You might think not much happens in Moor Park, but on 30th August 1525 Henry VIII turned up to sign a peace treaty with the French. The venue was a magnificent moated palace owned by Cardinal Wolsey said to rival Hampton Court, and the outcome involved the surrender of land and a substantial annual pension. None of this feels remotely likely as you step off a Metropolitan line train and enter privileged leafy suburbia. But history was made here, just behind the detached houses on Sandy Lodge Road, when The Treaty of the More was signed exactly 500 years ago today.
The history bit
In the early 1520s the three young kings ruling western Europe were Henry VIII of England, Francis I of France and Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor. For four years Francis and Charles fought a series of battles in northern Italy, with Henry nominally supporting Charles in the hope of gaining lands in France. In February 1525 the French were firmly defeated and Francis was taken prisoner, however Charles showed no interest in supporting Henry's claims. Henry thus switched sides, supporting French attempts to get Francis released and deliver a diplomatic peace. French ambassadors travelled to the More, a palace in Hertfordshire, and on 30th August 1525 signed The Treaty of The More. As part of this document Henry agreed to give up territorial claims across the Channel, Calais excepted, and in return the French agreed to pay him an annual pension of £20,000.
The palace bit
The More was a medieval manor house by the river Colne near Rickmansworth, nothing special until a wealthy London merchant called William Flete blinged it up with fortifications and a moat in the 1420s. The Archbishop of York bought the house in 1462, attracted by its 600 acre estate, before he fell out of favour and the Crown took ownership instead. In 1522 Cardinal Wolsey moved in, one of his many roles being that of Archbishop of St Albans, and set about enlarging it to palatial standards. It was thus the ideal place to show off to Henry VIII and the French in 1525 when The Treaty of the More was signed. A French ambassador said he thought the house more splendid than Hampton Court, but although it may have been as turrety it was definitely rather smaller.
The location bit
The Colne still threads through the area, not a single river but a main channel plus various braids. You can still see the streams that fed the moat, or at least their evolved counterparts, if you walk round to the Withey Beds Nature Reserve. It's one of the few remaining wetlands in Hertfordshire and named after an old English term for a place of willow coppicing. I wandered in down its grassy path (alongside reptile mats labelled Do Not Remove) to the gate of a squelchy meadow where cattle graze, a scene that looked almost Tudor apart from the WW2 pillbox in the corner. A local wildlife group helps to maintain the reserve, and is currently trying to persuade the council to repair the boardwalk across the marshiest corridor after a tree fell and damaged it. It's a lovely spot but only fractionally accessible and also only reachable along a rather hairy road with no pavement. Now called Tolpits Lane it was once known as Wolsey's New Road, I guess 500 years ago, and still crosses the mighty Colne at a bridging spot Thomas would have recognised.
Another history bit
1525 is also when Henry VIII started letting his gaze drift towards Anne Boleyn rather than his wife Catherine of Aragon. He hoped the Pope would annul the marriage but The Treaty Of The More had aligned him with France rather than Rome, also Catherine was Charles V's aunt so no annulment ensued. Wolsey did not survive the subsequent religious upheaval, and the More passed into the hands of the Crown instead. This proved historically relevant when the not-yet-divorced Catherine of Aragon was banished here in the autumn of 1531, just far enough from London to be conveniently forgotten. She spent only 6 months at the More before being moved onto Hatfield House, but this modern suburb never had a posher resident than the Queen of England.
Another palace bit
Under Henry's patronage the Manor of the More was redecorated, repainted and hung with lavish tapestries. The grounds were also upgraded with facilities for archery, two deer barns and a couple of grandstands for watching the hunting. But later monarchs weren't so interested and by the time the Earl of Bedford took the lease in 1576 the fabric of the building was deemed too far gone to be restored. One of the biggest problems was the foundations, because it turns out building a palace alongside the River Colne was great for filling the moat but also made everything susceptible to flooding. A later Earl solved the problem by building a brand new house half a mile away on higher ground, this the building we now know as Moor Park Mansion, and the ruins of the More were summarily demolished. No trace remains, which makes a visit to the site essentially pointless.
The site visit bit
The thing about the More is that a school's subsequently been built on top of it. Northwood Prep moved here in 1982, thankfully nudged to one side because the the manor is a scheduled ancient monument, hence they laid their sports pitches across the footprint of the former palace. These cover a conveniently large area and are completely screened from round about, hence the only way you get to visit the site is during games lessons if your parents are willing to fork out £8183 a term for your education. It must add a certain frisson to know that you're doing your rugby practice where Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon once slept, also it means the history department's field trips don't require travelling far. Since a merger in 2015 the school's been known as Merchant Taylors' Prep, the lower half of the prestigious private boys school on the other side of the railway. It's possible to look down into the prep school car park from a passing train, where apparently they have display boards recounting the history of the Manor of the More, but I didn't manage to catch a glimpse myself.
Another site visit bit
In the meantime the closest you can get is the school gates, which is only socially acceptable at present because the kids don't go back to school until the week after next. I had to make do with a walk along Sandy Lodge Road instead, imagining the grassy turf lurking behind the row of substantial detached mansions, for here it seems the More is the less. If you want to celebrate the quincentenary I instead recommend staying home and watching the 2013 episode of Time Team where Tony Robinson and archaeological pals unearthed the foundations of the gatehouse under the cricket pitch because it's as comprehensive a nod to The Treaty of The More as we're ever likely to get. In Moor Park 500 years ago, who'd have guessed?
It's almost September again but never fear, London's putting on a last flurry of events, activities and happenings before the nights draw in and we're all invited. Here's my weekend-by-weekend guide to free September delights. (I've also included this weekend because the bank holiday was early so it feels quite Septembery already)
All month
» Totally Thames (Sep 1-30): Once again a whole month of river-focused events, most ticketed, ranging from art to walks to virtual talks to a folksong singalong. Thankfully the website's events section is easier to scroll through these days, but I don't see many big highlights this year.
» Lambeth Heritage Festival (Sep 1-30): Dozens of free talks, guided walks and openings across the borough (plus a proper 32-page brochure to flick through, bliss). Hats off to whoever organises this every year. If you live locally you should definitely take a look.
Weekend 0: August 30/31
» Greenwich+Docklands International Festival (22 Aug - 6 Sep): This significant splurge of spectacular performances delivers artistic wonders annually. To see what's going on it's probably best to download the brochure. This weekend it's all about acrobatics in North Greenwich (1-5pm, both days).
» Creative Mile (Sat, Sun): Art in venues across Brentford, a full mile from the canal basin to the Steam Museum.
» Big Small Wonders (Sat, 11.30am & 2.30pm): Two vibrant nature-themed parades in Valentines Park, one quiet and oceanic, the other louded and jungly.
Weekend 1: September 6/7
» Greenwich+Docklands International Festival (Fri, Sat): On this final weekend it's waterborne theatre in Thamesmead and a heck of a lot of dancing in Stratford (Saturday affternoon only).
» Leytonstone Festival (Sat, Sun): Local performers - mostly actors and musicians - perform across E11 across the next week. The opening event is at St John's church. Includes Hitchcock screenings.
» St Katharine Docks Classic Boat Festival (Sat, Sun): Annual gathering of small boats near Tower Bridge, including Dunkirk Little Ships, dockside entertainment, opportunities to go on board and yachting celebrity Tom Cunliffe.
» Black on the Square (Sat, from 12): The Mayor's latest culturally-themed Trafalgar Square takeover, now in its third year. Performers include Janet Kay and DJ Wookie.
» Croxfest (Sat from noon): OK this one's not quite in London, but where else are you going to hear The Elastic Cats, Talk in Code, The Peppered Aces and Nothing But A Good Time other than on the Green in Croxley?
» Angel Canal Festival (Sun, 11-4): Waterside gaiety beside City Road Lock, now in its fourth decade. The Mayor of Islington usually arrives by narrowboat. I went in 2023.
» Brentford Festival (Sun, 12-6): Live tunes, stalls, vintage vehicles and the obligatory dog show in Blondin Park W5. Now in its 20th anniversary year. I went in 2023.
» Thames Barrier Closure (Sun, 7.15am-5.15pm): The annual all-day check that the gates still work. The spectacular bit is when the gates go into overspill around noon.
Weekend 2: September 13/14
» Open House London (this weekend and next): The grand-daddy of architectural festivals, with hundreds of weird and wonderful buildings throwing open their doors across the capital for two weekends. The online calendar currently includes 808 properties, over 500 of which are "just turn up". It's quite central-London-centric this year (5 in Havering but 80 in Westminster), although I always think the outer boroughs have some of the genuine treasures. It's possible to search by date, borough, event type and map location and also to filter out events that need pre-booking. As ever there's far too much to choose from, but if you need inspiration here are my reports from 2018, 2019, 2022, 2023 and 2024. Be there or regret it for the subsequent 51 weeks.
» Heritage Open Days (Fri - next Sun): In an awkward overlap, the nationwide opening-up of historic buildings coincides with Open House this year. 87 are in the capital, including sculpturetastic Dorich House, E3's House Mill and tours of Woolwich Works (many appear in the Open House listings too).
» London Design Festival (continues next weekend): Hundreds of design-er events, many aimed at "the trade" but others more public-focused. The online programme is so diffuse I have already waved the white flag and surrendered.
» Step Inside 25 Weekend (Sat, Sun): Somerset House celebrates 25 years of public opening with an entire weekend of free events, including artists' studios, large-scale sculpture and pop-up basketball.
» Thames Tidefest (Sun, 10-5): River-based activities scattered between Brentford and Chiswick, with a particular marquee-focus at Strand-on-the-Green, W4.
» Markfield Road Festival (Sat, Sun): Art, DJs and a carnival procession, spilling out into the streets up N15 way.
» Hampton Court Open Gardens (Sat, Sun): One of half a dozen opportunities annually to explore the palace's historic grounds for free.
» Scadbury Open Weekend (Sat, Sun, 2-5): Archaeological excavations at the moated medieval manor house near the Sidcup bypass. I went in 2022 and I enjoyed.
» Route 54 Heritage Event (Sat, 10-5): Free vintage bus rides along route 54 in Lewisham and Bromley, and not just for People Who Like Buses. (yes there is far far too much going on this weekend, they should spread it out better)
Weekend 3: September 20/21
» Open House London: Weekend two
» Heritage Open Days Weekend two
» Bermondsey Street Festival (Sat, 11-7): A designery "village fête", plus the obligatory dog show, plus curated live music, plus food and stalls.
» The Great River Race (Sat from 10.15am): 300 craft engage in a spectacular paddle up the Thames from Docklands to Richmond.
» Peckham Festival (Sat, Sun): Since 2016 a celebration of creative Peckham, with food amidst the art, music and fashion.
» Japan Matsuri (Sun, 10-8): Trafalgar Square once again hosts a day of all things Japanese, including mass drumming, kendo, anime and okonomiyaki.
» Chiswick House Dog Show (Sun, 11-4.15): With a theme of The Great British Bark Off, celebrity judges give the hounds of W4 the runaround.
» This is Oxford Street (Sun, 12-8): An 8-hour preview of what pedestrianisation might be like. Will feature awful commercial pap like coffee pop-ups, branded activations, secret musical performances, interactive selfie spots and a wellness village hosted by Holland and Barrett.
Weekend 4: September 27/28
» Chelsea Physic Garden Open Weekend (Sat, Sun): Annual freebie at London’s oldest botanic garden as part of the Chelsea Festival.
» Woolmen’s Sheep Drive and Wool Fair (Sun, 10-4): The celeb leading this year's first tranche over Southwark Bridge will be revealed shortly, but they'll do well to beat Mary Berry or Michael Portillo. Come too for wool-related trade stalls and lamb burgers.
» Liberty Festival (Wed-Sun): Wandsworth are hosting this year because they're the Borough of Culture. The programme of disability artists peaks on Sunday afternoon with a picnic in Battersea Park.
30 things we learnt from TfL FoI requests in August 2025
1) There are approximately 2,620 trips per weekday on route 310. Of these 59% are made exclusively on the section between Finsbury Park and Golders Green, 26% are made exclusively on the section between Stamford Hill and Finsbury Park, and only 15% are made between these two sections. 2) 65% of violent crime on the Underground takes places at stations, 32% on trains and the remaining 3% occurs lineside. 3) During the last financial year TfL earned £352,804.01 from brand licensing (down from over £400,000 in the two previous years). 4) The strap hangers, grab poles and handrails on the new Piccadilly line trains will all be blue. 5) The charging sockets on the new Piccadilly line trains will be USB-A, but the front plate with the plugs is designed to be replaced should a decision be made in the future to change the port type.
6) TfL produced 40,000 pin badges as part of celebrations for their 25th anniversary. The total cost was £23,965 +VAT. This was covered through the normal Employee Communications budget. 7) From 2nd February passengers using contactless to pay for travel from Sevenoaks to zone 1 stations were overcharged during the evening peak. TfL were made aware of the error on 20th February and fixed it on 8th June. 8) Only seven new DLR trains have been delivered to Beckton depot. The delivery dates were 13/01/23, 06/03/23, 11/12/23, 27/08/24, 19/05/25, 17/06/25 and 01/07/25. 47 trains are yet to arrive. 9) Last year 155 complaints were submitted about buses being too hot. This represents 0.0000086% of all bus journeys. 10) Since 2020 there have been four murders on TfL trains/stations and six homicides on buses.
11) ‘Harlequin’ was on the initial long list for what eventually became the Lioness line. However it did not meet the agreed criteria for choosing a name so was not considered beyond the early stages. 12) The new accessible car park at Ickenham station cost approximately £1.4m. It provides three accessible spaces. 13) There are currently 382,737 active 60+ Oyster photocard cardholders. 119,735 new cards were issued in the financial year 2024/25. TfL estimate that £84m of revenue was foregone during the financial year 2023/24. 14) TfL is actively working with the Rail Delivery Group and Great British Railways to ensure that barcode tickets can be accepted in the future. However this would require a significant programme of work and there is no scheduled timeline at present. 15) Since March TfL has received 8 complaints about the withdrawal of the One Day Bus & Tram Pass, two from the same person.
16) The headcount of TfL's FOI Case Management Team is 10 (up from 8 two years ago). 17) Three Elizabeth line trains have been named. They are Heidi Alexander, Andy Byford and Jorge Ortega. 18) The most popular cycle hire journey, by a considerable margin, is from Hyde Park Corner back to Hyde Park Corner. The top 10 journeys are all around Hyde Park or Kensington Gardens apart from 4) Podium QEOP → Podium QEOP, and 7/8) Ackroyd Drive, Bow ←→ Maplin Street, Mile End. 19) Northbound buses on route 108 continue not to serve bus stops MU and MV on Tunnel Avenue as the requirement for reinstatement has not been confirmed. 20) There are 699 yellow box junctions on the TfL London Road Network.
21) There are no plans to add bilingual roundels at Whitechapel. 22) The three TfL modes using the most electricity last year were the Underground (1,184,087,953 kWh), the Elizabeth line (310,777,031 kWh) and the Overground (182,437,992 kWh). 23) No refurbished Central line trains have entered service this year. Only two have been refurbished since 2023. The deadline to refurbish the other 80 remains 2029, somehow. 24) The seven roles reporting to the Director of Buses are Head of Bus Performance Delivery, Head of Bus Performance Management, Head of Bus Service Delivery, Head of Bus Tendering and Evaluation, Head of Buses Business Development, Head of Monitoring and Implementation, and Head of On Demand Transport & Victoria Coach Station. 25) If you start your request "Hey TfL, You're probably aware of how enthusiastic I am regarding maps" and then ask eight long-winded questions, you will get no useful response.
26) The presence of CCTV has been shown to have little impact on women's safety perceptions at bus shelters. However 73% of women said they'd be more likely to travel by bus in London if CCTV were installed at the bus shelters they use. 27) Work on replacing the glass canopy at Canning Town bus station is due to begin on 15th September and continue until December. 28) If you'd like a zip file containing 25 pocket tube maps from 2000-2009, look here. 29) If you'd like a zip file containing the new tube carriage diagrams, including the new Overground line names, look here. 30) There is no need to ask "how muvh TFL spent to repaint the overground trains in rainbows and pictures of diversity and inclusion" because they answered last year and they spent nothing.
45 Squared 30) CARRINGTON SQUARE, HA3
Borough of Harrow, 40m×15m
We've got to do this one so let's get it over and done with.
Officially, according to the National Street Gazetteer, there are only two squares in Harrow. One is private within the luxury gated enclave at Bentley Priory and the other is in Harrow Weald. So Carrington Square it is.
What we have here is a dense cul-de-sac of townhouses, all two-storeyed and white-windowed, squeezed into a rectangular plot. From the brickwork I'm guessing 1990 give or take a few years. There are 32 houses altogether, slightly staggered to create the illusion of non-uniformity. Everything underfoot is tiled, be that roadway, pavement or front garden, with two raised beds of shrubbery doing all the heavy lifting lookswise. Grass does not feature. A single access road connects to the adjacent dual carriageway, which is Uxbridge Road, with a couple of rows of garages tucked out of sight. Everyone faces out onto the central square/carpark so I imagine living here is a bit claustrophobic and curtain-twitchy.
There is nothing interesting about Carrington Square, as I shall now demonstrate with the following list
10 uninteresting things about Carrington Square
1) I have no idea why it's called Carrington Square, although it was built on the site of a former builder's yard and maybe they were called Carringtons. 2) The Green Belt begins just over the back fence. 3) The speed limit in Carrington Square is 30mph, although if you ever tried to drive at 30mph within the bounds of the square you would undoubtedly crash horribly. 4) Carrington Square is lit by four lampposts. 5) Harrow footpath number 30 passes the backs of the higher-numbered houses on Carrington Square on its way to Brooks Hill (via footpath number 28). 6) Carrington Square is 250 feet above sea level (about 76 metres), so is intrinsically safe from rising sea levels. 7) It felt a Neighbourhood Watchy kind of place, but thankfully I got lucky on my minute-long recce by slipping in just after two vaping dogwalkers had left and slipping out just before a stern-looking granny returned from her constitutional. 8) Carrington Square backs onto one of the new artificial sports pitches at the Bannister Sports Centre. This is named after Harrow-born miler Sir Roger Bannister (although he grew up miles away in West Harrow). 9) The nearest coffee outlet to Carrington Square is the Costa machine in the reception at Jurassic Golf, the dinosaur-packed attraction less than five minutes up the road. 10) Carrington Square is the only Carrington Square in England, there are no others.
TfL launched a new campaign this week encouraging passengers to wear headphones on public transport when watching/listening to content or making calls. "Be considerate towards others" is the message, given that the majority of people find loud music and two-sided calls a right nuisance. But how will a few posters on trains actually help? I saw this poster on the Metropolitan line, but the perpetrators likely never will.
10 ways the new 'headphones on' campaign might work
1) When you hear a noisy device, point at the poster and the owner will surely react instantly. 2) When you hear a noisy device, walk over to the poster, remove it from the frame and wave it in the face of the miscreant. 3) The new campaign will coalesce public attitudes, emboldening the collective mindset and making loud noise socially unacceptable. 4) The oblivious millennial who would have sat opposite you next week playing random TikTok reels instead sees the poster, changes their behaviour and heads to the local public library for a good book instead. 5) If everyone on London's transport wears headphones all the time, nobody will hear any noisy phones anyway. 6) The 5 people who win noise-cancelling headphones in TfL's new Instagram giveaway turn out to be London's five most prolific noisemakers and the issue fades away almost overnight. 7) There are no on-board announcements associated with this campaign, which has singlehandedly made carriages less noisy. 8) TfL could buy up all the advertising space on TikTok with a campaign commercial that has no soundtrack. 9) The travelling public, galvanised by this campaign, will lynch anyone they catch playing tinny music out loud. 10) Everyone immediately stops using speakerphone to make sure TfL never run a campaign as trite as this ever again.
10 better ways to stop noise on public transport
1) Withdraw the Zip cards of any youngster who insists on moshing to MC Topkiller at full volume. 2) Refund the fare of anyone who snitches on a phone-blarer. 3) Rename the Elizabeth line the Headphones On line. 4) When Londoners get their 60+ Oyster card, include a pair of headphones in the envelope because it's the oldies who are the most transgressive. 5) All train journeys must be conducted in total silence. Bliss. 6) Introduce quiet carriages on the tube, because that works so well on trains right? 7) Force headphone dodgers to do community service (ideally removing graffiti from Central line trains). 8) Fine anyone whose digital racket exceeds 70 decibels. £1000 a time should do it. This includes TfL's "see it say it sorted" announcements, which may swiftly bankrupt them. 9) Force smartphone manufacturers to reintroduce a headphone socket. 10) Switch off all the 4G and 5G connections nobody wanted underground anyway.
London's Worst Bus Route 375: Chase Cross to Passingford Bridge Location: Outer London east Length of journey: 4½ miles, 15 minutes
The 375 is one of TfL's least frequent and least used bus routes. It exists to connect the village of Havering-atte-Bower to urban London, specifically Romford, and is their only public transport link to shops and a station. The Essex village of Stapleford Abbotts benefits too, this because buses have to continue almost to the M25 before turning round, Passingford Bridge being the site of the first roundabout across the border. This means the tip of the route is over 3 miles from any other TfL service, so if the every-90-minutes bus doesn't turn up you are royally stuffed. This is not why the 375 has become London's most balls-uppingly bad bus route.
The flyover at Gallows Corner is being replaced at present and the consequent traffic closures are causing enormous disruption. The 375 goes nowhere near Gallows Corner - always at least two miles distant - and yet for some reason TfL have decided to curtail the route so it no longer serves Romford town centre. They first intended to do this in June, sticking up numerous posters warning passengers that the route would be starting at Chase Cross, then silently changed their mind. However last weekend they finally put the curtailment plan into action, the intention being that this much shorter 375 will continue to operate until the end of September. And now you can't catch the 375 in Romford, you have to catch it 2½ miles up the road, which is effectively the limit of TfL's advice to residents.
Part 1:London's Worst Bus Route - northbound
Beginning the only bus to Havering-atte-Bower and Stapleford Abbotts way out of Romford town centre is a problem, because how do you make sure you catch it? It's crucial to catch it because it only runs every 90 minutes, but now there's the additional issue of how and when to get a connecting bus. Last week it was easy because even if the traffic was terrible you knew that so long as you boarded the 375 in the town centre it'd get you home. This week's advice to 'please use route 175 instead' adds risk, potentially considerable risk, because it might not get you to Chase Cross before the 375 departs. What doesn't help is that all the 375 timetables at all the stops in Romford have been covered over by yellow posters telling you to catch the 175 so you don't know when it would have departed. The apps don't include times either because the bus isn't running, so your only hope of definitely reaching Chase Cross in time is to use a journey planner and hope the traffic doesn't snarl things up.
Also the yellow poster fails to explain where to change buses. 'Chase Cross' covers a fairly broad area north of the A12, and officially it's a crossroads the 175 doesn't actually serve. Most regular users of the 375 will of course know where the bus goes and aim correctly to change on Chase Cross Road, but anyone less informed might easily alight too early or too late and miss their connection. There are in fact two overlapping bus stops on Chase Cross Road where interchange is possible - Felsted Road and Belle Vue Road - but in the absence of a map or specific instructions who's to know? Also neither stop has a shelter, which when you could be waiting up to 90 minutes is potentially a big fail. The best all-weather option is to alight at Merlin Road and walk 80m round the corner to Avelon Road, or to ignore the 175 completely and catch the 103 instead all the way to its terminus.
To test the sudden jeopardy I decided to see what would happen if I just missed a 375, as many people inevitably will. It's another 4½ miles to the end of the route so is it better to wait for 90 minutes or would it be quicker to walk?
A double decker is running on the 375 at the moment, or at least it was yesterday, I presume because of the availability of the vehicle not because anyone imagines it could ever fill up. Off it headed up the hill, Havering-atte-Bower being the highest point in northeast London, and off I pootled after it. It took 20 uphill minutes to reach the centre of the village by the green and stocks, which is within the physical capability of most villagers but by no means all. Here I noted that someone had tied an England flag to the village sign, which is not a usual presence so is likely related to the current burst of flaggification across the country. It was either left there by a patriot or by a pea-brained racist, and given they'd attached it the wrong way round so that 'England' read backwards I'd suggest the latter.
After half an hour I'd reached the edge of the village and also the edge of London. TfL would rather go no further, it'd mean they could run the bus every hour rather than every hour and a half, but like I said they have to continue because there's nowhere to turn round. That said there were passengers waiting on the other side of the road for the return journey, not just at the last stop in London but also at the first stop in Essex. What was odd, when I checked on Citymapper, was that the returning 375 should have been due but was instead apparently 25 minutes away. This was the first hint that my southbound journey was going to be a timetabling disaster but I didn't know that yet.
Stapleford Abbotts goes on a bit - 2½ miles between the signs at each end of the village - although most people live towards the southern end. They boast a village shop, also a pub which doubles up as cafe and takeaway, also a school although that's quite a hike up the road. I hiked up the road, getting unexpectedly drenched when the earlier sunshine turned into a 20 minute shower. The returning 375 finally passed while I was sheltering under an overhanging tree, 27 minutes later than the timetable at the nearest stop suggested. I continued north past a surprising amount of housing infill, typically gated bungalows or clusters of detached fourbedders, also a few NIMBY signs saying the village can't sustain a few dozen new homes.
The pavement finally gave out just beyond the primary school, but thankfully the verge ahead was wide enough to avoid having to walk in the road. It's a bit of a rat run out here, being the back way into Ongar, and also offers a fine panorama across a golden valley of ploughed fields. If London feels a very long way away that's because it is. The penultimate stop is at The Rabbits, a popular pub serving an immediate population of about 20, beyond which one last downhill stretch took me to the Passingford Bridge roundabout. The former ford and current bridge are crossings of the River Roding, in case you were wondering. Here I found the 375's last stop out and its first stop back, so smiled because I had indeed beaten the bus. It turned up five minutes later, disgorging zero passengers into the middle of nowhere, and I smiled again because the ride home would be so much easier. And that's where I was wrong.
Part 2:London's Worst Bus Route - southbound
According to the timetable at the Passingford Bridge bus stop the 375 was due to return in seven minutes time. The route's always operated by a single vehicle so the turnaround is short to allow it to head back to Romford and start the circuit again. I had no reason to realise that the timetable was wrong until the driver wound down her window, leaned out and informed me that she wasn't due to return for another hour. I think she'd been expecting the look of incredulity that spread across on my face. How on earth does a seven minute turnaround become 60 minutes instead? She got on the radio and checked with the garage, also checked her laminated duty card, and both of these confirmed that she was indeed supposed to sit here in the middle of nowhere for a full hour. She even showed me the card when I went over to have a chat, because she thought it was as ridiculous as I did.
My previous assumption, based on everything I'd seen online, was that the normal 375 timetable would have been retained with the Romford end chopped off. People round here know the timetable inside out, thus they know to turn up at one of the nine times a day the bus actually runs. It would therefore have made sense to run it to time, i.e. to have the driver sit around at Chase Cross for the best part of an hour so that normal headway could be maintained. Instead it seemed some moron had tweaked things so that the longest wait was at Passingford Bridge, and then some other moron had decided not to print any new timetables. Even the so-called Timetables page on the TfL website still shows last week's timetable, not the new abomination the buses are running to now.
Normal timetable
Passingford Bridge (arr)
07:09
08:49
10:21
11:52
13:23
15:19
16:35
17:52
19:17
Passingford Bridge (dep)
07:15
09:00
10:30
12:00
13:30
15:24
16:40
18:00
19:30
Chase Cross
07:32
09:17
10:46
12:16
13:46
15:40
16:56
18:16
19:46
Romford Station
07:49
09:34
11:00
12:30
14:00
15:55
17:10
18:30
19:58
New timetable
Passingford Bridge (arr)
07:09
08:49
10:21
11:52
13:23
15:19
16:35
17:52
19:17
Passingford Bridge (dep)
07:51
09:25
10:57
12:27
14:23
15:43
17:01
18:25
19:30
Chase Cross
08:08
09:42
11:13
12:43
14:39
15:59
17:17
18:41
19:46
I should say I haven't uncovered this new timetable anywhere, I've attempted to assemble it by using TfL's Journey Planner and a website that tracks specific vehicles on specific routes. I certainly hadn't worked it out while I was stood by the roadside at Passingford Bridge wondering what to do for an unexpected hour before the bus finally headed back to civilisation. Apps were no help because they only announce the next bus when it's 30 minutes away and this rural hiatus was double that. Analysing what I now believe to be the new timetable, what were previously dalliances of no more than 10 minutes at the northern end of the route have been systematically extended, in many cases 'only' by about 25 minutes but in my case I hit the wazzock jackpot and got the full hour. I decided to walk back instead.
I actually walked for over an hour, all the way back into Greater London, before the returning 375 finally caught up. Along the way I passed two people waiting patiently at remote bus stops thinking the bus would be along imminently, as timetabled, but instead it was faffing at the terminus for no good reason. One was aboard the bus when I finally boarded and one had plainly given up and gone home, and who could blame him? This is why I'm claiming the 375 is London's new worst bus route, because someone's changed the timetable without telling any of the passengers, and you really shouldn't do that with a bus that runs every hour and a half unless you're an institutional sadist.
One thing the driver said, which makes perfect logistical sense, is that in the time she'd been asked to wait at Passingford Bridge she could have driven the bus all the way to Chase Cross and back again. Indeed TfL could have taken the opportunity during this six week window to run a more frequent timetable, at least every hour, maybe even every 45 minutes, to make up for the inconvenience of not being to travel into Romford direct. Instead they stuck with 90 minutes, seemingly for familiarity's sake, but then inexplicably changed the times of all the return journeys. Digging into the Journey Planner I have a suspicion that the database contains more than one set of timings and someone's joined them up really badly.
I should also say that the driver asked me to tell you this. She suggested sharing the news of the new timetable with local residents, perhaps on Facebook, and getting as many people to complain to TfL as possible. She had no idea I write a blog people at TfL actually read, indeed last time I blogged about the ineptitude of the changes one manager emailed to thank me for "highlighting the inconsistency in the 375 publicity/service operation". It's ten times worse now, inadequately explained and leaving pensioners by the wayside, and all because nobody gives a damn about the residents of outer Havering. Let's hope somebody official works out what the temporary timetable really is, prints it out and tells people what's actually going on, else the 375 will remain London's most unnecessarily awful bus route until October.
My grandparents got married in August 1925.
My niece got married in August 2025.
Exactly a century and a day later.
My grandparents grew up in the Lea Valley four miles apart. She was a farm girl from Essex and he was a town boy from Hertfordshire, both very much from different sides of the tracks. But their jobs brought them together, she a barmaid at the village pub and he the postman whose rounds took him across the river. He caught her eye, she leaned out the window for a daily chat and before long a wedding was pencilled in.
My niece and her husband grew up 120 miles apart, she in East Anglia and he in the West Midlands. University brought them together, the great modern social mixer, and all because they happened to choose the same campus far from home. They waited until the final year to accidentally meet, he behind a drumkit on stage and she skipping revision at a gig she was never planning to attend. The wedding, though, took eight more years.
My grandparents married at the local parish church. Hers not his, as tradition dictates, so the medieval church on the far side of the village rather than the medieval church four doors up the road. The local newspaper reported that my grandmother was the first bride to walk through the new lych-gate at the end of the churchyard path. I shall be referencing the local newspaper article several times in what follows.
My niece and her husband went nowhere near a church, weddings having moved on somewhat since the early 20th century. They did the official bit in the city and then held a second celebration with a larger audience in the woods. The location brought its perils - I was buzzed by a wasp during the opening remarks and a large yellow leaf fell onto the violin while the string quartet were playing. The celebrant was a woman in jaunty leggings rather than a man in a dog collar, the readings were poems rather than scripture, the music included secular works by Elton John and the Beatles rather than classical organ pieces and the end result was a signed certificate rather than an inked register. I bet we smiled more than they did.
My grandmother wore ivory crepe-de-chine with veil and orange blossom. My niece also wore ivory, a flowy veiled thing with a train and less in the way of floral decoration, such are the limits of my descriptive abilities when it comes to wedding dresses. Her bouquet featured roses and a bold spray of white flowers, whereas my grandmother's comprised pink and white carnations, possibly locally grown. There was also a contrast in the choice of bridesmaids, the 1920s quartet being young nieces in white frocks and the 2020s trio being schoolmates in green dresses. Everyone looked lovely, no doubt on both occasions.
My niece and her husband were showered in organic confetti, thrown in strict accordance to the photographer's wishes because it's all about framing the right shot. I'm willing to bet that my grandparents never paused during their shower for a dip and a snog. Other contrived images included the group shot on the lawn, multiple combinations of family and friends and, later in the evening, an avenue of sparklers. I've searched in vain through the family archives for a photo from the older wedding, indeed I suspect very few were taken, which is a shame because the latest wedding will be preserved in print, digital image and video format forever.
My grandparents' reception was held at a farm up the lane because you can always hire your sister's gaff on the cheap. I suspect the groom's family found it a bit down at heel, indeed the bride's relatives are the poorest folk I ever remember visiting, but I've checked the actual venue and it's a listed 15th century timber-framed house that's now worth over a million. My niece also held her reception in a barn, this time merely 18th century and never used for chickens, additionally with a convenient space for canapes and crazy golf on the lawn outside.
A modern reception is a carefully choreographed occasion with fine cuisine, fine wines and ubiquitous floral touches. I bet my grandparents had a broader spread of cooked meats than we did and that their cakes were more filling than our bijou trio of desserts, but also that our roast chicken platter would have blown their minds. As for alcohol a rural pre-war village would have been able to provide killer ales on demand, nothing fancy in a schooner, also liberally dispensed rather than reverting to a paid bar staffed by black-clad contractors. The merry end result will however have been the same.
When did speeches get so long? My grandparents probably got away with a few words of thanks but these days everyone's expected to produce a carefully-scripted star performance before the food can continue. As father of the bride my brother knocked his four-pager out of the park with all the right nods and nostalgic warmth, while the groom played safer than I'd have guessed the day we first met. For a proper 21st century touch we enjoyed a speech from the maid of honour as well as the best man, the former eliciting all the paper hankies and the latter digging amusing dirt as only brothers can.
The identity of the first dance had been speculated in a sweepstake prior to the meal, a grid of mostly 21st century tunes which greatly challenged attendees of an older persuasion. The actual choice I'd never heard of - it failed to reach the top 40 in 2013 - but is now indelibly imprinted on my mind complete with vigorous romantic visuals. The band then proceeded to play covers that ticked all boxes, from I Can't Get No Satisfaction to Moves Like Jagger and Wonderwall to I Predict A Riot. I can confirm that Pink Pony Club is the latest addition to the list of wedding staples that even auntie knows, and that several of the beardier men present proved unexpectedly proficient at the Macarena.
The 1925 newspaper article states that my grandparents spent their honeymoon in Folkestone, which to be fair is better than my parents managed four decades later. By contrast the latest happy couple are currently sunning themselves in Portugal, and by all accounts utterly delighted to finally be husband and wife. My grandparents would have laughed at the idea of an eight year courtship and been shocked that the couple moved in together five years before tying the knot. But they'd have recognised the emotional connection the two of them share, indeed it's always apparent, and no doubt been proud that three generations later the family line continues to thrive.
The two weddings may have been vastly contrasting occasions but what binds them both together, a century and a day apart, is a great occasion in a barn, a very happy couple and true love.
It's Bank Holiday Monday.
It's also the earliest possible date for the August bank holiday.
And that means we're about to enter the longest possible gap between bank holidays.
Let's prove that.
There are three bank holiday clusters in the English bank holiday year.
» The Christmas/New Year cluster
» The Easter/May cluster
» The late August bank holiday
The longest possible gap is going to be between two of those sectors.
Very roughly they last 3-4 months, 3 months and 4 months respectively.
We can ignore the summer gap between May and August.
Double Check
It's always either 91 days or 98 days (as we discussed in 2020).
It's thus too short to be of interest.
So we're only interested in the autumn gap and the spring gap.
Both of these can be about 4 months long.
The autumn gap is from the last Monday in August to Christmas Day.
The longest possible gap is 25th August - 25th December, as in 2025.
The gap is exactly 4 months, or 122 days.
Double Check
In such years 25th December is a Thursday.
So it is indeed a bank holiday.
Double Check
The first Christmas bank holiday can also be on 26th or 27th December.
You might think this could lead to a longer gap.
But Monday 26th December only happens in a year with Monday 29th August.
And Monday 27th December only happens in a year with Monday 30th August.
And those are only 119 day gaps, so we can ignore them.
The spring gap is from New Year's Day to Good Friday.
The longest possible gap is 1st January - 23rd April.
This gap is exactly 16 weeks, or 112 days.
Double Check
Both of those are Fridays, so 1st January is indeed a bank holiday.
Double Check
The latest Good Friday comes before the latest possible Easter Day, which is 25th April.
This next happens in 2038 (and then not again until 2258).
Double Double Check
Technically the gap could be 113 days in a leap year with a late Easter.
But 25th April Easters don't happen in leap years (as we discussed in April).
Whenever Easter falls, the spring gap can never be longer than 112 days.
So it never beats the autumn gap.
122 days is thus the longest possible gap in England.
Also in Wales and Northern Ireland.
Double Check
But in Scotland the August bank holiday is at the start of August.
But they also have a St Andrew's Day bank holiday at the end of November.
The longest possible gap in Scotland is thus 1st August - 30th November.
This is 121 days.
This doesn't beat England, it's one day less.
Double Double Check
Yes the St Andrew's Day holiday is sometimes held back until 1st or 2nd December.
But this only happens in years when the previous holiday is 4th or 5th August.
So it doesn't help.
Conclusion
The longest gap between UK bank holidays is 122 days.
It only happens when the August bank holiday is on Monday 25th August.
And it starts tomorrow.
It's 40 days since St Swithin's Day.
When it rained.
n.b. It may not have rained for you but it rained where I was and that's what counts. I had to hide in a hedge near Heathrow to avoid getting drenched, and I thought ah well, rain every day until August 24th.
n.b. Obviously the St Swithin's legend has been disproved as rubbish, obviously, because dead Saxonbishops don't affect our weather. But I always enjoy testing a hypothesis with real data.
Here then is my day by day record of the 40 days after St Swithin's Day 2025.
If a day was wet - even one drop - I turned the square blue.
If a day was dry - i.e. no rain - I turned the square yellow.
I call it a SWITHINOMETER.
15
WET
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
n.b. Yes I know technically we don't know the colour of today's final square.
But I've seen the weather forecast for here in Norfolk and it's going to be yellow.
I will of course come back and change the table if this turns out to be incorrect.
n.b. Ah, it was incorrect. A few spots of rain on the windscreen outside the wedding barn mean I've had to recolour the table.
And indeed rewrite the post because it flipped the overall results.
You can see how the 40 days started out being mostly wet - St Swithin was doing well.
There were only five dry days in the first three weeks.
But then the weather changed (from low-pressure dominated to generally anticyclonic).
And only seven days in the last three weeks have been wet.
Here are the overall results.
July 15th
wet days
dry days
2025
wet
21
19
Another success there for the dead Saxon bishop.
His saint's day was wet, and the majority of the last 40 days have been wet.
It's by the slimmest of margins, but wet has beaten dry.
n.b. Technically it was supposed to be 40 wet days. But UK weather doesn't do 40 consecutive days of exactly the same thing, so I always count a majority as a win.
I've been recording the post-Swithin weather in my diary since 1980 so I have over 40 years of data.
I blogged about this in some depth back in 2022, so won't trawl over my four decades of personal data again.
But in summary St Swithin's Day has been dry 23 times and wet 18 times.
And Swithin then only predicted the dominant weather 24 times.
Here are the best St Swithin's Day predictions since 1980.
July 15th
wet days
dry days
1989
dry
7
33
1990
dry
7
33
In both 1989 and 1990 Swithin predicted dry weather and 82% of the subsequent days were dry.
The most successful 'wet' prediction was in 1985.
July 15th
wet days
dry days
1985
wet
32
8
No other year comes close.
But some predictions have been appallingly incorrect. Here are the worst two.
July 15th
wet days
dry days
1995
wet
6
34
2016
dry
33
7
Since 1980 Swithin's prediction has only been correct 54% of the time.
That's barely better than a coin flip.
In that time there have also been five 50/50 ties.
I should say this is all very dodgy data.
It's based on where I was in the country, not a specific location.
It's based on my observations, so I may have missed light rain while I was asleep.
Also my definition of wet is at least one raindrop, whereas most weather stations require more than a 'trace'.
Indeed, several of the blue squares in this year's table represent a mere brief splash, not a proper shower.
If I check the data from my favourite weather station in Hampstead, I get very different results.
July 15th
wet days
dry days
2025
dry (not wet)
7 (not 21)
33 (not 19)
This is because we've had a lot of days this summer with only a tiny bit of rain, which hasn't officially registered.
Indeed August in London has been ridiculously dry overall.
But I can finish off with one genuinely good conclusion.
This is because I have over 1600 days of data since 1980.
And on every single one of those days I have asked myself "did it rain today?"
Did it rain today?
yes
no
1980-2025
44%
56%
A lot of those will have been brief showers that didn't wreck the day.
But if you've ever thought "it rains quite often during the British summer, doesn't it?"
...the answer is yes it does.
Back to London's premier lost river, now on the descent from King's Cross to Clerkenwell along the approximate line of the Camden/Islington boundary. It's no coincidence that the Fleet once marked the divide, although previously the boroughs were St Pancras on one side and Finsbury on the other. There are very clear contours in the area, the roads dipping down from Bloomsbury and more steeply on the opposite flank, although the precise level of the valley has been disguised somewhat by subsequent development. In 1768 there are accounts of the river flooding four feet deep round here, carrying off three cattle and several pigs, whereas what's being swept away today is the old streetscape. Rows of fine Georgian terraces survive at the top of Pakenham Street, but look down Phoenix Place and pretty much nothing of what I saw 20 years ago remains.
The site to the left was once Coldbath Fields, source of yet another medicinal spring, and in 1794 a conveniently large open space on the edge of town on which to build a massive prison. The delightfully-named Middlesex House of Correction was originally used to house those waiting to be tried by magistrates, but later gained a fearsome reputation as a strict men-only institution with an enforced regime of silence. The governor was eventually dismissed following an inquiry and the prison closed in 1885. Enter the Post Office who purchased the site as somewhere to sort their parcels, a growing trade, creating what would soon be one of the largest sorting offices in the world. The upper section once used for parking hundreds of red vans was sold off a few years ago, inevitably for housing, as was the scrubby car park across the road. The resultant estate is called Postmark and has crammed in 681 luxury flats starting at £990,000, the sole enticing feature being the row of pillar-box-shaped vents along the central raised garden.
A more attractive local presence is the Postal Museum which opened at the top of Phoenix Place in 2017. Step inside for a first class display that clearly delivers, also a free-to-enter cafe (which may help explain why none of the commercial units at Postmark are yet occupied). A separate building houses the entrance to Mail Rail, once the GPO's subterranean delivery service and now a ride-on circuit where you take the place of the sacks. Its builders 100 years ago had to deal with all kinds of underground obstructions including the River Fleet, which is why heavy mid-tunnel floodgates are a feature on your way round. Royal Mail still sort parcels here in the remaining building at the lower end of the site which has been decorated with the names of postal towns between the windows. I smirked when I spotted a UPS van parked outside the delivery bay, and oh the irony as a brown-clad youth hopped out to deliver a package to a resident living on the site of the postmen's former car park.
The dip of the land is particularly pronounced along Mount Pleasant, a concave road that predates the Post Office's arrival. The street pattern was once very dense here alongside the fetid waters of the Fleet, a labyrinth of slums including Fleet Row, Red Lyon Yard and Wine Street. The Fleet Sewer replaced the earliest culverts in the 1860s following the line of Phoenix Place and Warner Street, then a decade later the Fleet Relief Sewer added extra capacity under parallel roads. A bigger intrusion was the construction of Rosebery Avenue in the late 1880s, necessitating a viaduct to be built across the valley to speed up through traffic and requiring considerable local demolition. However walking underneath along Warner Street still feels like stepping back in time, especially the echoing vaults of Clerkenwell Motors and the bleakly open staircase that connects the bustle up top to the cycle-friendly street down below.
As we continue south, the moment when this was the edge of built-up London gets ever earlier. For Ray Street this was around 1700, although at the time it went by the far less salubrious name of Hockley-in-the-Hole. Here the contours of the Fleet encouraged the creation of an infamous resort for the working classes, a natural amphitheatre at the foot of Herbal Hill where the City's low-life gathered to participate in violent sports. It was known as the Bear Garden, a place to watch and cheer on fighting creatures now the South Bank had been cleaned up. A flyer from 1710 reveals that at one event two market dogs were set upon a bull, a mad ass was baited, then another bull was turned loose with fireworks attached to is hide and two cats tied to his tail. The programme of events often included bearfights, cockfights, swordfights and bare knuckle bust-ups, although the worst of the behaviour shifted to Spitalfields in 1756 and the worst you'll find today is a pub. Which is closed.
The Coach was previously The Coach and Horses, a basic joint oft frequented by Guardian journalists when they were based just round the corner. Their HQ is now flats and the London base for LinkedIn, while The Coach reopened as a gastropub in 2018 (think grilled rabbit and onglet steak) and is currently on its second refit. Of far more interest on this safari is the drain cover out front, which 20 years ago was in the middle of the street but is now safely embraced by an extended pavement. This is another fabled location where the Fleet can be heard flowing through the pipework beneath the street, the sound particularly clear at present even though there's been barely any rain of late, so if you've never experienced the rush of a lost river this is the prime location to visit.
And so we hit Farringdon Road, which is reached up a brief slope because the land round here's been substantially reconstructed since a stream once ran downhill. Farringdon Road is one of the great engineering projects of the 19th century, simultaneously creating a major thoroughfare, shielding the first underground railway and burying a river. It's breadth here is striking, opening out into an arched chasm that splits the cityscape as trains emerge from tunnels on the approach to Farringdon station. One nominal remnant from the old days is the span of Vine Street Bridge, no longer open to through traffic but a great place to drop your Lime bike. Of greater relevance is the Clerk's Well, a source of water for the medieval Priory of St Mary and which ultimately gave Clerkenwell its name. It was rediscovered during building works in 1924 and can now be seen through the window of a lowly sales office whose tiny lobby is occasionally opened by Islington Museum, hence I was chuffed to get a closer look in June.
While the Fleet Sewer follows Farringdon Road the historic interest remains on the east side of the railway. Turnmill Street is ancient enough to be named after watermills on the medieval Fleet, and by Tudor times was filthy enough to have become one of London's most prominent red light districts. It's been scrubbed up a lot since, including the purest of officeblocks on the corner where Turnmills nightclub once stood. As for Cowcross Street this was once the route for cattle fording the Fleet - here the Turnmill Brook - on their way to market at Smithfield. It's now a pedestrianised road which divides the two entrances to Farringdon station, with the tube on one side, rail on the other and chuggers in the middle. Crossrail's engineers had to take account of a sewer following a tributary of the Fleet which crosses beneath the southeast corner of the ticket hall, meaning extra care had to be taken when digging out the shaft.
It's just beyond the station that the Fleet officially enters the City of London and Farringdon Road becomes Farringdon Street. Which'd be a good place to pause, I think, before concluding this Fleeting series next week.
Fleeting
