February 7th this year sees the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles Dickens. (It coincides with the 60th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II’s accession but for some reason that’s not being celebrated until June so we can ignore it for the time being…)
I started my Dickens year with a visit to the Dickens and London exhibition at the Museum of London; an atmospheric evocation of the Victorian London that permeates his writing. Highly recommended, I might even visit again, it’s on until 10 June.
Over the last year or so I have been reading/re-reading his major novels and had finished Great Expectations shortly before the BBC adaptation shown this Christmas. Although it was beautifully filmed, my enjoyment may have been marred by my recent memories of the book. Gillian Anderson somehow did not seem decayed and decrepit enough as Miss Havisham. There was no Biddy meaning no happy ending for Joe. It would have been nice to see Wemmick in Walworth with the aged parent. Herbert got married at the wrong time… I suppose the difference is that with a book you make your own interpretation, conjure up your own images, whereas, with a screen adaptation, you’re seeing the story through someone else’s eyes.
Nevertheless, I’m looking forward to watching Edwin Drood next week. It’s a few months since I read that and one thing no adaptation can be accused of is changing the ending!
There’s a lot more going on for the bicentenary of our greatest London writer. For a comprehensive listing see the Dickens 2012 website.
I hadn’t been to the New Year’s Eve fireworks since millennium eve – preferring to avoid the crowds and watch them at home on the telly – but when I was offered the chance to be a London Ambassadors volunteer it seemed like a great opportunity to be part of the event and hopefully get a good view of the display into the bargain.
I was on the 6 to 11 shift, in a team of four, handing out maps of the firework viewing areas around Westminster station and Parliament Square. It was already crowded on the Embankment when I arrived at event control in the MoD Gardens around 5.30; people staking their pitches to ensure a good view. We trekked off with our bags of maps and out through the barriers at Westminster Bridge. There was already a steady stream of people making their way into the viewing area and the barriers would be closed once it was full.
“When will it close?” was a frequently asked question from people who seemed reluctant to commit themselves to a long crowded wait.
“Probably by nine at the latest.”
“Are there toilets inside?”
“Yes. They’re shown on the map.”
At first people seemed reluctant to take the maps I held out to them; perhaps they thought I was trying to sell them. I did a much brisker trade by calling out “Free maps!” with the occasional variation of “Very useful maps” or “Maps to help you find your way home afterwards.”
People were bursting out of the tube station exit like champagne out of an uncorked bottle. It would have been impossible to get in even if it hadn’t been exit only.
“But I have to get in,” protested one woman to the policeman who was blocking her entry, “I have to meet someone in there!”
“I expect he’ll come out eventually,” replied the policeman.
“But if I can’t get into the tube station how can I get back to my hotel?” another woman asked me.
“Where’s your hotel?”
“Swiss Cottage.”
I couldn’t think of an immediately sensible route but advised her to go to St James’ Park and change.
“Do you think we’ve got time to go to Edgware Rd to get something to eat and then get back before it closes?” asked a group of young people. It was about 8.30 at the time. I looked around and pointed out the crowds. “Do you think you have?” “Probably better not to then? Where can we get something to eat round here?”
There were people who somehow seemed to have ended up there when they really wanted to be somewhere else and now had no idea how to escape.
“How can I get to Plumstead?”
“I need to get to Canary Wharf.”
“How can I get a 53 bus? It should go from here. I need to get home to Crystal Palace. I’ve been working all day and I’ve got to go to work tomorrow and I’m pregnant.”
“Where can I get on a tour bus?”
The most frequently asked question was “How can I get to the London Eye?” Which really translated into “How can I see the fireworks?”
The chances of doing either of these things diminished as the evening wore on. By around 9 the Embankment viewing area was closed. The tannoy announced “This viewing area is now closed, please make your way in the direction of Trafalgar Square.” I’m not quite sure what people were meant to do as the viewing area on Waterloo Bridge was also likely to be full even if they managed to get that far. Maybe they were just going to have to watch it on the screens in the square.
“If I wanted to watch them on a screen I’d have stayed at home and watched the telly,” commented one man.
There was the possibility of the restricted view from Lambeth Bridge. That seemed like the best bet from where we were but people were reporting that to be full as well.
Not long after 10 it was almost impossible for anyone to be anywhere other than where they were and people started to resign themselves to just being there and seeing what they could. “After all, they’ll be up in the air, won’t they,” said one, philosophically.
Whitehall was gridlocked with people as we made our way back to the MoD Gardens. Fortunately our passes allowed us through the barriers as it would have been impossible to get there otherwise.
There’s a good view across to the Eye from the Gardens and some stayed there to watch the display but a couple of others who had been working on the South Bank knew that our passes would let us on to the Jubilee Footbridge press area so I headed off with them for the reward of the evening.
Following that there was an after party in the Slug and Lettuce at County Hall which was a very pleasant way to pass the time while the crowds on the tube subsided.
My overall verdict on the night? Manic but fun!
So if you’re thinking of going to the fireworks next new year’s eve be prepared to get there early. Even then you’ll be watching them in the midst of a crowd like this.
Maybe it is better to watch them on the telly…
Ranked 7th in the Londonist’s list of London’s Top 10 Tunnels and Catacombs is the little-known 1820s underpass that runs under Euston Rd, just south of Regent’s Park.
It links Park Crescent gardens (just behind the tube station on the south side of the road) with Park Square gardens on the north side.
It’s known as the Nursemaid’s Tunnel as it was built to enable the nannies of Park Crescent to push their charges across to the park without having to negotiate the road. Both Park Crescent and Park Square are private gardens only open to keyholders apart from during Open Garden Squares weekend each June. Put it in your diary for next year if you haven’t visited already.
See more of my pictures of the tunnel on Flickr
Posted in London, Subterranean
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Tagged Euston Rd, London, Nursemaid's tunnel, Park Crescent, Park Square, Regent's Park, subterranean, tunnel, underpass, Victorian
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I’ve just read that Ryanair have increased the charge for hold baggage from £15 to £20 each way from the beginning of this month until 21 September. Clearly a cynical move designed to rake in money from families (who are less likely to be able to make do with just hand luggage) travelling during the summer holidays. So if you want to take more than hand luggage you’ve got to add another £40 to the cost of the flight. Not to mention that airport taxes and assorted other charges always seem to add at least another £40 or so to that headline £1 flight that attracted you in the first place… So all in all it often ends up that the flight you thought was going to be so cheap ends up being as expensive as that far more civilised mode of travelling – the train.
Take, as an example, the trip I took at Easter to visit friends in Trier, Germany. I got the Eurostar to Brussels, an inter-city train from Brussels to Luxembourg and then a local train to Trier.
The train fares came to a total of £169 and with the addition of £2.80 bus fares (Oyster) to and from St Pancras the total cost of the journey came to £171.80. Possibly I could have done it cheaper by plane but at the time I had already decided to go by rail so I didn’t compare the prices. Out of interest I’ve just made a comparison for the same journey imagining I wanted to make it in a couple of week’s time (actually I wouldn’t mind doing this but I’m too busy at work at the moment!). I’ve come up with a price of £199.80 for the train + bus to St Pancras and a Ryanair flight costing £136.88 return from Stansted to Frankfurt Hahn (the nearest airport to Trier). But it costs me a lot more to get to Stansted than it does to get to St Pancras plus I then need to get a bus to Trier. So on top of the flight cost I have to add just over £20 to get to Stansted and back (bus to Golders Green and then coach) and around another £20 for the bus to Trier and back bringing the total cost to just over £174. Still cheaper than the train – except this is all assuming that I’m travelling with hand luggage only. It would cost me another £40 (with the increased price) to check in a bag there and back making the total cost using Ryanair £214.38 – more expensive than the train!
But time is money, as they say, so isn’t it quicker by plane? The rail journey from London to Trier takes, on average, depending on connections, around 10 hrs (including bus to the station and 30 mins Eurostar check-in). It’s only just over an hour to fly from Stansted to Frankfurt Hahn but on top of that there’s the 2 hour check-in time at the airport, an hour or so to get to the airport in the first place and another hour-ish to get from the airport to Trier meaning that it’s going to take at least 6 hours. So yes, there’s a potential saving of around 4 hours assuming everything goes to plan – but some of that will no doubt be consumed by having to wait for luggage or the bus. And combined with that, the stress of the journey has probably taken those few saved hours off your life anyway!
So, as you will have gathered by now, I’d much rather travel by train than plane. It just seems so much more civilised. If you’re not convinced, take a look at the Man in Seat 61′s website. Guaranteed to convert you to the wonders of train travel.
This
has been replaced by this
Work has now started on the controversial biomedical research lab behind the British Library. As a consequence, the lovely old redbrick wall that I used to admire as I cycled down Ossulston St on my way to work has been demolished and replaced by ugly white hoarding 
I suppose I’d always known it would go one day, and in some ways was amazed that it survived for so long, but it was still a bit of a shock when it actually happened.
Along with the wall an old blue enamel street sign has also been lost (unless it was rescued and saved).
The wall used to mark the boundary of the Somers Town Goods Station as shown in this interesting pair of photos from 1927 and 2009
I miss the wall everytime I cycle past but at least I have a photo to remind me of it. Non-photographer friends sometimes find my compulsion to photograph things a bit obsessive but take it now while you have the chance is my motto. You never know when it will disappear – like this wall.
Yes, rhubarb is the preservative used for the cedar cladding of the Olympic velodrome. Just one of the fascinating facts I discovered on the other Olympic walk that I went on last Saturday.
I hadn’t been down that way since walking the Capital Ring in 2008, when work was just starting on clearing the site, so I was curious to see what progress that had been made since then.
The walk started at Leyton tube, went around the northern perimeter of the park, down on to the Lee Navigation and then up on to the Greenway to finish at the View Tube. I could have just taken myself on this walk but it was more interesting with the informative commentary from the guide.
The first section of the walk, with views across the northern part of the Olympic Park, went through an urban wasteland of busy roads, dominated by the Eastway and the ever-present roar of traffic – an incongruous setting for this tranquil view up the River Lea.
It was around here that we had the best view of the pringle-shaped Velodrome with its rhubarb-coated cladding. The curve of the roof has been designed to collect rainwater which will be used for flushing the loos during the games. Let’s hope there isn’t a drought next summer!
It was a relief to get away from the traffic when we reached the canal, just by the huge media centre.
There’s still a lot of graffiti along this section of the canal – the ever-present Sweet Toof and Gold Peg among others. I suppose they’re planning to sanitise the area before the games.
The tow-path around Old Ford Lock is closed at the moment so we had to detour through Hackney Wick and Fish Island (adding about another mile to the walk) before entering the Greenway at Wick Lane.
It was a hot day and the smell wafting up from the drain covers was a reminder that we were walking along the top of the Northern Outfall Sewer which carries most of the effluent of North London to the treatment works at Beckton. I bet that’s something they’d rather the tourists, many of whom will approach the park via this route, didn’t know about. I’m waiting for them to ask us Londoners to flush our toilets less during the games to keep the smell down!
From here it was just a short distance to the end of our walk with the stadium dominating all the way.
The walk ended at the View Tube – constructed out of recycled shipping containers with a great cafe, information about the area past, present and future and a viewing platform giving views across the park. Definitely worth a visit. I wonder if it will be allowed to remain during the games? The cafe would certainly provide an alternative to the McDonald’s monopoly on the catering.
The Anish Kapoor Orbit tower sculpture, situated just next to the stadium, is currently a work in progress. When complete it will be the country’s biggest ever piece of public art – 120m tall with a viewing platform at the top. That’s on my list already!
From the View Tube it’s just a few minutes walk to Pudding Mill Lane DLR station (one stop from Stratford with its plethora of transport links). However, convenient as this may seem for access to the Olympic Park, it will be closed during the Olympics! Apparently this is because it will be within the park perimeter and there are concerns about security risks but it seems pretty barmy to me. Our transport infrastructure is already creaking at the seams. How will it cope with the influx of tourists in 2012? Things might be all right as long as commuters don’t use the tube in the rush hour during the games!. And forget it if you were thinking of getting there on a Boris bike as Lloyds, who are Olympic sponsors, won’t allow them into the Olympic Park as they’re sponsored by Barclays. Never mind, by then the javelin trains will be able to whisk you there in 7 minutes from King’s X (but I wonder how much it will cost and will you be able to use your Oyster?)
All in all, this was an informative and enjoyable walk and I’d recommend it to anyone who wants to get an overview of the development. There’s also a shorter, southern, version starting in Bromley-by-Bow that I’m planning to do when my German friends visit in the summer.
As for the Olympics themselves, I’m not really interested; too much disruption, expense and commercialisation. They sounded more interesting the first time London hosted them in 1908 when they included the now discontinued tug-of-war. In fact, there are a lot of weird and whacky sports that were once included in the Olympics as this list of discontinued Olympic sports shows.
The amount of roadworks and building that’s going on at the moment seems to be part of some sort of attempt to get London ‘finished’ in time for 2012. But London will always be a work in progress and that’s part of what makes it such a fascinating place to live.
See all photos taken on this walk in my other Olympic Park walk set on Flickr
Underground art – or art underground, which perhaps has a subtly different meaning – seems to be a bit of a theme in my life at the moment. I was headed for the Bloomsbury Festival with little more than a vague idea of what I would do when I spotted the poster for this exhibition in the Crypt of St Pancras Church.
Flashy it certainly was – a riot of kitsch colour, in keeping with the motto of its curator, Sue Kreitzman “Don’t wear beige, it might kill you!”
Here’s her Self-portrait of the Artist as a Late Bloomer
And definately trashy – giving a whole new meaning to recycling.
Next time I see an odd shoe abandonned by the side of the road I’ll wonder if it’s waiting to be rescued by Kate Bradbury who describes, in the exhibition brochure, how she came to collect the shoes she used to create The Gleaners
“When the shoes first started appearing, I was curious but wary and left them alone…
However, as their proliferation and prominence increased, I was enticed and began mapping their footless trail..
But even as I followed the song and dance of their heels, it seemed as if the shoes had begun to follow me. Alone, in pairs, two lefts, two rights, they arrived at my door and invited themselves in, dragging their tales behind them.”
In her intro to the brochure Sue says: “You may emerge from this glorious festival of kitsch and spooky madness smiling – nay – laughing” and I did just that.
More pictures in my Flashier and Trashier set on Flickr
I’ve been meaning to write about this exhibition since my visit last Sunday but somehow other things – student protests, street ‘improvements’ – seemed more immediate.
The Old Vic Tunnels, a crumbling labyrinth of dilapidated tunnels under Waterloo Station, was the perfect venue for this series of installations based on Dante’s Inferno.
After entering through the mouth of a barking pit bull you were immersed in a shadowy underworld maze.
Wandering through the exhibits – a mix of sculpture, painting, video and mixed media installations – was like being in an alternative world; a world of sinister beauty where nothing was what it seemed. The attractive yellow globe of Paul Insect’s Object Desire, for example, was made from hundreds of hypodermic needles.
Doug Foster’s The Heretics’ Gate video installation, with the film reflected in a pool of water below, was mesmerising; I almost felt as if I was being sucked into the flames as the devil appeared.
It seemed appropriate that the exit from this underworld led into the Leake Street graffiti tunnel, itself a part of underground London.
See more pictures in my Hell’s Half Acre set on Flickr.
And although you can’t visit for yourself, as the exhibition finished last Sunday, you can get a taste of it on this You Tube video
… no education cuts!
chanted the students outside ULU this afternoon, the day of the comprehensive spending review.
It feels like the ’80′s all over again. Those endless, dreary Thatcher years. Are we heading for a winter of discontent? It’s certainly cold today and I read in the paper that the early arrival of Berwick’s swans from Siberia and the profusion of holly berries are portents of a hard winter.
