Town criers in London and the Home Counties: Dick Smith (Beaconsfield), Howard Marco (Bushey), Alan Myatt (Covent Garden, Hitchin, Letchworth), Jane Dodd (Chesham), Michael Stephens (Farnham), Jody Huizar (Great Dunmow), David Peters (Guildford), Christian Ashdown (Haslemere), Carlton Avison (Potton), John Scholey (Tunbridge Wells/Westerham), Chris Conlan (Sevenoaks), Mike Code (Tring), Chris Brown (Windsor)
Years with only one two minute silence: 1919-1994, 2001, 2007, 2012, 2018 (next 2029)
Prime numbered nightbuses: N2, N3, N5, N7, N11, N19, N29, N31, N41, N53, N73, N83, N89, N97, N109, N113, N137, N199, N263, N277 Prime numbered buses that run at night: 13, 23, 37, 43, 47, 139, 149, 281
County tops below 200m in height: Cold Overton Park (Rutland, 197m), Billinge Hill (179m, Merseyside), Normanby le Wold (Lincolnshire, 168m), Dundry Hill (Bristol, 160m), Chrishall Common (Essex, 147m), Great Chishill (Cambs, 146m), Great Wood Hill (Suffolk, 128m), Beacon Hill (Norfolk, 103m)
Punctuation in Polish: kropka. przecinek, średnik; dwukropek: znak zapytania? wykrzyknik! apostrof’ cudzysłów“ ukośnik/ nawias() wielokropek… łącznik- myślnik— gwiazdka* małpa@ podkreślenie_
Registeredbattlefields within 60 miles of London: Maldon 991, Hastings 1066, Lewes 1264, Barnet 1471, Chalgrove 1643, Newbury 1643, Cheriton 1644
TfL stations with three escalators: Bermondsey, Bethnal Green, Brixton, Gants Hill, Highgate, Manor House, Marylebone, Nine Elms, Old Street, Stockwell, Tooting Broadway, Turnpike Lane, Vauxhall, Whitechapel, Wood Green, Woolwich
The 10 longest-serving Emmerdale characters: Robert Sugden, Eric Pollard, Annie Sugden, Kim Tate, Jack Sugden, Victoria Sugden, Alan Turner, Sam Dingle, Joe Tate, Mandy Dingle
Half a dozen things near London according to Secret London: The ‘Most Beautiful Village In The World’ Preserving Its Chocolate-Box Fantasy Of Cobbled Lanes (Just 2 Hours), The Historic City Once The Ancient Capital Of England And England’s Best-Kept Secret For A Winter Weekend Away (Less Than 60 Minutes), The Enchantingly Idyllic Village That Was The Childhood Home Of A Major Hollywood Star (Less That 90 Minutes), The Beloved Steam Train Transformed Into A Festive Wonderland (Just An Hour), The Famous Underground Grotto Where You Can Meet Father Christmas (Only An Hour), The ‘Once-In-A-Generation’ Roman Secret Discovered After Being Hidden For 2000 Years Tucked Away In The North Of England (Just A Few Hours)
Radio stations that launched in 1975: Radio Forth, Radio City, Plymouth Sound, Radio Tees, Radio Trent, Pennine Radio, Radio Victory, Radio Orwell
The most common first names of Big Brother contestants: 9 Sams, 5 Toms, 4 Andrews and Camerons, 3 Alexes, Carolines, Charlies, Emmas, Lauras, Lisas, Lukes, Sophies and Stuarts
Film review shows hosted by Barry Norman: Film '71, Film '72, Film '73, Film '74, Film '75, Film '76, Film '77, Film '78, Film '79, Film '80, Film '81, Film '82, Film '83, Film '84, Film '85, Film '86, Film '87, Film '88, Film '89, Film '90, Film '91, Film '92, Film '93, Film '94, Film '95, Film '96, Film '97, Film '98
London theatres with four levels of seating: Apollo, Harold Pinter, His Majesty's, Lyric, Noël Coward, Novello, Theatre Royal
Former pupils of Watford Boys' and Watford Girls' Grammar Schools: Terry Scott, Sir Andrew Davis, Michael Rosen, Simon Munnery, Grant Shapps, Martin Rossiter, Josh Lewsey, Geri Halliwell, Priti Patel
Marks & Spencer Christmas crisps and savoury snacks: Butter Basted Roast Turkey, Hot Maple Pigs in Blankets, Ridge Cut Spicy Prawn Cocktail Crisps, Lightly Salted Tortilla Stars, Salt and Vinegar Christmas Stars, Hot Maple Popcorn, Milk Chocolate and Cinnamon Tortilla Rolls, All Butter Parmigiano Reggiano & Chilli Shortbread Biscuits, All Butter Parmesan and Chilli Shortbread Biscuits
The 10 most expensive LEGO sets: Death Star, AT-AT, Millennium Falcon, Imperial Star Destroyer, Liebherr LR13000 crane, Titanic, Republic Attack Cruiser, Eiffel Tower, Razor Crest, Hulkbuster
Towns that are 100 miles from London: Swanage, Blandford Forum, Bristol, Worcester, Droitwich, Bromsgrove, Birmingham, Tamworth, Loughborough, Grantham, Boston, Fakenham, Norwich, Beccles, Calais, Boulogne Towns that are 200 miles from London: Liskeard, Bude, Tenby, Cardigan, Criccieth, Llandudno, Blackpool, Settle, Masham, Northallerton, Leiden, Rotterdam, Antwerp, Brussels, Charleroi, Paris
20 National Treasures: David Attenborough, Alan Bennett, Julie Andrews, David Beckham, Mary Berry, Kate Bush, Michael Caine, Judi Dench, Mo Farah, Dawn French, Stephen Fry, Hugh Grant, Elton John, Joanna Lumley, Trevor McDonald, Michael Palin, Daniel Radcliffe, David Tennant, Emma Thompson, Julie Walters
Scottish stations that start and finish with the same letter: Alexandria, Alloa, East Kilbride, Easterhouse, Exhibition Centre, Kilmarnock, Kings Park, Larkhall, Nairn, Neilston, Newton, Saltcoats, Shawlands, Shotts, Stepps, Taynuilt, Wishaw
20 things I can see from here: tennis ball, pigeon with pink spotted mushroom on its head, ABC 'The Lexicon of Love' CD, London 2012 plastic cup, carpet sweeper, the last ever edition of Time Out, foam dice, lace tortoise, Clangers tumbler, stack of empty mince pie foil trays, box of matches, cross stitch map of London, backwards clock, knitted duckling, toothpicks, Samaritans 50th anniversary badge, empty Toblerone tin, video recorder, wedding favour candle, the cardboard backing from a Twix multipack
Singles that spent seven weeks at Number 1: Give Me Your Word (Tennessee Ernie Ford), Just Walkin' In The Rain (Johnny Ray), Young Love (Tab Hunter), All Shook Up (Elvis Presley), Mary's Boy Child (Harry Belafonte), All I Have To Do Is Dream (Everley Brothers), Cathy's Clown (Everley Brothers), I Remember You (Frank Ifield), From Me To You (The Beatles), Green Green Grass Of Home (Tom Jones), Hello Goodbye (The Beatles), In The Summertime (Mungo Jerry), Summer Nights (John Travolta & Olivia Newton John), I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That) (Meatloaf), Think Twice (Celine Dion), Unchained Melody (Robson & Jerome), Wannabe (Spice Girls), Believe (Cher), Is This The Way To Amarillo (Tony Christie & Peter Kay), Bleeding Love (Leona Lewis), Uptown Funk (Mark Ronson), Someone You Loved (Lewis Capaldi), Easy On Me (Adele), We Don't Talk About Bruno (Encanto), Stick Season (Noah Kahan)
4-letter national capitals: Apia, Baku, Bern, Dili, Doha, Juba, Kyiv, Lima, Lomé, Malé, Nuuk, Oslo, Riga, Rome, Suva
Ingredients in Tomato Cup-A-Soup: Tomatoes, Water, Onion, Sugar, Potato Starch, Glucose Syrup, Vegetable Oils, Salt, Cream, Whey, Yeast Extract, Flavourings, Citric Acid, Beetroot Red colouring, Carotene colouring, Mono- and Diacetyltartaric Acid Esters of Mono- and Diglycerides of Fatty Acids, Black Pepper Extract
10 London places ChatGPT thinks are 'quirky': God's Own Junkyard, The Seven Noses of Soho, Viktor Wynd Museum of Curiosities, Eel Pie Island, the fake houses in Leinster Gardens, Mail Rail, Crossbones Graveyard, The Old Operating Theatre, the London Stone, Dennis Severs’ House
Motorways that are less than 10 miles long: M898, M181, M275, M271, M606, M602, M32, M49, M67, M73, M621, M45, M66, M876, M26
There are manyplaces around the City of London to see its old Roman Wall, notably alongside Noble Street, in Barber Surgeons' Meadow, through the Barbican, in St Alphage Garden and just outside the entrance to Tower Hill station. Here are four of the odder spots.
Four strange places to see London's Roman Wall
1) From platform 1 at Tower Hill station
If you're ever waiting for a westbound train at Tower Hill station, take a walk to the rear of the platform and take a look across the tracks, roughly where the penultimate carriage would stop. High on the far wall is a square recess lined by black tiles, and at the back of that is a dimly-lit surface of chunky irregular blocks. Unlike every single other thing on the Underground, the Romans built that.
London's original wall was 2 miles long, 6 metres high and almost 3 metres thick at its base, all the better to keep out uncivilised marauders. It was built around 200 AD, then left to decay and rebuilt in the medieval era, again for defensive purposes. This is one of the original bits, not that you can easily tell by squinting across the tracks. A small metal lamp points inwards but is no longer switched on because heritage illumination is not a TfL priority. There is however a rather nice silver plaque on the pillar opposite, should you step back far enough to notice it.
The plaque confirms that the stones here are a continuation of the wall seen (much more clearly) outside. What it doesn't mention is the unavoidable truth that the wall must once have continued across the tracks and platforms but is no longer here. That's because when the Circle line was constructed in 1882 the railway companies had permission to demolish 22 metres of London's wall and duly did, the Victorians never being afraid to destroy ancient heritage. Ian Visits has a photo of navvies standing atop the offending stonework just before they bashed it through. The square hole is no recompense, plus you can't see anything if a train's in the platform, but it is a brilliantly quirky thing to find on the Underground.
2) Round the back of the Leonardo Royal Hotel
The short walk from Tower Hill station to the rear entrance of Fenchurch Street passes two hotels. The second is the Leonardo Royal, formerly the Grange, whose car port looks like it leads to a cocktail terrace and maybe some parking. Nothing's signed from the street, indeed I'd never thought to duck through before, but at the far end past the umbrellas of Leo's bar is a significant chunk of Roman wall.
The upper section has arched windows built for archers and square holes which once supported a timber platform. It's impressive of course merely medieval, part of the rebuild that occurred along much of the wall as the city grew and spread beyond its former border. To see the Roman section stand closer to the rail and look down, this because ground level then was a few metres lower than now. The telltale signs are several distinctive bands of thin red bricks, these added to strengthen and bond the structure, and which look like layers of jam in a particularly lumpy sponge. The entire segment behind the hotel is over 20m long, thus longer than the better-known chunk outside the station.
Perhaps the best thing about this bit of wall is that you can walk through it. A couple of steps have been added on each side allowing passage through a low medieval arch, all marked with anachronistic trip hazard markings. If steps aren't your thing you can also pass round the end of the wall on the flat. Round the other side are a glum alley and a staff back-entrance, also an exit into a separate backstreet past a sign that says PRIVATE No Public Right Of Way Beyond This Point Entry At Your Own Risk Absolutely No Liability Is Accepted For Any Reason Whatsoever. Stuff that, there's an actual Roman Wall back here.
3) From a cafe terrace
I've written about The City Wall at Vine Street before, a free attraction opened in 2023 beneath a block of student flats. Last time I had to battle the Procedural Curmudgeon to gain admittance but I'm pleased to say they've since loosened up and you can now simply gesture at the door, walk in and give your first name to a flunkey with a tablet. He rattled through the key information with all the practised enthusiasm of a call centre employee dictating terms and conditions, then sent me off down the stairs.
Two walls are filled with finds from the excavations, including an AD 70s coin and the bones of a 1760s cat. Nobody's quite sure how the ancient Greek tombstone ended up here, given it predates Londinium, but it has pride of place in a central glass case. The 5-minute historical animation is pretty good too, assuming you can read quite fast. But the main draw is the multi-layered towering remnant of wall which here has the benefit of being properly illuminated and protected from the elements. The protruding lower section (which looks much too clean to be so very old) is all that remains of an original postern, and is also unique because all the other towers elsewhere round the City are merely medieval.
What's weird is that this large basement space is overlooked by a balcony scattered with small tables at which sit students and businesspeople consuming coffee and all-day brunch. The baristas operate from the cafe upstairs but any food comes from a small kitchen down below, which has the unnerving side effect that while you're wandering around what looks like a museum it smells like an office canteen. If you choose to be tempted by a cappuccino and smashed avocado on your way out you can enjoy extra time with the Roman wall, or indeed skip the walkthrough altogether and focus only on refreshment with an absolutely unique view. I recommend a proper visit though... the visitors book awaits your praise.
4) At the rear of a car park
This is amazing on many levels, the main level being subterranean. After WW2 so much of the City was in ruins that planners drove a new dual carriageway through the Aldersgate area and called it London Wall. They believed cars were the future and to that end hid a linear car park directly underneath the new road. It's very narrow, very long and pretty grim, indeed precisely the kind of filming location you'd expect a throwback crime thriller to use for a shoot-out or kidnapping. Cars enter down a short spiral ramp and pedestrians through a grubby side door, and the numbered concrete catacombs stretch on and on for almost 400 metres. Keep walking past the white vans, Range Rovers and the attendant's cabin, trying not to attract too much attention, and almost at the far end is... blimey.
You can't park in bays 52 and 53 because they're full of Roman remains. A substantial chunk of wall slots in diagonally beneath the joists and pillars, tall enough to incorporate two separate bands of red bricks. It looks quite smooth up front but fairly rubbly round the back, also much thicker at the base than at the top. Obviously it's very risky to have a scheduled ancient monument in a car park so protective concrete blocks have been added to make sure nobody reverses into the stonework by mistake. More recently a glass screen has been added at one end, branded 'City of London' so you know who to thank, but the other end remains accessible for now (not that you should be stepping in or even touching it).
It's the contrasts that I found most incongruous. A relic from Roman times penned inbetween a speed hump and a futile pedestrian crossing. A fortification from the 3rd century beside an electric van built last year. A defensive structure that helped see off the Peasants Revolt beside a poster warning what to do in the event of fire. A boundary wall once an intrinsic part of the capital now underground illuminated by strip lights. And all this at the very far end of an oppressive bunker preserved for the benefit of hardly any eyes in a parking facility only a few know to use. Sure you can see chunks of Roman wall all around the City, even from a tube platform, hotel terrace or cafe. But the oddest spot may well be here in the London Wall car park, should you ever have the balls to take a look.
45 Squared 40) BELVEDERE SQUARE, SW19
Borough of Merton, 50m×10m
Where are we? Wimbledon, specifically WimbledonVillage, a couple of minutes from the High Street.
Why? I haven't done a square in Merton yet, and this is easily the most interesting of the seven.
It looks very similar to last time? Yup, workers cottages for a big mansion, just as in Beckenham.
What was the mansion? Belvedere House, built in 1717 for Sir Theodore Janssen, a director of the South Sea Company. He lost all his money in the infamous bubble three years later, but the mansion passed onto several new owners before being demolished in 1900 so its estate could be sold off for housing.
And the cottages? Built in 1864 when the latest owner, Revd Alfred Peache, used a builder’s yard on the estate to accommodate thirty artisan's dwellings in Victorian Gothic style for workers on the estate.
How do you find out all this stuff? Pick a square in a conservation area and the council has generally done all the hard work researching both heritage and architecture, in this case an 84 page document produced in 2007.
I presume they're all listed buildings? Absolutely. "Polychrome brick, tall Welsh slate roof with crested ridge tiles, large transverse brick stacks with cogged cornices and fancy bargeboards, slate-hung pointed-arched pent porch to set back boarded doors."
It's not square is it? The overall plot is squarish, but the houses are tightly crammed along a cul-de-sac which forks briefly at the far end. It'd be more accurate to call it Belvedere Close.
How are they numbered? 4-13 round the main cul-de-sac, then 17-31 for the smaller cottages at the far end. See here.
What happened to 1-3 and 14-16? They're now 16-26 Church Road.
How much are the houses worth? Down the far end they sell for three quarters of a million, which is madness for a 1-bed terrace with a floor area of just 48 square metres. It's arguably madder that the 2-bedders sell for a million and a half, but that's the prestige of living just round the corner from several boutiques and a Carluccio's.
What's it like? It is lovely to be fair, a little bijou stump of a road with Gothic feels. The teensy gardens are stuffed with shrubbery, and down the far end the residents maintain a dozen flowery tubs made from the bottom of a barrel.
What's your favourite bit? I like the little timber front gates, although it's regrettable so many of the originals have been replaced with different designs. Number 11 still has its gate but the front of the house has also been painted white, which the council's conservation team judged "has an adverse effect upon the appearance of the whole group".
Did you get out alive? It's a bit curtain twitchy, being a densely-packed cul-de-sac with no reason for anyone to be walking down it. But by the looks of it everyone in Wimbledon Village was out having coffee on the High Street while waiting for the Remembrance Sunday parade so nobody was visibly aggrieved.
The cover price of the Radio Times has gone up this week.
It now costs £5.50 an issue.
Last week it was £4.95.
That's an 11% price increase.
Inflation is currently running at 3.8%.
The price is currently doubling every 6-7 years.
(2012 £1.40; 2018 £2.80; 2025 £5.50)
I wrote a post on the soaring cost of the Christmas Double Issue last year.
The weekly Radio Times now costs the same as the 2023 Double Issue.
It's one hell of a price increase.
Here's a graph showing the cover price over the last 50-or-so years
The BBC sold off the Radio Times to a private company in 2011.
The gradient of the graph steepens noticeably after 2011.
Here's how much the Radio Times costs compared to the UK average weekly wage.
Year
Cost of Radio Times
Average weekly wage
% of average weekly wage
1975
5p
£65
0.08%
1985
30p
£172
0.17%
1995
68p
£340
0.20%
2005
95p
£531
0.18%
2015
£2.00
£665
0.31%
2025
£5.50
£733
0.75%
Over the last 50 years wages have increased 11-fold and magazine prices have increased 110-fold.
That's one reason why things feel increasingly unaffordable.
It's worth saying that a 6 month subscription to Radio Times currently costs £55.
That's £2.12 an issue rather than £5.50 an issue, so much more affordable.
Only a fool still buys the Radio Times in a shop.
But even so, blimey.
20 years ago the cover price of the Radio Times was under £1.
Now it's over £5.
Sometimes you just want to go for a nice walk, nothing too taxing, gradient-free, fully weatherproof, ornately decorated, immensely popular, brand-proximate, upwardly aspirational, multiple refreshment opportunities, occasional bargains, a bit of a stroll, won't take long. So here's a brief retail circuit in a Kentish chalk quarry, easily enough to make a day of it and a nice walk all the same.
BluewaterShopping Centre opened in 1999, a decade after Lakeside on the other side of the Thames, bringing bombastic commercialism to the hinterlands of Dartford and Gravesend. Blue Circle sold their 300-acre quarry to a consortium of developers who built a vast mall in the centre and surrounded it by even vaster car parks amid a rim of sheer chalk cliffs. It's a stunning location, if mostly wasted on visiting shoppers who immediately hide away inside a million square feet of retail on arrival. It's also easy to reach from three nearby motorways, a grid of arterial connections and a network of speedy buses. But one does not walk to Bluewater, which is why a walk around it is such an excellent idea.
The mall is often thought to be triangular but is better described as a quarter circle - two straight sides and one longer curve. For my starting point I've chosen John Lewis because that's the flagship retailer, although there are similar department-store-sized units at each of the vertices. For simplicity I've chosen to walk in a clockwise direction. And I've chosen to follow the upper mall rather than the lower because the view is hugely better.
The first arcade is called the Rose Gallery because it's decorated with sculpted foliage and a rose trellis at balustrade level. The words of a poem by WW1 nurse Eve Dobell are written underneath ("Creamy dreamy roses, fresh as morning's birth, bridal veils of sweetness, flung across the earth") should anyone be looking up rather than checking out the window displays and special offers. As with many upper malls you have the choice of walking to the left or to the right with a broader downstairs promenade directly underneath. Decide whether you want to walk past Lacoste or Flannels, pick a side and don't worry because both will reach the M&S in the end.
The Rose Gallery's shops supposedly have a family focus, or that's how the place was originally designed. Parents can shop for kids' toys in The Entertainer, teens can make a dash for Sole Trader, and everyone can peruse the racks in River Island for a fresh outfit. One of the largest units is temporarily occupied by a festive warehouse called Christmas Supermarket, and do not under any circumstances venture inside unless you want to see grown adults buying sparkly baubles, plastic foliage and grinning Santas to despoil their suburban palaces.
You've already walked almost 150 metres so if tiredness strikes feel free to venture into the Winter Garden - described in the original blurb as "a montage of water, landscape and light", but these days a lowbrow food court where couples chew over their purchases with a frothy Costa or cheeky Nando's. Assuming you have the stamina do struggle on past the Gravity Arcade and luxury watch boutiques to reach M&S at the next junctional nexus. The store's huge and has a massive footfall, not least because the mall's American architect chose not to include a direct cut-through to the bus station so everyone weaves through womenswear and the Food Hall instead.
The next arm is the longest, this being Thames Walk. A poetic clue is carved in chunky letters along its length, these the lyrics of a 1930s song from the pen of Raymond Wallace ("Happy and free, Old Father Thames keeps rolling along down to the mighty sea"). Best give thanks that you're walking past an arc of shops with a fluvial theme rather than slogging along a muddy path beside a dour grey estuary. The original intention for Thames Walk was that it bring the excitement of West End shopping within touching distance of Dartford with a focus on high street fashion, hence Superdry and H&M but also Primark and New Look because all pockets must be catered for. Try not to linger too long in the Lego Store.
You've now walked nearly 400 metres so it may be time for a pick-me-up from Boots or alternatively a diversion into The Plaza, a sideshoot offering sit-down calorific offerings. Here we find TGI Fridays, Wagamama, Bella Italia and Pizza Express, precisely the brands visitors to Bluewater embrace when they want to make a day of it. Having seen the local hospitality alternatives, why wouldn't you? Alternatively plough on along the upper mall, shielding your eyes from the glitzy dangling Christmas stars and perhaps mourning the loss of the Charlton Athletic store. Social media aficionados may like to know that the upcoming escalator was renamed the Hevscalator last month in honour of TikTok sensation and Primark employee Heather “Hev” Cox. They'll stick a commemorative plaque on anything these days.
Bluewater's third vertex is somewhat muted at present because the anchor tenant was House of Fraser and they moved out last Christmas, although the plan is for Next to relocate here next year. Now turn the corner and take a deep breath because it's time to enter The Guildhall, the last of the three themed malls. This one's notionally high-end retail, hence Nespresso, Kurt Geiger and Zara, although you can find all three in Stratford these days so they can't be that prestigious. For confirmation of the theme look up above the shops to see a long line of tradespeople duly honoured. They have ridiculous modern job titles like Air Navigators, Chartered Secretaries and Marketors, also wildly out of date professions like Makers of Playing Cards and Wax Chandlers.
These are of course the names of the 113 Livery Companies of the City of London, or rather the first 100 because the last 13 were incorporated after Bluewater was completed. In a quirky coincidence the Apple Store is immediately underneath the Scientific Instrument Makers, although Zara is underneath the Plasterers so nobody's put too much thought into it. This is probably the best decorated mall with its heritage lamps and heraldic columns, but although the surfaces may look like marble it's all cheaper blockwork with pre-cast concrete underneath. Keep walking until Jo Malone appears, also a gents outfitter attempting to flog £400 tuxedo sets to festive partygoers, and hey presto you're back outside John Lewis again. Why not treat yourself to a trinket or a hot chocolate, you've earned it. Alternatively if you've any energy left, here are two more nice walks you could try...
Another Nice Walk: Bluewater (lower level) (½ mile)
You've circumnavigated the upper level, now why not descend to quarry level and walk a circuit of the lower?
Many of the shops are the same but the aspect is very different, also a fresh range of opportunists are vying for your money. Expect to find a team from Tesla attempting to drum up interest in a premium electric car, and this being Kent expect several passers-by to be interested. This is also where they hid Superdrug, Card Factory and a newly rebranded TJ Jones, not to mention a bespoke Haribo pick'n'mix store. The most interesting feature must be the map of the Thames embedded along the floor of Thames Walk, with a blob for London outside Lindt and a blob for Reading outside Footasylum. Cookies, freshly-squeezed orange juice and bargain perfumes are readily available. Be sure to inhale Lush deeply as you go by. Rest assured there is an Oliver Bonas if you walk far enough.
Another Nice Walk: Bluewater Nature Trail (¾ mile)
There really is a Bluewater Nature Trail and it kicks off from the rear terrace outside Zizzi's, beside an empty dispenser where there ought to have been maps. The trail is chiefly aimed at toddlers, or rather frustrated parents trying to distract bored children by showing them some ducks. Initially it skirts a very thin boating lake and a car park that's temporarily being used as a winter fairground. Take care if you have a double buggy and retreat pronto if a swan steps out of the water and makes a flappy approach. Ahead is a rather gauche Pool of Reflection where a few ex-shoppers have dubious floral tributes, then the path dips beneath the ringway and the walk suddenly gets much better.
It's time for a circuit of a proper lake, admittedly artificial, set against the impressive backdrop of 50m-high chalk cliffs. The trail however chooses to focus on the fairly ordinary wildlife around its rim with information boards devoted to Birds, Wild Flowers, Beetles and the like. For younger visitors they've also brought The Very Hungry Caterpillar to life, kicking off with a clamberable version of the hero by the lakeside. If you have a phone you can scan boards to hear children from a local school read the story out loud, although sadly the '3 plums' board appears to have gone missing so the tale will be incomplete. With a zipwire overhead and evidence of the Cretaceous behind it's arguably a more enjoyable walk than a circuit round the shops, and maybe next time you're here you could compare the two.
November 8th is one of a handful of dates which, spoken out loud, makes a word.
Nov 8: novate (verb) To replace with something new
Here are some others, best first.
Mar 10: marten (noun) Small carnivorous mammal Dec 8: decate (verb) Steam clothing to uncurl it Jan 9: Janine (proper noun) A female given name Mar 4: Martha (proper noun) A female given name Oct 10: octane (noun) Hydrocarbon found in petrol Apr 8: apparate (verb) To appear magically Jan 2: gentoo (noun) species of penguin May 10: mayten (noun) Tree native to South America Jan 8: Janet (proper noun) A female given name Jul 18: gelatine (noun) Edible jelly Jul 8: gelate (verb) To form a gel Feb 4: The Beatles (proper noun) Merseybeat combo Sep 6: sepsis (noun) Dangerous inflammatory condition Apr 1: apron (noun) Clothing worn to protect from spills Dec 1: deacon (noun) Clergyman ranked below priest Aug 1: organ (noun) Musical instrument with multiple pipes Mar 1: maroon (noun) Rich dark-brownish red colour
Sat 8 Nov 1975: Watched episode 3 of the quintessentially excellent Pyramids of Mars in which the Doctor failed to stop some mummies building a rocket. Mon 8 Nov 1976: My brother and I always spent Monday evenings with my grandmother and she always made us watch ITV all evening, so that'll have been Opportunity Knocks, Coronation Street (Stan leaves Hilda), George and Mildred and World in Action. Tue 8 Nov 1977: This was the last day in my life I didn't know I needed glasses. A trip to the opticians tomorrow would confirm the worst... and nobody else in my class was wearing them yet! Wed 8 Nov 1978: At lunchtime bought an ice cream from the van parked outside the school gates. Our favoured purchase was a '7p special', a cornet with squirty sauce and sprinkles on top, although we were still smarting from it having been a '6p special' last year. Thu 8 Nov 1979: This could have been the last day of my life, wasted learning about subjunctives and coastal geomorphology, because the following day a computer at NORAD mistakenly reported 220 Soviet missiles had been fired at the US. Thankfully someone checked and they hadn't.
Sat 8 Nov 1980: Adric was the new companion on Doctor Who, deep in E-space with K9. Started planning the quiz for the choir Christmas party, and I'd like to go back now and urge myself to make it easier. Sun 8 Nov 1981: It's the day I completed one-sixth of a century on the planet. I timed the vicar's Remembrance Sunday silence and it was 2¾ minutes long. Mon 8 Nov 1982: As a sixth former they made most of us prefects, but it turned out I was rubbish on door duty so they assigned a couple of extra fifth formers to help me out. Tue 8 Nov 1983: My fellow university coursemates must have had a rough night because I was the only one up in time for the 9am lecture, where I kindly took notes and collected this week's problem sheets. They turned up at 10, then I headed back to my room to put the Christmas decorations up. Thu 8 Nov 1984: Andy had bought the game 'Elite' for his BBC Micro so we watched him trying to play it. The third night in a row I stayed up after 3am trying to do university work. Fri 8 Nov 1985: Disappointed that the rain shower overnight hadn't floated the paper boat on my balcony. Struggled with my Finals work. Went to the Bonfire Night party in the student bar and enjoyed a free half pint of cider.
Sat 8 Nov 1986: My former housemates from college made a surprise visit to my digs in Hull, waking me up at 10.30am and OMG I was not expecting that. They probably weren't expecting the paucity of my £15-a-month room. We drove to Beverley (where I took the above photo because the British Gas share offer was underway). We stopped at the roadside for a photo beside the Wetwang village sign. We drove to Pickering but the steam railway had closed for the winter. We filled up with petrol in Filey. We drove to Flamborough Head and clambered down a gully to the beach and it was marvellous. Back in Hull we struggled to find anywhere to eat on a Saturday night, but the Pecan Cafe in The Land of Green Ginger eventually sufficed.
Sun 8 Nov 1987: The air stewardess I was staying with was on a double Manchester so I had the kitchen to myself. Nicked a bit of her mint sauce to add to my roast lamb dinner. Later Bruno Brookes announced T'Pau had the UK's 600th number 1 record. Tue 8 Nov 1988: Today was 8.11.88 so I pointed this out at work and enumeration of similar multiplicative dates ensued. The conversation eventually turned to whether 29.2.58 was a valid date. Meanwhile Americans were voting for either George Bush or Michael Dukakis as president and we all know how that turned out. Wed 8 Nov 1989: Nextdoor's wall blew down in the high winds. I struggled when my brolly turned inside out. Michael Palin's '80 Days' journey reached China. Thu 8 Nov 1990: The first ever episode of Harry Enfield's Television Programme (Wayne and Waynetta Slob, You Don't Want To Do That, etc). Also Labour won the Bradford North by-election, a few weeks before Maggie resigned.
Fri 8 Nov 1991: Used the freedom of my new flat to watch Thunderbirds, play Lemmings and phone up an 0898 number. Sun 8 Nov 1992: Arrived home from Cambridge in the early hours, having hit it off with a fair-haired friend of the driver in the St Radegund. That evening we headed out to The Ship to gossip about the encounter - yes you can hand over my number - but we never met again. [I remember absolutely none of this, but it's in my diary so it must have happened] Mon 8 Nov 1993: I had a nasty cold so didn't feel up to a trip to Safeway, so used up the last burgers in the freezer followed a microwaved Christmas pudding. Tue 8 Nov 1994: In meetings with neighbours, Tony wanted to pop in to check my Teletext and Ivy called me down to see if I could get rid of the bike on the stairs. Wed 8 Nov 1995: Caught the bus to work but got a lift home. Bought Smash Hits in WH Smiths. Life was in a bit of a rut.
Fri 8 Nov 1996: A cable TV salesman came round and successfully flogged me a 4-collection package. I was connected to Cabletel two weeks later. Ended the day in bed with a Unilever employee. Sat 8 Nov 1997: Pleased to discover that going onto the internet had cut my phone bills. Caught the X5 to ride over to Bicester to meet up with a university friend who clearly wasn't telling us everything at the time. Sun 8 Nov 1998: Arrived home after a bonfire night to remember. Four of us were enjoying soup and sparklers at the bottom of the garden when we were rudely interrupted by a huge alsatian suddenly rushing through the hedge. Maybe the flare-up from throwing milk powder on the flames was what startled it. The dog ran amok for a while, then ran away, then came back and chased us into the house. It was uncollared so the bravest two took it off to the police station, then returned to finish off the plum crumble. I recovered sufficiently to spend the evening filling in an application form for a job in Suffolk, and I would not be here in London today if I hadn't stayed up until 2.30am to finish it. Mon 8 Nov 1999: I was staying with my parents after splitting up with the Ex last week. Had I not I suspect I'd have been dragged to the opening of Braintree Freeport today, like the new boyfriend was. Instead I enjoyed mum's meat pie and chips and went to bed early.
THE UNLOST RIVERS OF LONDON Edgware Brook Bentley Priory → Stanmore → Edgware (3½ miles)
[Edgware Brook → Silk Stream → Brent → Thames]
In November 2015 I walked the Silk Stream north from the Welsh Harp reservoir, and when I got to Edgware I chose to follow the Dean's Brook tributary up to Scratchwood services. Ten years later I'm following the other main tributary, the Edgware Brook, which thankfully has its source somewhere far nicer. In doing so I'm approximately following the route of Silk Stream Way Trail 1 (leaflet here, map here), a year-old project attempting to encourage residents of Harrow and Barnet out and about, but only approximately because it misses several of the good bits.
The Edgware Brook and Dean's Brook combine to form the Silk Stream within the grounds of Edgware Hospital. The confluence is a grim spot behind a shuttered clinic round the back of the compactors, but simultaneously inbetween the mental health centre and breast screening unit because the NHS has to operate out of lowly buildings nobody's upgraded in years. I started here because if this was the end of the walk you'd feel pretty dispirited. The river is better seen on Deansbrook Road, a few inches of water trickling around a discarded chair, past a faded newsagent and under an inconsequential bridge. To see it again follow the alleyway beside the mosque, pass some seriously tumbledown sheds and dodge the gaze of the council cleaner wondering why you're taking such an interest in any of this.
The river's barely noticeable as it ducks under Watling Street, as was, between a Premier Inn and a car showroom, But it must be of local administrative significance because it marks the point where Burnt Oak Broadway becomes Edgware High Street, and also the boundary at which two councils have chosen to place their 'Edgware Town Centre Welcome' sign. To continue you need to find the arch through a decaying 17th coaching inn, formerly the White Hart, beyond which the Edgware Brook finally breaks free alongside a winding footpath. In scenes reminiscent of many a suburban tributary it runs between concrete and then timbered banks, with the occasional pipe emptying local drains into the flow. If nothing else it makes a decent cut-through on the way home from Lidl.
Chandos Recreation Ground is a large humpy space named in honour of a Georgian tycoon who lived locally, although this wasn't part of his glittering estate. Until last year the Edgware Brook ran unseen along the northern boundary but significant landscaping works have since seen it realigned as a naturalised channel within the park, partly because it's much prettier but also as a wildlife corridor and flood prevention measure. The original plans were to shift it even further from the fence but a high voltage cable forced a reappraisal. On my visit three workmen were digging out divots for the planting of several dozen waterside willows, like little hi-vis moles, their water bottles left on a cluster of imported rocks. It can only be an improvement.
After a brief glimpse under Merlin Crescent it's time to bid farewell to the Edgware Brook thanks to League Two football and trains. Barnet FC relocated to the playing fields by the Jubilee line embankment in 2013 with a stadium complex called The Hive, both of which the river crosses and you can't. The team's boss recently announced he intends to move the team back to Barnet because Harrow's not been conducive to maximal crowds, and in the meantime is re-laying the top of the site with artificial floodlit pitches. On the far side of the railway is Stanmore Place, a manicured development of 800 flats on the site of former government offices, whose architects took full advantage of their brookside location by transforming it into a showy fountained pool. No fishing, no swimming, no diving.
Thames 21 have undertaken more landscaping by the crossroads at the top of Honeypot Lane. A broad stripe of Stanmore Marsh survives, rewilded in 2015 as flood storage with the river now crossing wetland in a gravel channel. Volunteers work monthly to clear out Frog Pond and the swales - next appointment November 20th - and the whole area looks tons better than the previous culvert. A word to whoever erected the 'The Silk Stream Way' waymarking signs, they look good but are useless because I only saw three and they're impractically unfollowable. Down Wemborough Road the stream chops off a triangular corner of the school playing fields which has been designated as an exercising space for dogs. I would have gone in to investigate but a particularly bouncy golden hound had beaten me to it, and I'm only glad it didn't bound in after I'd entered.
The next sighting of the Edgware Brook is off-road beside the entrance to Stanmore Golf Club. Three operatives from the Environment Agency were busy cleaning out gunk from the Wolverton Road Screen, thankfully with a whiff of foliage rather than anything browner. A three minute path tracks the stream past gnarled rotting trunks and hoarding squirrels, crossing a concrete slab bridge halfway. This emerges on Gordon Avenue near the gateposts to an 18th century banker's mansion called Stanmore Park - later a boys school, then RAF Balloon Command and since 1997 another upmarket housing estate. The long ducky lake facing the most expensive flats is called Temple Pond, although it's looking a bit of a mess at the moment. It was desilted over the summer and the lakeside is currently a mudbath, like a dozen horses have been galloping up and down, but rest assured it'll be sown with fresh grass in the spring.
The headwaters of the Edgware Brook rise on the slopes of Bentley Priory Local Nature Reserve on the other side of Uxbridge Road. This is a fabulous 90 acre mosaic of woodland, meadow and heath, and at this time of year also mulch and squidge. Cattle and horses graze the lower pasture, fallow deer have a separate paddock up top and dogs are permitted an excitable time in certain areas only. Two fledgling streams join on the edge of Old Lodge Meadow before exiting past Boot Pond, a reedy pool which is named after its shape. The lesser of these tributaries arrives alongside a farm track while the main flow carves a channel from higher up past knotted roots and occasional nature trail posts. Last time I was here it was July and I described the ground as 'parched clay', whereas this time I was very glad I'd worn boots.
In the middle of the woods behind a protective fence is Summerhouse Lake, dammed in the 1850s when Bentley Priory at the top of the hill was the home of the Dowager Queen Adelaide. This is absolutely glorious, I thought, as I made an isolated solo circumnavigation of the lake across a crunchy autumn carpet. Near the southwestern corner is the oldest oak in Middlesex, a sprawling 500 year-old giant with a 9m circumference known as the Master Oak. And on the far side a thin sinuous trickle descends the leafy slopes, fed by springs which emerge where the upper gravels meet the lower London Clay.
This lakeside bowl is easily the most delightful part of the Edgware Brook's brief journey, and this is why I journeyed from a hospital car park to the woods and not, as the stream does, vice versa.
It's only five months since glass-bottomed cabins appeared on the Dangleway. Well, the gimmicks come thick and fast in North Greenwich because the latest is aerial singalongs. It's called Cable Car-aoke, and I can't believe nobody's thought of it before.
It's on offer from 13 November to 19 December on Thursday and Fridays (twelve evenings altogether), very much with an eye on the Christmas party market. You get microphones, party lights, a speaker and a playlist of 1000 songs to sing along to. Don't expect built-in facilities, it looks more like someone's been to Argos and bought two portable karaoke machines. Those who pay up get two return trips, i.e. four crossings, i.e. about 40 minutes. Overall prices range from £69 for two people to £109 for six. Drinks cost £5 extra per person (with photo ID required if you go alcoholic). Solo singers aren't permitted.
So far none of the slots have been booked, let alone sold out, but imagine the rush there'll be when London's party animals get wind of this latest upselling wheeze.
2) Europe for less
Eurostar are offering 25% off fares between late November and mid-March in a Flash Sale that ends at 11pm tonight. I was considering a day trip to Rotterdam for my birthday, but I checked and it turns out Monday is the day all the museums are closed.
3) London's next dead bus
TfL have released the results of a consultation they launched in July, and will indeed withdraw route 283 and reroute the 72. This is despite 79% of respondents saying the change would have a negative effect on their journeys. In effect they're withdrawing route 72 and renumbering the 283 because all this is smoke and mirrors. The switcheroo will take place on 13th December. If you want to go for a final journey before then, it's up to you whether to pick the 72 (the next dead route) or 283 (the next dead number).
4) TfL25 Prize Draw
Fancy a raffle prize for zero effort? TfL are running a special anniversary draw for 28 different gift experiences, from Royal Opera House tickets to a trip up the Battersea Power Station chimney. I suspect the Hidden London tours of Green Park will be quite popular, and the Cheeky Elf Cake baking experience in Haggerston rather less so. Don't fret over answering "What do you love about London during the festive period?" because all prizes will be selected purely at random. You have until 7th December to apply and nothing to lose by having a go.
5) Here comes Great British Railways
Yesterday the government published its Railways Bill, the major legislation that ensures "The Secretary of State may by regulations designate a body corporate as Great British Railways." A lot of it is about how to liaise lawfully with the authorities in Wales and Scotland so not intrinsically informative. One thing we do know is that "passengers will ultimately be able to purchase tickets through a new GBR website and app, replacing 14 existing operator ticketing platforms" so prepare for big change there.
6) Hitting the cap
I saw this advert on the Overground. I think it's new.
It's to encourage you to take advantage of daily capping because "once you've reached the daily or weekly cap, every journey will be completely free." The key paragraph is this one.
"If you're travelling in Zones 1-2, you'll unlock free travel for the rest of the day once you've made two peak and one off-peak rail or tube journeys."
And I wondered, is that true? I guessed not, because in the smallprint down below it says "Exceptions may apply".
The z1-2 cap is £8.90.
For z1-2 rail journeys, two peaks and an off-peak costs £3.90 + £3.90 + £3.20 = £11.
For z1-2 tube journeys, two peaks and an off-peak costs £3.50 + £3.50 + £2.90 = £9.90.
So it is true, two peaks and an off-peak do trigger the daily cap, and after that everything's free.
BUT if your journey combines tube and rail (e.g Battersea Park to Green Park) you end up on a much more expensive fare scale.
For z1-2 tube AND rail journeys, two peaks and an off-peak costs £5.90 + £5.90 + £5.10 = £16.90.
That's way over the daily cap, which in fact kicked in after the second journey not the third.
Also you might assume TfL's maths applies to a journey solely in zone 2, but it totally doesn't.
For z2 rail journeys, two peaks and an off-peak costs £3.00 + £3.00 + £2.70 = £8.70.
For z2 tube journeys, two peaks and an off-peak costs £2.10 + £2.10 + £2.00 = £6.20.
Neither of these trigger the daily cap.
For z2 rail journeys you need to make a total of four trips and for z2 tube journeys you need to make five.
This is because TfL's caps always assume you've been to zone 1 even if you haven't.
And I mention all this because I don't think many people understand how capping works. They just tap and go and find out later what they paid, which is just how TfL likes it.
Exceptions do indeed apply.
7) Easter closures
If you're planning on travelling over Easter, it pays to plan ahead.
Bakerloo: closed north of Queen's Park District: closed east of Whitechapel Hammersmith & City: closed DLR: closed west of Poplar Lioness: closed
Also don't expect to get the Metropolitan north of Harrow-on-the-Hill over May Day weekend.
45 Squared 39) KELSEY SQUARE, BR3
Borough of Bromley, 30m×10m
There are a lot of Kelseys in Beckenham. There's Kelsey House, the cocktail hotspot underneath the Travelodge. There's Kelsey Dental, the private clinic which sponsors Thornton's Corner. There's Kelsey Park, the lovely landscaped park that follows the River Beck. And halfway down the High Street there's tiny Kelsey Square, leading to Kelsey Lane which once led to the manor of Kelsey. In medieval times the manorial estate stretched from Penge to Shortlands, the first big house being built later although localhistorians can't agree when. The last owners were a banking family, the Hoares, whose baronial-style mansion was accessed down a long drive. They then sold up to a nunnery, the estate got turned over to parkland and housing, and Kelsey Square survives as a kind of heritage entrance funnel.
There are only sevenhouses, originally workers cottages for staff on the estate. They're not big but they are attractive with polychromatic Victorian brickwork, timber porches and teensy steps up to the front door. At least one resident owns a dog and it looks like no more then four of them can own a car. At the end of the square is Kelsey Lodge, a separate and much larger affair built in 1864 to oversee the start of the long drive. That's now a one-way lane bypassed by a later suburban avenue, all brightened by conservation-area-standard standard lamps. A brass plaque embedded in the pavement explains it all, should you ever fancy following the 24-stop Beckenham TownHeritage Trail.
Sorry, I was trying to get a decent photograph from the one good vantage point but I was multiply thwarted by the environment. I'd unintentionally turned up on a day when the low autumn sun aligned perfectly with the gap between the houses so ended up with full-on dazzle. Then, when the few clouds in the sky did blow over, the residents of Beckenham repeatedly conspired to stand in the way. A delivery rider hogged the foreground for at least ten minutes, then a family of seven blocked the pavement outside the cafe, then a long-haired man stopped to check his phone and failed to move until the precise moment the sun came out again. I decided Mr Moped was the least worst option.
Everyone in Beckenham knows the top of Kelsey Square as the clocktower above the barbers. It used to be the town's fire station, hence the gap alongside for an engine. The clock is by Croydon-based Gillett & Johnston, who also made the monster atop Shell Mex House, and their weight for this particular municipal creation runs all the way down into the barber's basement. That'll be Hak's Barbers, a longstanding Cypriot business that's been here since 1997 (which means they weren't here when David Bowie played at the Three Tuns nextdoor). Don't miss the old water pump on the corner, recently restored, whose water used to gush from a spout in the lion's mouth. Small but perfectly formed, just like Kelsey Square itself.
London is a great city.
Here is the news from London.
FLASH BANG!
It is Fireworks Night.
There are no free displays tonight.
If you voted Tory in 2010 this is your fault.
You can look out of your window instead.
Mad men will set off bangers all night.
The sky will flash a lot.
Keep your dogs safe.
SUPER MOON!
The Moon is bigger tonight.
It will shine brighter than ever.
Take lots of photos on your phone.
They will look great.
(None of this is true. But it is still news)
RACHEL PUTS TAX UP!
The Budget is in three weeks.
Rachel says money is tight.
She did not say taxes would go up.
But taxes will go up.
CHRISTMAS LIGHTS!
The stars on Oxford Street are now lit.
The angels on Regent Street will be lit soon.
Covent Garden bells are next week.
You have seen them all before so don't rush.
UP THE ARSE!
Well done the Gunners.
They beat a foreign team three nil.
It's one more clean sheet!
But Spurs scored four.
SIR BECKS!
David Beckham is now a knight.
The King dubbed him.
Arise Sir Becks!
STRIKES OVER!
Tube drivers have a pay deal.
There will be no more strikes.
Not that any more were planned.
Have you ever considered how utterly weird sleep is?
We do it daily, willingly abandoning consciousness because that's how we're hardwired, and enter a restful yet restless world we barely remember. If you ever stop and think about it, sleep is utterly weird.
We spend a significant proportion of our lives out cold, maybe a quarter to a third of our time on Earth. Average life expectancy may be 81 but if you factor out the part we spend asleep it's more like 56. That's a lot of potential experience we're missing out on.
All us mammals do it, from koalas who sleep 22 hours a day to elephants who barely do two. It's a critical part of how biology works. And yet even though humans have mastered all kinds of other conditions we've never found a way to avoid sleep, not long term, because the need for sleep ultimately defeats us.
Sleep is essential for restitution, allowing various biological processes to reset our cells and prepare us for tomorrow. We can't fight it, not forever, and get tetchier the longer we try to stave it off. But if we try to sleep too early we can't nod off because we're not really in control of when we sleep, our bodies are.
Over millennia our bodies have adapted to a circadian rhythm, sleeping at night so we can make best use of daylight hours. These cycles also nudge us to be tired at night and, if undisturbed, wake us at a roughly regular time unaided. We can't fight against it, it's evolution.
Of an evening, every evening, we willingly head for a mattress and lie down until we lose consciousness. It's so weird how we all consent to this, tens of thousands of times, with no idea of what we look like, what we're doing and what's going on around us until we wake up.
We have no direct control over falling asleep, not without pharmaceutical assistance. You can't lie there and flip a switch, it either happens or it doesn't, and the best we can do is create conditions that make dropping off most likely. A restful run-up, a pillow, the lights off, soothing sounds or silence, empty thoughts, whatever, or just general exhaustion in the hope it's tired us out.
You never, ever remember the moment of falling asleep, despite the fact you've done it more times than you've had hot dinners. Sleep is a hole you fall into without ever noticing, or get increasingly frustrated about if it doesn't happen.
Waking up, however, is something we have gained control over. The alarm clock rouses us on cue, which is slightly more reliable than expecting someone else to do it for us. Its existence has also enabled society to impose a working day on its citizens, there no longer being any excuse for not being punctual in the morning.
Dreams are weird, relentlessly so, as is the fact we dream at all. Throughout the night we enter manic visual sequences, often dramatic, invariably improbable, but only remember some of the action if we happen to wake in the middle.
While we're dreaming it's like these events are actually happening to us, be that meeting a long-lost relative or falling off a cliff. The adrenalin rush during the wilder episodes must be insane. If anyone ever invents the technology to download our dreams and replay them to us while we're awake, Hollywood is over.
We organise our lives around a working day that matches daylight hours and a quiet period overnight when the vast majority of the population is asleep. Imagine how different everything would be if the majority of our economic and recreational activity wasn't focused into a smaller proportion of the day.
We sleep most when we're young but neither consistently or reliably, which can make parenting absolute hell. Babies are notorious for not sleeping when you'd like them to, also for screaming loudly when awake, all of which contributes to making parents stressed and seriously sleepless themselves. If infant sleep patterns weren't so fractious, maybe we'd have more children.
We organise our homes around sleep. A special room where we can lose consciousness, often several rooms so nobody gets disturbed. If it weren't for sleep we could all live in smaller houses, costing less and occupying less space, maybe even solve the housing crisis altogether. It really does rule our lives.
We have many weaknesses, our species, but one is that we all need to be unconscious for lengthy intervals. It's driven our need for shelter to make nobody attacks us overnight, protecting us not just from predators but from criminals and miscreants. We all need a lock on the door to make sure nobody intrudes while we can't notice.
We spend a lot of money decorating our bedrooms to make them look nice, then only use them for a narrow proportion of the day and spend most of our time unconscious with the light off. Transatlantic flights are an even bigger waste of money, where the more you spend the easier it is to sleep and miss all the luxurious service you've paid so much for.
The hotel business exists mainly because we have to sleep. When away from home it's important to have somewhere to fall unconscious, ideally in comfort, and then be overcharged for breakfast in the morning. If we didn't need to sleep we could mostly make do with left luggage instead.
Our mealtimes all revolve around the fact we need to sleep and that most of us do that simultaneously. Breakfast kickstarts us, lunch is often the light meal midway between sleeps and dinner is the stodgier one we eat later so we can sleep it off. Hospitality wouldn't work so efficiently if we could all drop in any time.
Someone needs to work overnight, and those who accept the challenge have to fight against their bodies' natural desire to sleep. Shift workers have the toughest of battles, notionally adapting but never quite in sync, and all because sleep punishes those unable to fit the norm.
Every night we go to sleep on the understanding there's a tiny tiny probability we won't wake up. It hasn't happened yet or you wouldn't be reading this but it always could. Some say it's the best way to go but who's to say, given that nobody can come back and tell us what it's like. Sleep may one day claim us but we still sleep anyway, we've no choice.
Sleep shapes our lives, forces us to comply, creates the maddest nightmares and makes us ignorant of a third of our existence. Sleep delights some and is feared by others, especially by those who regularly fail to achieve it. Sleep is a horizon we cross daily, a state of mind, a necessity, an escape.
But mainly sleep is utterly weird, and we hardly ever consider how utterly weird it is.
Watford tube station was 100 years old yesterday. There were celebrations.
Not Watford Junction which opened in 1837 (and on its current site in 1858). Not Watford High Street on the Overground which opened in 1862. Not Watford North on the St Albans line which opened in 1910. Not Watford West or Watford Stadium Halt on the Croxley Green branch which last saw a train in 1996. Not Watford Vicarage Road station which was never built. I refer instead to Watford tube station which opened on Monday 2nd November 1925, and is just one of the many stations in the Watford area that never met its full potential.
The Metropolitan Railway's branch line proved expensive to build, not least because of the unavoidable contours hereabouts. A lofty crossing of the Gade valley was required, this despite Croxley station half a mile away being in a cutting. The viaduct runs first above the Grand Union Canal - this span since replaced in metal - and then on brick arches to the River Gade. From a train window there's briefly a great view across the canal basin at Two Bridges before the tracks land on a sturdy embankment, which gradually reduces in height until the platforms at Watford end below street level. This is not how the tube extension was supposed to terminate.
Watfordstation is another from the architectural playbook of Charles Clark, and like Croxley has an Arts and Crafts-influenced vernacular. The roof is tall, broad and tiled, with three gabled dormers and thin brick chimneystacks rising all around. A bold blue canopy protrudes in front of the main entrance to announce the station's name, again just as at Croxley. This time there are two retail units, both tiny, the cafe on the right still with an original shopfront. The shop on the left is externally shabbier, and may still be called News Box but newspapers haven't been part of its main offering for a while. And behind that is a teensy office for A1 Taxis, ideally located because the vast majority of the population of Watford live nowhere near the station so an additional ride is very welcome.
The main problem for railway companies attempting to pass through Watford had been the Earls of Essex whose estate at Cassiobury House covered most of the land northwest of the town. A century earlier they'd complained about the "iron horse" invading their property and forced the London and Birmingham Railway to bend to the east to avoid the estate. Now they were refusing direct access to the Metropolitan Railway in its attempts to reach Watford town centre, a situation which eased slightly in 1909 when the 7th Earl sold off some of his land for housing and a wedge of parkland. But the new line could go no further than a dell round the back of Watford Boys Grammar School, prohibited from continuing on a viaduct across the delights of Cassiobury Park. Generations of schoolboys have benefited from that decision, but objectively things would've been much better if the Met had ever reached the High Street.
Passengers who did make it to the outcast station on Cassiobury Park Avenue found themselves entering a spacious ticket hall, noticeably taller and wider than at Croxley. It was once worthy of two ticket windows, now there are two ticket machines and a cosy back office. It once had a telephone kiosk in a recess, now it has a cash dispenser. It still has a hardwood door to the ladies toilets, these apparently retaining the original cubicles and wood-block floor although obviously I haven't confirmed that. In a bold move the paddles on the gateline are currently sponsored by Harrow College ('only a 19 minute tube ride away'). The door to Station Approach is now firmly locked but the passageway does have an Oyster pad should it ever need to be opened.
The finest feature at Watford station may well be the mauve and sea-green tiling. These were the Metropolitan Railway's corporate colours at the time and they radiate around the ticket hall but more particularly down the stairs. A gorgeous gridded design flanks you on the descent, the tones luxuriously muted with craftsmanship worthy of a stately mansion's wet room. There are a lot of steps, and from what I saw yesterday these are still proving tough for those with walking sticks or pushchairs. Watford isn't even on the long-list for step-free access, it being expensive to force a lift into a split-level Grade II listed building, although I think I can see where you might otherwise shoehorn a shaft.
Watford has a broad islandplatform, generally with only one occupied so it's easy to deduce which side the next train will be leaving. A large W-shaped canopy helps keep the doors to three carriages dry, and could potentially shield four were the buffers not quite so far away from the station building. All the supports are attractively painted in what's now Metropolitan purple. There's no real need to use the far end of the platform, that is unless you've arrived on an incoming train and been careless enough to sit at the rear. The waiting room is similarly superfluous, it generally being much easier to wait on a train, but is delightfully basic with a herringbone floor and two long built-in benches. The gents is just round the back, and this time I can confirm a level of historic originality.
Yesterday's celebrations focused on the waiting room where folk from Watford Museum had set up a small display, mainly because there wasn't room for a big one. They focused on the arrival of Metro-land in the town illustrated with several evocative photographs, then squeezed in a table at the rear where younger visitors could be crafty with relevant postcards. Upstairs the London Transport Museum had pasted several of their archive images down a side corridor like a little gallery, one of which made me go "Oh I remember that sign" and another "oh I've got that timetable". But the main centenary action was a free guided tour led by one of the team's more colourful characters, leading folk round the open parts of a station in a way I entirely predicted back in 2011.
Had all gone to plan Watford station would have closed to passenger traffic a few years ago when the Metropolitanlineextension to Watford Junction opened. But Boris's boondoggle project floundered after he left the Mayoralty, and all that remains today is an landmark block of flats beside an unbuilt tube station at Cassiobridge and an empty corridor across Watford's new Health Campus. The first attempt to extend the line came in 1927 when the Metropolitan Railway purchased the The Empress Winter Gardens and Tea Lounge on Watford High Street with the intention of creating a better-frequented terminus. But tunnelling under Cassiobury Park or the WBGS playing fields proved entirely impractical, plans stalled and a shuttle bus connecting the station to the shops had to suffice instead.
The site of what might have been Watford Central station is now a Wetherspoons where you can buy a pint of Ruddles for less than a single fare to Croxley, and all dreams of extending the line are now practically dead. It's a shame because it took me 20 minutes to walk from where the terminus should have been to where it actually is, but also a joy because it means a brilliant station building has just celebrated its centenary. Happy 100th birthday to Watford and Croxley, on the branch line that was never as useful as originally intended but totally changed my life.
