High Street 2012 5) WHITECHAPEL Vallance Rd to tube station
The area either side of Whitechapel tube station really ought to be called Whitechapel High Street. It has all the credentials. Busy shops, a thriving street market, fast food, historic pubs and a Crossrail interchange slap bang in the middle [photo]. But no, this is still just the Whitechapel Road, deemed historically less important by its greater distance from the City. Now very much a Bangladeshi-oriented thoroughfare, but with underlying echoes of an international and criminal past throughout. Oh, and an enormous hospital.
The Royal London arrived in Whitechapel's leafy green fields 250 years ago. It's grown a lot since, into a huge sprawling multiplex spread across several buildings across several acres. The oldest wards are at the front, behind the imposing Georgian facade, while a multi-million pound extension soars craneward into the sky behind. The hospital has two main entrances - one up the steps to reception, and the other via A&E through a bustling courtyard. Here, for the cost of a free phonecall, kindly ambulance workers will unload you from a trolley in full public view and wheel you through into the heart of the hospital. If things are really serious you might instead arrive on the helipad on the roof, via London's Air Ambulance, which regularly interrupts the bustle of the street below as it choppers another patient in or out [photo].
Stand on the steps in front of the RLH and you can look across to the bustling retail side of the street [photo]. That pointed stone obelisk is the Edward VII Drinking Fountain, erected in 1911 by the local Jewish community in honour of the recently departed King. He and his wife Queen Alexandra were much revered round here - she merited a grand statue in a courtyard in the hospital grounds instead [photo]. To the right of the fountain at number 259 is an unprepossessing sari shop, specialists in "bed linnen, quilts and stainless steel house hold goods". The bright yellow frontage may be plaque-less, but this is the very shop in which the Elephant Man was 'discovered' in 1884. His real name was Joseph Merrick, cursed by congenital tissue deformity and an oversized skull, and exhibited here (in the Ukay International Saree Centre) as a sideshow freak. Merrick's saviour was physician Frederick Treves, who recognised Joseph's inner humanity and spirited him away to a brief life of medical respectability in the hospital across the road.
See that McDonalds on the corner of Fulbourne Street? [photo] At the turn of the 20th century it used to be a furniture store, and upstairs (in what is now the Eastenders Snooker Club) were the headquarters of the local Jewish Socialists. Nothing special, you might think, but in May 1907 this was the unlikely venue for the 5th Congress of the Russian Social Democratic Labour Party. One of the delegates was Leon Trotsky and another was his nemesis-to-be Joseph Stalin - both meeting 'ere in 'umble Whitechapel for the very first time. Overnight they stayed in a doss house round the corner in Fieldgate Street, along with some other famous Russian bloke called Lenin. Also present at this landmark McCongress were a bevy of burgeoning Bolsheviks and a whole host of undercover Tsarist spies. I doubt they ever shared a happy meal.
four local sights » Grave Maurice: Reggie and Ronnie Kray (yes, I bet you wondered how long it would be before I mentioned them) used to hold court in this classic East End pub [photo]. Reader Andy Gray writes... "I have fond memories of the Grave Maurice in the late 80's. The GM was like a time capsule - walking in through a thick velvet curtain you entered a pub that wasn't retro, it simply hadn't changed for years. All the tables had chintzy lights and the decor was mostly from circa 1960 if not before. The bar staff were charming ladies 'of a certain age' and whilst it was a unique boozer in many respects you just knew that it wouldn't last once they'd gone." The moth-eaten atmosphere may not have lasted, but the Grave Maurice has at least survived as a pub after a recent unwise dalliance as a salsa bar. » Black Bull: A half-timbered pub with centuries of accumulated brand history, recently ditched in favour of the very non-heritage name "Bar Nakoda". » Woods Buildings: A grimy brick Victorian alleyway, only recently sealed off behind a locked metal gate, presumably because scores of Jack the Ripper hunters used to walk down it for a bit of genuine slum ambience. » Whitechapel station: Opened in 1876 as part of the East London Railway, and later linked to the District line via a separate (still visible) entrance nextdoor. This is a compact busy station, cursed by narrow twisting passageways which inhibit free flow from the ticket hall to the island platforms. But give it ten years and a major Crossrail-inspired makeover will be complete, with a brand new western ticket hall emerging in Fulbourne Street. Stalin might not have approved.
High Street 2012
The area either side of Whitechapel tube station really ought to be called Whitechapel High Street. It has all the credentials. Busy shops, a thriving street market, fast food, historic pubs and a Crossrail interchange slap bang in the middle [photo]. But no, this is still just the Whitechapel Road, deemed historically less important by its greater distance from the City. Now very much a Bangladeshi-oriented thoroughfare, but with underlying echoes of an international and criminal past throughout. Oh, and an enormous hospital.
Stand on the steps in front of the RLH and you can look across to the bustling retail side of the street [photo]. That pointed stone obelisk is the Edward VII Drinking Fountain, erected in 1911 by the local Jewish community in honour of the recently departed King. He and his wife Queen Alexandra were much revered round here - she merited a grand statue in a courtyard in the hospital grounds instead [photo]. To the right of the fountain at number 259 is an unprepossessing sari shop, specialists in "bed linnen, quilts and stainless steel house hold goods". The bright yellow frontage may be plaque-less, but this is the very shop in which the Elephant Man was 'discovered' in 1884. His real name was Joseph Merrick, cursed by congenital tissue deformity and an oversized skull, and exhibited here (in the Ukay International Saree Centre) as a sideshow freak. Merrick's saviour was physician Frederick Treves, who recognised Joseph's inner humanity and spirited him away to a brief life of medical respectability in the hospital across the road.
four local sights
