A lot of the Olympic travel advice we've been bombarded with asks us to take things on trust. It will be busy, there will be hundreds of thousands of extra passengers on the tube, Friday will be much busier than Thursday, you need to avoid certain stations, etc.
But I for one like to know why these things are the case, rather than follow the advice on GAOTG like sheep. Why, in particular, are some days at the Olympic Park going to be much busier than others? So I've thrown together the following table to try to work out how many events are taking place at each venue inside the Park, and how many spectators that equates to altogether.
I'm using the capacities published on the London2012.com website last year, since removed, which are almost certainly no longer 100% accurate. And I'm using the schedule published when tickets first went on sale, which detailed the number of sessions taking place in each venue each day. Tot all those up, multiply by the capacity of each venue when full, and you get the total number of visitors per day in the right hand column. I've rounded this off to the nearest ten thousand, to disguise the inaccuracies. But the end result ought to be roughly the right order of magnitude for each day's Olympic Park grand total.
The first day of the Games, the day when the Olympic Park has the fewest visitors of all, is the day with the most draconian travel warnings. The only event is the Opening Ceremony, watched by a mere 80000 spectators, but the organisers have adopted a zero risk approach to ensure that no accidental fiasco mars London 2012's debut on the global stage. Westfield's closing to shoppers at 3pm, and trains are running extra late into the early hours to get everyone home.
The only events in the Park on the first Saturday are swimming, basketball and handball, so expect the surrounding travel disruption to be relatively light. Then hockey and water polo kick in on the Sunday, and for most of the next week the number of people in the Park is steady at about 180,000. These are the six days (marked with an asterisk) when Olympic day passes were made available, topping up Park numbers by about twelve thousand each day, which isn't much to be honest. The Stratford area will still be very busy with athletes heading off to events at all the other venues around town, but the trains won't be quite as crowded as they're going to be.
Friday 3rd August is where spectator numbers really ramp up, with numbers almost doubling compared to the day before. This is the day athletics events begin in the Olympic Stadium, which means two bowlfuls of eighty thousand people suddenly added to the mix. There's a good reason why the slidy map on the Get Ahead of the Games website defaults to 3rd August, and that's because this is London 2012's busiest day. If you live in East London and you're planning only one day to work from home, this is the day to choose.
Thanks to the athletics, week 2 of the Games is much busier inside the Olympic Park than week 1. Roughly three hundred thousand spectators will be heading here, rather than the two hundred thousand of the week before, hence public transport round Stratford is going to be a lot more clogged. Notice how the Velodrome contributes almost nothing to this total. It's a relatively tiny venue with only 6000 seats, and there are only nine sessions in total... which helps explain why so few people got a ticket to a track cycling event.
After Thursday 9th August the numbers drop back again, mostly due to there being only one daily athletics session, not two. By this point all the basketball matches have relocated to North Greenwich, and all the handball to the Basketball Arena, so that cuts numbers too. It'll still be very busy, but the worst of the traffic disruption will be over. Then on the final day of the Games the Park returns to being relatively quiet, with only the basketball and water polo finals during the day, and the Closing Ceremony in the evening.
By the final Sunday nearly 4 million ticket-holders will have travelled to the Olympic Park - many of them on the trains you'd normally catch via the stations you'd normally pass through. And that's why you're being asked to keep out of the way, or replan your journeys, or switch to a different mode of travel, for a fortnight. Knowing all these spectator numbers won't make your Games-time travel any better, or any less full of curseworthy moments. But hopefully you now have a better idea why some days round Stratford will be far more of a battle than others, and when best to stay away.
If you've ever walked the Greenway between West Ham and Plaistow, you'll know there's a bridge over the District line where graffiti artists play. The two long walls make ideal canvases, often for several sprayers at a time, or perhaps just one earnest bloke in a woolly hat pondering quietly which aerosol to wield next. It was an ever changing display, as each new arrival had to decide which bit of the old canvas to paint over. I can't claim that the end result was a coherently impressive work of art, nor anything you'd travel out of your way to see. But the graffiti walls kept part of the local community occupied, and truly livened up this sewertop corner.
Here's the bridge in spring 2010, for example.
And then someone at the council took offence. Newham has Graffiti Control Officers, and they have their work cut out in other parts of the borough keeping a lid on offensive or plain ugly scrawl. The Greenway bridge they'd always given a wide berth... until one day suddenly two fences appeared. One set of metal railings went up on each side of the bridge, supposedly to bar access, except they were both at easily jumpable height. Any semi-determined tagger would have had no trouble clambering over the top, or indeed stepping up onto the ledge at either end and walking casually behind. As my next photo shows, these new railings proved absolutely zero deterrent whatsoever.
Here's the bridge in spring 2012, colourful as ever.
So now Newham has taken extreme measures. i) They've posted a stern warning on the railings which states "Graffiti is a criminal offence. Any persons found damaging or defacing property will be arrested." ii) They've painted the walls an incredibly depressing shade of grey, plus adjoining chunks of the parapet too. iii) They've only gone and hired a bloke to sit in a car at the end of the bridge to keep an eye on proceedings, lest graffiti erupts.
Here's the bridge in summer 2012, zero tolerance.
It's hard to describe just how miserable the end result is. Where previously there was a bright and lively stretch of street art, now there's a dour grey canyon watched over by a grumpy sentinel. The only remaining colour is the bright pink of Newham's warning sign, plus a splash of tagging sprayed defiantly on the ground.
You'd think this clampdown must be Olympics related, except we're five minutes in the wrong direction from the route thousands of spectators will be taking from West Ham station to the Olympic Park. They won't be coming this way, so they wouldn't have seen anything. Instead this appears to be part of a determined council campaign to wipe out graffiti in the borough, whatever the cost.
There are plenty of places where graffiti is a mess and best removed, but to go to the effort of installing barriers and a security guard on the Greenway bridge, surely that's a ridiculous over-reaction? What we have here is a joyless clampdown wasting time, salary and resources protecting a wall that was doing nobody any harm. Welcome to Newham.
In just nine days the public finally gains access to the Olympic Park. There'll then be photos aplenty of what the interior looks like (and, according to Ollie'sadvance shots, it looks spectacular). In the meantime I'm continuing and completing my walk around the perimeter, peering inside from outside.
Around the Olympic Park b) Eton Manor to Bow Roundabout 20 more photographs here; map here
• Eton Manor: The northern edge of the Olympic Park has by far the best road access, with the A12 dual carriageway running alongside. Spectators using Park and Ride services will be entering this way, but otherwise this side's mainly for staff and officials. Dozens of shuttle buses are already running on a variety of routes, with three letter abbreviations on a sign in the window the only indication of where they're heading. Round here, that's probably the Northern Transport Mall on Hackney's East Marsh, which is the size of every bus station in London merged together and then some. At the moment most of Stagecoach's buses are running empty, occasionally with a few contractors on board in official London 2012 yellow tabards, but before long they'll be the backroom lifeblood of the Games.
• Leyton: The extra pedestrian bridge over the railway on Ruckholt Road is now complete. But the High Road outside the tube station is still a complete mess, or was on Sunday, with half the pavements sealed off as well as direct access down to the Retail Park. Waltham Forest Council had better hurry up - the Olympic Flame is due on Saturday, and the world's coming soon after. Down at Drapers Field, throughflow is already brisk. Many of the people walking to and from this ex-recreation ground have official Olympic passes dangling from their necks, their names in black capitals flapping at approximately waist height. Some are accredited volunteers, some are security, others are simply going in to clean the athletes' rooms. When you see quite how many support staff the Games employ, it's a stark reminder of how many people are going to be out of a job in two months time.
• Leyton Road:This road is closed. A pair of contractors stand beside a row of cones, waiting to speak to any driver who heads this way and then, if necessary, urge them to negotiate an awkward five point turn back the way they came. Local residents with passes have access, as do buses heading between Leyton and Stratford, but otherwise the road beyond is unusually silent. It's great for pedestrians - we'll continue to be allowed passage throughout the Games, so no bottleneck diversion via Maryland for us. The Olympic Workforce have their own pink-signed entrance to the Park alongside Wheeler's social club, leading to a main access point behind the Olympic Village. The Railway Tavern awaits thirsty post-shift drinkers, its façade draped with a mixture of Union flags and official Newham Olympic bunting. Yet more vehicle screening is underway beyond the Westfield deliveries Check Point, increasingly more than a fortnight ago and set to ramp up further. You'll not see this side of the Games on television, but it remains crucial.
• Stratford: Meridian Square feels busy even at the quietest times. They flood in from the old and the new shopping centres, they flood in from the station, and they queue for buses, taxis, coaches, Burger King, whatever. The space has been... some would say redeveloped, I'd say cleared, enhancing access in readiness for increased footfall. The coffee cart has gone, and all minor commercial detritus removed, but evangelists still prowl the piazza by the bike racks seeking souls to save for Jesus. The pedestrian crossing outside the Stratford Centre recently gained a countdown timer, which might seem friendly, but the lights have also been reprogrammed to allow traffic much longer gaps between red. For the duration of the Games Stratford station is the plaything of Lloyds TSB, who've covered every available surface with cartoons of smiling bank customers. As you queue for your Jubilee line escape this summer, at least give thanks its not Barclays looking down from everywhere.
• Carpenters Estate: For an estate so close to the heart of Stratford, the Carpenters Estate is almost entirely off-radar. There's no through traffic, only winding backroads and plazas and grassy patches tucked away along the railway. It's one of Newham's poorest estates, comprising three 22-storey tower blocks and umpteen streets of lowrise brick tedium. The Games have provided some perks - the BBC's main 2012 studio is on top of Lund Point while Al Jazeera has a jazzy studio atop Dennison Point. But the council have their eye on the whole estate for comprehensiveredevelopment. Soon after Huw Edwards has left the building the last few highrise residents will be moved out and the tower blocks summarily demolished. Relocation's been underway for a while, not that the estate community is unanimous in wanting to leave because there'll likely not be room for them once the replacement flats are erected. Newbuild blocks along Warton Road are already taken by better-off incomers, piled into a different kind of uninspiring cuboid, as the influence of the Games transforms the Park fringe forever. Knocked up in the Sixties, knocked down in the Teens.
• Stratford High Street: The Games Lanes are prepared, the temporary signage is in place and the "Oi! Keep out!" messages are about to be uncovered. A lot of money has been spent upgrading Stratford High Street over the last few years - from artery to boulevard - all now with broad highways and pavements to match. A lot of the Games Family will be arriving this way, with the Southern Transport Mall for the less important and the direct route up Marshgate Lane for VIPs. Tesco have left it until the very last minute to squeeze in an Express store beneath the tallest apartment block. This opens Friday, poised first to sell convenience foods to Olympic spectators then to serve a captive audience of residents stacked above. Meanwhile residents of Blaker Road are having to put up with mandatory vehicles checks every time they drive home, every day for the next several weeks. Pudding Mill Lane DLR is very closed, so magenta signs direct would-be passengers to a station that's not on the same line, because that'll do, not because it's likely to be convenient. And look, we're back at the Bow Roundabout again, another Olympic circumnavigation complete. Flags aloft, jams ahoy, batten down the hatches.
Ten days to go. At one point it was 2578, and now it's ten. Hardly seems possible, to be honest. So I've been for another walk around the Olympic Park, this time slightly further out because several closer paths have now been sealed off. And a lot's changed, as preparations for London 2012 hype up for the endgame. Let's go round again.
Around the Olympic Park a) Bow Roundabout to Eton Manor 20 photographs here; map here
• Bow Roundabout: There have been no urgent updates to the cyclist or pedestrian facilities here in the last fortnight, but we do now have some pretty flowerbeds. Two sculptures which say "BOW" in big metal letters have recently been joined by long stone trench-shaped planters filled with earth. There are some red and pink flowers in them too, though they're a bit underwhelming at present and nothing that'll wow Olympic visitors over the next few weeks. At present the irrigation pipes look a bit unnecessary, but I'm sure their moment will come. All credit to the High Street 2012 team for brightening up the space under the flyover, and to whoever suggested the sculpture idea in the first place, well done.
• Bow West: A lot of people are coming to the Games by private vehicle, hence the need for screening areas dotted all around the perimeter of the Olympic Park. The latest is adjacent to the Old Ford junction on the A12, squeezed into an ex-semi-industrial site, allowing very important people access to the Park without having to join the queue driving up Stratford High Street. Workers were out adding the finishing touches to a magenta gateway at the weekend. And, best of all, there are now traffic lights on the overbridge, which makes walking or cycling along Wick Lane suddenly hugely safer.
• Dace Road: The top of the Greenway is sealed off and deserted, indeed has been for a while, at least until the Games begin and dismounted cyclists flood through to enter the Park via the Victoria Gate. At the other end of Dace Road, Old Ford Lock is also now inaccessible. The barriers are guarded by bona fide G4S security guards, whose job it is to tell cyclists and pedestrians the towpath's closed and would they mind please detouring elsewhere.
• The White Building: The area around Hackney Wick station is rammed with former warehouses that are now artists' studios, fantastically so, and now there's a new kid in town. The White Building opened on Saturday at the top of White Post Lane, allegedly a "new cultural venue focusing on innovation and creative practice at the intersection of art, technology and sustainability". The reality's not quite so cringeworthy. It's a white building, obviously, created in a derelict print works and funded by the London Legacy Development Corporation. The plan is for a combined studios and event space, plus a food and drink option to bring the punters in. A craft brewery with bar and pizzeria have taken the ground floor space, with tables along the riverbank for the quaffing of fine ale. Pizzas are £8-10 and look suitably artisan, if you're the youthful, trendy, beardy, hipster type. It all feels atypical for Hackney Wick and yet somehow ideal, as if the heart of Shoreditch just shifted three miles east.
• The Walls Have Ears: The graffitied brick walls of White Post Lane are being given a pre-Olympic spruce-up by the Bread Collective. They're out at the moment painting various phrases evocative of Hackney Wick's industrial past, and painting them beautifully too. The world's first plastic, "Parkesine", that's already up. Local speciality "Matchbox Cars", that's pencilled in. "Mint Creams" from the former Clarnico sweet factory, that was midway through being painted on Sunday afternoon. Even "Fridge Mountain" looks good daubed in bright bold colours. To protect their work, the Collective have stuck up witty posters saying "This is a community project and nothing to do with Coke". Alas the usual crowd of substandard taggers appear to have already sprayed their wares across some of the new works, and I fear it won't be long before they desecrate the lot.
• Open Our Towpath: E9's protesting cyclists organised another demonstration on Sunday. They cycled down the open section of the Lea towpath from the Lea Bridge Road, then politely harangued the quite frankly excessive security presence outside the Main Press Centre. That's the usual G4S security posse in their bivouac, a drafted-in vanful of Metropolitan Police and a miniboat with waterborne hi-vis officials. No soldiers for a change, although they were much in evidence at park entrances further along the Eastway. As the days tick by, the argument that the towpath should be reopened gets increasingly harder to win. But that won't stop them trying, so expect another demo next Sunday.
It's a measure of how seriously security is being taken at the Games that the UK's largest warship is currently moored on the Thames off Greenwich. HMS Ocean is the Royal Navy's amphibious assault ship and is a whopping 203m long, the size of a floating cathedral. She's here as a logistics base and helicopter HQ, with space for up to 18 Super Lynx helicopters on the upper deck. Four hundred service personnel will be stationed aboard during the Olympics, many of them providing security for the equestrian events here in Greenwich Park, the others supporting airborne and maritime security. And yesterday, for just five hours, members of the public were invitedaboard to have a look around. As surreal daytrips go, this was quite something.
The queue to embark was in the gardens of the Old Royal Naval College. I suspect the Royal Navy were expecting more people to turn up as they'd laid on recruitment-type activities, and a large marquee with far too many seats where you could watch an inspirational video. All the images showed Our Lads doing inspiring things, like fiddling with million pound machinery aboard big ships, and there were absolutely no shots of anybody standing around at Olympic checkpoints. Nobody seemed keen to stop and watch, they were all too keen to join the queue.
Somewhat surprisingly, security for would-be visitors was rubbish. Cadets gave our bags a minor once-over, then awarded a sticker to show we'd passed through their check-in tent. There were so many stickers lying around unsupervised on the table that anyone could have taken two, and indeed some did. The queue then mixed with general tourists in the new Greenwich riverside restaurant zone, where anyone could have swiftly nipped in, before heading down the jetty to embark. If I'd had an accomplice and wanted to sneak evil things onto the boat, it would have been simplicity itself.
No amphibious landing craft for us - instead we took a minor civilian boat out into the Thames and briefly upriver. Almost everyone on board had their cameras or smartphones aloft, because it's not every day you approach a giant warship from the bow end. There did seem to be an awful lot of helicopters up top, including I suspect the one which woke me up at stupid o'clock on Sunday morning low-flying its way to the Olympic Park. Once closer we could see a lot of aerials, and pipes, and potentially shooty-things, as well as large gaps along both sides from which various craft could be launched. And soon we arrived at HMS Ocean's floating pontoon, beside the proper naval landing craft, and ascending the shaky metal ladder several storeys high to enter the ship.
The ramp up to the flight deck was surprisingly steep, and broad, and long, requiring some careful sidestepping for those in inappropriate footwear to reach the summit. And we weren't being allowed any further than the top of the ramp - no wandering out onto the helicopter deck, nor even much hope of peering over the side for anyone of diminutive height. But here was the UK's Olympic chopper complement, ready for whatever surveillance or rescue tasks the next two months might require. Residents of penthouse apartments on the southern tip of the Isle of Dogs had better behave themselves during this time, or else keep their curtains firmly closed.
Back down the ramp, various marines were on hand to explain various aspects of their daily routine to their visitors. "Here, try this heavy backpack for size." "Hey kid, fancy some camouflage face paint?" "I have some real guns here, sir, and I know you so want to hold them." I resisted handling the weaponry and instead checked out some scran - the crew's daily rations when they're out on manoeuvre. One small cardboard box holds a day's worth of food in reheatable silver bags, with such culinary delights as chicken curry, baked beans and some tuna pastie thing. I sampled the all-day breakfast, no expense spared, which I can report tastes like tinned all-day breakfast rather than anything crispy fried and gorgeous.
Along, and round, and down a bit, we reached the main hangar at the heart of the ship. It's huge, absolutely ridiculously so, and plenty big enough to contain all the helicopters from up top or an entire squadron of troops. We couldn't quite walk all the way down, but far enough, past stores and dark recesses towards the flight deck lift and active areas of vehicledeployment. Long gone are the days when the interior of the Navy's premier ship might be deemed secret - instead we were encouraged to wander around and ask questions and take as many photos of everything as we liked.
Many more of the crew were stood round about with displays related to their on-board roles. The mechanics who keep everything flying showed off their mega toolkit. The blokes who tie knots for a living demonstrated their ropework. The proper caterers laid out a silver service meal like they serve the officers. The medics attempted interactive first aid, while the ship's dentist taught younger visitors how it takes two minutes to brush your teeth properly. The overall display brought home quite how many different interconnected roles are needed to keep a giant ship like this up and running. And there were of course a lot more weapons to fiddle with, because a lot of the jobs on board involve potentially causing harm.
That was enough, then it was back down the outer gangway, back to the boat and back to shore. The return trip sailed round the stern of the ship, offering close-up looking-up views of the helicopter deck, from which all the crews waved back like we was some kind of school trip. They're a cheery and professional bunch, HMS Ocean's crew, as no doubt yesterday's open day was meant to prove. And they've all got special sew-on London 2012 badges on their right sleeve, because they're part of the planned deployment and not the last minute G4S replacement draft.
It's not your usual Royal Navy campaign this, moored off Greenwich just upriver from M&S and Nando's. But East London's military takeover's not just an iron fist, it has a human face. And next time I'm woken by a low flying helicopter, I will at least know precisely who to blame.
Today's post is brought to you using data from nw3weather.co.uk, an automatic weather station located on the southern edge of Hampstead Heath. It's a fantastic amateur site, if you like meteorological statistics, with real time and archive data available in graphical and tabular form. The site owner admits that the data isn't necessarily 100% accurate, but it's a lot more accessible than anything the Met Office might churn out. With this summer's rain showers being especially hit and miss, there's also no guarantee that the rainfall data from Hampstead matches the rest of London. But I needed to pick one location and stick to it, so Hampstead's as good as anywhere.
Each graphic below shows the weather for one month in calendar form. Weeks start on Sunday and end on Saturday. I've used one symbol per day, with the raincloud meaning it rained at some point during the 24 hours from midnight to midnight. The sunshine symbol simply means it didn't rain, not that it was necessarily sunny.
Today is StSwithun'sDay - the 1150th anniversary of the day Bishop Swithun of Winchester was buried in 862AD. Legend has it that if it rains on July 15th it will continue to rain for the next forty days. It's a rubbish legend, obviously, based on zero observational evidence and a series of apocryphal stories. But with the jet stream locked into a persistent meander to the south of the British Isles, maybe this summer there might be something to St Swithun's rhyme after all.
Remember March? March was glorious, at least relative to other Marches, with a succession of unbroken dry days throughout the month. Only three days were wet, with half the month's rainfall falling on Sunday 4th. It was the the UK's driest March since 1953, contributing to that long-term drought which - you remember - everyone was oh so worried about. March seems such a long time ago now.
Then came April. A hosepipe ban kicked in during the first week of April, and the weather turned almost immediately. It rained and rained and rained, a total of 20 days altogether, with almost all of the second half of the month being wet. At Hampstead there were nearly four inches of rain in April, 75% more than usual, and across the UK it was the wettest April on record. It feels like it hasn't stopped since.
But May got better. The first half of May continued wet, then bang in the middle of the month the weather switched back to warm and dry with blue skies. This balancing act meant that, overall, May turned out pretty much average. The only rain in the entire second half of the month was a trace on Wednesday 30th. It would have been a glorious bank holiday weekend, if only this hadn't been held back for the Jubilee.
June wasn't good. Every single day of the extended Jubilee weekend was wet, with Pageant day (June 3rd) the third wettest day of 2012 so far. By the end of the month there had been 18 wet days, almost as many as in April, although rainfall totals were actually higher. Hampstead got double its usual June rainfall, peaking with more than an inch on Monday 11th. Across the UK it was the wettest June on record... although the last week of the month was warm and dry - you've probably forgotten that already.
And here's July so far. July so far has been foul. We've already had twelve wet days, more than in the whole of May, and we're not yet even halfway through the month. Only Sunday 1st and Thursday 5th have been dry, and in just the last week we've had more than the average monthly rainfall. Sure,this sort of thing happens sometimes - the English summer is notoriously fickle. But it's rare for so many records to be be broken, and rare for decent sunny weather to be so persistently absent.
Which brings us to St Swithun's Day. Saturday's heavy showers all passed through before midnight, so it's just possible that Sunday 15th might be an atypical dry day. If the legend is correct this means 40 dry days, right up to the August Bank Holiday. But more likely the jet stream will fire yet more showers across the UK and we'll get nearer 40 days of rain.
Olympic officials are praying for dry, because nothing will dampen the public's spirits quicker than a fortnight of relentless rain. Having attended the BMX test event last summer where it chucked it down, I know that the organisers are well prepared for prolonged downpours. But as a spectator it's hard to enjoy an outdoor event when you're forever running for cover, or when the selfish witch sat in front of you sticks her umbrella up.
St Swithun's day if thou be fair, for forty days 'twill rain nae mare. We can but hope.
With less than a fortnight until the Games, the E15 shutdown continues. The latest casualty is Pudding Mill Lane DLR, an entire station, which closed last night and won't reopen for two months. It's the closest station to the Olympic Park, indeed it's the only station inside the Olympic Park, which is the reason you'll not be allowed to alight there during the Games. A lifeline's been kept open down to Marshgate Lane for the last few weeks, but now it's time to finish off the preparations and seal the security perimeter. Which is a shame, because the platforms have been the best place of late to view the interior of the Olympic Park, and now they aren't.
They've been busier, the platforms at Pudding Mill Lane. Back when the Park was being built there were crowds of men in suits and construction workers passing through, and a genuine rush hour every morning and evening. Then there were the tourists, rather more than you might expect, come to see the Stadium from the Greenway and maybe have a cuppa at the View Tube. They don't come any more, the builders or the tourists, and on a damp Friday evening it's more than a little deserted around here.
There's quite a panorama from the elevated platform. To the north is what looks like the site of a jousting tournament, surrounded by a ring of virgin-white pointy tents. The magenta drapes along the fence reveal otherwise, with their London 2012 branding and the slogan "Inspire a generation". There's an entire mini athletics centre here, acting as the official Olympic warm-up track. I'm pleased to say that the ghastly drainage problems they were having back in May appear to have cleared up, and the two central spaces are now covered with lush green grass. Round to the right the Stadium is now fully dressed for the Games, with its unsponsored wrap hanging down like a row of very sharp white teeth. Spectators won't be allowed out here, but a series of tents on the Greenway will allow security and the media an up-close view of the southern tip of the Park.
Meanwhile, as the final security curtain descends, the Pudding Mill Lane area is rapidly becoming Squaddie Central. They started moving in a fortnight ago, well before the latest media rumpus blew up, and they're everywhere along the walk up to the station from Marshgate Lane. Most are sat in small groups beside the entrances to things, like the electricity substation by the river or the vehicle screening areas. Some kind soul has given them a 2012-branded magenta/purple parasol, an appalling clash with the khaki of their uniforms, but sufficiently large to keep off any shower of rain so long as it's not horizontal. At the moment they have DLR passengers to keep an eye on, but it's going to get a lot more boring once we potentially shifty travellers have gone.
A few of these army youngsters are stationed by the "Road Closed" notice, as if to dissuade any last minute commuters from wandering into this protected zone. They occasionally wander off down the road, mentioning semi-secret things you probably shouldn't be listening to, then giving you a shifty look in case you have. They've got some portakabins beyond the fence, presumably with some sort of office-y, toilet-y, shelter-y facilities within. Eventually the tents alongside will be a busy hub for the checking-over of official vehicles, which'll be great when there are coachloads arriving, but isn't that great a job a fortnight before the Games. One poor van had the misfortune to be the only vehicle beneath the marquee and was being swarmed over by at least twenty cadets, one with a mirror on a stick, the others mostly watching.
Back at Pudding Mill Lane DLR, peering down from the platform, I spotted a group of four squaddies with a novel way of keeping entertained while absolutely no terrorists whatsoever threatened the immediate vicinity. They'd found something to chuck, and were using a giant black and yellow pipe across the road as the net in an impromptu game of volleyball. I'm not sure they'd got as far as scoring but there was definitely a game going on, one of the first competitive volleyball matches this summer in the Olympic Park. And who can blame them, drafted in possibly at the last minute because official security company G4S are inept. There may now be a no-fly zone overhead, and international adversaries preparing their assault, but Stratford's no Afghanistan. Best they close the station now before we spot any more of Our Brave Boys protecting London 2012 with fun and Games.
Saturday update:Pudding Mill Lane DLR is indeed now closed, and big metal gates have clunked shut to prevent pedestrian access from Stratford High Street. Trains still stop because the station's on the only passing loop between Stratford and Bow Church, but the doors don't open and there are signs on the platform saying "Station closed". Lingering here's not necessarily a bad thing. An eastbound DLR journey is now the best way of viewing the southern Olympic Park, and will remain so throughout the Games. Plus the DLR's Olympic timetable kicked in this morning, which means extremely frequent trains to and from Stratford - entirely unnecessarily so at the moment, but who's complaining?
200 years ago today, the Act of Parliament which created the Regent's Canal was passed.
An Act for making and maintaining a navigable Canal from the Grand Junction Canal in the Parish of Paddington, to the River Thames in the Parish of Limehouse, with a Collateral Cut in the Parish of St Leonard Shoreditch, in the County of Middlesex. [13th July 1812] [The Company of Proprietors of the Regent's Canal incorporated]
I could tell you all about the history. I could show you lots of photos. But no, let's do a proper London blogpost for a change...
The Regent's Canal - ten of the best
There's much to love about Little Venice, the quaint corner of Maida Vale where the Regent's Canal begins. And there's much to love at Café Labelle, the long-established coffee paradise on Warwick Avenue. Here, within a few hundred yards of ancient waters, Sally and her staff delight customers with hand-crafted mochas and deep-swirled lattes. "We use only the finest aromatic beans," says barista Justin, "and our regular patrons certainly keep coming back for more."
It's a different world beside the bridge on the Edgware Road. Cassandra's Boutique has been serving local fashionistas since 1997 with its quirky collection of accessories and womenswear. If it's appeared on the Paris catwalk, it'll be here within weeks, and at an affordable price. "Passion and style are at the heart of everything we do," according to owner-buyer Marie Johnson. "When you step out onto the street after our bespoke fitting, you'll look a million dollars for only a few hundred pounds."
After almost half a mile, near Lord's cricket ground, you'll no doubt be ready to stop for a snack and a drink. Where better than The Gingerbread House, the cottage-nook on the corner where taste and quality combine? For just £8.95 you can enjoy an afternoon tea which includes organic strawberry jam and the finest Cotswold-baked cupcakes. "Our customer loyalty card scheme is second to none," says proprietor Heather, "with one free pineapple muffin for every dozen purchased."
Few can resist the canalside delights of Camden Town and its vibrant streetlife. Indeed, crowds of trend-setting youths come from all over the world to enjoy fresh-fried noodles at Laplaya Bianco, the Pan-Asian stall at the heart of the Dock complex. Follow your nose to the waterside and the aromatic flavours will guide your way. "After a hard day's shopping for Doc Martens," jokes chef Kim, "our steaming trays really recharge the soul."
It's all change at the rear of King's Cross Station with the arrival of a brand new business and retail district. But what's really got students and office workers excited is the sizzling barbecue on the trailer at New York Pork. Pulled ribs and chilli fries are the trademark dish, and this flies off the griddle every lunchtime at the top of King's Boulevard. "Street food is the new cordon bleu," affirms founder Mike De Marco, "and we're proud to be London's latest ambassadors of cool."
In Islington, the Regent's Canal plunges beneath the main shopping centre via a lengthy tunnel. For any canal walkers above, this detour provides the perfect opportunity to dip into Strawberry Moon, the finest giftstore in the N1 postcode. If it's sustainable knitwear and ethnic trinkets you want, you're in the right place. "We've had the very best reaction since opening here," says owner Elaine, "and our regular clientèle clearly love the unique bijou selection."
Hoxton's nightlife is legendary, none more so than in the area backing down to the canal towpath. In this entertainment quarter, it falls to The Royal Wellington to provide cocktails to die for. Here it's happy hour all evening, courtesy of Yeoman's Vanilla Vodka, and that's the way the crowds like it. "I'll mix you a White Russian you'll never forget," grins champion cocktail shaker Dario, "and it's all thanks to the great guys at Yeoman."
Broadway Market is the Regent's Canal's newest hipster hotspot. The street market's always rammed at weekends, and part of the appeal is the spicy home-cooked food on offer at Geppettos. Will it be crispy fried duck wings or scoops of quinoa - it's so hard to choose. "We may be best known for our chocolate tapas," says top honcho Ella, "but this weekend we're debuting chorizo pesto, and I know that's going to be a new favourite."
Bugger all happens in Mile End, but there is a Budgens under the Green Bridge if you fancy a sandwich.
At Limehouse, the 200 year old Regent's Canal finally enters the Thames. A short walk up Narrow Street is Sticklebacks, the celebrity fish restaurant, which is the ideal location to enjoy a bicentenary meal. "All praise to the Company of Proprietors of the Regent's Canal," says TV chef Alain Debarge. "Through their efforts a beautiful and practical waterway was driven through the heart of the capital, fortuitously linking some of our finest cafés, bars and restaurants. London owes them a great deal, and we hope you'll come down this weekend to celebrate."
You can walk almost all the way down the River Lea, fifty miles in total, from Bedfordshire right down to London. But when you reach Bromley-by-Bow, it all goes wrong. The last mile and a half is a dead end, followed by no path at all, followed by a contorted meander. The official Lea Valley Walk gives up on the area altogether and diverts instead down the Limehouse Cut to reach the Thames. Meanwhile the lower Lower Lea valley remains the haunt of light industry and abandoned dockyards, inaccessible to the public, hidden from view. It's a terrible lost opportunity, as the river keeps communities apart, and almost nobody ever visits.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Major plans were devised five years ago to complete the Lea's last link with a fresh footpath. This was to be called the Fatwalk - a laughably ridiculous name, but if it came with money, what the hell. Detailed designs for a 6km linear park were put together. It took some doing, but by 2010 full planning permission had been agreed and £28m of funding was confirmed. Expectations were that phase 1, joining Three Mills to the East India Dock, would be complete before the Olympics. But here we are with a fortnight to go, and sadly nothing's happened.
The first fracture is to the south of the District line, where the River Lea joins up with the Lee Navigation. The Lea Valley Walk squeezes down a thin strip between the two to reach Bow Locks, which it crosses over a gorgeous snakelikewhite bridge. But that leads only to the A12 and thence to Limehouse, whereas the direct route to the Thames ought to be on the opposite bank. And there is a footpath on the other side, it's just really hard to get to, with no direct connection. Fatwalk planners considered several possible linkages, and decided the simplest would be a staircase connecting the lower path with Twelvetrees Crescent Bridge above. Easy, except that in these days of disabled access there had to also be a lift, and that made things much more complicated (and expensive), and the proposed staircase never materialised.
If you do make it across to the east bank (and it is possible, just well hidden), you'll find a very different riverside. A trading estate has recently been established here, the closest building being a waste management centre relocated from the site of the Olympic Stadium. As part of Newham's terms and conditions a broad embankment was created, complete with lighting, lawn and the occasional bench. It's a dead end at the moment, a good ten minute walk down to nowhere and back, but the ideal spot for workers hereabouts to pop out for a fag or lunchtime sandwich. If the Fatwalk is ever completed this'll be an integral part - a quick win - but until then it's a fantastically remote deserted secret.
Pick the right weather conditions and this short stretch of river along Poplar Reach is a photographer's dream. I took my camera down the last time we had perfect blue skies, which I think was back in May, and snapped some golden hour treats. The reeds around the adjacent meander are teeming with birdlife, but the true attraction is the astonishing contrast of buildings on the opposite bank. In the distance are the many and several wealthy towers of Canary Wharf. In front of them is Ernö Goldfinger's brutalist BalfronTower - viewed from here apparently of an equivalent height. Closer by is a pile of stacked-up red containers, acting as offices and studios on Gillender Street. And all along the Tower Hamlets riverbank are warehouses, caravans, gasholders, trucks and tyres - everything you could possible need for a touch of contrasting brownfield angst. I can't decide which of the photos I took is my favourite, probably this one, maybe this. Perhaps a flick through my slideshow will help you make up your mind.
The Fatwalk stumbles at the entrance to Cody Dock, where a metal barrier and watery inlet block the way. It shouldn't be this way. Cody Dock has been derelict for years, too disconnected ever have been regenerated, but there are plans afoot to change that. A group of hard-working volunteers have grand plans to transform this backwater into a public space with live/work studios, community gardens and a brand new footbridge. Alas time and money are not on their side. They've raised about half of the £140K they need to make a proper start on transformation, but their funding deadline's only 11 days away and there's a real danger all their aspirations will be lost. A few public donations aren't really going to cut it - this needs some business or philanthropist to step in, and fast.
It's easy to see the A13 a short distance down the river, but there's no way to get there without retracing your steps back to Twelvetrees and walking another mile down grim roads. This is the grand disconnect the Fatwalk was supposed to heal, with plans to build a footbridge here across the Lea to link Tower Hamlets and Newham together. Folk on the Aberfeldy Estate in particular have no access to the river at the moment, and this would make a huge difference in opening the area up.
The big problem is the need for compulsory purchase agreements to be completed hereabouts before a continuous link can be completed. For legal reasons this has to be done by the London Thames Gateway Development Corporation, except that's being wound up in October, and the replacement organisation doesn't have the power or the motivation to make a difference. If the Greater London Authority acts now it could rescue the Fatwalk project, if anyone there can be bothered, else the whole scheme is likely to collapse and a once-in-a-generation opportunity will be squandered. It may have a bloody stupid name, the Fatwalk, but it's in serious danger of being the Olympic legacy project that got away.
» Fatwalk overview: here, here, here; map » Detailed Fatwalk documentation: here, here, here » Here's a plea from 5th Studio, the design practice behind the Fatwalk project. » "The Fatwalk is so named because it aspires to be more than just a narrow footpath or cycleway. It will be a generous sized parkland route which provides opportunities for new activities and uses within the valley, uniting existing open spaces, and playing an important role in linking new park spaces in the future."
» You can readmore about Cody Dock, and support them financially, here. » And everyone's invited to the Cody Dock Opening Day on Saturday 21st July. There'll be guided tours, a BBQ & pig roast, performances aboard The Fun Bus, and the chance to sign up and help them out. Worthy stuff.
When I got off the bus in the evening rush hour the rain was chucking down. It was ghastly. I should have been able to walk straight into the station but there were metal barriers in the way with some official looking people stood behind. They were stood in the dry and I was in the wet. It was ghastly. There was a sign next to them pointing towards something but all the text was really small and I didn't get close enough to be able to read it. It was traumatic. I had to walk down the forecourt and back for at least thirty seconds, getting wetter in the process. It was ghastly. A big sign asked those for platforms 1-6 to split off from those for platforms 8-16, except we hadn't walked past the platform indicators yet so I didn't know which platform number I needed. I was very damp. A member of staff was perfectly positioned so I asked him which way it was for Lewisham and he immediately told me what turned out to be the correct answer. I was shocked. Once inside the station the usual route through to platforms 1-6 was blocked and absolutely nobody was coming the other way. I shuddered at the indignity of it all. All of the shops in the main concourse were on the other side of the barriers, and they were shuttered and closed. They must have been losing thousands in trade. It must have been awful for them. The next sign required a split between platforms 1-4 and 5-6, but I still had no clue which lane I needed. Again a member of staff was perfectly positioned so I asked him which platform it was for Lewisham. He checked the timetable printout in his hand and quickly told me the time and platform of the next train. Unprompted he also gave me the details of the second train in case I missed the first. It was ghastly. Next came quite a long walk down a completely different platform. It turned out both of the split lanes went to the same place. It was pointless. I had to go up a staircase to the new footbridge, then along past lots of people and down to platform 4. It was lengthy. My train was just pulling out. I had missed it, solely because of the temporary diversion. It was ghastly. But I knew what to do. I went back up the stairs and across the footbridge and down to platform 1. The next train pulled in three minutes later. I got on it and went to Lewisham. I had suffered a minor delay and been made to walk slightly further than usual. To be honest, it hadn't been ghastly at all. As you might not have heard.
If you're going to the Games you're probably not walking, but you could. The Ramblers are leading free walks to and from 2012 venues "as a healthy, sustainable alternative to other modes of transport", to "beat the crowds" and to "see the sites". They're not necessarily not going to your venue at your time, but with 150 led walks to choose from you might get lucky. Check and maybe book here. And if you can't join them, maybe you'd be interested in downloading the route and walking it yourself some other time, with all the points of interest picked out along the way. » To the Olympic Park from...Mile End, St Pancras, East Ham, Dalston, Tottenham Hale » To the North Greenwich Arena from...Canary Wharf » To Earls Court from...Fulham Broadway » To Hyde Park from...Liverpool Street » To Horseguards Parade from...Victoria » From ExCel to...Canning Town » AlsoWembley, Weymouth, Eton Dorney, Cheshunt, Hadleigh Farm
If you're going to the Games you're probably not cycling, but you could. Sustrans and BikeBuddies have been appointed by the Olympic Development Authority to develop and run a series of Led Cycle Rides. They're not necessarily not going to your venue at your time, but with 300 rides to choose from you might get lucky. Check and maybe book here. You need to bring your own bike, but you can park it at the far end. And if you can't join them on the day, maybe you'd be interested in downloading the route and riding it yourself some other time, just for the Olympic heck of it. » To the Olympic Park from...Beckton Alps, White Hart Lane, Tower Bridge, Sadlers Wells » To Horseguards Parade from...Peckham, Arsenal FC » To Greenwich Park from...City Hall, Catford » To ExCel from...Tower Bridge » To Earls Court from...Kew Gardens » To the North Greenwich Arena from...the Design Museum » Also to...Eton Dorney, Weymouth, Lee Valley White Water Centre, Hadleigh Farm
2 Willow Road Location: Hampstead, NW3 1TH [map] Open: Wednesday - Sunday (closed Mon, Tue) Hourly tours: 11am, 12 noon, 1pm, 2pm (also open 3pm-5pm) Admission: £6 (free to NT members) Brief summary: Modernist house by the Heath Website:nationaltrust.org.uk/2-willow-road Time to set aside: just over an hour
The National Trust took some persuading. They had nothing else like 2 Willow Road on their books - indeed back in the 1980s they had barely anything else 20th century under their protection. But this Modernist house in Hampstead became available suddenly after the owner's death, and the NT raised the money in time, and now it's one of their most atypical properties. On the edge of the Heath, just up the hill from the Royal Free and the Overground, in a terrace you might not give a second look if you didn't realise its importance.
The house's creator, and first resident, was the Hungarian architect Ernö Goldfinger. Born in 1902, he'd studied in Paris where he met wife-to-be Ursula of the Crosse & Blackwell tinned foods dynasty. Their marriage brought him to London to set up his own practice, specialising in Modernist styles, and it wasn't long before he decided to design and build his own home. Hampstead was the up and coming location for leftfield artists in those days, so Ernö snapped up a row of derelict cottages and planned to redevelop them into something special. Neighbours objected vigorously, neighbours including author Ian Fleming, but the development went ahead anyway and Goldfinger lived on Willow Road for half a century.
The house is flat-roofed with concrete beneath and brick facing, with three storeys visible at the front and four at the rear. The terrace contains three homes altogether, with number2 at the centre, twice the width of the others. It's mostly garages at ground level because Ernö was a bit of a car nut, and the National Trust have turned one of these into a mini-cinema for today's visitors. If you take the hourly tour, you'll hear lots on the way in about the downstairs entrance hall. Small touches like the glass-backed letterbox or the cistern-free toilet. Original artwork like the signed cartoon on the wall and the postwar sculpture in the stairwell. Just be careful you don't hear too much about the downstairs entrance hall, else there won't be enough of your hour left to see the meat of the house in the living quarters upstairs.
The spiral staircase with its strung rope banister is the only access between floors, creating a central lightwell. Two main rooms take up the entire first floor, although these can be subdivided with careful use of sliding walls. On the heath side are a dining area and study, plus a tiny kitchen on a sub-Nigella scale. Everything's still set out much as it would have been when Ursula and Ernö were here, right down to the piles of planning folders on the study shelves and the arty accoutrements on the shelf along the front window. They liked their art, the Goldfingers, helped by having many modern artists as near neighbours and inviting them over to exhibit occasionally. An early Henry Moore, an original Bridget Riley, a variety of plasticky canvasy sculpty things - they're all still on display here and getting a regular dusting.
Up another level, the bedroom is perhaps best described as austere. Ernö designed all his own furniture, and the low bed probably took him less time than most. The nursery's a little warmer, helped by an elevated view of the plush garden out back. This is surprisingly large, at least for round here, mostly at the expense of the two neighbours who've been carved out rather less. Visit 2 Willow Road this year and on the nursery wall you'll see a large photograph of the Balfron Tower, one of Ernö's more memorable public buildings. It's a highrise in Poplar, the smaller sibling of Notting Hill's famous Trellick, and this wall-high image of the building's residents is part of an artist-in-residence project (which I've written about before).
If you choose to take one of the hourly tours, your expert guide will fill you in on all the house's finer details. It's probably a much better bet to take the tour than to wander round by yourself during the post-3pm free-for-all, because a house full of stuff isn't quite the same without the accompanying stories. Yes, Ernö did love an argument, because he always thought he was right. Yes, he was the inspiration for James Bond's evil adversary Goldfinger, and even threatened to sue Ian Fleming over his choice of name. Yes, he painted the front pillars grey and the stairwell doors red for a reason. And yes, this is a very different London house to visit to most of the others on the regular tourist trail. One careful owner, viewing recommended.
Around the Olympic Park
• Eton Manor: The northern edge of the Olympic Park has by far the best road access, with the A12 dual carriageway running alongside. Spectators using Park and Ride services will be entering this way, but otherwise this side's mainly for staff and officials. Dozens of shuttle buses are already running on a variety of routes, with three letter abbreviations on a sign in the window the only indication of where they're heading. Round here, that's probably the Northern Transport Mall on Hackney's East Marsh, which is the size of every bus station in London merged together and then some. At the moment most of Stagecoach's buses are running empty, occasionally with a few contractors on board in official London 2012 yellow tabards, but before long they'll be the backroom lifeblood of the Games.
• Leyton Road: This road is closed. A pair of contractors stand beside a row of cones, waiting to speak to any driver who heads this way and then, if necessary, urge them to negotiate an awkward five point turn back the way they came. Local residents with passes have access, as do buses heading between Leyton and Stratford, but otherwise the road beyond is unusually silent. It's great for pedestrians - we'll continue to be allowed passage throughout the Games, so no bottleneck diversion via Maryland for us. The Olympic Workforce have their own pink-signed entrance to the Park alongside Wheeler's social club, leading to a main access point behind the Olympic Village. The Railway Tavern awaits thirsty post-shift drinkers, its façade draped with a mixture of Union flags and official Newham Olympic bunting. Yet more vehicle screening is underway beyond the Westfield deliveries Check Point, increasingly more than a fortnight ago and set to ramp up further. You'll not see this side of the Games on television, but it remains crucial.
• Carpenters Estate: For an estate so close to the heart of Stratford, the Carpenters Estate is almost entirely off-radar. There's no through traffic, only winding backroads and plazas and grassy patches tucked away along the railway. It's one of Newham's poorest estates, comprising three 22-storey tower blocks and umpteen streets of lowrise brick tedium. The Games have provided some perks - the BBC's main 2012 studio is on top of Lund Point while Al Jazeera has a jazzy studio atop Dennison Point. But the council have their eye on the whole estate for comprehensive redevelopment. Soon after Huw Edwards has left the building the last few highrise residents will be moved out and the tower blocks summarily demolished. Relocation's been underway for a while, not that the estate community is unanimous in wanting to leave because there'll likely not be room for them once the replacement flats are erected. Newbuild blocks along Warton Road are already taken by better-off incomers, piled into a different kind of uninspiring cuboid, as the influence of the Games transforms the Park fringe forever. Knocked up in the Sixties, knocked down in the Teens.
• Bow Roundabout: There have been no urgent updates to the cyclist or pedestrian facilities here in the last fortnight, but we do now have some pretty flowerbeds. Two sculptures which say "BOW" in big metal letters have recently been joined by long stone trench-shaped planters filled with earth. There are some red and pink flowers in them too, though they're a bit underwhelming at present and nothing that'll wow Olympic visitors over the next few weeks. At present the irrigation pipes look a bit unnecessary, but I'm sure their moment will come. All credit to the High Street 2012 team for brightening up the space under the flyover, and to whoever suggested the sculpture idea in the first place, well done.
• Forman's: The luckiest salmon smokery in London continues to exploit its re-location adjacent to the Olympic Park. Their penthouse art gallery just hosted an impressively sport-themed display by the East London Printmakers, and on Thursday Muhammed Ali is dropping in to open an exhibition celebrating himself. Honest. The gallery's got the best remaining view of the Olympic Stadium, especially if you wander out onto their astroturfed roof terrace... which will shortly be part of their premium Games hospitality option. The Fish Island Riviera opens next week, for any corporate soul with a budget to splash, although it's looking anything but Mediterranean at the moment. A row of white prefabs is up, but empty. A line of palm trees decorates the otherwise deciduous riverside. And inbetween there's no sand, no cocktail bar, no beach volleyball court, not yet... just workmen hurrying to dress up the car park to international jetset standards before the paying customers arrive.
• The Walls Have Ears: The graffitied brick walls of White Post Lane are being given a pre-Olympic spruce-up by the Bread Collective. They're out at the moment painting various phrases evocative of Hackney Wick's industrial past, and painting them beautifully too. The world's first plastic, "Parkesine", that's already up. Local speciality "Matchbox Cars", that's pencilled in. "Mint Creams" from the former Clarnico sweet factory, that was midway through being painted on Sunday afternoon. Even "Fridge Mountain" looks good daubed in bright bold colours. To protect their work, the Collective have stuck up witty posters saying "This is a community project and nothing to do with Coke". Alas the usual crowd of substandard taggers appear to have already sprayed their wares across some of the new works, and I fear it won't be long before they desecrate the lot.
It's a measure of how seriously security is being taken at the Games that the UK's largest warship is currently moored on the Thames off Greenwich. HMS Ocean is the Royal Navy's amphibious assault ship and is a whopping 203m long, the size of a floating cathedral. She's here as a logistics base and helicopter HQ, with space for up to 18 Super Lynx helicopters on the upper deck. Four hundred service personnel will be stationed aboard during the Olympics, many of them providing security for the equestrian events here in Greenwich Park, the others supporting airborne and maritime security. And yesterday, for just five hours, members of the public were invited aboard to have a look around. As surreal daytrips go, this was quite something.
Along, and round, and down a bit, we reached the main hangar at the heart of the ship. It's huge, absolutely ridiculously so, and plenty big enough to contain all the helicopters from up top or an entire squadron of troops. We couldn't quite walk all the way down, but far enough, past stores and dark recesses towards the flight deck lift and active areas of vehicle deployment. Long gone are the days when the interior of the Navy's premier ship might be deemed secret - instead we were encouraged to wander around and ask questions and take as many photos of everything as we liked.
Remember March? March was glorious, at least relative to other Marches, with a succession of unbroken dry days throughout the month. Only three days were wet, with half the month's rainfall falling on Sunday 4th. It was the the UK's driest March since 1953, contributing to that long-term drought which - you remember - everyone was oh so worried about. March seems such a long time ago now.
Then came April. A hosepipe ban kicked in during the first week of April, and the weather turned almost immediately. It rained and rained and rained, a total of 20 days altogether, with almost all of the second half of the month being wet. At Hampstead there were nearly four inches of rain in April, 75% more than usual, and across the UK it was the wettest April on record. It feels like it hasn't stopped since.
But May got better. The first half of May continued wet, then bang in the middle of the month the weather switched back to warm and dry with blue skies. This balancing act meant that, overall, May turned out pretty much average. The only rain in the entire second half of the month was a trace on Wednesday 30th. It would have been a glorious bank holiday weekend, if only this hadn't been held back for the Jubilee.
June wasn't good. Every single day of the extended Jubilee weekend was wet, with Pageant day (June 3rd) the third wettest day of 2012 so far. By the end of the month there had been 18 wet days, almost as many as in April, although rainfall totals were actually higher. Hampstead got double its usual June rainfall, peaking with more than an inch on Monday 11th. Across the UK it was the wettest June on record... although the last week of the month was warm and dry - you've probably forgotten that already.
And here's July so far. July so far has been foul. We've already had twelve wet days, more than in the whole of May, and we're not yet even halfway through the month. Only Sunday 1st and Thursday 5th have been dry, and in just the last week we've had more than the average monthly rainfall. Sure,this sort of thing happens sometimes - the English summer is notoriously fickle. But it's rare for so many records to be be broken, and rare for decent sunny weather to be so persistently absent.
There's quite a panorama from the elevated platform. To the north is what looks like the site of a jousting tournament, surrounded by a ring of virgin-white pointy tents. The magenta drapes along the fence reveal otherwise, with their London 2012 branding and the slogan "Inspire a generation". There's an entire mini athletics centre here, acting as the official Olympic warm-up track. I'm pleased to say that the ghastly drainage problems they were having back in May appear to have cleared up, and the two central spaces are now covered with lush green grass. Round to the right the Stadium is now fully dressed for the Games, with its unsponsored wrap hanging down like a row of very sharp white teeth. Spectators won't be allowed out here, but a series of tents on the Greenway will allow security and the media an up-close view of the southern tip of the Park.
A few of these army youngsters are stationed by the "Road Closed" notice, as if to dissuade any last minute commuters from wandering into this protected zone. They occasionally wander off down the road, mentioning semi-secret things you probably shouldn't be listening to, then giving you a shifty look in case you have. They've got some portakabins beyond the fence, presumably with some sort of office-y, toilet-y, shelter-y facilities within. Eventually the tents alongside will be a busy hub for the checking-over of official vehicles, which'll be great when there are coachloads arriving, but isn't that great a job a fortnight before the Games. One poor van had the misfortune to be the only vehicle beneath the marquee and was being swarmed over by at least twenty cadets, one with a mirror on a stick, the others mostly watching.
There's much to love about Little Venice, the quaint corner of Maida Vale where the Regent's Canal begins. And there's much to love at Café Labelle, the long-established coffee paradise on Warwick Avenue. Here, within a few hundred yards of ancient waters, Sally and her staff delight customers with hand-crafted mochas and deep-swirled lattes. "We use only the finest aromatic beans," says barista Justin, "and our regular patrons certainly keep coming back for more."
Few can resist the canalside delights of Camden Town and its vibrant streetlife. Indeed, crowds of trend-setting youths come from all over the world to enjoy fresh-fried noodles at Laplaya Bianco, the Pan-Asian stall at the heart of the Dock complex. Follow your nose to the waterside and the aromatic flavours will guide your way. "After a hard day's shopping for Doc Martens," jokes chef Kim, "our steaming trays really recharge the soul."
Broadway Market is the Regent's Canal's newest hipster hotspot. The street market's always rammed at weekends, and part of the appeal is the spicy home-cooked food on offer at Geppettos. Will it be crispy fried duck wings or scoops of quinoa - it's so hard to choose. "We may be best known for our chocolate tapas," says top honcho Ella, "but this weekend we're debuting chorizo pesto, and I know that's going to be a new favourite."
The first fracture is to the south of the District line, where the River Lea joins up with the Lee Navigation. The Lea Valley Walk squeezes down a thin strip between the two to reach Bow Locks, which it crosses over a gorgeous snakelike white bridge. But that leads only to the A12 and thence to Limehouse, whereas the direct route to the Thames ought to be on the opposite bank. And there is a footpath on the other side, it's just really hard to get to, with no direct connection. Fatwalk planners considered several possible linkages, and decided the simplest would be a staircase connecting the lower path with Twelvetrees Crescent Bridge above. Easy, except that in these days of disabled access there had to also be a lift, and that made things much more complicated (and expensive), and the proposed staircase never materialised.
Pick the right weather conditions and this short stretch of river along Poplar Reach is a photographer's dream. I took my camera down the last time we had perfect blue skies, which I think was back in May, and snapped some golden hour treats. The reeds around the adjacent meander are teeming with birdlife, but the true attraction is the astonishing contrast of buildings on the opposite bank. In the distance are the many and several wealthy towers of Canary Wharf. In front of them is Ernö Goldfinger's brutalist Balfron Tower - viewed from here apparently of an equivalent height. Closer by is a pile of stacked-up red containers, acting as offices and studios on Gillender Street. And all along the Tower Hamlets riverbank are warehouses, caravans, gasholders, trucks and tyres - everything you could possible need for a touch of contrasting brownfield angst. I can't decide which of the photos I took is my favourite, probably this one, maybe this. Perhaps a flick through my slideshow will help you make up your mind.
The house's creator, and first resident, was the Hungarian architect Ernö Goldfinger. Born in 1902, he'd studied in Paris where he met wife-to-be Ursula of the Crosse & Blackwell tinned foods dynasty. Their marriage brought him to London to set up his own practice, specialising in Modernist styles, and it wasn't long before he decided to design and build his own home. Hampstead was the up and coming location for leftfield artists in those days, so Ernö snapped up a row of derelict cottages and planned to redevelop them into something special. Neighbours objected vigorously, neighbours including author Ian Fleming, but the development went ahead anyway and Goldfinger lived on Willow Road for half a century.
