Another birthday has rolled round and I am somehow 61. It's not a milestone birthday like last year but it still feels seismic, nudging me firmly into the 60-something category rather than being merely borderline. At least it's not like 65 where you have to start ticking the last box on questionnaires because that must be repeatedly traumatic, but that day is getting inexorably closer.
As ever I can't do anything about it, merely revel in having been here since 1965 and choose to embrace the opportunities another year brings. I have lunch booked. I have four cards to open. There is cake for everyone.
Have you ever stopped to consider how many people you've shared the planet with?
In other words how many people have been alive at the same time as you, their lifespan overlapping with yours, right up to the present day?
• I never quite overlapped with Winston Churchill because he died five weeks before I was born, but I did overlap with his funeral commentator Richard Dimbleby who died nine months later.
• I never overlapped with T. S. Eliot because he died in January 1965, but I did overlap with Somerset Maugham because he was still around until December.
• I never overlapped with Stan Laurel because his curtain call was a fortnight before my debut, but I did overlap with King Farouk of Egypt because he collapsed over dinner nine days afterwards.
• More marginally I never overlapped with Labour statesman Herbert Morrison because he passed away three days before I arrived, but I did overlap with the cellist Beatrice Harrison because I arrived the day before she bowed out.
Obviously I never overlapped with Julius Caesar, William the Conqueror or Queen Victoria, indeed none of you did either. But some of you will have overlapped with Lawrence of Arabia (died 1935), George Orwell (died 1950) and/or Ian Fleming (died 1964), all of whom I missed. You must have overlapped with David Attenborough, Whoopi Goldberg and Sophie-Ellis Bextor because they're all alive today. But you may not have overlapped with E. M. Forster (died 1970), Noele Gordon (died 1985) and/or Alec Guinness (died 2000) even though I did.
To calculate the number of people you've shared the planet with you need to know two things: i) how many people were alive when you were born ii) how many people have been born since
It doesn't matter how many of those people have since died, they must all have been alive at the same time as you.
So let's work this out to find out how many people have overlapped with me.
i) The global population at the start of 1965 is given as 3,334,533,703. But there's no point in being perfectly accurate because nobody was taking a census on 9th March 1965, so I'll round that off to 3,330,000,000, i.e. 3.33 billion.
ii) The data says 117,837,004 people were born in 1965, i.e. about 118 million. But I also need to add those born in 1966 (117 million), 1967 (117 million), 1968 (122 million) and every calendar year since, right up to all those born in the last twelve months (133 million). I know, I was expecting it to be higher than that. If I bash all those subtotals into a spreadsheet and add them up, I calculate that 8,290,000,000 people have been born since 1965, i.e. 8.29 billion. For comparison purposes that is incredibly close to the world's current population of 8.28 billion, but this is just a coincidence because I happen to be 61 this year.
In summary... i) people alive when I was born = 3.33 billion ii) people born since = 8.29 billion
Total = 11.6 billion
So I've shared the planet with 11.6 billion people. And 11.6 billion people have shared the planet with me.
I won't do the maths for every single year of birth but I will present this table for those of you born in years ending in 0.
year of birth
alive when you were born
born since
shared the planet with
1950
2.5 billion
9.7 billion
12.2 billion
1960
3.0 billion
8.7 billion
11.8 billion
1970
3.7 billion
7.6 billion
11.3 billion
1980
4.4 billion
6.3 billion
10.8 billion
1990
5.3 billion
5.0 billion
10.3 billion
2000
6.2 billion
3.6 billion
9.8 billion
2010
7.0 billion
2.2 billion
9.2 billion
If you were born before that sorry, global population data is harder to come by prior to 1950.
I should also say it's not the case that everyone born in 1950 will have shared the planet with over 12 billion people, only those still alive today.
Perhaps a more interesting question is "how many people will you ever share the planet with?", but that requires knowledge of the future and is thus impossible to answer. We don't know how many years we've got left and we don't know if population growth will continue on a par or be knocked off course by world events. But if we assume a lifespan of eighty-something and a global status quo, then a reasonable answer would appear to be 13 billion for those born in the 1950s, 16 billion for those born in the 1980s and 19 billion for any schoolchildren reading this. A heck of a lot of people, all told.
But perhaps not that many people. Population scientists reckon that about 118 billion humans have been born altogether, this because although early populations were low we've been around for a very long time. The cumulative total was as high as 55 billion by the birth of Christ, the count having started around 190,000 BC, reaching 100 billion around 1850. It also means that only 7% of the all-time human population are alive today, and also that none of us are ever going to overlap with more than 20% of them.
Another interesting thing to consider is the chronological extent of your human overlap.
On the day I was born the oldest human on the planet was JamesKing, a mid-West American aged 110. It's unusual for the world's oldest person to be a man but the oldest woman had died three days earlier and she was only 109. It's verified that James was born in Arkansas on 15th November 1854 and also that he died on 5th June 1967, so we had a good couple of years of overlap. How amazing is it that I overlapped with someone born 172 years ago!
If you were born after 1950 you can check your oldest overlap by checking Wikipedia here. Anyone born before 2018 can claim an overlap with the 19th century.
What I can never know is the extent that I'll overlap with a date in the far future. It's perfectly possible that a child born today will live until 2145, even 2150, and maybe a lot longer if science permits. However I can never know who that child is, nor whether human life expectancy will instead go into reverse, nor whether some Armageddon moment will stop everyone dead. But it'd be reasonable to assume that as I get older my life will overlap with someone who'll see the second half of the 22nd century, which isn't bad when I also overlap with someone who saw the middle of the 19th.
I have shared the planet with over 11 billion people, one of whom was born in 1854, and will hopefully go on to share it with billions more, one of whom should reach 2154. It puts my paltry 61 years in perspective.
Last week the Mayor announced he was progressing the development of the West Orbital Railway, a proposed Overground line linking Hendon to Hounslow. It'd mostly follow an existing freight line but would need four new stations. In the latest move £6.65m has been provided to fast-track a design phase to support a public consultation, expected in the summer. [map][diagram]
And I have questions... 37 questions as it turns out.
1) Is the Mayor going to admit that the original idea came in 2014 under his predecessor? It appeared in Boris's London Infrastructure Plan 2050 as part of a potential outer orbital railway called the R25. 2) Do you remember I described it at the time as "a Mayoral/TfL pipedream, lightly pencilled in for the 2040s", then went out and tried to ride it? 3) Is the Mayor going to remind us that he's already published a West London Orbital – Strategic Outline Business Case, this back in 2019? It was 111 pages long so quite serious, and proposed opening Phase 1 in 2026 (cough). 4) Do you remember I wrote about it in 2020, specifically how the Dudding Hill freight line might be turned orange? 5) The original plan included additional branches to West Hampstead and Kew Bridge. The former's still in the frame long-term ("While this is our initial proposal, it would not prevent services running to West Hampstead Thameslink in the future") but is Kew Bridge permanently binned?
6) Has anybody else actually been out to look at where the new line might go, rather than just regurgitating TfL's press release? Just me then :)
Hendon 7) Hendon station's grim isn't it? An ungated halt accessed via manky steps beside the M1 motorway. It'll need a lot of cash to create an acceptably accessible station. 8) The station has six tracks but only four platforms, so which are the Overground platforms going to be? Two of the four serve slow Thameslink trains and two are whizzed through by fast East Midlands services, so how can they terminate Overground trains in the midst of that? Or are they going to need to build two new platforms on the freight lines, as suggested in a 70-page planning document in 2021?
Brent Cross West 9) This is a 2 year-old station so ought to have been built with an Overground orbital in mind. But how the hell does that work? I've looked at the track layout and the junction leading to the Dudding Hill line is alongside the platforms, not after them. You cannot stop at the station and then bear off along the Brent Curve because you've missed the turning. I mean look. 10) Are they seriously going to have to build two new platforms at a brand new station? This 40-page feasibility document from March 2025 suggests yes they are, sheesh.
Neasden 11) It's almost two miles from Brent Cross West to Neasden. Are the unfortunate folk who live in the middle near Gladstone Park just going to have to watch these useless trains go by? 12) Whatever TfL's schematic map suggests, you can't stop Overground trains at the existing Jubilee line station because the freight line is at least 180m distant. Do they build a new station where the lines cross or a separate station 200m away down Neasden Lane? 13) OK, I've read Brent council's Neasden Stations Growth Area Plan and the chosen option is a separate WLO station. It'd be by the bridge over Neasden Lane on the existing McGovern scrapyard, along with 500 houses in varying highrise blocks. It's fairly horrible round here at present so it'd only be an improvement. But what are the chances of that 2022 redevelopment plan ever coming to fruition? 14) A 200m interchange at street level's not ideal is it? And it's no better at the next station...
Harlesden 15) Again you can't stop Overground trains at the existing Bakerloo line station because the freight line misses it, so will this be one new station or two separate stations? 16) If it's two, how do passengers interchange to the Bakerloo line? Do they have to leave the station and cross Acton Lane or could you squeeze a 100m walkway under the road? 17) And what gets demolished to cram in the new station? A row of houses on Harley Road or the Old Sub-Station on Acton Lane?
Old Oak Common Lane 18) That is a really odd name for the station because the freight line DOESN'T PASS Old Oak Common Lane. Last time TfL proposed a WLO station here it was called Old Oak Common Victoria Road and that would be perfectly possible. What is going on here? 19) Back in 2017 TfL ran a consultation which proposed adding an Old Oak Common station on the Mildmay line, Richmond branch. I blogged about it at the time and then it all went quiet. But that really was on Old Oak Common Lane, so is the plan to resurrect that AND add a new Overground station on the West Orbital Line? 20) It'd be an expensive option building two step-free stations in essentially the same place, plus they'd have to build a walkway across both tracks to remove severance. Does Sadiq really have the money for this? Or will the huge HS2 hub get just one Overground station on the least useful line? 21) Most of the surrounding area is currently an HS2 development wasteland but a Victorian street called Midland Terrace is currently in the optimum spot for a WLO station so do any houses have to be demolished? 22) TfL's route diagram shows an interchange to North Acton station, but that's at best an 8 minute walk. Are a lot of the promised interchanges on this line really just annoyingly long walks? 23) Also this station's only ¾ mile down the line from Harlesden station, and yet earlier the WLO had a 2 mile gap. Are these intervals annoyingly sub-optimal?
Acton Central/South Acton 24) These are two existing stations on the Richmond branch of the Mildmay line. It'd be great if they got twice as many services BUT by squeezing extra trains through here, might the new line just make the old line less reliable? 25) There are also level crossings at either end of this stretch. Won't bringing the barriers down twice as often cause huge severance locally? Indeed the 2025 feasibility document suggested the crossings would need to be closed to traffic as much as 70% of the time and thus the only practical solution is to close them entirely and add pedestrian/cycle bridges. Local drivers would despise that!
Lionel Road 26) Brentford FC's new stadium was built inside a triangle of railway lines and the plan is to build this new station on the northern edge. But won't it now be impossible to squeeze a westbound platform up against the accessway to Gates J, K and L? 27) Presumably the station building would have to be built opposite, where the empty Sega Building now stands. Is this actually factored into the redevelopment proposals? 28) Lionel Road is a pedestrianised backstreet. Wouldn't it be better to call this station Brentford Stadium, then everyone would know where it was? 29) There's already a station 100m away which is Kew Bridge. Both will have trains to Hounslow, but how will the public know which of the two to wait at?
Brentford/Syon Lane/Isleworth 30) These stations currently have half-hourly trains to Waterloo and Weybridge. Residents will love getting four more trains an hour because that could be transformative, but do any of them really want to go to Harlesden, Neasden or Hendon? Central London's really where it's at.
Hounslow 31) Where precisely are trains going to terminate? They can't hang around on either of the two existing platforms because other trains need to pass through. Is part of the Inwood Business Park going to be compulsorily purchased for a third terminating platform? 32) It may be called Hounslow but it's not that near the town centre - two Piccadilly line stations are much closer. Will local residents really find this new orbital connection useful?
33) This new line is really going to make a mess of the west side of the tube map, isn't it? 34) According to the leader of Barnet council, "by filling a major gap in the public transport network it will give our residents faster, more sustainable access to everything West London has to offer." Do you genuinely believe that bolx, Barry, or are you just overblowing the whole thing? 35) The new Overground line will need a new name. We're told they'll "consider the communities along the route as well as local heritage and history to find a suitable name that showcases London's rich diversity and culture." In other words it's entirely unguessable at this stage so let's not try yet, eh? I'll run a sweepstake later. 36) Is there a worse use of the word 'soon' than Secret London's recent headline "London’s Transport Network Could Soon Be Getting A New £700 Million Overground Line"? Tone down your ludicrous hyperbole, Katie. 37) If planning for the West London Orbital goes well it'll be 'late 2027' before TfL make a decision on progressing the project and the line might then open in the 'mid-2030s'. Given it's been on the drawing board for a decade already, and given some of the new stations look quite tricky to build, and given some of the interchanges are definitely sub-optimal, and given the fact the public coffers will only get emptier, wouldn't you agree that 'late 2030s' or 'never' would be a more likely prediction?
If you have a birthday or special anniversary coming up, why not celebrate with a thrilling London activity?
(I've taken the list of attractions below from the March edition of London Planner, the long-running 100-page free tourist giveaway. Specifically pages 36-38, 'Sightseeing - Activities')
But what do you get, how much do they cost, and could you persuade me to try any of them?
(For price purposes I'm assuming a booking date of Monday 9th March, two days hence)
Sightseeing - Activities
The Chimney Lift(formerly Lift 109) The gist of it: This is the one where you take the scenic lift to the top of Battersea Power Station's northwest chimney for a "pig's eye" view over west London. What you get: A walk through a virtual office, an interactive wall to poke, a 360° film, an ascent inside a replica industrial chimney to a height of 109m, a chance to gawp at a panoramic view from inside a Wonka-esque glass lift. How long you get: Apparently you get 7 minutes at the top, but the full palaver lasts 30-60 minutes. How much it costs: £24 on the day but some £16 slots if you book early. £1.50 transaction fee applies, so £17.50 minimum. Various additional upsells. Would I try it? Maybe yes.
The Dare Skywalk The gist of it: This is the one where you climb Tottenham's new stadium to the cock up top for a view over north London. What you get: A safety briefing, a harness fitting, an exposed walkway to climb (angle of ascent 14°), a chance to get up close to the golden cockerel, a brief looping glass walkway 47m above the pitch, a cafe in the media room on the way out. How long you get: 90 minutes (including safety briefing and de-kitting). How much it costs: £48 on the day but £40.80 if you book in advance. Would I try it? Up the Spurs? Not a chance.
F1 Drive London The gist of it: This is the one where you ride go-karts underneath Tottenham Hotspur's South stand, pretending this has something to do with proper motor racing. What you get: A balaclava, 15 minutes in an "F1®-inspired" kart whizzing round a 500m track with 17 turns (5 left, 12 right), "cutting-edge steering wheel", LED display with live data, sound effect of 2023 F1 engine, simulated commentary, admittance to fan zone overlooking race area before and after, chance to buy £10 nachos. How long you get: 15 minute practice session OR 15 minute qualifier and 15 minute 'Grand Prix'. How long you get: £40 for the former, £75 for the latter (plus 15% off booked in advance, i.e. £35 or £63.75). Would I try it? I would be rubbish at it, so wasted cash.
Ifly The gist of it: This is the one where you go to The O2 to skydive in a tubular updraught (which admittedly you can also do in several non-London locations). What you get: Flight training, pre-flight "gear-up" (helmet, flight suit and goggles), lean into some whooshy air, brief flight with instructor, opportunity to buy photos and videos. How long you get: Each flight lasts 50-55 seconds, minimum two flights. How much it costs: 2 flights from £45.99, 4 flights from £73.99 (plus £3 booking fee, so essentially £49). Expect to pay double on weekend afternoons. Would I try it? I weigh less than 18½ stone so I could, but I wouldn't.
Dangleway The gist of it: This is the one where you board Boris's ego and cross the Thames aboard pseudo public transport. What you get: A seat in a glass gondola, a jiggly crossing, views over east London. How long you get: Just under 10 minutes. How much it costs:£7 for a single crossing (50p off for a return) Would I try it? Obviously yes, although I've only bothered once since 2017.
Helix The gist of it: This is the one where you descend the big red tower in the Olympic Park down a zippy corkscrew slide. What you get: 30 second lift ascent, chance to stand on viewing platform and enjoy views over east London, mat to sit on, 178m of steel tube, 12 loops at up to 15mph, optional reaction cam. How long you get: 45 minutes overall, but the descent takes only 35 seconds. How much it costs: £17 plus £5 admin fee, i.e. £22 (or just £14 to enjoy the viewing platform and walk down). Costs £5 more at weekends. Pitiful discounts for booking 30/60/90 days in advance. Would I try it? I paid £9.95 for an annual pass in 2015, went up lots and haven't been back since. The slide is not for me.
Up at The O2 The gist of it: This is the one where you pretend to be a mountaineer crossing a millennial tent to enjoy views over east London. What you get: A protective suit to wear, boots if you need them, a cable to attach yourself to, a bouncy climb (occasionally steep), a break at the top (photos permitted, drinks optional), back down and unclip. How long you get: All the guff says 90 minutes, but no more than 20 up, 20 at the top and 20 down. How much it costs: From £37 (but £42 at weekends). Would I try it? Never been interested, it's only 52m up and I prefer a proper hill.
Summit The gist of it: This is the new one where you climb over the top of Alexandra Palace, the claim that this is "the UK’s highest roof walk" cheekily based on height above sea level rather than actual elevation. What you get: A safety briefing, a harness, quite a lot of stairs inside, more stairs across the roof, a tiny platform at the summit beneath the Angel of Plenty, release your phone from the hired pouch (£7.50 extra), stairs back down. How long you get: A 60 minute experience with 10 minutes at the top. How much it costs:£28 (but £30 at weekends, and not actually open this Monday) Would I try it? I reckon you get a good enough view from Ally Pally at ground level.
By price
• Dangleway: £7
• The Chimney Lift: £17.50
• Helix: £22
• Summit: £28
• (London Eye: £33)
• F1 Drive London: £35
• Up at The O2: £37
• The Dare Skywalk: £40.80
• Ifly: £49
By duration
• The Dare Skywalk: 50 minutes?
• Up at The O2: 50 minutes?
• Summit: 40 minutes?
• (London Eye: 30 minutes)
• F1 Drive London: 15 minutes
• The Chimney Lift: 13 minutes
• Dangleway: 9 minutes
• Ifly: 1 minute 45 seconds
• Helix: 35 seconds
For my next alphabetical visit to unsung suburbs we're off to Bedfont, specifically East Bedfont because then I can count it as an E rather than a B. We're in the borough of Hounslow on the Staines Road, very close to Heathrow Airport but to the south, which is good news for residents because the runways are west-east so hardly any streets are overflown. You'd have heard of the place if its local tube station was called East Bedfont but instead it's called Heathrow Terminal 4, which is bad news for residents because it's extremely hard to walk there and the fares are sky high.
A word about the Bedfonts
These days the local settlement is known almost exclusively as Bedfont. However the parish was originally called East Bedfont, there being a smaller hamlet to the west called West Bedfont. Later came New Bedfont, but that was tiny and almost in Hatton. Meanwhile BedfontPowderMills used to be a mile east of East Bedfont but these days that area's known as North Feltham. Today my intention is to stick within the traditional parameters of East Bedfont as was, plus it turns out West Bedfont has been in Surrey since 1965 so it's ineligible for this feature anyway.
The most extraordinary thing in Bedfont is the church of St Mary the Virgin, or more specifically the two topiary peacocks out front. Just amazing.
They date back to 1704, as you may be able to infer from the date '1704' trimmed into the base of the leftmost peacock. They're supposed to represent two local sisters who once dismissed a suitor so snootily that he took the mick by clipping two peacocks into the yew trees outside the church. Eventually the villagers lost interest in maintaining them and the shapes faded, but not before Thomas Hood (1799-1845) had written a poem about the pair. Much later a local man remembered the poem, contacted the vicar and crowdfunded a Dutch topiarist to come over and trim them again. This happened in 1990, as you may be able to infer from the date '1990' trimmed into the base of the rightmost peacock. Anywhere else in London this might be a well-known attraction but Bedfont's a bit of a backwater so the birds fly under the radar.
The church behind is Norman on a potentially Saxon site, and contains a set of medieval wall paintings in splotchy red representing Christ on the cross and separately in heaven. Unsurprisingly with such treasures the front door is invariably locked. The spire looks ancient but is actually a Victorian replacement, while the clock on the front was added for the Diamond Jubilee and still bongs across the village green.
A Roman road passes in front of the church aiming for Staines, where it was possible to cross the Thames, this once the chief route from London to the west country. Several coaching inns plied a trade along the Bedfont stretch including the Duke's Head, the Royal Oak and The Black Dog (where The Four-In-Hand Driving Club used to stop for sustenance). Only The Bell and The Beehive survive, the former now specialising in Indian cuisine and the latter Romanian, and alas neither in their original buildings. Other than the straightness of the road the main evidence of road-based longevity is a battered milestone outside the library confirming that we are XIII miles from Hyde Park Corner.
East Bedfont's unusual in that it has two extant manor houses, both not quite facing the green. The medieval manor's called Pates and is tucked behind the church, while the Tudor's called Fawns and is screened behind a hideous artificial hedge. A more egalitarian proposition is the Fairholme Estate, a loop of 72 almshouses built on the footprint of a former fruit farm in 1934. It was funded from the estate of a pawnbroker's widow from Fulham, confirming that good things can come from being childless, and hides behind somewhat unwelcoming gates. The entire chain of buildings has a continuous unbroken roof, a unique feature which apparently once got a mention in the Guinness Book of Records (although I've looked across several eras and I can't find it).
One of the oldest roads in East Bedfont is called New Road, where at number 63 you'll find the unremarkable final residence of a remarkable man. That'll be Captain Matthew Webb who on 25th August 1875 became the first man to swim the English Channel, reaching Calais from Dover in just under 22 hours. This made him very famous and also set him up for a career of water-based stunts, including long-distance swims off the east coast of America and a lot of floating in pools to beat endurance records. Unfortunately the general public became less and less interested, forcing a downmarket house move from Kensington to Bedfont, and Webb's health became seriously compromised too. For his final exploit in 1883 he attempted to swim the rapids below Niagara Falls for a prize of £12,000, but the whirlpool sucked him down and his body was found four days later.
If you fancy swimming in Bedfont today the Duke of Northumberland's River has better water quality than the Longford River, although it'd be safer to enter neither. Both are artificial channels, the first dug to irrigate Tudor fields and the second as a water supply for Hampton Court 100 years later. Upstream of Bedfont they run virtually in parallel, relocated to skirt the edge of Heathrow Airport, the downstream division coming just after they've passed under Hatton Road. The Two Bridges used to be a narrow pinchpoint with a ford but is now two drabber concrete spans more suitable for heavy traffic. Follow Hatton Road and you soon reach the homeground of table-topping Bedfont FC and also Myrtle Avenue, Heathrow's premier plane-spotting vantage point, but technically both are in New Bedfont and I said we weren't going there, remember.
Easily the nicest spot hereabouts is Bedfont Lakes, a former gravel pit filled in before the millennium to create 180 acres of recreational space. It has a visitor centre, a large lake and a lot of ducks. It has umpteen sinuous paths, not all of which lead back to the car park, and several wooden animal sculptures. It has signs saying dogs must be kept on leads except in one specific corner, a restriction I very much appreciated. And it has two artificial hills, one of which makes a lacklustre pretence of being a castle and the tallest of which has a single compass-toppedstone on its summit. Monolith Hill was supposed to have become the highest point in Hounslow but alas at 29m it's outranked by some nondescript streets near Heston services. The best view was originally of Heathrow directly to the north, but that's since been blocked by trees so I made do with Wembley's arch, Leith Hill Tower and Thorpe Park's new very tall rollercoaster.
Alongside is Bedfont Lakes Business Park, an anodyne lowrise commercial centre set around two large private squares. Cisco have been here since launch and their employees get to enjoy roof terraces with cemetery views and a bespoke bus service to the nearest stations so they don't have to ride with the commoners. Half the remaining units are now empty however, Birds Eye having scarpered to Woking and IBM having been by replaced in 2012 by BP, who have themselves also moved out. IBM's former HQ achieved celluloid immortality in 1997 when it was used as the home of media conglomerate CMGN in the Bond film Tomorrow Never Dies, even if this site effectively has.
A final word in praise of Hounslow council whose 278-page Local List of Heritage Assets proved invaluable in the research for today's post. Every neighbourhood in the borough gets an illustrated list of treasures, some quite lowly, with the Bedfont and Hatton section having 48 entries. I was thus alerted to a plaque for a dead dog, a saw-tooth brick works, a wood-carved owl, the door to a fire extinguisher factory, a noticeboard erected by the Urban District of Feltham, Samuel Gentle-Cackett's chapel and "an interesting circular bench". I also acquainted myself with the institution that is Barry's of Bedfont, an orange-fronted bazaar that usually specialises in hardware, haberdashery, ironmongery, bedding, toiletries and storage boxes but is currently going all out on bedding plants. There's something for everyone in East Bedfont.
The North Wing at St Barts Place: St Barts, Smith Field EC1A [map] Times: 10 to 4 (just Mon and Tue, and first Sun of month) Price: free In brief: art, stairs and hall Web:barts-north-wing.org.uk/go Stay: half an hour
Have you been to The North Wing at St Barts? I think it's a place you might well like to go. A lot of cash has just been spent to make it look great and it does now look fab. Some might go as far as to say "wow!"
St Barts has been a place of health since the year one one two three. Now it's huge but back then it was small so has had to grow to keep up with the pace of change. Much was built fresh when the king on the throne was George Two, and the first part to be built at that time was the North Wing. A man called James Gibbs made the plans, and what a good job he did.
The North Wing is a long block with two floors which has a grand hall up top. It's been used for a lot of things in its time, though more as a place for desks not wards for the sick. But as it got old the roof leaked and the paint peeled and it was not in a good state. So nine years back funds were raised for a full fix and a long deep clean. They scrubbed the stone, stripped the slates and put new paint on the clock. They took out all the glass you look through and took time to mend the frames. They fixed six steel struts so they could gild the roof. They touched up the art with a fine brush, hid pipes and hung some lights. And it's now been five months since they let us back in to gasp in awe at all the work for the first time, so have you been yet? I have now been.
If you know St Barts church near the old meat halls, that's where you head. Go through the arch to the big quad and turn left, the door you need will have a sign in front, then push like the sign says and go in. A man at a desk will say hi and point the way (or at least I met a man here, you might not). There's no need to pay, it's free to go in, but feel free to tap for five pounds if you like. A sound guide to hear facts as you walk round can be hired but I did not pay for that.
In front of you is a sight of pure awe. The whole wall is a large scale work of art, on both sides all the way up the stairs. The man who did this was called Will (he has a last name too but I can't type that, it's too long, but if you know his prints of Beer Street and Gin Lane at the Soane you'll know who I mean). Two scenes are shown with Christ at their heart - in one a lame man is told to walk and in one a half dead man is helped by a Good man who stopped when two priests passed by. These are apt tales for a place of health, and Will's brush has brought the tales to life. Look up and that's great too, not just the fine twirls on the roof but the gold lamp with its ten lit arms. You may be so moved you want to praise all the hard work done but don't clap, the crack team who did this are long gone.
At the top of the stairs there's more. You could go straight on to the Great Hall but I say it's best to watch the film first. This lasts less than one sixth of an hour and tells how the North Wing was built and how they fixed it. Take a seat and watch. If you think the boss of the trust has a well known last name yes, his dad worked with John Cleese in the cult show about a snake, and his son Will is now a big cheese in the world of large scale make do and mend. Sit through to the end of the film and you'll have a good gist of the room that is to come. Then stand up and go through.
This is the Great Hall and great is the right word, a long room with a gold and white roof plus boards on all the walls. The swirls up top are by a French pro called Jean, this his sole U.K. work, and if you look hard you may see eggs, bells, oak leaves and wreaths. As for the boards on the walls these list all those who gave cash to St Barts, loads and loads of them, in long gold lists. It seems those who ran St Barts once used the Great Hall for feasts and meals to raise funds, in the hope that those wowed by the stairs and awed by the room would dig deep and help fund the place. It must have worked.
Health care used to be just for those who could pay, so thank the Lord for kind men who gave alms so that the poor could be cared for and made well. It sure makes you rate the N.H.S. when you see the sums they had to give back then to keep St Barts in the black. Rob Cox Esq, Ben Cole Esq, John Dent Esq; all these men gave the same half ton a long time back, in their case in the reign of George the Third. And these are just three of the scores of men on scores of boards that wrap the walls. We thank them, and the rest.
So rife are the boards that not much room is left for much else. One big frame shows the king with six wives in oils, he the one who let St Barts go on once all the monks were sacked. The spouse of Queen Vic is hung on the side wall, the sum he gave far less than I'd have thought a top world chief could spare. Just one niche has stained glass, this too with buff King Hal at its heart, and I must say it looks great when the sun shines through. But true art is thin on the ground in the Great Hall, the true thrill is the space and not the long long lists of names.
The bad news is the North Wing at St Barts is closed most of the time. You can go in if the day is Mon or Tue but not Wed, Thu, Fri or Sat, and as for Sun it's just the first one of the month. Damn, 1st March has just gone by so you missed that. In more bad news it's closed on the first Sun next month because that's Egg Day so if you have a job your next chance to go in is 3rd May. But if you think you might like to go then do make a note, and yes it's free, as the North Wing is quite some sight to see.
Having spotted I have 14 omissions on Londonist's definitive list of Free Museums In London, I thought I'd better visit two of them. And also one they missed, all on a similar medical theme.
You'll find this one just up the road from Moorgate station inside the HQ of the British Red Cross Society, a 7-storey office block formerly occupied by Allied Insurance. It has excellent opening hours because it's a single room just off reception so can be enjoyed by visitors and members of the public at any time. It's also very dimly lit, which is either to protect the contents or because someone had forgotten to turn the light on.
What you're getting is a whistlestop history of an esteemed humanitarian organisation plus a selection of objects that remind us crises can be challenged with compassion. The Red Cross was originally the idea of a Swiss businessman, our national chapter created during a war in 1870 when Britons weren't involved but thought they could help out. The museum displays a battered Red Cross flag waved during that Franco-Prussian conflict, also a small concertina-type lamp from the earlier Crimean War thought to have been used by Florence Nightingale. When battlefields became more dangerous one tactic was to send millions of food parcels, for example in 1915 a Christmas gift box where non-smokers had the pipe, tobacco, cigarettes and lighter switched for acid drops and writing materials. Prisoners of war received Red Cross assistance too, one particularly evocative item on display being a patchwork quilt stitched by women in a Japanese camp to send secret messages to their husbands in a separate hospital. More recently refugees have been a major focus of the Red Cross's work, not to mention disasters closer to home such as the Gloucester floods in 2007, for which reason the museum displays a big blue can of Tesco new potatoes identical to that which graced my kitchen cupboard at the time. The final case displays a range of bandages and ends with hand sanitiser and a disposable blue mask, jarringly familiar but which one day will be a reminder to future generations of the Red Cross's ongoing adaptability.
The museum won't detain you long but there are also archives beyond, also fresh themed displays in reception, also several former themed displays permanently saved online. I left a little humbler than when I entered, and also convinced that a lot more organisations ought to tuck a museum into their foyer because as PR goes it's an easy win.
Royal College of Nursing Library & Museum Location: 20 Cavendish Square, W1G 0RN [map] Open: 10am - 7pm (until 5pm Sat, closed Sun) Admission: free Subtitle: past caring Website:rcn.org.uk/library/Museum-and-Events Time to set aside: 15+ minutes
The RCN exists to support and represent the nursing profession so it makes sense their London HQ would have a library, and this includes an intriguing museum space that's less paraphernalia, more attitudes. Don't aim for the main door on Cavendish Square, head round the side to the entrance shared with the Trampoline café. Be sure to ask carefully at the desk where precisely the exhibits are because they could be round the liftshaft or downstairs in a separate room at the far end of the library or both, and even now I'm not entirely sure.
If I've got this right the museum focuses on temporary themed exhibitions rather than a permanent display, these readily packed up so they can be sent to the RCN's other hubs in Cardiff and Edinburgh. The current theme around the liftshaft is The Art of Nursing (subtitled Creativity, Resistance, Renewal), a lot of which is cardboard placards with heartfelt slogans. I loved the full-size knitted nurses by reception representing all eras and grades from District Nurse to Ward Sister, also the stained glass triptych at the foot of the stairs (although I think that's permanent). The main exhibits aim to shatter the stereotype that nurses are quiet women in prim uniforms, comparing their Ladybird book illustration with radical newsletters, proud portraits and proper photos. Florence Nightingale's pioneering coxcomb diagram confirms that nurses can change policy, not just care for the sick.
I've missed out because the latest concurrent exhibition opens tomorrow but you needn't miss out because all the exhibitions are put online, so here's the current one, here's the last one on prison nursing and here's a prescient one on pandemics from 2018. There's more to nursing than the uniform.
Museum of Anaesthesia Location: 21 Portland Place, W1B 1PY [map] Open: 10am - 4pm (weekdays only) Admission: free Subtitle: won't put you to sleep Website:anaesthetists.org/Home/Heritage-centre Time to set aside: up to 30 minutes
Just up the road from Broadcasting House, and not far from the nurses, is where the Association of Anaesthetists has its home. You have to ring the bell to get in and will then be directed down a thin Georgian staircase to a clinical basement corridor, at the end of which is a small two-bay museum. Implements and accoutrements on the left, full-on face-hugging machines on the right. And it's very well done.
The application of anaesthesia took root in 1846 when an American dentist offered ether rather than hypnotism for a tooth extraction. This ended badly because he fluffed the dosage, but the process snowballed globally within a couple of years and soon operations became something you survived, or at least failed to notice the pain. Some of the early equipment is rather intrusive - how best to keep an airway open? - also very varied as several analgesic agents were introduced. But the profession became inexorably better at keeping their patients alive as well as unconscious, so as you work round the cabinets the gizmos get more technical, more reliable and more adaptable to different medical situations. It's not every museum that has drawers labelled Needles, Syringes, Masks and Harnesses, or indeed advice on how best to apply ketamine. The larger machines are displayed in a manner that resembles an overactive operating theatre, and include a valve-pumped device called a Pulmoflator and an electronic emergency ventilator rushed out to service the start of the Covid pandemic. If you were put under during your early life, maybe that Boyles Machine did the donkey work.
I don't think I'd recommend a visit if you're about to go in for surgery, if only because what you'll see here isn't what the NHS now uses. But I came away reassured that the risks are low, the profession is very skilled and the fundamentals have been much refined over the years. The ideal anaesthetic hasn't yet been discovered (fast onset, quickly reversible, no side effects) but we're getting closer, and one day hopefully that knockout discovery will be made.
The website medicalmuseums.org has details of 28 London Museums of Health and Medicine, so if today's trio haven't inspired you hopefully the others will.
Sometimes you just want to go for a nice walk, nothing too taxing, well-connected, municipal-focused, mixed heritage, watery promenades, sculptural interludes, optimistically postwar, retail opportunities, refreshment-adjacent, a bit of a stroll, won't take long. So here's an upbeat loop round the new town of Hemel Hempstead, nowhere near enough to make a day of it but a nice walk all the same. [map][14 photos]
n.b. Imagine a three-petalled flower, or perhaps a wind turbine. That's the shape of the Hemel Green Walk - three approximately equal loops spreading out from the central roundabout.
n.b. The full Hemel Green Walk is 7½ miles long but I'm only doing the northern loop hence just 2½ miles.
n.b. The other loops head out of town to the station and towards Apsley Marina, but the canal towpath looked a bit muddy so I stuck to the all-weather section.
n.b. The Hemel Green Walk is supposed to be available as a lovely-looking fold-out map, but I went to the library as directed and they didn't have a copy, indeed hadn't heard of it. To their credit they looked in several drawers and cupboards but had no luck so I had to make do with a pdf.
Let's start at the Magic Roundabout, Hemel Hempstead's iconic central gyratory. It's six mini roundabouts in one, a big loop that can be orbited clockwise or anti-clockwise with the River Gade flowing straight through the middle. It was constructed in 1973 and many drivers love it, although it's fair to say my Mum wasn't a fan. Alongside used to be the HQ of Kodak, the camera people, who moved into a concretetower in 1970 and moved out in 2006 after film processing faded away. I thought they'd replaced the offices with new flats but apparently they just reclad the exterior and added some extra blocks. An anthropomorphic sculpture in the central plaza has been stacked imaginatively from three reels of film... but we're not going that way, we're heading into town.
Hemel Hempstead was designated a new town in 1947, four weeks after Crawley and six weeks before Harlow.
The sinuous office block that once crossed the main road was replaced in 2005 by a chunky shopping district called Riverside. The anchor tenant was a huge Debenhams which with hindsight was a terrible choice, the largest building now a vacuous shell, since doubled down by the emptying of Top Shop/Top Man opposite. Enough lingers elsewhere that Hemel remains a proper retail draw, mainly thanks to Marlowes, the new town's original postwar precinct. It wasn't always pedestrianised but it feels right that it is, a long swoosh of shops with occasional sculptural infill. On the bend by M&S is A Point of Reflection, a mossy dollop resembling a classical urn, and further up is Waterplay, three acrobatic kids on a plinth representing the sporting vigour of Dacorum.
Dacorum is the name of the local authority hereabouts since 1974.
My favourite civic artwork in Hemel is the Tile Mosaic Map on the end of the Hillfield Road car park (said to be Britain's first multi-storey). It shows the town in relation to neighbouring settlements, each with a caricature of what its famous for, so for example Hatfield has Queen Elizabeth I being startled by a jet airliner, Ayot St Lawrence has a very beardy George Bernard Shaw and Whipsnade has a lion parading on an elephant. It's a shame Watford doesn't get a look-in but that's because the canvas is landscape rather than portrait. Nearby is Development of Man, a four-part evolutionary layer cake in Portland stone with 'Man the Town Dweller' as its pinnacle, and which probably looked more imposing before the charity shop underneath moved out.
The mosaic map was created by Rowland Emett, king of postwar kinetic whimsy.
The Green Walk suggests a diversion at this point to go see where a railway no longer is. This was the Harpenden to Hemel Hempstead branch line, a connection to the Midland Main Line which opened in 1877 and never quite reached the West Coast Main line due to railway rivalry. It closed the same year Hemel was designated a new town, a decision which seems ridiculous today, after which the viaduct across the Gade was demolished to make way for fresh development. Thankfully the seven miles from the old station to Harpenden has been retained as a long-distance path called The Nickey Line, which is certainly an ambulatory quest for another day, but not really worth making a special effort to see on a town centre trail.
This is why Hemel Hempstead's current station is a bloody-annoying mile out of town across a muddy moor.
I hadn't walked this far north before so wasn't fully prepared for the fact that Hemel Hempstead has an old town, a long street with buildings 400 years older than the surrounding residential districts. Of course it does, all the early new towns coalesced around an existing urban heart rather than being conjured up across fields. But this is a properly characterful quarter mile, a narrow climb between jutting buildings, irregular shops and pastel-painted cottages, now with one-way traffic to avoid congestion. More than one Tudor coaching inn still plies a trade, the Olde Kings Arms now offering unlimited pasta on Mondays rather than stabling for 36 horses. Hemel was once renowned for its grain market, the Corn Exchange long since absorbed into the (Old) Town Hall but still with an echoingly evocative pillared undercroft. It's fair to say I was pleasantly surprised.
Henry VIII may actually have stayed at the Olde Kings Arms before it was called that.
Historically Hemel's pride and joy is St Mary's, a notable Norman church on a proven Saxon site. It has flint and Hertfordshire puddingstone in its walls, a slew of stained glass inside and is unmissable on the skyline due to its 200 foot octagonal spire. According to a plaque the spire is 'one of the tallest in Europe', a claim I find hard to match to actual data, although I am willing to believe it was maximal in the 14th century and that it's still the tallest lead-clad timber spire in England. For a good view of the full vertical extent head to neighbouring Charter Gardens, soon to be a riot once the bulbs burst forth, where the gatehouse tower of a Cromwellian knight's manor house still stands.
Henry VIII probably didn't stay at the manor on the night he signed the town's market charter, whatever myth says.
It's now time to head back south again, this time following the river rather than the main streets. When the new town centre was being created the planners realised the Gade would make an excellent recreational spine so left a linear park down one side for recreational purposes. It's a tad more natural at the northern end, this where the splash park, bowls club and general kickabout space can be found. But as the river flows closer to the shops it's been cajoled into a straighter ornamental form, creating a very pleasant and unexpectedly lengthy promenade space called the Water Gardens. This includes gentle weirs, majestic willows and the occasional duck-infested island, with the Gade crossed at regular intervals by a very 1950s-style of low arched footbridge.
The Water Gardens replaced several watercress beds, West Herts once being prime cress-growing territory.
Hemel Hempstead's chief architect was Geoffrey Jellicoe, his original vision being "not a city in a garden, but a city in a park." His signature design is perhaps best seen in these riverside spaces, especially the Flower Garden with its shrubbery arches and geometric walkways, although it's currently too early in the year for the full burst of colour so oddly unphotogenic. The Water Gardens end with a bulbous lake, its shape intended by Jellicoe to resemble the head of a serpent although I doubt most residents have ever spotted the symbolism. Here we find the last of the walk's civic sculptures, a pair of bronze dancers jiving on the surface of the water (title Rock'n'Roll, artist Hubert Yencesse, year 1962). Ahead lies the Riverside shopping centre again, then the six-fold roundabout and that means we're done.
I certainly saw a new side to the new town on this walk, and perhaps you'd enjoy a trip to Hemel Hempstead too.
Sun 1: I sat opposite a scruffy homeless bloke on the District line. "Oh he's asleep." "Oh his fly is open." "Oh is that his...?" "Oh god it is!" "Oh he's shifted slightly." "Oh god it's sticking out more." "I should probably alert a member of staff."
Mon 2: The former Nestlé factory by Hayes and Harlington station is now Hayes Village. The hoardings include the disclaimer 'Photography is indicative only', so if you look beyond you can see it's just the usual stackyflats and nobody is enjoying baguettes and quiche on a stripy picnic blanket. Tue 3: A new borough-specific news portal has launched in East London, the Barking and Dagenham Star, from the team that already bring you Newham Voices, Waltham Forest Echo, Enfield Dispatch, Haringey Community Press and Barnet Post. If you live locally it might be worth keeping tabs on.
Wed 4: Took BestMate for a walk from Kilburn to Hampstead. Near the end we passed through the Branch Hill estate, three Modernist stepped terraces designed by Benson and Forsyth for Camden council, which on completion in 1978 were "the most expensive council houses in England". We may have walked up and down SpedanClose longer than was strictly necessary, sorry. Thu 5: I heard voices through the wall in my kitchen! I have never heard voices through the wall in my kitchen in 25 years of living here. I wondered what the hell my neighbours were up to. My best guess is that there was a workman in one of their cupboards. Fri 6: Ended up in Wimpy after another walk and they upsold me an egg, sausage and bacon muffin without the egg, which is odd because I can't find that particular item on the menu. Cafe breakfasts are a right pain when you don't like eggs.
Sat 7:Streetmap came back after four weeks offline, phew. The reason for its disappearance was that it's based in Cornwall and "Storm Goretti took out our power and internet connectivity". When connectivity was finally restored all the advertising that supports the site was borked and they thought they'd have to shut down permanently, but a crowdfunder has since raised a year's running costs so all is well again, hurrah. Sun 8: Idea for clickbait article: Is this the only London bus route regularly held up by geese on the road? Mon 9: Ooh, a zebra crossing has appeared outside Bow Tesco, so after 25 years I can finally cross safely without forever looking out for supermarket car park traffic. Thanks Ian!
Tue 10: Citing the Online Safety Act, Flickr requested I verify my age via some American app thing. I emailed and said I joined Flickr 20 years ago thus must be over 18, QED. They said they're not allowed to accept that as evidence. The law is mad. Wed 11: I happened to be on the Crossrail platform at Whitechapel as the weekly Fire Alarm test took place. They announced in advance it was a test. However a train then arrived and the doors opened just as the platform lights brightened and the scary message was broadcast. Passengers looked somewhat uncomfortable. The train doors then closed before the announcement that the Fire Alarm test was over. They really ought to be able to time this better. Thu 12: I wonder if this annoys you as much as it annoys me.
Fri 13: Today is the first of three Friday 13ths this year, a total which hasn't happened since 2015 and won't happen again until 2037. Sat 14: I'm reading the new Mick Herron Slough House novel, Clown Town, which is the usual rug-pulling tour de force. Stayed on the train past my intended stop because I still had 2 pages to finish... oh I see, he's just leaving us hanging then. Sun 15: I said I wasn't going to carry on doing this. But I really will stop now.
Enf
10
Harr
10
Barn
10
Hari
10
WFor
10
Hill
10
Eal
10
Bren
10
Cam
10
Isl
10
Hack
10
Redb
10
Hav
10
Hou
10
H&F
10
K&C
10
West
10
City
10
Tow
46
New
43
B&D
10
Rich
10
Wan
10
Lam
10
Sou
10
Lew
10
Grn
10
Bex
10
King
10
Mer
10
Cro
10
Bro
10
Sut
10
Mon 16: You can tell TfL are concerned about their old DLR trains becoming life-expired before the new trains are ready because they're cutting all Bank-Lewisham services from three cars to two for just one week during half term. Expect more of this. Tue 17: If you're a provincial bus user you might appreciate busatlas.uk, a website with 28 pdf maps showing principal inter-urban bus routes across most of England and Wales. The project started in 2019 and maps are incrementally added and revised. Here are Somerset and the Midlands, for example.
Wed 18:Hackney council have just introduced a traffic filter on Amhurst Road outside Hackney Central station. It's operational 7am-7pm daily and only buses, cyclists, permit holders, emergency services and bin lorries can pass through. As a user of public transport I should be all for it, but in this case all I can think is how circuitous the detours are and how congested they're going to get. Thu 19: I spotted this exceptionally Essex car in Gants Hill, which is not in Essex.
Fri 20: The latest selection of ridiculously over-optimistic tourist leaflets in my local Tesco includes a glossy Visit Liverpool brochure and a 32-page booklet listing what's on at the Princes Theatre in Clacton. Nobody in E3 is planning on heading there, even if Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is really good. Sat 21: The redevelopment of Stroudley Walk, E3, has reached the 'dozens of mature trees arrive by lorry' stage. This is to create a 'vibrant public pocket park'. I just wish they'd hurry up and reopen everything because through access has been blocked for the last four years and it's a right pain locally.
Sun 22: My new debit card is portrait rather than landscape. Also the 16-digit number's on the back and is no longer embossed. I should be grateful they haven't hidden the numbers yet. Mon 23: I got an email reminder to renew my Senior Railcard, and maybe that has finally made me feel old. Tue 24: I'm looking to buy an air fryer and have my eye on one that's £40 off. But not today, I'll go to Argos tomorrow. Wed 25: Oh for goodness sake, the price of the air fryer has increased by £50 overnight. Stuff that then.
Thu 26: After four episodes at the Bridge Cafe in Acton, The Apprentice's defeated candidates have finally been sent to Sandy's Cafe again. It appeared in the previous series as Lisa's Cafe but was rebranded in January last year. You'll find it on Hercies Road just round the corner from Hillingdon station. I still haven't been in for a cuppa. Fri 27: The thing about the Gorton and Denton by-election is that it's now obvious who was going to win but it wasn't obvious beforehand. Expect the same unpredicatble tactical voting in hundreds of constituencies in the next election, delivering who knows what. Sat 28: Londonist has updated its excellent list of 74 free London museums, should you ever need inspiration for a cheap cultural day out. I've only been to 60 of them... so far.
Also Wed 25: Bugger, not again. Also Thu 26: My hyacinth is still leaning. Also Fri 27: The magnolias are in bloom in Old Malden, in February. Also Sat 28: The fifth 1st class letter in the Royal Mail Experiment finally arrived, one whole week late.
Another birthday has rolled round and I am somehow 61. It's not a milestone birthday like last year but it still feels seismic, nudging me firmly into the 60-something category rather than being merely borderline. At least it's not like 65 where you have to start ticking the last box on questionnaires because that must be repeatedly traumatic, but that day is getting inexorably closer.
