers, but this year I walked straight to the desk and got served straight away.
To the half dozen of you who read the blog and also get a card, watch your letterboxes. The annual ritual is ticked off for another year.
Please buy my new book Bus Stop M, The Complete Compendium
This fantastic stocking filler brings to life the fascinating story of one of the capital's most iconic transport icons.
Thrill to a tale of reconstruction, bureaucracy and project management. Relive the amazing period when Bus Stop M was dynamic infrastructure in motion. Then bring yourself right up to date with the current state of the most famous bus stop in the entire E3 postcode.
All this for only £12.99, plus postage and packing. It's M-agnificent!
In chapter 1 we cover the driving force behind Bus Stop M's birth - the implementation of a segregated Cycle Superhighway. The book opens when CS2 was just a blue stripe on a road and none of the subsequent tumultuous changes were afoot. But the need to drive a separate cycle lane behind a trio of bus stops on Bow Road soon set in train a domino effect which led to the entire chain of events which subsequently followed.
In chapter 2 we investigate the reshuffle that saw the original Bus Stop M disappear before Bus Stop G got dug up which meant all buses stopped at Bus Stop E instead but then bus stop E got closed when Bus Stop G reopened using the bus stop pole from the original Bus Stop M leaving just one bus stop called Bus Stop M where Bus Stop G used to be. It's simplicity itself, and all fully illustrated.
In chapter 3 we detail the cavalcade of follow-on errors which transpired because Bus Stop M's electronic systems failed to be updated in a timely and correct manner. Remember how announcements on board passing buses suddenly gave the wrong name for the stop? And how everything might have worked OK if only somebody hadn't previously diverted buses over the Bow Flyover to save time? We reminisce the entire shebang in comprehensive detail.
Chapter 4 tells a riveting tale of bus stop assets, including the timetables that never appeared and the shelter that wasn't there, until it was there and the timetables did arrive. Who can forget the difficulties caused by not knowing when the next D8 might turn up and where it was going? Now you can read witness testimony in inordinate detail from those who were actually present.
In chapter 5 we take a break from the ongoing narrative and look back at all the bus routes which have stopped at Bus Stop M over the years. As well as the iconic 25, in its bendy and non-bendy incarnations, the full list naturally includes the classic 169A Mile End Gate to Barkingside, not forgetting the complete complement of Green Line Coaches to Bishops Stortford, Brentwood and Corbets Tey.
In chapter 6 it's back to the main story and the incredible five month period during which the bus stop bypass looked finished but somehow wasn't. Gasp as orange barriers popped up to block the emergent bypass. Laugh as cyclists knocked them over to avoid having to ride in the dangerous traffic. Sob as the barriers reappeared in an upright position every morning. You'll love the emotional rollercoaster of the ongoing saga.
Chapter 7 introduces what might have been the climax to the tale as the bus stop bypass finally opened, except that workers then inexplicably turned up and carted the bus stop away on the back of a lorry. The book's amazing cover photo will no doubt have given you the flavour of the slapstick farce which ensued during the four weeks 'M' was absent without leave! Golden days.
Chapter 8 explores the functioning of a bus stop bypass in pedantic detail. In particular we investigate why pedestrians wander into the blue lane without looking, how angry cyclists get when pedestrians blunder into the bike lane without looking, and why on earth this particular bus stop bypass has a gap in the middle which ensures there might not be a kerb in front of the middle doors when passengers alight.
Chapter 9 investigates the innumerable major tourist attractions which can be accessed from Bus Stop M. These include St Mary's, the medieval church in the middle of the road, and the vibrant Nunnery Gallery with its many artistic displays. Alight here also to enjoy the foodie streetfood hub that is the McDonalds drive-through, and to ponder on whether the Kray brothers really did bury the body of one of their long-term enemies in the concrete of the Bow Flyover.
In chapter 10 a series of minor transgressions takes centre stage. The temporary disappearance of one particular bus timetable is but one extraordinary highlight. Then there's the gripping tale of the phantom '205' tile, inexplicably showcasing a bus route that never stopped here. And how could we fail to mention the permanent reallocation of another nearby Bus Stop M to a different letter of the alphabet so as not to confuse spider map users? You'll not want to miss a word of this.
In chapter 11 we investigate the current state of Bus Stop M, now arguably the most optimal bus stop in the environs of Bow Church. Today's passengers enjoy the luxury of a Countdown display screen, borrowed from former-now-defunct Bus Stop E, so are able perch in comfort on the red bench in the secure knowledge that a bus to Stratford will be along not quite as frequently as it used to be. The adjacent litter bin is fully described.
Chapter 12 is unapologetic filler, because otherwise the book would come in under 100 pages and not be worth the cover price. In this enjoyable travelogue we visit all the other Bus Stop M's in Tower Hamlets, from the busy interchange outside Cambridge Heath station to the Blackwall Tunnel's concrete hellmouth. There's also a special surprise as we uncover the only Bus Stop MM in the borough, but you'll have to buy the book to discover where that is!
Chapter 13 invites you to take an onward journey from Bus Stop M. Those drawn to this famous location can enjoy a cavalcade of exciting destinations for forward travel, including Ilford, Oxford Circus and that grim turnaround spot behind Newham General Hospital. If a glass of champagne tempts you, the local Tesco is just one stop away. Alternatively the 108 can whisk you to Stratford International and from there on to Dover, and suddenly Europe awaits!
Finally a forward-looking Chapter 14 looks ahead to the future of Bus Stop M and considers what that future might bring. Discussions regarding a blue heritage plaque have yet to bear fruit, and the Mayor's low emission bus corridor has not yet taken flight, but an updated nightbus map is always a possibility and interactive holographic advertising may only be a few decades away. Finally we consider the potential impact of global warming on Bus Stop M and try to pinpoint the year it will be engulfed by the Lea Estuary.
This is the Christmas gift purchase you need, whether for yourself to treasure as a keepsake forever or as a unique memento for a dear friend.
A strange thing has happened at Bow Road station this month.
There are no longer any tube maps on the platforms.
And it's by no means the only station where that's happened.
You might have seen these heritage panels popping up at stations all across the underground network.
They're rather nice. They cover subjects such as trains, architecture and signalling, and come with a selection of old photos. On the District line, the boards focus on the line's 150th anniversary this year. I've seen several people stop and read the panels with interest. But they all used to be tube maps.
Here's what they used to look like.
These weren't paper posters behind glass, they were vinyl tube maps stuck to a frame. And vinyl maps cost more to produce than paper maps, so it seems TfL have decided not to produce them any more. They have had to produce replacement heritage panels on vinyl this year, which will have cost, but now they'll save money every time a new tube map is released.
To be clear, this isn't every tube map on every platform, just the maps in special frames.
One map on every platform is actually a secret sign which opens up to read "Station Closed 5MPH", and is unlocked as necessary to tell drivers not to stop. When the station's open the sign is locked shut, so all that passengers see is the map stuck on the front... except there's now a heritage panel on the front instead. Other maps along the platform, in ordinary frames, are not affected.
At Bow Road, what's happened is this.
Previously there were two maps on each platform - a tube map, and a tube/rail map showing the wider network. The tube map was stuck to the Station Closed sign, and the tube/rail map was in an ordinary frame. But now the tube map has been replaced by a heritage vinyl and only the tube/rail map survives.
I've checked, and the tube/rail map is the very latest version with dotted lines. That means someone must have come along and deliberately updated one map while covering over the other. The more complicated map remains, so travellers aren't completely lost, but I'd argue that the simpler map showing TfL services is more appropriate and should be displayed instead.
I wondered how widespread tubemaplessness is, so I went exploring to find out. I visited every station on the District line between East Ham and Embankment, every station on the Charing Cross branch of the Northern line between Waterloo and Mornington Crescent and every station on the Central line between Oxford Circus and Mile End. It's a complicated mess, I tell you.
DISTRICT: East Ham to Embankment (17 stations)
The first thing I noticed is that not every station suddenly has blue heritage panels.
Blue heritage panels: East Ham, Plaistow, West Ham, Bromley-by-Bow, Bow Road, Stepney Green, Whitechapel, Mansion House, Temple, Embankment No blue heritage panels: Upton Park, Mile End, Aldgate East, Tower Hill, Monument, Cannon Street, Blackfriars
Every station platform has a Station Closed sign, but it turns out there are two different types and only one type has been converted. One type has a frame on the front you can put a paper map in, so it still has a paper map in it. Here's one at Tower Hill.
This type often has a green stripe on the metal down one side. I also found one at Blackfriars, so I think this is the newer of the two styles. But the other, older type doesn't have a frame on the front, so its tube map always had to be stuck on. It's this older type whose maps have been covered up, and they're located seemingly randomly across the network.
A lot of tube platforms used to have more than one tube map along their length, so covering over one of them hasn't created a problem. East Ham, West Ham, Mansion House, Temple and Embankment are examples of these. But some other station platforms only ever had one map, so covering that over wasn't a good move. Here are the District line stations with issues...
Plaistow: The eastbound platform only had one tube map, but no longer has any maps at all. Bromley-by-Bow: The eastbound platform only had one tube map, but no longer has any maps at all. Bow Road: Both platforms had a tube map and a tube/rail map, but now only have a tube/rail map. Stepney Green: The eastbound platform only had one tube map, but no longer has any maps at all. Whitechapel: Both platforms had a tube map and a tube/rail map, but now only have a tube/rail map.
NORTHERN: Waterloo to Mornington Crescent (9 stations)
Again, a right mixture.
Blue heritage panels: Waterloo, Embankment, Goodge Street, Warren Street, Euston, Mornington Crescent No blue heritage panels: Charing Cross, Leicester Square, Tottenham Court Road
And again there are several platforms which previously only had one tube map so now have none.
Waterloo: The southbound platform has a tube/rail map and a Night tube map, but no longer a tube map. Embankment: The northbound platform only had one tube map, but no longer has any maps at all. Warren Street: Both platforms had a tube map and a tube/rail map, but now only have a tube/rail map. Mornington Crescent: The southbound platform only had one tube map, but no longer has any maps at all.
It's the platforms which only ever had one map on display that surprise me most. Someone made a high level cost-cutting decision to cover over every vinyl tube map without considering it'd leave some platforms with no tube map at all. The northbound platform at Embankment is a prime example - part of a busy interchange, but no longer offering any means for passengers to follow their journey ahead.
I also checked the Victoria line platforms at Warren Street, and these were the same as the Northern. Every platform at Warren Street originally had a tube map and a tube/rail map, which was fine, but now only has a tube/rail map. What were they thinking? I'd suggest they weren't thinking at all.
CENTRAL: Oxford Circus to Mile End (9 stations)
Here we go again.
Blue heritage panels: Holborn, Liverpool Street, Bethnal Green No blue heritage panels: Oxford Circus, Tottenham Court Road, St Paul's, Mile End Blue heritage panels on one platform only: Chancery Lane, Bank
That's three stations with the old style Station Closed signs, with maps covered over, and four stations with the new style Station Closed signs, so no change. At the other two stations it's a mixed picture. Here are the problem five.
Holborn: Both platforms had a tube map and a Night tube map, but now only have a Night tube map. Chancery Lane: The eastbound platform had a tube map and a tube/rail map, but now only has a tube/rail map. Bank: The westbound platform has a tube/rail map and a Night tube map, but no longer a tube map. Liverpool Street: The eastbound platform has two Night tube maps, but no longer a tube map. Bethnal Green: Both platforms had a tube map and a tube/rail map, but now only have a tube/rail map.
Holborn is bad. By removing all the tube maps from the Central line platforms, passengers can now only check a patently suboptimal Night tube map. Liverpool Street is absurd. The eastbound platform now only has two Night tube maps, one at each end, but nobody thought to replace either of them with a tube map instead.
And Chancery Lane is awkward, because the vinyl tube map on the westbound platform is still in place. At all the other stations I visited every vinyl tube map had been covered over, but the Overnight Heritage Panel Update Squad somehow missed the westbound platform at Chancery Lane. That's how I managed to show you a photo of a vinyl tube map at the start of this post. If it is ultimately covered over, will the only map on the platform still be the existing tube/rail map, or will someone twig that a replacement tube map might be more useful instead?
I visited 72 platforms altogether, of which 22 no longer display a tube map and five no longer display any maps at all.
If you're the "Ah but..." type you may already have starting writing in the comments box "Ah but pocket maps are available in stations". Yes they are, but by the time you reach the platform they're on the other side of the ticket barrier so you're not going to go back and get one. You might also be typing "Ah but everybody has an app on their phone these days", except that not everybody does, and looking at a big map on a wall is hugely easier than scrolling round a small one on your phone.
Of course TfL's map-covering decision comes down to a lack of money, and is another example of budget-squeezed penny-pinching. Vinyl maps cost more to produce than poster maps, so vinyl maps are no more. Adding a replacement frame further down the platform would cost money too. And nobody intends to replace the old Station Closed signs with the newer model because their primary purpose is to slow trains, not to provide a frame for maps. But the underlying problem isn't money, it's is a failure to spot that covering over hundreds of tube maps might have consequences on certain platforms - a lack of foresight coupled with zero mitigation.
I'm surprised that vinyl tube maps which were perfectly usable two weeks ago have suddenly been deemed unfit for purpose and lost from sight. I'm bemused that these maps have been covered over on platforms where no alternative map exists. And I'm astonished that nobody thought to rationalise the maps displayed in other frames where appropriate, which has resulted in numerous platforms no longer displaying a tube map at all. Best grab one from the ticket hall, just in case.
Update from TfL's Senior Press Officer: "We have noticed with interest your blogpost this morning about the new heritage boards at stations. Just so you are aware - we are working to put Tube maps up at any platforms that no longer have one due to the new heritage boards. Additional poster frames are also planned to be installed at stations in the coming weeks. And just for the avoidance of doubt - this was all planned prior to your blogpost this morning."
And he adds: "I think it was just due to scheduling (we had the vinyls ready but we're still waiting for the replacement tube maps to be printed and distributed)."
Having "the vinyls ready" doesn't excuse using them prematurely, but at least some mitigation is on its way. If you do spot any new tube maps on the affected platforms at Plaistow, Bromley-by-Bow, Bow Road, Stepney Green, Whitechapel, Waterloo, Embankment, Warren Street, Mornington Crescent, Holborn, Chancery Lane, Bank, Liverpool Street or Bethnal Green, please pop back to this post and let us know.
At the very start of 2009, I askedmy readers which High Street stores they thought might not see out the year. This was at the start of the recession, during the death throes of the mighty Woolworths, at which point it felt like no chain was safe. It's now the end of 2018, one tempestuous decade later, and I thought I'd see how we fared.
My readers were duly pessimistic, and came up with the following 30 stores that might not be long for this world. I ordered their suggestions with the biggest names at the top and smaller fry at the bottom. I've now updated that list with the dates that companies did actually fall into administration (and removed a few links which no longer work).
Five out of 30 no longer trade. I'd say that's impressively few, or maybe we were just bad at predicting the most vulnerable stores. Well done to Henry, Red Dalek, Lyle, Embo and, er, me.
First to tumble was booksellers Borders in November 2009. Books were first up against the wall in the digital economy, assaulted by e-readers and online retail, and yet Waterstones has managed to survive and still has over 250 shops. 2012 saw the end of JJB Sports, engulfed within the Sports Direct empire, and of electrical retailers Comet. Blockbuster fell at the start of 2013 and few were surprised, indeed the market for on-demand digital films has since proved unstoppable. And BHS was the biggest casualty of all in 2016, downed by High Street inertia and a succession of greedy thieving bosses. But that's the lot.
Six other stores in the list entered administration but didn't die. Oddbins stumbled in 2011 and were bought out by the European Food Broker group, their high street presence now greatly reduced (and mostly London-based). Blacks slipped briefly into administration later that year purely as a means to allow JD Sports to buy them out. In January 2012 Peacocks went under but was bought out by Edinburgh Woollen Mill, then Clinton Cards defaulted in May becoming Clintons in the associated buyout. HMV and Jessops both called in the administrators in January 2013 - a brutal month. HMV was bought out by restructuring company Hilco, and Jessops by TV Dragon Peter Jones, trading today as Jessops Europe Limited. Entering administration isn't always the end.
The other 19 stores on the list have avoided administration, although some have come close. Homebase had a terrible time after it was sold to Australian DIY chain Bunnings and was eventually unloaded for £1. Blue Inc placed one of its subsidiaries into administration in 2016, and is reported to be on the verge of collapse at present. Mothercare closed 50 of its stores earlier this year to stave off financial woes. Debenhams are also desperately slimming down, which makes the new store they opened in Watford last month somewhat inexplicable.
Then there are the companies which collapsed but which my readers didn't predict, however obvious their plight looks now. Nobody picked Maplin, the electrical bazaar which ceased operations this summer, nor Toys R Us which went under in the spring. House of Fraser really ought to have been included, even though they haven't downsized to their doom just yet, but who would have guessed that Poundworld would go first?
Our high street retailers have actually been quite resilient over the last decade, even if they have had to slim down and cut back to survive. The next ten years may not be so benign, indeed one bad Christmas could be enough to tip one or more well known names out ofexistence. You may not miss them, as you sit and wait for yet another gift delivery to arrive, but their customers and staff will. And I wonder who'll go next...
ENGLISH HERITAGE:Danson House Location: Bexleyheath DA6 8HL [map] Open: 10am-4pm (Sundays only) (but Thursdays only in winter) Admission: £7 (half price to EH members) Website:bexley.gov.uk/services/visitor-attractions/danson-house Four word summary: splendidly restored Palladian mansion Time to allow: a good hour
In 1995 English Heritage decided Danson House was the most at-risk property in southeast England and in danger of imminent collapse. Consequently they stumped up a £4m grant, repaired the roof and restored the interior, with the intention of creating a heritage attraction of which Bexley could be proud. Ten years later the Queen dropped by for the grand reopening, but local residents never flocked in the numbers hoped, and the building has been recently repurposed. Thankfully Danson House is still open once a week for guided tours, and I can confirm it's one of the capital's lesser known architectural gems.
This striking Palladian villa was built in the 1760s by Sir John Boyd, vice-chairman of the British East India Company and a rich sugar merchant/slave trader (delete as appropriate). His first wife died during construction, so the building contains several decorative flourishes in tribute to his second (considerably younger) spouse. 100 years later the house was sold to Alfred Bean, the engineer who brought the railway to Bexleyheath with a view to selling off most of his estate for housing. The 200 acres that weren't built on became Danson Park, Bexley's finest landscaped resource, and the council took over management of the house in 1924. Used for municipal offices and storage, it inexorably decayed.
After being restored, the building was placed in the care of the Bexley Heritage Trust in the hope they could make a go of it. But when their grant was cut in 2016 the Trust withdrew, leaving the council with a Grade I listed headache, which they solved by relocating the borough's Register Office. Now when you turn up you may find yourself holding the door open for a parent carrying a newborn, or eavesdropping on a bride-to-be mulling over which room to hire, or chatting with the registrar about how the morning's wedding went. It's brought the building to life, but as your volunteer guide leads you through the waiting area to the first room you may sense this isn't how things were intended to turn out.
The hall still impresses, as was Boyd's original intention. Take time to inspect the romantic detail beneath the architraves and look out for the recesses which once held classical busts. Access from outside is up an unnecessarily broad stone staircase, ideal for showing off bridal trains, and the hall is currently dressed with a Christmas tree to give December weddings a festive touch. If royalty is your thing, the Queen's signature has recently gone on display in a wooden case, along with photos of her signing the book and a brief account of her visit.
English Heritage's interior restoration has been based on a set of watercolours painted by one of the house's Victorian residents. These proved particularly useful in the Dining Room, a sumptuous space whose walls are once again decorated with bacchanalian paintings, gilt mirrors and fruity murals. I imagine many a wedding party guest goes 'wow' when ushered through into their venue. My guide, however, confirmed that the room had looked even more impressive a few years ago filled with period furniture rather than rows of plastic chairs.
Next around the piano nobile is the Salon, an octagonal room with striking blue Chinoiserie wallpaper and a central chandelier. The intricate decorative coving is original, having survived in much better shape than the plasterwork on the ceiling. The marble fireplace was one of several fixtures and fittings rescued from a container at Tilbury docks after the building's last leaseholder, a local builder, mysteriously relocated to the Caribbean. As for the painting hung above, that's a copy of a Claude-Joseph Vernet landscape commissioned by the house's original owner, the original of which hangs in a gallery in Baltimore.
The Library completes the first floor circuit. Those books may not be authentic, but all the cases are, and also the very fine plasterwork above the doors. The main focus of the room undoubtedly is the organ, installed to entertain guests to the original house, hence rather larger than the room deserves. The Bexley Heritage Trust enjoyed holding occasional concerts here, but surprisingly the organ gets even less use in the building's new incarnation because the noise might drown out ceremonies taking place in adjacent rooms.
The central ellipticalstaircase is a proper highlight, spiralling up to a gallery with eight Ionic columns on the second floor. Two upstairs rooms can be hired for ceremonies, so a lift has had to be punctured through alongside the stairs because wedding guests can't be expected to negotiate the narrow swirl of cantilevered steps. I can confirm that the view towards the lake from Sir John's bedroom is particularly fine. Visitors on the guided tour should expect to encounter the full-length mirror the council were asked to provide for the Queen's visit, but are not shown the stationery cupboard they temporarily converted into a lavatory, which was never used.
Topping off the centre of the stairwell is an oval dome, encircled with ornate wooden panels uncovered when the house was restored, and to dizzying effect. Then to end the tour it's all the way down to the basement kitchen, where the servants laboured, and which is much larger than you might expect. It's lightly scattered with the usual collection of Victorian sculleryware, but looked rather different on your TV screens last year when it was used for the Tom Hardy TV series Taboo dressed as a hospital mortuary.
You could top off your tour of Danson House with a visit to Fleur de thé, an independent cafe on the ground floor accessed from the park. Or if "afternoon teas amongst an array of beautiful shabby chic gifts and homewares" isn't quite your style, perhaps you'd prefer the pub in the former stables by the car park, called the Stables. Alternatively the National Trust's top Bexley attraction, Red House, is only a short walk away (although it closes for the winter after this weekend, so a joint visit won't be possible until March). But do add Danson House to your to-visit list... and if only we'd all done that earlier it wouldn't have become the Register Office it is today.
ENGLISH HERITAGE:Cutty Sark Location: King William Walk, Greenwich SE10 9HT [map] Open: 10am-5pm (until 6pm in summer) Admission: £13.50 (£12.15 online) Website:rmg.co.uk/cutty-sark Four word summary: hermetically sealed tea clipper Time to allow: 1-2 hours
First things first. Cutty Sark isn't an English Heritage property, it falls under the auspices of Royal Museums Greenwich. But English Heritage members now get 25% off the admission price, which is almost a coffeesworth at the end of your visit. Unfortunately the website doesn't offer savings on the online price so the reduction has to come off the walk-up fee, but it's still a 17% cut. Alternatively if you have a National Trust membership card that's worth 50% off, so wave that instead.
The last time I went aboard the world's fastest tea clipper it was the 1970s. A photo exists of the family in typically unflattering garb standing on the edge of the dry dock admiring the coppery hull. These days you can't get that close without paying up, as the ship has been engulfed in a frame of steel and glass. Adding a wraparound provides very necessary support to its fragile structure, holding the ship 3m off the ground rather than resting on its keel. But today's Cutty Sark resembles a galleon with a hovercraft's skirt - fabulous for arty photos but of dubious historical integrity.
One thing the restoration permits is a longer tour, first round the boat from the lowest deck upwards, then into the chamber created underneath. The Lower Hold reveals the iron skeleton of the ship and the original timbers which survived the great conflagration of 2006 (by being elsewhere for restoration at the time). It's also where the majority of the tea was stored, which in terms of presentation means a lot of tea crates, tea trivia and tea-related exhibits. That's fair, as what could be more quintessentially English than tea, but it's also easy filler. Halfway along is a short film to watch, the rack of seats doubling up as a tiny theatre where Nicholas Parsons and Alan Davies have performed, which is inspired, but its inclusion means there's even less for the daytime visitor to see.
The Tween Deck, named for interstitial reasons, is positively bright in comparison. It also looks quite empty. Numerous interactive exhibits are scattered along its length to tell the history of the ship, although overall there is a sense of the Cutty Sark's Wikipedia page being stretched as far as it'll go. Meet the Scottish spirit of the figurehead. See bales representing the years the ship was a wool clipper. Explore the cargoes hauled on later journeys before the steamships took over. Listen to an exported piano. Sit on a wobbling bench. The most fun is attempting to steer the ship home from Australia on a digital screen by following the trade winds, avoiding icebergs and the doldrums, although I bet on busier days you have to queue for that.
Up on the Main Deck you get to walk amid the masts and ropework, and to explore the crew's quarters in several bunkbed hideaways. It's no spoiler to reveal that the senior officers lived better than the deckhands. On my visit there were actual shipwrights up the actual rigging, which added a certain frisson, even if when they descended it turned out they were wearing flat caps and safety boots. Others were tackling the renovation of the Monkey Fo'c's'le, which was out of bounds, busy sawing and painting in readiness for next year's 150th birthday. Exploring the length of the deck does give some sense of daily life aboard ship, although any illusion of seaworthiness is of course shattered by looking overboard towards Docklands, M&S Simply Food or Nando's.
When you're done on board, a gangplank leads to a separate lift tower which'll whisk you down to the cavernous gallery underneath. Walk to the very far end to enjoy a display of massed figureheads, and to clamber back to ground level where a 'viewing platform' allows the capture of Insta-symmetrical shots. Alternatively sit with a coffee to admire the keel in all its glory, or look up at what's always been my favourite feature, the Roman numerals painted on the rudder. Elsewhere a few weak displays tell the story of the Cutty Sark brand and of the ship's 21st century restoration. But the majority of the under-ship is empty, because its true worth is as a hireable venue for generating income, as the stash of plastic chairs hidden behind the back stairs confirms.
For Londoners who've not been for years it's worth a look, rather than forever prowling round the perimeter on trips to Greenwich, although the interior exhibitions are rather thin. I think I also chose well by visiting on a December weekday, unburdened by excessive tourist hordes and excitable school trips, allowing me to focus on the great ship and its heritage. It's all too easy to take a cup of tea for granted, overlooking the chain of events which brought the chopped-up leaves to your kitchen. Cutty Sark reminds us that international trade was once a painstaking challenge... and maybe soon will be again.
Special discounts for English Heritage members(London)
» Cutty Sark (25% off)
» Danson House (50% off)
» Dulwich Picture Gallery (2 for 1)
» Benjamin Franklin House (2 for 1)
» Strawberry Hill House & Garden (discount restarts April 2019)
» Hogarth's House (free entry) (even though it's free anyway)
The 2016 referendum split the country almost exactly down the middle, along a fault line which hadn't been tested before.
LEAVE
REMAIN
Unlike most political issues, positions are entrenched. It's obvious that the other side is wrong, and a second Leave/Remain referendum would likely split the country as before.
But now we have three options, and that's potentially even worse.
DEAL
NO DEAL
REMAIN
You can't offer a choice of three in a People's Vote, because none of the outcomes would command a majority.
So eventually the decision's going to have to come down to a choice of two, be that in government, in parliament or across the electorate.
And that's potentially worse still, because which option do you ditch?
DEAL
NO DEAL
If staying in the EU is off the table, the choice is between a fudged compromise and a cliff edge. Obviously one of those is hugely more sensible than the other, but it depends on who you are which one of those it is. In recent polling, offered this particular choice, a majority of those surveyed picked DEAL (because Remainers piled in with the least dramatic option).
NO DEAL
REMAIN
If a negotiated deal is off the table, the choice is between a cliff edge and the status quo. Obviously one of those is hugely more sensible than the other, but it depends on who you are which one of those it is. In recent polling, offered this particular choice, a majority of those surveyed picked NO DEAL (because the priority is to enact the result of the referendum).
REMAIN
DEAL
If exiting without a deal is off the table, the choice is between the status quo and a fudged compromise. Obviously one of those is hugely more sensible than the other, but it depends on who you are which one of those it is. In recent polling, offered this particular choice, a majority of those surveyed picked REMAIN (because Leavers found the Chequers sellout unpalatable).
So we have three options, each of which wins against one alternative but loses to the other.
It's like the political version of Rock Paper Scissors.
An impeccably balanced predicament.
Wherever we end up, and whoever's in charge when we do, it seems the perfect problem isn't going to go away.
It's been two years since I discovered that the Metropolitan line extension had been scrapped.
It's been three years since TfL said the extension would open in December 2019. It's been five years since TfL said the extension would open in December 2016. It's been seven years since the Government gave the go-ahead for the scheme. It's been more than 20 years since trains last ran down the line. It's been over 40 years since the extension was originally proposed.
It's been nine months since TfL washed their hands of the project, and six months since the Metropolitan line extension webpage was deleted from the TfL website. At least Crossrail will eventually happen. This one's dead.
Which is awkward, because it leaves a stripe of disused railway through the suburbs of West Watford, and a series of redevelopment works alongside going ahead regardless. So, it being the middle of December, I've gone for my annualwalk along the route to see what's not been happening.
At the foot of Baldwins Lane, where the new viaduct was planned to launch off from the existing Metropolitan line, no construction work ever happened. That's good news for the Croxley Car Centre, which has had a reprieve, and for Cinnamond (Demolition & Site Clearance; Windows, Doors & Conservatories) who might now be able to refill the far end of their yard. What is happening is that a brand new secondary school is being erected on the other side of the viaduct, across recently-grazed paddocks, but of what should have been the largest engineering project in the village there is no sign.
The former CroxleyGreenstation, whose mothballed branch line made the extension potentially plausible, remains sealed off. It wouldn't be difficult to squeeze between the metal barriers slumped across the entrance, although an extra sheet of red netting has been added since last year so slipping through and climbing the disused staircase wouldn't be easy either. The viaduct which ought to be the centrepiece of the new extension will never span the dual carriageway, nor disfigure the valley. The children's playground by the Sea Scouts hut is still in action, rather than buried under concrete feet. The narrowboats moored beneath the crumbling lattice bridge no longer face eviction.
Cassiobridge station was intended to be built where the former railway bridge crossed Ascot Road. It would have been a spartan affair, to save money, but not building it at all has saved even more. Walk up the alleyway, round the back of what used to be Sun Printers, and you can peer through the metal fence to see where the platforms were supposed to go. Two years ago the vegetation along this stretch had been completely levelled, but a couple of unrestrained summers mean the grass is back in force, some of it head high, with buddleia encroaching from the fringe. The local cat I spotted sitting on the rails is a fortunate recipient of this undisturbed private domain.
But none of this inaction has prevented substantial development works kicking off alongside. The industrial units on the southern side of the embankment have just been demolished, leaving a space large enough for 485 new homes. According to the developer's website these apartments will have "good access to the London transport network", and there will be "restaurants, cafés and shops along a pedestrian boulevard leading to the proposed Cassiobridge station." Those ultimately moving into the 23-storey tower may find a very different environment awaits them, but there is a new Morrisons on their doorstep, and the Croxley Park business estate is easily walkable.
Watford West station should have been swept away by the new extension, but peering down from Tolpits Lane confirms that most of its infrastructure remains. Lampposts painted Network-South-East-red still lead down the steps and along the platform, where weeds are now sprouting up between the paving slabs. The former British Rail single track can still be clearly seen, not quite as clearly as last December, but enough to suggest someone's still popping down occasionally to keep it clear. It's much better than sixyears ago, when the entire cutting was a forest with trees far above road height, but a second abandonment phase is decidedly underway.
The narrow humpbacked bridge on Vicarage Road would have been an odd place to build a tube station, surrounded as it is by a primary school, allotments, a recreation ground and a large electricity substation. Walking to the rear of the adventure playground allows you to encroach on the land which should by now be under construction as the entrance to the eastbound platform, but isn't. On the other side of the bridge are the remains of Watford Stadium halt, substantially intact, including another row of worse-for-wear red lampposts. Had anyone ever been serious about building the Underground extension they'd have made a start on knocking it down to make way for a second track, but nobody ever did because nobody was.
At the end of Stripling Way the cycle path under the dilapidated railway bridge has been fenced off, and local ne'erdowells have scattered a great deal of litter (and a very damp sofa) underneath. What lies beyond is the Mayor of Watford's great development project, formerly Watford Health Campus, now more jauntily referred to as Riverwell. Here the diggers are now out in force between the railway and the hospital link road, readying several acres for a 253-unit residential community for Watford's over-55s. Prospective purchasers will eventually be getting a health club, a swimming pool and a multi-purpose village hall, but what they won't be getting is a train service.
The scale of the intended development is much clearer from Thomas Sawyer Way, a lone road swooping impotently down from the hospital. Everything between here and the football stadium will be swept away to incorporate another 408 residential dwellings. Twelve large warehouse units collectively named Trade City await a full complement of business users. The River Colne feeds through the site within what will eventually be a landscaped trench. And the whole thing is divided by an invisible railway, crossed by a potentially pointless bridge, without any station to drive sustainable growth. It's no surprise that one of Riverwell's proposed components is a 1400-space car park.
The final quarter mile of former railway exits the development zone to follow the back of a Victorian terrace, with vegetation slowly retaking hold. Physically it wouldn't take much to restart the project, just some heavy strimming, but with every extra summer all the work done to remediate the line will start to slip away. The undergrowth is thickest at the junction with the existing Overground, where no attempt at a reconnection was ever made. Indeed there's hardly any actual infrastructure anywhere along the extension to act as evidence for the many months the project was supposedly underway. London may not care, but Watford is feeling the loss.
The Metropolitan line extension is now lost on the bonfire of austerity, its supposed benefits unable to convince its paymasters in an era of financial stringency. Further major projects were relegated to the scrapheap yesterday, or at least heavily delayed, as TfL's annual business plan detailed how they intend to survive the total loss of government grant and a four year fare-freeze. Look around London and there are numerous examples of existing railway lines which'd never pass budgetary tests today, but which nevertheless contribute greatly to those fortunate to live close by. But we no longer live in a society where Nice To Have is good enough, which is why West Watford's linear nature reserve is now a permanent fixture.
