diamond geezer

Estuary

2013-05-22T07:00:00.000+01:00

The Museum in Docklands is ten years old this week. The actual anniversary is on Friday, this being one decade since the opening party "with live bands, treasure hunts, costumed actors and a prize for the best-dressed pirate!" I missed that, but I've been back several times since, and it's one of my favourite London museums. There's so much of interest on show that, even though I've seen it all before, I never mind seeing it all again. The history of London's river is well told, from early Roman days to the dawn of Docklands, via whale tusks and Tommy the Tortoise. I still can't physically work out how all the floors and galleries fit together, so twisty is the path from one end to the other, but that never matters. I love that partway round you end up walking through smelly mocked-up dockside streets. I'm amazed that there's an entire Sainsbury archive hidden in the middle. I appreciate being reminded by the Sugar & Slavery gallery that my city's riches are founded on misery and exploitation. But I usually give the ground floor a miss because it's rammed with small kids and their parents making the most of interactive hands-on malarkey.

There don't appear to be any special 10th birthday events this weekend, or at least there are none I can see listed on the museum's website. But there is a special anniversary exhibition which opened last weekend and runs until October. It's called Estuary, and presents us with a dozen contemporary artists' views of the outer reaches of the Thames. You might have seen Estuary advertised on the tube, with big yellow letters on a black and white background depicting a string of Maunsell sea forts. I love the seaforts, having been out to see them on a boat trip once, so stick those on a poster and I'm absolutely going to turn up.

I turned up a few days ago. The bloke on the front desk stopped me to tell me where to begin, but I've been before so I already knew to ascend to the third floor. I was expecting to be greeted by Tony Robinson doing his introductory video, but no, here was a boat and a big yellow cyclorama labelled ESTUARY. Excellent, I thought. Let's start by watching the film.

Behind the yellow wall was a curve of comfy cushioned seats, all focused on a large screen. Entering mid-film I thought that looked like the gangway of the Tilbury Ferry, and indeed it was, which is about as estuarine as you can get. This flipped into an aerial shot of the Thames by the Dome, with a gorgeous dusky sky illuminating the City skyline, and a helicopter buzzing oh so slowly towards the camera. Lovely. Enter bargemaster Tom Cook lolling lugubriously in an armchair, scratching his thick beard, telling the story of his ridiculously jam-packed maritime life. And he's only 27. I could have listened to his recollections all day, which was fortunate because they did go on a bit, twice. Those aerial river shots came round again too, sometimes from the top of the Shard, sometimes tracking shots from lower down. A rope was spliced (ah, so that's how you do it). A boat was launched. The series of short films went on and on.

Being a completist I wanted to stay to the end, so I stayed watching. Nobody else did. It was instructive to see how long most people lasted, generally no more than five minutes, in some cases barely one. A few couples made it to ten minutes, but only I made it to fifteen. There's quite a lot of Gravesend in these films, isn't there? Twenty-five. Ooh, the Tilbury Ferry, that must mean we're coming back to the start... ah no, false alarm. Thirty-five. Hi Tom again. Forty-five. Seriously, how long is this going to go on? Fifty-five. Oh thank goodness, there goes the ferry's gangplank again, so I can leave. Fascinating, but more likely a dipping in-and-out thing rather than an endurance test.

But where was the rest of the exhibition? I'd seen a list of artworks listed in a leaflet, so I was expecting a blown-up photo of Southen, and a performance by the Bow Gamelan Ensemble, and of course those seaforts. Nothing. I wandered into the main exhibition space, wondering whether bits might pop up throughout, but no. I eventually reached the final room where many a temporary exhibition has been held, but no, that contained an East End version of Monopoly and a splendid concentric circle E-postcode map. So where in the building was the rest of the exhibition? I checked the leaflet - no clues, and wandered back to the main entrance. I could have asked someone on the desk I guess, but that's not me, so instead I left empty-headed.

I did the same sort of thing again later in the day. I went to Waterstones in Piccadilly specifically to see the London-based Lego they've got on show there. I found the book that the display is promoting, stacked up on the ground floor in an awkward spot blocking the aisles. And then I wandered the floors, from the ground to the fourth, popping into all the crannies where hardbacks and paperbacks are shelved. Not a dimpled plastic brick in sight. I ended up buying two completely different books, but I never found the colourful scale model of St Pancras. Again I could have asked, but instead I assumed the display had moved on, and then left.

Two pointless journeys, at least in terms of the main reason I made the visit. I thought I knew each place well, but instead I completely missed what I came to see because it wasn't clear enough where it was. I think I've now worked out where the Estuary exhibition is, but only because I've ploughed through all of Londonist's podcast last week (they're official media partners, don't you know). The exhibition's somewhere on the ground floor near the cafe, probably, perhaps. There might be more clues in these two YouTube films released by the Museum to promote the exhibition. Whatever, I'm going to have to go back again, and hopefully the location of the Estuary will be blatantly obvious this time.

Dangleway for schools

2013-05-21T07:00:00.000+01:00

Are you a schoolteacher in the London area? Are you looking for an exciting venue for a class trip? Well, the Transport for London Safety & Citizenship team may have the answer.

The Emirates Air Line schools scheme is a brand new initiative aimed at London schools. The scheme allows you to admire the breathtaking views of the capital while bringing most subjects to life.

Riding the cablecar is going to be the school trip of choice, and no mistake.

Pupils will only be charged £1 for a return flight on the Emirates Air Line and accompanying adults will travel for free (adult to child ratio 1:9 at KS2 and above and 1:5 at KS1).

What an innovative idea to boost passenger numbers during the less busy midweek period.

The fare for children is £1 each for a single journey, a return journey or a ‘360 Tour’. Accompanying teachers/guardians will travel free up to the mandatory minimum ratios of adults to children. Additional adults will be charged the appropriate Oyster fare for their journey.

A bargain, I hope you'll agree.

Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London said: 'What better way to learn about our city's fascinating history than by travelling at 90 metres above the Thames on the Emirates Air Line, marvelling at its sleek design, whilst our fine Capital unfolds underneath?

What better way indeed. Apart from maybe going to South Kensington and looking round some proper museums.

'I am delighted that with the introduction of this special rate even more children can now enjoy one of London's transporting triumphs!'

If you're not yet convinced that this is the school trip for you, TfL have a webpage packed with useful background information to persuade you. There's even a detailed FAQ.

How long does a journey on the Emirates Air Line last? A single crossing takes approximately 10 minutes out of peak hours, and a 360 journey takes approximately 20 minutes at that time.

£1 for a 20 minute trip? That's not bad going... apart from the additional cost of actually getting to the cablecar in the first place.

Are bags allowed on the Air Line? You may bring personal luggage that you are able to carry yourself provided it is not dangerous or likely to injure or obstruct anyone and is not more than 2 metres in length.

Sorry, you may have to disappoint any students hoping to bring a sword or a flagpole with them.

Are there toilets? Neither terminal has toilet facilities. Toilet facilities are available at North Greenwich Underground station.

No toilets? Suddenly this is sounding like a less good venue for a school trip.

Can pregnant women travel on the Emirates Air Line? Pregnant women can travel on the Emirates Air Line. The Emirates Air Line reaches heights of 90 metres. Travelling is at our customers’ own discretion.

What a relief that pregnant members of the party, be they teachers or pupils, will still be able to take part.

How many people need to be in a group? There is no set minimum group size but there is a maximum group size of 400.

Hell yeah, why not bring the entire school?

Is there a “fast track” lane for booked school groups? Pre-booked school parties will be met upon arrival and escorted through to the platform level. They will be treated as a private party.

Take that as a friendly warning to other users of the cablecar. Come at the wrong time (that's between 9.30am and 5pm Monday to Friday) and you might get stuck behind a school party.

How long before my boarding time shall I arrive? Bookings are taken to fall within one hour timeslots. You should arrive within the timeslot booked.

You could get a class of 30 on board in under two minutes. A party of 400 is going to take rather longer.

Where do we collect our group tickets? It is simpler to collect Group tickets on arrival at the planned terminal, where a record of your booking is held.

Sorry? Simpler than what?

What happens if I lose or forget my tickets? The Emirates Air Line operator maintains a record of any Groups which have pre-booked flights. Upon presentation at the agreed terminal, the group leader, with appropriate personal identification will be met and the booking will be respected.

That is, seriously, truly excellent.

What if there are adverse weather conditions? The Emirates Air Line cable car system is designed to operate throughout the year and in most weather conditions. However, cable cars are not designed to operate in extreme weather conditions and, for comfort and safety reasons, the service may close due to:
o Threat of lightning and thunder - this may impact the service for a short time. The cable car system may close for less than 20 minutes, before the storm passes and service resumes.
o Very strong winds - this is likely to lead to a longer period of 'No Service' as wind speed tends to reduce at a gradual rate.

Be warned, you're booking a school trip that might be cancelled in the event of adverse weather conditions. There is the option for a refund, or to rebook, but essentially that's your day out ruined.

Is there a commentary on the Emirates Air Line? There are welcome messages on the Emirates Air Line, but no commentary. Many passengers enjoy the quietness of the journey at 90 metres above ground level. If you have any questions on any particular landmark you have seen, please ask our staff at either terminal – who will be happy to assist.

Passengers are unlikely to be enjoying the quietness of the journey when there's a school party aloft.

What will I see from the Emirates Air Line? Rising to a height of 90 metres the Emirates Air Line is a unique travel experience, giving spectacular views across the city and its river, including St Paul’s Cathedral, the Shard, the Old Royal Naval College Greenwich and the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. In the foreground you will see The O2, Canary Wharf, the Thames Barrier and the Crystal Building.

You could offer a very special prize, say ten house merit points, to any child who can actually spot St Paul's Cathedral from that distance.

Are pets allowed on the Emirates Air Line? With the exception of assistance dogs, animals must be carried at all times. Some animals may not be permitted. Please check with a member of staff before you purchase your boarding pass.

Don't even think of bringing the class guinea pig, because it won't be allowed on board.

As a bonus to teachers, TfL have carried out your Risk Assessment for you. Rest assured that a trip on the cablecar meets all the requirements of UK/European Standards BS EN 12929-1 Cableway General Requirements Guidance on Safe Practices HSG65.

Slips/ Trips/ Falls - The following hazards should be noted: steps and stairs, slowly moving cabin when boarding, wet flooring.

There is of course no risk of "falling from the cabin into the Thames", so long as you don't allow little Tyrone to fiddle with the doors.

Whilst there are no high level areas per se, those who suffer from vertigo may find the experience uncomfortable.

There are high level areas, obviously. Just not per se.

Guests are enclosed in the cabin for between four and ten minutes and whilst the cabin is airy and able to accommodate the number of people who have been boarded by our Air Line teams, some individuals may feel confined. However the cabin cannot be defined as a confined space.

According to the legal definition a small cabin dangling 90m above the Thames is not a confined space. Tell that to your eight year-old having a panic attack mid-crossing.

If all this has inspired you, you might want to print out this colourful poster and stick it on your staffroom wall.

Inspiring journeys at the Emirates Air Line
Feed your imagination with a breathtaking flight over London. Watch geography, science and creative writing come to life!

And it's not only these three subjects which can benefit.

The Emirates Air Line schools scheme offers many educational benefits. The design and construction phases of Emirates Air Line involved many departments. As a consequence, a journey on the Emirates Air Line should be a cross-curricular experience.

I have to say, the last time I was on the cablecar that's exactly what I was thinking.

There's especially good news if you're a KS4 Geography teacher, because the kind folk at TfL have put together a lesson plan on the theme of "Urban Regeneration: The Docklands". It includes the following observational suggestions.

Students need to be split into different groups and collect evidence on the day:
Group A: London Docklands pre-1960s and the River Thames - Students to look around and to collect evidence of the pre-1960 era (derelict buildings, Tate & Lyle factory, Beckton Gas Works holder structure – all visible from the Emirates Air Line)
Group B: Regeneration in East London - Students to look around and to collect evidence of private-sector investment (Canary Wharf, O2 Arena, The Crystal – all visible from the Emirate Air Line).
Group C: Transport Infrastructure - Students to look around and to collect evidence of different modes of transport in the Docklands area.

Group C would be ideal for all your special needs students, by the sound of it.

Flights must be booked in advance through Emirates Air Line Schools Groups booking line or email address. (School Group Fare does not apply where no advance booking has been made).

You do actually have to be a proper school. Don't think you can just turn up in North Greenwich with a group of nine children and expect to take them across for a pound each.

Bookings are subject to availability.

Better hurry, then, before all the best timeslots go.

Battersea Power Station

2013-05-20T01:00:00.000+01:00

If you love Battersea Power Station, there's currently a rare opportunity to visit. Not visit properly, there's no getting inside the boiler house or turbine hall. But you can wander up close to the northern façade, to the area between the power station and the Thames, somewhere there's been no free public access for years. It's all part of the Chelsea Fringe festival, a three week artistic intrusion taking place capital-wide. And it's also part of the developers' masterplan to soften up the populace so that they welcome the impending luxury transformation. Later on expect high-end stores, restaurants and health spas. But for now there's a pop-up park with freshly-laid turf, artistic huts and a van selling crumpets. Do come.

You approach from the southern end of Chelsea Bridge, near the entrance to Battersea Park. The apartments alongside are part of Chelsea Bridge Wharf, a glass carbuncle which hints at the development to come on the adjacent site. Normally the path below the railway bridge is sealed off, but now at weekends a security guard will open up and beckon you through. All the trains out of Victoria rumble overhead, indeed there's a wonderful view of the power station immediately after you cross the river. It won't last. The first phase of the new development involves the construction of an arc of apartments called Circus West, rising up to seventeen storeys in height, and they'll block off the direct line of sight. You won't be moving in.

The main Circus West building snakes along the western edge of the Power Station, wrapping its art deco industrial splendour in a refective glass skin. All of the apartments have enclosed winter gardens that provide outside space that is useable all year round. The penthouses have rooftop terraces and private gardens that will have spectacular views of Chelsea, the river and the Power Station – truly remarkable spaces. The residents of Circus West will also have access to a private garden and a 5,000 sq ft private residents’ club. Entered through a triple height lobby area, it is home to a private bar and private dining space, as well as a library, business centre, private cinema and a host of additional amenities for the benefit of residents.

At present Circus West is an expanse of rubble awaiting transformation, so it's fortunate most future buyers live overseas where they can't see it. The riverside park beyond looks considerably greener, probably because all the grass has recently been brought in from elsewhere. A dry garden has been planted, with tufty stems and wispy stalks emerging from gravel - quick, easy and effective. Elsewhere are some extremely attractive planters, and an audio hammock, plus a trio of stone petal seats you can buy for a few grand. On the ground you'll find a mass of pink building blocks, entitled Bloom, which last saw the light of day in Victoria Park during the Olympics. Elsewhere some hollowed-out wooden blocks have been installed, permitting visitors to step inside and stare out through coloured filters at a confined view of the power station. Because oh yes, it's the power station you've come to see.

A sheer brick edifice rises across the lawn beyond a protective fence. Two ribbed chimneys scrape the sky, far higher than they've looked from further away these past few decades. The developers tell us they'll have to come down and be rebuilt, and we probably believe them, don't we? Iron struts run between the towers, the intermediate windows long blown out allowing sight of the empty boiler house interior beyond. Within a few years you'll be able to buy haute couture and tapas in there, in a kind of Westfield Plus that the new local residents will adore. For now the place echoes with silence, except for every couple of minutes when a plane flies over, which isn't something you'll see mentioned in the penthouse brochures.

An element of considerable character is provided by a couple of cranes on the waterside. They stand at the end of a jetty, cranes aloft, with the name Stothert & Pitt still imprinted on their side. I hope they'll stay, and then presumably the proposed waterbus will tie up at some shinier building downstream. According to the festival blurb there was supposed to be "a bicycle and trailer decorated with planted beer cans distributing seed packets and information", but I never saw that. Instead there was a nice lady at a plant stall, and some very bored looking litter pickers with nothing to do, and rather more street food vendors than an event with minimal audience actually requires.

Saturday's main Chelsea Fringe event was entitled Planting Ideas, and was about as far away from opulent capitalism as it's possible to get. A few dozen people gathered with the express intent of standing in growbags in wooden planters, allowing themselves to be topped up with soil and then spouting forth. The idea was to create a "living orchard" with participants discussing multifarious ideas about sustainability with any members of the public willing to listen. Some wanted to talk about access to water, others about crowdsourcing an eco-curriculum, another to start the 9 Billion Conversation. Lofty ideals, but I think they were disappointed by how small an audience turned up, and the world isn't going to change as a result of this somewhat inward gathering.

Battersea's pop-up park remains open for the next three weekends, with various other fringe activities underway, should you fancy wandering down. There's no tube station nearby because nobody's built the mercenary Northern line extension out here yet, but I'm sure you'll cope. By the time that arrives, bringing office workers to their new jobs and customers to the Gucci shop, the park will have been extended to a permanent six acres. In the meantime this is your last chance to see the exterior of the historic Power Station, as it was, before restoration begins in the autumn. Don't expect thrills when you get here, but anticipate awe.

» 12 photos from Saturday (by me)
» 9 photos from Sunday (by McTumshie)
» several photos from 2008

And watch out for the Chelsea Fringe elsewhere around town too. I spotted some colourful tubs blooming at the end of the platforms at Bromley-by-Bow yesterday, and thought "ooh they're pretty", and it turns out they're a Chelsea Fringe intervention too. Good luck using the website, which makes the usual mistake of expecting you to plough through a mass of listings to find the interesting and relevant stuff. But if you can't make it to the actual Chelsea Flower Show this week, perhaps the alternative will come to you.

Nunhead Cemetery

2013-05-19T07:00:00.000+01:00

Nunhead Cemetery is one of London's Magnificent Seven, a ring of private burial grounds established around the edge of the capital in the 1830s. Highgate's the best known, Kensal Green's the largest, and Nunhead's possibly the quietest. Located between Peckham and Brockley, its 50 acres are deeply wooded, and rather lovely. It wasn't meant to be this way. The cemetery went bankrupt in 1969 and a deep decline ensued, with gravestones toppling and the undergrowth bearing up. Along came The Friends of Nunhead Cemetery, not a moment too soon, and in 2001 the place was restored enough to be reopened. The gates are opened daily, and on the last Sunday of the month the Friends run a guided walking tour. But once a year they really push the boat out and host an Open Day, with stalls and tours and the opportunity to delve inside parts not usually accessible. And that was yesterday.

At Nunhead, all paths lead to the Anglican Chapel. It stands at the top of the main avenue leading up from Linden Grove, thin and tall with a pair of narrow spires rising to the sky. The chapel roof fell in a while back, so normally the front gates are locked, but yesterday they were flung open and a wheelchair ramp installed. It was busy inside too, especially when the musicians were performing. I missed the Dulwich Ukulele Club, but enjoyed the dulcet tones of the Nunhead Community Choir. Most carried their song words in book form or on clipboards, but I noticed a couple reading from iPads, or equivalent, and swishing through to the next page of the manuscript as the song progressed. Lucky it wasn't raining.

One Open Day special was the offer to don a hard hat and climb the "very narrow, steep and dark" spiral staircase to the roof of the tower, but I passed on that. Instead I joined the hourly tour to the crypt, which is very rarely open, with access down a slope round the back. We weren't quite sure what we'd be entering as the volunteer guided pushed open the doors and warned us about the big step down. It was very dark inside, but we spotted the trapdoor in the ceiling through which coffins were lowered, and then we spotted the coffins. There are 76 shelves down here, stacked like the sorting boxes in a post office, and most contain the remains of a dead Victorian. Not all the boxes have survived in this dank vault, some have rotted or collapsed, while others were vandalised in the 1970s and the bones had to be put back in mixed-body plastic sacks.

The 40 stalls were busy, or at least some of them were. Anyone offering face painting did well, as did the local history societies and gardening guilds. Other tables garnered less interest, but that's obscure well-meaning volunteers for you. Beekeepers and woodcarvers were present, and a lady chiselling letters in stone, and a group with a petition trying to save a nearby pub from developers. A small child thrust an out-of-date copy of The War Cry into my hand, while the Greater London Industrial Archaeology Society didn't have to try that hard to unload some free leaflets. I fancied a jam scone from the temporary cafe, indeed the entire table of cakes and sponges looked proper homemade gorgeous, but the queue was extreme so I decided to pass.

Obviously the best things to do when visiting one of the Magnificent Seven is to walk around the cemetery. Paths curve round the perimeter and through the centre, some narrow, some broader, but all shadowed by verdant tree cover. Gravestones emerge from the wilderness at peculiar angles, with a few bluebells inbetween at this time of year. On one bank a small boy called Bertie posed with a dandelion clock for his Dad's smartphone, close to a headstone in loving memory of his namesake who died a century ago. Up at the mausoleum, if you found it, was a curated art exhibition based on the Seven Heavenly Virtues. They did the Sins last year, in case you're wondering. You've probably also unconsciously misjudged the mausoleum's size, it's more like a garden shed, but beautifully decorated on the outside. Pop back any weekend this month to see inside for yourself, or visit any time to enjoy the peace of this urban retreat.

Peace Pavilion, Bethnal Green

2013-05-18T07:00:00.000+01:00

Pavilions are ten a penny these days. You can't move in London without stumbling across a pop-up structure, designed by architects, occupying some public space somewhere. These temporary creations give students and consultancies the opportunity to show off their artistic tendencies, and also to spout meaningful words about the inherent meaning of their abstract concept. Plastic poles, wooden struts, steel bars and polymer panels, all interlinked in dynamic ways to create a cognitive space intersecting reality. Or something.

Next month a pavilion will be popping up at the Serpentine Gallery, as is the tradition each June. Sou Fujimoto's signature building will "inhabit a space between nature and artificiality". We're promised that "a new form of environment will be created, where the natural and the man-made merge; not solely architectural nor solely natural, but a unique meeting of the two." Not only that, but "it will form a semi-transparent, irregular ring, simultaneously protecting visitors from the elements while allowing them to remain part of the landscape." Your typical average pop-up pavilion, then.

And now there's one in Bethnal Green.

This is the Summer Showcase Pavilion, the end result of a competition organised by ArchTriumph. They invited international teams "to design a freestanding transportable temporary contemporary showcase Pavilion that reflects peace and its unique location." That location is the Museum Gardens in Bethnal Green, a peaceful square round the back of the Museum of Childhood, and a lovely place to rest on a sunny day. Designs had to "encourage hope and highlight the need for ecological and sustainable architecture and design principles", as you do. In addition the pavilion "should provide an inspirational space" where visitors can "admire, embrace diversity and engage with each other to share discussions about design, importance and benefits of peace and co-existence or other stories in a peaceful setting." And, to add to the challenge, this year's pavilion would be "dedicated to the newly created South and North nations of Sudan as we encourage a peaceful future through architecture". Looking at the final design, I'm sure you can agreed they succeeded in meeting this challenging brief.

The winning team were an interdisciplinary trio from France, that's Gregoire, Irina and Adrià. They created this "visually and aesthetically engaging" pavilion, capable of providing "an ideal contemporary space offering a sense of tranquility and beauty". Their self-supporting structure has been created from lightweight PVC membrane and embraces the geometric conception of double curved surfaces. It's not immediately obvious from ground level but the pavilion has perfect symmetry, a bit like a twisted cloverleaf. And we're told that "the geometry of the pavilion blurs our notions of inside and outside", which is almost exactly what Sou Fujimoto said. This must mean that Peripheral Blurring is this year's fundamental design message in the world of pavilions, so do bear that in mind if you're thinking of designing your own.

I stumbled upon the Peace Pavilion completely by accident. I didn't know the Mayor of Tower Hamlets had been down on Thursday to officially open it. I just wandered through from the station and there it was, an inflatable membrane plonked in the middle of the lawn. Various local teenagers were staring at it, and taking smartphone photos of each other in front of it, because it was new and strange. A few mums had gathered, it being the middle of the afternoon, and some led their toddlers into the middle for a stare. I don't think they discussed design, importance and the benefits of peace and co-existence, but you never can tell.

There are a few metal chairs scattered inside the pavilion to encourage contemplation. I've got almost exactly the same chairs at home, so I'm quite excited to discover that they're art, and not just cheap car boot knock-off dumped here by my landlord. There's also a lone security guard on patrol, in case anyone turns up and tries to vandalise the pavilion, or daub it with graffiti, or pierce the membrane, or even try to run away with it. Don't do that, because that's not in the spirit of international peace and sustainability. I'm not saying you should rush down to Bethnal Green to see the Peace Pavilion, because it's only a twisty geometric inflatable with added seating. But watch out for pavilions in your part of town too, because you never know where one will pop up next.

I nearly

2013-05-17T07:00:00.000+01:00

I nearly walked to work yesterday. It's Walk To Work Week this week, and I like to play my part. From home to the office is only five and a bit miles, which is perfectly doable, and it's a fascinating walk too. I should have set my alarm an hour earlier, but I didn't think. And then I woke up and the weather was glorious and I wished I had. I considered walking anyway and turning up in the office an hour later than usual, because I'm allowed to do that, which is nice. But instead I jammed myself into a train and arrived the quick way. Lots to do, best not waste time.

I nearly had lunch yesterday. It's the done thing in the middle of the day, and I don't like to starve. Our canteen usually serves up fine food at very reasonable prices, and this saves me having to cook anything at the end of the day. But yesterday they conspired to offer a menu consisting entirely of things I don't like, bar a bowl of semi-acceptable soup, and that didn't seem worth the effort. I know lunch is only a short period out of the working day, and barely a few minutes if you "grab and go", but I gave it a miss. Save half an hour at lunchtime and get home earlier, I thought. Lots to do, best not waste time.

I nearly lost it in the middle of the afternoon. It's not like me. Normally I can juggle several things simultaneously, moving each inexorably closer to completion, but I'm struggling at the moment. There's all the usual work to do, plus a chunk of extra work someone thought we could do as well, and then some. I was trying to keep up with the maelstrom when someone wandered over and interrupted by dumping even more on me, at which point a flurry of meeting requests for October arrived and I almost flipped. I'd liked to have stood up on my chair and yelled, but it's not the done thing in an office, plus it's a swivel chair and I'd have fallen off. Instead I cursed quietly and knuckled back down. Lots to do, best not waste time.

I nearly went home at four o'clock. I do when I can, it's allowed, but ill-advised at times of plenty. It would have been tempting to down tools and leave anyway, but in my experience that only makes the future worse. Instead I continued with tasks one to seven, and the newly arrived task eight, before an email arrived suggesting task nine. Lots to do, best not waste time.

I nearly went home at five o'clock. Staying any later than that is an admission of failure, especially when I'm always one of the first people into the office in the first place. Instead I went and made a cup of tea, in a defeatist manner, as if to confirm to myself that I had no intention of heading home any time soon. And then I returned to my desk to discover task ten, which might not have been urgent but was relatively simple to get out of the way. Lots to do, best not waste time.

I nearly went home at six o'clock. Everybody else seemed to be leaving, or had put their coats on and skedaddled already. It gets easier to work as everyone else goes home - there are far fewer distractions - but that's rarely a good enough reason for staying on. I plugged myself into some music and jigged along to an unexpectedly fine tune, safe in the knowledge that nobody else was watching. I still had a document to check, and a spreadsheet to complete, and a meeting to organise, and some files to transfer, and an email I'd accidentally overlooked earlier. Lots to do, best not waste time.

I nearly went home at seven o'clock. I'm sure I would have done if it had been winter. There's nothing like the onset of darkness outside to hint that it's time to go home. After three hours of night-time I'd have been longing to get out, but evening daylight surreptitiously tempts us to carry on. Seven is also when the cleaners turned up, sensibly avoiding my end of the office until the last few stragglers have left. There was only one other person left by now, and I only noticed him when the lights went out and he stood up and waved his arms around to turn the sensors back on. Lots to do, best not waste time.

I nearly went home at eight o'clock. I was almost done, but there was one last column on a spreadsheet to colour in. It wasn't crucial, but it added quality to a deliverable, and I'd never get it done tomorrow once a avalanche of further 'stuff' arrived. I did that thing where you send your boss an email after eight o'clock in the evening, as if to prove a point, in the hope they'll notice the timestamp. I said hello to the cleaners, because we have that word in common, and because there was nobody else to talk to. And then finally I started shutting down and packing up. Lots done, time not wasted.

I nearly stayed in town and went for a drink. The streets round about were full of people doing just that, indeed looking like they'd been doing that for some considerable time. I could have gone for food somewhere, because I was slightly ravenous by this time. But instead I walked to the nearest station, long after the last free Evening Standard had been dispensed, and headed home. I even got a seat, which is one of the few bonuses of departing work in the middle of the evening. I wandered down Bow Road in wasted daylight, along with E3's other late-at-work stragglers. And I decided no, sorry, I won't be walking to work today either. Lots to do, best not waste time.

Crossrail postbag

2013-05-16T07:00:00.000+01:00

Just for a change, let's delve into the diamond geezer readers' postbag. Or rather, let's take a look at your interesting comments from yesterday and share them with a wider audience.

If you remember, the big Crossrail 2 choice is whether to build a Metro service or a Regional service. You strongly preferred the latter.

I support the regional option as it gives really great travel time reductions to lots of suburban stations. [Rational Plan]

I think this would be best suited as a regional line. Think Crossrail as being the Paris RER style and the tube being the metro. [James]

Indeed, not one reader could see the attraction of the Metro service.

The metro option having tiny short platforms!? What on earth are they "thinking"? When every other tube and railway line in London is rammed, and would benefit from longer trains... [Malcolm]

I confess I can't understand this metro option. Why limit it to four cars? Do it at least at tube length, or not at all. [Andrew Bowden]

Ah, but don't forget that DLR carriages are double length.

The metro option would be an automated (hence DLR like) line with platform screen doors running at up to 40 trains an hour. The trains are not 4 carriages long, but 4 units long. As they are articulated units, this means they are as long as existing tube trains. [Rational Plan]

To me it feels like the metro option has simply been set up to fail - which is probably why TfL have suggested it. It feels very much like a "someone's going to ask us what we'll get if we do this cheaper, so let's shave a few million off the price and show what you'd get" Sell the benefits of spending a little more money. But still, is a 6 car metro service that much more expensive than a four car? [Andrew Bowden]

Whatever, it seems that only one of the two options is viable.

Set up to fail is right. No-one can possibly take the metro option seriously. This will be a proper full-scale Crossrail - the consultation is a publicity exercise, nothing more. [Arkady]

Obviously the Regional version wins hands down. The Metro version looks like a cheaper mistake that it will only cost an absolute fortune when the need for an upgrade becomes overwhelming apparent, as it almost certainly would within six months of opening. Like the 1983 tube stock on the Jubilee Line (with single doors, on predictions of decreased tube usage in the future) it would be an expensive mistake....and utterly inexplicable given predictions of *increased* population and public transport usage in the capital. [Dominic H]

It would be curious to build Crossrail 2 as a conventional metro style service, the clue is in the name! [Mikey C]

You weren't thrilled by how few stations Hackney is getting...

Astounded that the Metro version of the Chelsea-Hackney line doesn't even, really, go to Hackney. [Dominic H]

Stoke Newington surely needs a tube link as badly as Hackney, though. [Dominic H]

...whereas Haringey gets a string of four stations.

It seems strange to have Tottenham served by both branches of CR2 [Mikey C]

On the regional plan, why the odd duplication up the A10 corridor, meaning each station only gets half the service? Surely one tunnel calling at Dalston and/or Hackney, and at Seven Sisters and/or Tottenham Hale would be cheaper? [SW commuter]

Why does the Tottenham Hale branch need more services? The Seven Sisters to Cheshunt always seems more crowded to me. [John2]

Ironic that the proposed northern route runs from Seven Sisters to Alexandra Palace. There used to be an almost identical line from Seven Sisters to Palace Gates with stations at West Green and Noel Park (Wood Green High Road). It was closed to passengers in January 1963. I travelled on the last train, but I don't think I'll still be alive to travel on the new first train! A further extension from Ally Pally to Muswell Hill might be worth considering. [Anon]

The central section of the route needed further clarification from some.

Piccadilly Circus has still not been confirmed as being in either option as it will be very difficult to build! Pbv easier in the Metro option as smaller footprint. [Anon]

Why cram even more people into TCR and Victoria? Most services into Victoria call at Clapham Junction anyway. Stops at Sloane Square and Bond Street would make a much better distribution of traffic. [Anon]

Others queried the links made in the southern section.

On the metro version, who is going to use the Wimbledon-Tooting stretch? Locals already have South Wimbledon station. There is an interchange between the SW suburban network and CR2 at Clapham Junction, and the SWT route between Wimbledon and CJ is much more direct and thus faster. I doubt that many people from the SW suburbs wanting the Northern Line will appreciate the double change at Wimbledon and Tooting - better to change at Waterloo (although this stretch makes a lot of sense in the regional version, as there would be no need to change at Wimbledon) [SW commuter]

Why can't the Wimbledon bit go to Sutton instead of following SWT? [John2]

One of you submitted a fervent plea not to scrimp on the trains.

'If Metro trains won't be staffed, please ensure plenty of station staff to support safety. This is vital for a busy urban line. Also, please design the trains to better cater for the elderly, sick and disabled, who make up at least a fifth of the population. New Victoria and Hammersmith & City/Met Line trains are actively painful to travel on if you have a physical disability. It was particularly pointless making the seats shorter as people's legs take up the same amount of room when sitting, and this causes untold discomfort to those of us needing good seating support.' [misspiggy]

But generally you don't care which option is built so long as one of them is.

Just start building it. This country spends far too long talking about infrastructure projects, instead of getting the job done. This adds to the cost, and we have to wait years before we see any results. [John]

I'd choose whichever option has a better chance of being built. There are far too many transport projects that go nowhere at all (pardon the pun), and we need anything we can get. [Chz]

Crossrail 2 won't be coming to a neighbourhood near you soon. But hopefully eventually.

Crossrail 2

2013-05-15T07:00:00.000+01:00

We've not yet got Crossrail, but how do you feel about Crossrail 2? TfL would very much like to know, so they've launched a consultation and it runs until the start of August. If built Crossrail 2 will connect southwest and northeast London, then perhaps connect further out into Surrey and Herts. A considerable amount of information has been published already, but if you don't have the time or inclination to dig through that, here's my Q&A.

This is new, isn't it?
Not at all. TfL have long had plans to build a NE/SW tube line, they've just never had the money. The idea of linking Chelsea with Hackney has been around since 1974, in recognition of these two places being two gaping holes in the tube network. The proposed line even had its own nickname, Chelney, but never (as yet) any trains.

How many options are there?
There are three options. The first is the Metro option (see map), which involves trains running between Alexandra Palace and Wimbledon. The second is the Regional option, which uses the previous option as a core, then extends onto National Rail lines at each end. And the third is not to build Crossrail 2 at all, which is the most likely outcome if the project fails to get sufficient funding.

How much will this cost?
The Metro option is due to cost £9bn, the same as the Olympics. The Regional option is more expensive, at £12bn, but for that you get a lot more miles. TfL have also taken into account "optimism bias", which is the tendency of all big public infrastructure projects to massively underestimate how much they're going to cost. In this case they reckon the actual total could easily be another 50% higher.

Tell me about the southern part of the core route
Crossrail 2 kicks off at Wimbledon, perhaps linking directly into the surrounding rail network to serve Twickenham, Surbiton and Epsom. The next stop would be Tooting Broadway, at last creating a south London link between the District and Northern lines. Then to Clapham Junction, which we're told is one of the most important links of all, offering SW London commuters a direct connection to the West End. Then continuing underground beneath the Thames to King's Road Chelsea, which would be a brand new station serving a brand new neighbourhood, and about time too.

Tell me about the central part of the core route
Victoria is one of the busiest stations on the Underground network, where Crossrail 2 would provide passengers with a vital alternative to the overstuffed Victoria line. The new line would cut diagonally through to Piccadilly Circus and then to Tottenham Court Road, journeys which aren't currently possible on one train. Tottenham Court Road would become the megahub where two Crossrails meet, an essential interchange which your grandchildren will use a lot. And then onward beneath Bloomsbury to Euston St Pancras.

Euston St Pancras?!?!?
Yes, don't look so surprised. I mean, technically King's Cross St Pancras doesn't exist either, but everyone's long got used to the tube station namechecking these two neighbouring rail termini. In this case Crossrail 2 needs to stop at Euston to serve High Speed 2 from Birmingham, while High Speed 1 is sort-of nextdoor at St Pancras so there'll be an exit there too. Might be a long walk, though.

Tell me about the northern part of the core route
From Euston St Pancras to Angel Crossrail 2 would be in parallel to the existing Northern line, but offering Islingtonites a direct link to the centre of town for the first time. Then to the Overground station at Dalston Junction, before the rest of Hackney is entirely bypassed by a really long gap on the way to Seven Sisters. Here Crossrail 2 funnels in traffic from the Victoria line, then on to Turnpike Lane to relieve the Piccadilly. And finally to Alexandra Palace, where hordes of passengers will be able to alight from National Rail commuter services and ride easily into central London.

How is the Regional route different to the Metro route?
The Regional route would extend at both ends to connect with the main rail network, with trains running through direct. At Wimbledon the link would be short and no new lines would be created. But to the north there'd be a fresh split beyond Angel, with an additional station in central Hackney before continuing on to Tottenham Hale. The run towards Cheshunt would be excellent news for those in the Lea Valley, and be the driver for considerable further growth. And expect one other key difference in the centre of town. In the Regional option there'd be no station at Piccadilly Circus, because apparently it'd be too close to Tottenham Court Road. It seems Crossrail 2 can have either Hackney Central or Piccadilly Circus but not both.

Any other differences between the Regional and Metro options?
Oh yes. And this one's really important. If TfL go with the Regional option, then the service would be run by 10-carriage Crossrail-style trains serving 250m-long platforms. But if they go with the Metro option, then the service would be run by 4-carriage DLR-style trains serving 120m-long platforms. In the latter case trains would be only half the size, but there could be as many as 40 trains an hour so the number of passengers per hour would still be high.

Hang on, "DLR-style" service?
That's right. You can forget TfL ever again building a tube line with train drivers. Instead expect cab-free trains with no member of staff up front staring out of the window. That's the union-free future.

Building Crossrail has been massively disruptive. Won't building Crossrail 2 be even worse?
Not necessarily. TfL have been long-term clever and protected the central portion of the route from development. Way back in 1991 they safeguarded the route that trains might take, ensuring that any new buildings along the way left sufficient room for Crossrail 2 to squeeze through. Plans were further strengthened in 2008, which should help to minimise any future disruption. Tottenham Court Road won't need to be dug up again, for example - the current major building works will ensure that the Crossrail station is also Crossrail-2-ready. Crossrail 2 is also the reason why Dalston Junction looks far too big for its current levels of traffic, someone's been planning ahead.

Has the entire route been safeguarded?
Er, no. The original safeguarded route anticipated Crossrail 2 taking over the southern end of the District line, but now that won't happen, it'll have its own tunnel. More importantly it anticipated Crossrail 2 taking over the northern end of the Central line from Leytonstone to Epping, but now that won't happen either. There aren't the development possibilities in Essex that there are in north London, so Crossrail 2 will be entirely fresh digging, not a landgrab from the existing network.

Why does the route wiggle about quite so much?
There are two ways to build a new railway. One is to serve a brand new area, and the other is to link together as many existing lines as possible. The Northern line extension to Battersea is an example of the former - it pushes afresh into Nine Elms and links to nothing. Crossrail 2 on the other hand will thread through umpteen existing services, creating numerous alternative routes for passengers and relieving overcrowding on parallel lines. Battersea nil, Crossrail 2.

Surely we don't need another railway already?
Oh yes we do. London's population is getting larger, faster, and people need to get around. The capital's population could be 20% higher by 2030, so either we build more railway capacity or our existing services will become wildly overcrowded.

Isn't it ironic?
50 years ago the Victoria line was built to relieve the Piccadilly line. Now a new service is urgently needed to relieve the Victoria line. While various parts of southeast London await their first tube line, it seems the NE-SW axis is about to get its third.

What's the timescale?
Short-term: nothing.
Medium-term: lots of planning.
Long-term: lengthy disruption as building work gets underway.
Very-very-long-term: a new railway through London. But don't expect it to be running until the early 2030s, that's 20 years hence. London transport doesn't move fast, so best get on and make a start.

So what's the big choice?
Does London get another rail line or another DLR line, that's basically the choice. Long Regional trains rushing across town, or shorter Metro trains shuttling fast through the middle. Take your pick. Join the consultation. Offer your thoughts. Or die waiting.

» Crossrail 2 consultation introduction
» Crossrail 2 animated fly-through
» Crossrail 2 Metro route option (map)
» Crossrail 2 Regional route option (map)
» Crossrail 2 consultation (before 2 August)

Piccadilly: St Ann's Road

2013-05-14T01:00:00.000+01:00

PICCADILLY: Harringay (St Ann's Road)

There are several long gaps between stations on the Piccadilly line. Sometimes that's because the intermediate station was closed, as with Brompton Road (in Belgravia) and York Road (north of King's Cross). But head to Green Lanes in Haringey and there's a mile and a half's gap because the station in the middle was cancelled by order of the Chief Executive Officer and never built. Let's do the half hour walk.

Manor House
We like Manor House station. The platforms are tall and deep, with cream tiles and blue-bordered Way Out enamel. Watch out for the jet black ventilation grilles, each with an identical representation of bucolic horticultural charm. A pillared gate leads to a verdant garden with a trio of doves a-cooing by their cote, which isn't what you expect to see high on a station wall. Up the escalator is a ticket hall with a bobbly ceiling, semi-resembling the Tardis circa 1975. And check out one of the pillars for an impromptu photographic museum featuring various black and white shots of the station and its environs circa 1935. They've been stuck up with yellowing sellotape, but where else are you going to see the original cylindrical Fares tables, and a tram pulling in above. If all tube stations had this personal touch, you might love your local a little more.

Manor House is the only Underground station in the borough of Hackney (and then only just, because the stairs to the northwest come up in Haringey). It's also one of London's entirely underground stations, built beneath a whopper where Green Lanes crosses the Seven Sisters Road. Never ever attempt to cross this monster diagonally. Beside the non-Hackney exit is a grand gated entrance to Finsbury Park, plus the less imposing Park View Cafe. I was unimpressed by their outside food kiosk, partly because their "Egg Benedict" sounds a trifle weedy, but mostly because they dare to sell "Panini's".

The long walk to the next station begins along the upper edge of Finsbury Park. This is the nice bit, so make the most of it. Ahead is the New River, now only a few months short of 400 years old, and a corner of the park designated for hockey and baseball only (because they're big round here). The Arena Shopping Centre looks like retail nirvana, judging by the busy-ness of the car park, but the shops coming up next along Green Lanes have hugely more character. We're entering Little Turkey, a dash of London with a flavour of extreme eastern Europe. It seems such a friendly place, or maybe that's because every other shop serves up food of some kind and teems with people. Maybe meze, perhaps baklava, and possibly some of whatever that floury thing is being bashed out by the lady in the shop window by the bus stop.

Disney's are celebrating their centenary this year - that's the two floor furniture showroom on Grand Parade, now looking surprisingly out of place. But it's easy to see where all those tables and sofas might end up if you turn off the main drag and head up one of the parallel streets. This is the so-called Harringay Ladder, a twenty-rung residential district whose smart terraces must have estate agents aflutter. Only two features link these hillside avenues - one the New River threading through, the other a narrow pedestrian alleyway that runs for almost a mile between sequential houses.

Harringay (St Ann's Road)
And now we reach the junction where the Piccadilly line could have had a station, but doesn't. St Ann's Road crosses four railways on its long curve down towards Stamford Hill, but merits no station on any of them. One was planned here at the western end but Frank Pick, Chief Executive of the London Passenger Transport Board, turned it down. He thought this street corner already had a good enough bus and tram service, which may have been the case then, but is only half true today. Instead the majestic Salisbury Hotel, now a restored pub, remains unserved. Its French Renaissance façade dominates the exterior, while inside are Art Nouveau motifs and a cast-iron columned bar. Again it's slightly at odds with the distinctly non-English non-Victorian nature of most of the surrounding businesses, but that's the joy of this cosmopolitan neighbourhood.

The Piccadilly line may not be obvious on the surface, but this long run between stations necessitated the appearance of a ventilation shaft a little further along. Check the corner of Colina Road for a boxy brick building rising to a dark grille at rooftop level. On one side a verge of flowers is blooming an almost appropriate shade of blue, while on the other is the car park for the outlet store nextdoor. Why go to Jermyn Street for your posh Hawes and Curtis shirts when you can pick them up cheap or wholesale in cufflink-unfriendly N8? But for the tube connection to Piccadilly Circus walk on. The shops at last give way to flats and houses, and only the occasional Bulgarian Breakfast bar, before reaching the confined expanse of Duckett's Common. And at the far end of that...

Turnpike Lane
We like Turnpike Lane even more than we like Manor House. That's mostly because it has exterior presence, and has it in spades, if a Modernist touch is what you like. The main ticket hall is a lofty cuboid lit by blue-rimmed windows, above which rises a tower with louvred ventilators and a flagpole on top. It has to be by Charles Holden, and it has to be Grade II listed, and rest assured it's both. A restaurant and a pawnbrokers have taken the original retail unit to one side, while the busy modern bus station has been carefully hidden round the back. The main pedestrian entrance is down globe-lit steps beneath a low curved slab. But there are feeder subways elsewhere, with each caged entrance labelled "TURNPIKE LANE STN." in white capitals on brown.

The interior of the ticket hall is dramatic, raised to double height with strong horizontal features. Above the ticket window is a blue clock in ITV Schools Programmes style, and in the centre a classical bowl-shaped uplighters. There are more of these down the escalator, and a subtly different version on the lower concourse with what looks like a white ceramic loudspeaker blooming on top. They're only a minor architectural tweak, but they add such panache to the circulation space. And finally the platforms, which are remarkably similar to those at Manor House, as you might expect for stations opened on the same day. Again there are jet black ventilation grilles, again depicting the station's name literally, so this time with horse-drawn traffic approaching a turnpike tollhouse. And if you've enjoyed this trip, just three minutes on the next train south and you can go round again.

Bladdered

2013-05-13T07:00:00.000+01:00

For reasons I have never adequately understood, my bladder knows when I am almost home.

It can stay dormant for hours if required, which is a useful trick, but then suddenly wakes up as my front door approaches. The reflex is entirely subliminal - I don't consciously think "ooh, I'm nearly back, thank god." But then something kicks in, like a switch being flicked or a curtain being drawn back, and I hurry to get home a little faster.

I'm surprised by the precision of it all. I can be out for the entire afternoon, or trapped on a long train ride somewhere, and nothing happens. But hit Bow Road, or walk across the pavement close to home, and a synapse fires. I switch from calm and contented to a feeling of mild foreboding, all in a matter of seconds. A nagging feeling emerges that perhaps it might be wise to reach my bathroom soon, and my pace quickens, just in case.

It's nothing medically embarrassing, you understand. I'm not talking about incontinence or anything like that, just the natural feeling you get as a hint that all's full. And it's not usually an issue, nothing more than a slight inconvenience. But occasionally it scales up somewhat as I reach for my key, and hypes up further on the long trek from communal to personal front door. The urgency continues to increase as I battle with the final lock and then... and then everything's alright again.

Sometimes I'm climbing the steps when the feeling first arrives, and that's OK. Sometimes it happens as my front door comes into sight, and that's probably fine. But other times it happens further back, and that's not so good. I might still have a road to cross, or half a mile of street to walk down, and that's nowhere near as comfortable.

Returning home after a visit to the pub is the worst, obviously, because on such occasions I could be filled with considerable excess liquid. I'll have been sensible and done the necessary before departing, and survived the entire tube journey back, but alighting in Bow can be the trigger for my bladder to twinge. Still several minutes from home, all I can do is practise the self-control I've gained over many years and speed up a little, perhaps a lot, as I wish perhaps I'd chosen to live a little closer to the station.

Things were far worse, interestingly, before I moved to London. I had to drive everywhere then, which meant keeping my car in a garage located a short walk from home. I'd drive up to the garage door, step out of my car to open it, and that's when my evil bladder would kick in. It recognised my homecoming without registering I was at the wrong door, but sent an irreversible message to my brain anyway. I still had to raise the garage door, negotiate the car inside without scraping it, then close the door and lock it down, and all this before I could cross the lawn to reach the safety of home. Sometimes I'd be jigging a merry dance before my parking shuffle was complete, occasionally even abandoning the car mid-manoeuvre and hoping no neighbours would drive home before I returned. I think I got away with it, just about, but it was a close shave once or twice.

I'm not complaining about my situation, it's not usually a problem. Indeed quite the opposite, I'm more than pleased by the length of time I can generally engage in self-control. But I don't understand how my bladder can be quite so good at noticing I'm almost home, even when I'm absolutely not thinking about it, then kicking in with a sense of urgency related to geographical proximity.

And relax.

Not Water Chariots

2013-05-12T07:00:00.000+01:00

Remember Water Chariots? The greedy company who hoped to clean up on river-based transport during the Olympics? They blundered in with an over-optimistic business model, hiked up prices beyond the heights of reason and promptly sank into administration before the end of the Games. Good riddance. But there was one unfortunate consequence of their demise, and that's the absence of a legacy service. Water Chariots were awarded their initial contract on the basis that they had the best plans for a post-2012 waterbus service, but it's now 2013 and we don't have one. You can hop on a narrowboat from Camden to Little Venice or grab a cruiser down the Thames, but the Lea remains stubbornly passenger-free.

A dozen of Water Chariots' former fleet have ended up further upriver and now belong to the Lee and Stort Boat Co. They've transformed most of their firesale stock into "luxury holiday boat's that are built in the most modern contemporary design", but use other craft to run waterbuses and party boats between Hertford and Ware. A niche market perhaps, but yesterday they sent a boat down to Bromley-by-Bow to show what a post-Olympic waterbus service might have looked like. A couple of itineraries were available as part of the Fun on the Green festival, one south to Bow Locks, the other north to Old Ford Lock. And both free of charge, which has to be a better deal than Water Chariots mercenary £95 return.

So what's the River Lea waterbus experience like? Is there a potential leisure market for this sort of thing, or was Water Chariots' legacy plan pure bluster? I couldn't resist being taken for a ride.

That's the first time in two years I've ever seen a boat pulled up at the Three Mills water bus stop. This was built with money from British Waterways and the Olympic Delivery Authority, and boasts a lovely metal sign depicting the nearby mill buildings. But lo, there was the former Water Chariot low in the water, with most of its previous branding removed but still with "Fast Track Express Hospitality Service" painted on the side. This is no luxury vehicle, as I've long suspected. It's more a cavernous space with a metal floor - easy to mop should any partygoer ever throw up - upon which are laid out rows of very ordinary blue chairs of the kind you might find in a church hall. The best seats are the curve of wooden benches in the prow, so well done to you if you grabbed those. Meanwhile a counter near the entrance sells drinks and bar snacks, but only if people are interested, which it seems they're generally not.

There are two reasons you might ride a water bus. One is to travel to somewhere else, and the other is to enjoy the view. In this case we were on a round trip so it was the view that was all important. Unfortunately, due to potentially inclement weather, all the window spaces had been covered by protective plastic so the view was pretty poor. A little blurry, a little drippy, a little smeared - and absolutely nothing worth taking any photos through. There were a couple of breaks in the plastic surround, so a tiny number of people could congregate here and look out properly, but everyone else missed out. Perhaps the crew feared it might rain horizontally partway through the ride, or perhaps they thought we were all wusses who'd not survive outdoors except in a floating bubble. But as an observation boat in lockdown mode, sorry, this former Water Chariot sucked.

We headed off slowly, oh so slowly, towards the Olympic Park. We passed the back of Tesco's car park and a graffitied wall, the first of many along the way. A vista opened up towards Stratford, but only because acres of warehouses have been levelled and nobody's yet got round to building flats in their place. It was nice to be down at water level, close to passing swans and several moorhens nesting in the reeds. It was less thrilling to stare at the undulating iron barrier that lines most of the edge of the Lea Navigation, but this is potentially crucial flood protection for my part of London so I'm not complaining.

The bridge at the Bow Flyover is very low, beneath flat concrete slabs which would prevent anything much taller than a narrowboat from making its way upstream. Further demolition is taking place beyond as Crossrail destroys increasingly more of what used to be Cooks Road. They're making up for that by digging a new tunnel portal, which now extends into the river itself behind a protective cofferdam. Even at the weekend there were half a dozen workers here, standing on the scaffolding and removing barrowloads of spoil from somewhere down deep. "PIES" screamed a sprawl of graffiti round the next bend, beneath a flurry of inelegant rail bridges. The area remains more post-industrial than green, although thankfully it's not yet blandly residential throughout, and there is still wildlife aplenty afloat.

A commentary would have been nice, I thought, if the crew could have thought of anything to say apart from "oh look, there's the Olympic Stadium". That's best viewed from further away before it disappears behind yet another brick wall and metal security fence. On we ploughed towards the back of Fish Island, overtaken by several bikes and the occasional walking group. And at last we dipped beneath the Northern Outfall Sewer to our final destination at Old Ford Lock. This provides a natural barrier to any water bus service, because to proceed through the lock and then have to come back again would be a lengthy and pointless activity. Instead we turned round slowly in the basin, without ever stopping at the mothballed Water Bus Stop alongside, and started our return trip.

I tried to imagine that I was seeing the waterside for the very first time, rather than for the hundredth, to try to infer the route's likely tourist potential. It's not the worst stretch of river in London, not by any means, but it lacks anything I could readily describe as a highlight. The underside of the Bow Flyover and an imperfect view of a 2012 arena are never going to attract a substantial body of visitors to the water. There's surely no long-term business model here, no all-year waterbus option, not even on the longer run past Bow Locks down the Limehouse Cut. Even a fiver a ticket would be pushing it, I reckon, given the lack of stuff to see. But I'm still pleased I've finally been for a pleasureboat trip along my local river, however hard it was to look out through the plastic and properly enjoy the ride.

Fun on the Green

2013-05-11T00:01:00.000+01:00

It's National Mills Weekend!

That means windmills and watermills across the country are open for your delectation and delight. Whethere you're in Anglesey, Devon or Norfolk, there'll likely be one near you.

You could visit one of London's four open windmills.
✖ Brixton (Sat, Sun, 1-5pm)
✖ Shirley (Sun, 12 noon - 5pm)
✖ Upminster (Sat, Sun, 2-5pm) (Craft Fair Sun)
✖ Wimbledon (Sat 2-5pm) (Sun 11-5pm)

Or you could come to Bromley-by-Bow and visit the world's largest surviving tidal mill.
❂ House Mill (Sat, Sun 11am-4pm)

And if you come today, you could also enjoy this...

Fun on the Green has been organised by the Lee Valley Regional Park Authority. There'll be conservation and wildlife activities, sport for all, face painting, a dog behaviour clinic, petanque, football, yoga, drawing classes, a police cycle surgery and organised play in the Wild Kingdom. The latter is Three Mills' new outdoor playspace, opened last September, paid for by Olympic legacy cash and aimed squarely at young adventurers. There'll also be free boat trips and themed guided tours, which is a proper rarity hereabouts and a potential treat.

25 minute boat trip to Bow Locks: 11.00, 12.30, 2.00, 4.00
50 minute boat trip to Old Ford Lock: 11.30, 1.00, 3.00
30 minute Guided Island tour: 12.45, 1.45, 2.30, 3.30

Refreshments will be available on Three Mills Green with a tea tent provided by the East London Women’s Institute. Meanwhile the Miller’s House Café will have a BBQ along with their usual range of refreshments. All this plus the possibility of visiting Roman Road Market beforehand, and it could be E3's most visit-worthy Saturday for a very long time.

W&C evening extension

2013-05-10T07:00:00.000+01:00

At what time do London's last tube trains run into their last stations?

Last trains: Monday - Saturday
Bakerloo: arrives Stonebridge Park 0053
Central: arrives Loughton 0130
Circle: arrives Hammersmith 0103
District: arrives Upminster 0133
Hammersmith & City: arrives Barking 0114
Jubilee: arrives Stratford 0112
Metropolitan: arrives Uxbridge 0123
Northern: arrives Edgware 0113
Piccadilly: arrives Heathrow T123 0121
Victoria: arrives Walthamstow 0102
Waterloo & City: arrives Waterloo 2152 (Mon-Fri)
Waterloo & City: arrives Waterloo 1842 (Sat)

From Monday to Saturday all London Underground lines shut down around 1am-ish, except one.
I'm sure you can spot the odd line out.

Last trains: Sunday
Bakerloo: arrives Queens Park 0035
Central: arrives Loughton 0036
Circle: arrives Hammersmith 0039
District: arrives Upminster 0059
Hammersmith & City: arrives Hammersmith 0059
Jubilee: arrives Stanmore 0035
Metropolitan: arrives Uxbridge 0100
Northern: arrives High Barnet 0022
Piccadilly: arrives Cockfosters 0056
Victoria: arrives Walthamstow 0024
Waterloo & City: LINE CLOSED

On Sunday all London Underground lines shut down between midnight and 1am, except one.
I'm sure you can spot the odd line out.

Ah yes, the odd one out is that peculiar two-station beast, the Waterloo & City line.
It shuts down before 10pm on weekdays.
It shuts down before 7pm on Saturdays.
And it doesn't bother opening at all on Sundays.
It's a very-early-shutty-downy sort of line.

But (fanfare) all that's about to change.

A new tube map has been released - online if not yet in stations - available here.
It's being issued mainly because Edgware Road (Bakerloo) is closing until Christmas.
But check the daggered list down the edge and the big W&C news is announced.

That's quite an extension for the Waterloo and City line.
On weekdays that's another two and a half hours of shuttling back and forth.
And on Saturdays that's almost six extra hours - the entire evening.

No longer will you have to think "Oh, I wonder if the Waterloo & City has closed down yet?"
From 2 June it'll run as late into the evening as all the other lines, near enough.

Apart from on Sundays.
There'll still be no Sunday service whatsoever, just like there isn't at the moment.
But the rest of the week, woohoo, extended service.

Remember, always check out the new tube map carefully.
You never do know quite what you might discover.

Except there is one really stupid thing about the tube map announcement.
"From 2 June operating hours from Mondays to Saturdays will be extended to 0030."
Except that 2 June is a Sunday.
So make that 3 June instead.

Re-class-ification

2013-05-09T07:00:00.000+01:00

Prime Ministerial briefing paper - embargo 09/05/13

RE-CLASS-IFICATION

Hi David

We've had this excellent idea down at the Department, and we wondered awfully whether you might be able to squeeze it into your Queen's Speech next year?

It's regarding the class system. When Britain was great, it used to look like this...

UPPER CLASS

MIDDLE CLASS

LOWER CLASS

But then things went all PC and somehow this happened...

WE ARE ALL EQUAL

...which is obviously ghastly, and so very at odds with the meritocracy we want to impose.

What Britain needs is a class system for the 21st century. One that rewards endeavour over expectation, and raises strivers over skivers. We think we've found it.

ELITE CLASS

PRIVATE CLASS

PUBLIC CLASS

UNDERCLASS

The new system has four classes rather than three, to better divide the population and thus increase aspiration. In particular we have chosen to split the main body of the proletariat into those salaried by the private sector and those subsidised by the public sector. As we hasten the drive to sell off government services, clearly every employee we can shift into a private company is better deserving of our respect.

The table above provides an overview of the new class system, but there'll also be a detailed series of subdivisions for government use. This will enable us to fine tune the ranking of our population, and will also pass on further subliminal messages about what's really important in this country.

ELITE CLASS	1a ROYALTY & THE PEERAGE	Because nothing ever changes at the very top
	1b HM FORCES	Forever hurrah for Our Boys in the military
	1c BANKERS	Bastards all, but so important to our economy
PRIVATE CLASS	2a HOMESOWNERS	Anyone with a second home has really made it
	2b HOMEOWNERS	Because an Englishman's castle is his home
	2c RENTERS	Only social failures and young people rent
PUBLIC CLASS	3a STATE PENSIONERS	The bedrock of our nation (and they still vote)
	3b UPPER PROFESSIONALS	Judges, midwives, immigration officials, etc
	3c LOWER PROFESSIONALS	Teachers, nurses, social workers, librarians, etc
UNDER- CLASS	4a STUDENTS	Supposedly intelligent individuals on loans
	4b FAMILIES ON BENEFITS	We especially hate any with more than three kids
	4c THE DISABLED	They could probably get jobs if they tried
	4d THE UNEMPLOYED	Wastrels who need to look for work harder
	4e PRISONERS	Elite class members are exempt from this category
	4f IMMIGRANTS	Our focus group told us to put them at the bottom

We intend to disseminate this new ladder of aspiration through a series of lifestyle articles published in Mail Online. We're hoping that Mumsnet will pick up the underlying subtext, and that the BBC News Magazine will launch a "What class are you really?" interactive quiz.

Our ultimate aim is a fully reclassified society in which tax breaks and state benefits are paid in proportion to the intrinsic value of an individual. In essence we need to re-establish the fact that some people are inherently better than others. I think we're nearly there, David, but one last push should fix society for good.

Yours hierarchically,

A. Minister

Amberley Museum

2013-05-08T07:00:00.000+01:00

Day out: Amberley Museum

My job today is to persuade you to visit a museum 50 miles from London. Not because I've been asked, but because I suspect you might enjoy it. As such I'll be dropping into today's review a number of phrases designed to hook specific members of my audience. Watch out for these as you read through.

Location: Station Rd, Amberley, West Sussex BN18 9LT [map]
Open: 10:00-17:00 (mid March - end October)
Admission: £11 (£6.60 children) (under 4s free)
Website: www.amberleymuseum.co.uk

Amberley Museum is located in a chalk quarry in the South Downs, close to where the river Arun cuts through the escarpment. It was dug out between the 1840s and the 1960s, with the chalk burnt on site in kilns to make lime. After the business closed the Southern Industrial History Centre Trust moved in, deeming the 36 acre site ideal for a museum. Over the years it's grown into quite a collection of "stuff", especially buildings rescued from elsewhere in southern England. Although industrial heritage is the watchword, there's a particularly strong emphasis on crafts, transport and the history of communications.

Catch the Bognor Regis train from London Victoria and you can be at Amberley in less than 90 minutes. The entrance to the museum is immediately opposite the station, which is no coincidence because the entrance lies along a path that used to be a goods siding. On special event days, of which there are many, the main gates may be open to allow to allow in a stream of vintage motorcycles or whatever. Those on foot enter through the shop, then the lime kilns, before emerging past the blacksmith into the main square. And then, well, what a choice.

For starters...

There's a Print Workshop! Not just a shed full of exhibits, but actual working presses that still produce printed materials (available for sale). Also on show is the last hot metal front page to roll out of Fleet Street (which'd be the Sunday Express from 1986).

There's a Radio and Television Exhibition! Step inside the wooden shack for an extensive history from crystal sets to Betamax. Learn about Peter Pendleton from Marconi in Writtle, the world's first DJ. Gawp at valves, and old Sinclair Electronics adverts and a proper BBC microphone. Listen in to the radio hams chatting to new friends around the world via short wave (I was almost excited, until the bloke on the other end turned out to be from Norfolk). And end up in a room crammed with wirelesses, reel to reels and cathode ray monsters. I'm sure we used to have one of those.

For a recce round the entire site there are two options...

There's a vintage bus! In fact there are lots, tucked away in a couple of preserved bus garages round the site, but some are quite fragile so don't come out often. Climb aboard and take a ride around the site, welcomed aboard by a conductress in pristine white Southdown uniform. And she'll clip you a ticket too.

There's a narrow gauge railway! It runs round the edge of the site, up the tongue below the cliff and back again. Hop on for free, if you can find a seat, or maybe squeeze your entire family in beside an unsuspecting solo visitor and taint his ride. "Sit down Hayley, no sit down." "Look Noah it's Thomas, toot toot, toot toot!" Volunteer crews (who like playing trains) ride the footplate and spray steam into the sky (or possibly over you). Watch out for the ticket office rescued from Hove station along the way.

Meanwhile...

There's a bric-a-brac stall! It's more a caravan really, with a pair of volunteers keeping an eye on the books, videos, toys and general bits. If you're having trouble persuading your other half to visit Amberley, maybe mention they do shopping too.

There's a museum of roadmaking! Not cars, but the actual surface on which they run, in copious detail. The building's funded by the Worshipful Company of Paviors, and it's hidden in a chalk pit up the hill so you might well get the place to yourself. As well as a wall of roadsigns (pre and post Worboys), and a big orange cement mixer, there's also a 1970-model traffic bollard and a room round the back including a 1960s Moulton bike. There's even a display of perforated circles showing the development of the Road Fund Licence. For the win.

There's a hillside walk! Most visitors don't bother, it's a bit steep if you're young, and it's a bit steep if you're old. But take the five minute climb up the zigzag path and you'll pass bluebells, primroses and violets, or at least at this time of year you will. And from the top there's a great view down across the South Pit, the entire museum and the rolling Weald beyond. Just me and a yellow butterfly on my visit, gorgeous.

And then...

There's a Bodger's Camp! In a glade by the nature trail, a cluster of huts is home to a trio of woodcraft activities. Colin makes shafts and spindles on his pole lathe. Barnersby & Son make rakes and gate hurdles. They both sell their wares and offer the opportunity of a hands-on course, as does the beardy bloke who'll help you to make your own bow and arrow.

There's a pottery! Tilly makes her own stuff on site, including something personalised I've bought for one of you. And she spelt it right.

There's a De Witt lime kiln block, which English Heritage recently threw money at. There's a wheelwright's shop, a relocated roadside cafe and a fire station! There's a village garage with an Austin 7 inside!

Whereas right down the end...

There's an electricity pavilion! It's a big metal shed originally filled by the local electricity company, celebrating all the household uses this magic juice has brought. I loved the mass of historical artefacts, from early electrics via a 1930s shopfront to a Goblin teasmade. There's even a display of 100 years of light switches, and two Sinclair C5s.

There's a Connected World exhibition! BT have a few museum outposts across the country, and here at Amberley they have the telephone collection. It gives up around 2006, so the mobiles look almost prehistoric, but the rest go way back. It was proper nostalgic actually dialling a number, and to try out an A and B button payphone, and to learn how a telephone exchange works (from a 1960s video).

There's a Railway Hall! It's got little working trains and carriages inside, including a MailRail loco with all the canvas hoppers still intact. And there's a green painted hopper from the Bond film "A View To A Kill", inside which Roger Moore and Grace Jones battled, and still painted with the Zorin logo. The museum was used for filming exterior scenes for the mine sequence back in 1984, with a rail tunnel through to the quarry next door playing the part of the entrance.

It is a veritable feast, is Amberley. A pick and mix of heritage goodies, both educational and hands-on, but the exploration is always entertaining. An ideal place for grandparents ("look we had one of those") to bring the family, or for anyone keen to dig through generally uncharted aspects of our nation's recent past. I stayed five hours in the chalk pit, on a glorious Bank Holiday Monday, and revelled in the experience.

And nearby, so you know...
• a minute down the road by the turnpike bridge there's a pub, a brasserie and riverside cafe, each with a capacious car park.
• fifteen minutes walk away is the village of Amberley, a chocolate-box village of curved lanes and thatched roofs. It has a tearoom, a 12th century church and a pottery, but no longer a pub (because the new owner wants to turn it into two houses, which local residents are not happy about)
• the South Downs Way crosses the valley very close by, so before long you can be striding up onto the escarpment for a stunning view.

Queen of Roman Road

2013-05-07T07:00:00.000+01:00

Tonight Bow E3 hits your TV screen. You probably won't notice, because it's appearing at the same time as the opening round of The Apprentice. But switch to Channel 4 at nine, or use your favourite catch-up service later, and you can enjoy an hour spent down Roman Road Market. It's all part of the new series Mary Portas Queen Of The High Street, in which everyone's favourite shopping guru descends on various retail centres and attempts to enhance their profitability. Later in the series she'll be in Liskeard and Margate, but episode 1 sees Mary doing up a traditional East End market cor blimey how's yer father.

Tonight's show was planned last summer, around the time that the Department for Communities and Local Government were selecting their shortlist of Portas Pilots to receive central funding. Roman Road didn't appear on the initial list, and there have been mutterings that it only sneaked on later because the TV company wanted it. "Roman Road would be the perfect road to bring back to its former glory" they said in an email to the civil servant in charge of the project. "Roman Rd is on top of our list and we're still hopeful that all our towns are part of the government selected towns" they said in another. There's no indication that the civil service reacted to this prodding, obviously, but hey presto here's Roman Road kicking off the series tonight.

Tonight's show was filmed in November last year. Mary came down to Roman Road on a regular basis to talk to stallholders and try to boost takings. She tried a bit of rebranding with swathes of stripy material, and brought in a few food trucks to stir demand. She also had words with the council after discovering that traders earned their pitch merely by rising to the top of the waiting list, not because what they had to sell was appropriate. A minor flurry of local publicity ensued, which some residents almost noticed, and the TV company duly filmed the results.

Tonight's show was edited earlier this year. I know this because the production company contacted me in February to ask if they could use a photo of mine. For narrative reasons they needed an image of the Woolworths that used to stand halfway down the street, a sight rarely included on London's tourist trail, and I just happened to have one lurking on Flickr. There's no guarantee it survived the cut, but if you see a picture of Bow's Woolworths with Christmas sparkle in the window, that's mine. It'll probably be accompanied by a shot of the Iceland that's taken over the building since, just to make a point, but that's Roman Road for you. Hell, we've even still got a Wimpy.

I don't know precisely what tonight's show will reveal, but I thought I'd wander 'down the Roman' on Saturday to see how the market's doing now. Are there any obvious improvements six months on, or have things reverted to normal now the TV cameras and Mary have gone away?

As markets go, Roman Road's fairly smart. Don't come here looking for pan scrubbers and value detergent, it's not that kind of place. I only spotted one stall doing flowers, and one doing fruit and veg, and one doing cheap plastic smartphone covers. Instead the majority of the stalls are clothes or fashion related, which I think has always been the case, but feels a little more concentrated than before. Dresses flapped in the wind on Saturday, and drizzle splattered the handbags on display. One stall offered Bling Bling Shoes, while another had women crowding around to pick from a varied selection of cheap accessories. Ladies of a larger size found their dress choices beneath awnings down a sidestreet, while younger customers could pick up a "silk dress" for £3. Is every garment along here the 100% genuine article? I have my doubts, but then affordability has always been more important than authenticity down Roman Road.

Affordable perhaps, but never quite desirable. Mary hoped to nudge the market upmarket by bringing in the moneyed local crowd brought to Bow by the Olympic factor, but I saw no sign of these people on my walk along the street. Everyone I passed could easily have been a character on EastEnders, economically speaking - there are no bankers or social media planners here. Instead I passed old ladies discussing debt, two friends bickering, gentlemen on mobility scooters, young families seeking bargains... just the sort of people who'd have been here before.

A team of market inspectors were working their way down the street with a clipboard. Kids clustered around "Mickey's Sweets, established 25 years" (in which case that definitely wasn't Mickey running it). A pair of small but angry dogs engaged in a yap-off across the central gangway. Justin Timberlake rang out from a transistor radio, or its modern equivalent. At a stall entitled "Perfumes Similar To" the proprietor had carefully stuck a printed notice over the word "Similar". And up another sideroad a concrete mixer reversed into the site where a new Tesco Metro is being built. Not even Mary can hold back that retail intrusion.

But there is one long-term change here, and that's the appearance of "street food". For those who aren't aware, that's artisan nourishment, one step up from the usual van serving burger and onions. When Mary brought these traders in last year I didn't think they'd last, I couldn't see local folk stumping up. But although a couple of stalls have vanished, a hardcore remains, mostly down the western end by The Albert pub. Saint Sugar have breads and pastries, giant coloured meringues and pains au chocolat, although they're not selling like hot cakes. Here too are Original Fry Up Material, a pair of entrepreneurs with a converted ice cream van who'll fry you breakfast in a muffin smeared with "secret sauce". I'm not usually one for such extravagances, but my takeaway chunky meat treat was delicious. Watch out for OFM on TV tonight (apparently Mary's crew followed them around for a day to see how their homemade sausagemeat was put together), and at various other London locations (including Brick Lane on Sundays).

I spotted Mary at the weekend, not in downtown Bow but in Maida Vale where she lives. She was out with the family (other half, baby son, dog) at the Canalway Cavalcade, perusing the stalls above Little Venice basin. It was good to see an entrepreneurial expert taking appropriate interest in retail opportunities in her own neighbourhood. Whether she'll have a long term effect on mine is yet to be seen, but let's hope tonight's TV programme isn't already over-optimistically out of date.

Park Royal and Twyford Abbey

2013-05-06T01:00:00.000+01:00

PICCADILLY: Park Royal & Twyford Abbey

The Piccadilly line has more than its fair share of abandoned stations. The more well known are in the centre of town (Aldwych, Down Street, Brompton Road, York Road) but there are also plenty further out. This one's in a corner of Ealing and, just its luck, closed before the Piccadilly even arrived. Let me run you through a history in three parts.

Twyford Abbey
You'd think, if there was an abbey in West London, you'd have heard of it. But Twyford Abbey's hard enough to spot, let alone experience. To be fair it's not really an abbey at all, that's just the name given to the manor house when it was rebuilt by a wealthy coachman 300 years ago. The house then lent its name to the surrounding area, a small group of houses round a 13th century chapel, before being taken over by a group of monks in 1901. They used it as a nursing home, at least until 1988 when they ran out of money and relocated, leaving Twyford Abbey empty. And, somewhat unexpectedly, it's remained empty to this day. There are developers in situ, there are vague plans, but it's difficult to do anything dramatic with a Grade II listed building, and even more so when the building's becoming increasing derelict. One suspects the developers are hoping the building will fall down one day, but it hasn't yet, and remains a not-quite crumbling shell with ambiguous potential.

There is a front gate, but it's firmly locked. Signs attached to the railings warn "Keep Out", "Strictly No Admittance", and the gatehouse is still occupied by a security guard. The drive beyond the gates is sufficiently long and leafy to shield the house from prying eyes, so for a view you need to walk round the houses. At the far end of Brentmead Gardens, almost at the North Circular Road, stands St Mary's Church. It could be an electricity substation, this postwar erection, were it not for the tower and the statue of Mary over the door. But walk up the side through the churchyard and there's the old 13th century chapel tacked onto the back, extended from a capacity of 40 to service the growing population. And beyond that, past the trees and through the hedge, there's the best view you'll get of Twyford Abbey.

It looks a bit like a castle, although those are fake crenellations, and the entire façade has an air of pastiche. The boarded up windows and detached clockfaces don't help. But the surest sign of decay are the yellow and blue-striped awnings flapping from the balconies. Some are intact and extended, others bluntly ripped, others blown up onto the roof above. It's like someone closed down a hotel a quarter of a century ago and whisked the guests away, which in effect they did. The gardens are extensive but now widely overgrown, with cedars rising above, and with tree roots destroying foundations. You could squeeze hundreds of flats into this abandoned space, but as yet nobody has, and so Twyford Abbey decays unseen.
» Four sets of photos from inside Twyford Abbey
» David's video from 2008, stepping through the hedge to explore

Park Royal & Twyford Abbey station
Park Royal earned its name in the same way as did Queen's Park - from the Royal Agricultural Show. The organisers were tired of moving this annual extravaganza round the country so bought a permanent 100 acre site in West London nudging up to Twyford Abbey. The first show at Park Royal opened on 23 June 1903, also the first day that a new station opened alongside on Twyford Abbey Road. The Metropolitan District Railway used the occasion to launch their new extension from Acton through to South Harrow, that's the vertical blue line to the left of a modern tube map. The station was wasn't built with longevity in mind, more a staircase up to a pair of wooden platforms, but it did the job. The Show was attended by King Edward VII, Princess Alexandra and numerous fine specimens of cattle, sheep and pigs. All the latest advances in agricultural machinery and breeding techniques were showcased, and 65000 visitors came along to take a look.

Attendance dropped in 1904, perhaps because West London was so far from the rural heartland. The Royal Agricultural Society attempted to lease parts of the site to other users, but only Queen's Park Rangers could be tempted, moving their home ground (briefly) to the horse-ring. Alas 1905 proved even less successful, with only 24000 visitors turning up, so the Society cut their losses and sold up. The site found more favour with industry, being ideally located for road, rail and canal transport, and eventually grew into the largest industrial estate in southern England. Most notably the horse-ring that had been QPR's home was reborn as the Guinness Brewery, at one point the most productive brewery in the world, but closed in 2005 and since entirely demolished.

And all trace of the station has vanished too. It closed on 6 July 1931 when a new temporary station was opened on Western Avenue half a mile to the south. At this point the trains were still part of the District line - the Piccadilly didn't take over until July 1932. Park Royal & Twyford Abbey was then completely dismantled, with some of its girders transported to Devon to create a footbridge at Dawlish station. A patch of parkland now exists alongside, providing grassy slopes for marketing folk at Diageo HQ to sit on over lunch. It's strangely bland, but rather prettier than the decaying factories hereabouts until not so very long ago.
» A history of Park Royal and Twyford Abbey

Park Royal station
That temporary station on Western Avenue was soon replaced by something permanant, and majestic. Park Royal is a thrusting 30s masterpiece in an Art Deco/Streamline Moderne style. It looks like a Charles Holden, but is actually the work of his proteges Herbert Welch and Felix Lander. The architecture fits together like a set of building blocks - a cuboid for the tower, a cylinder for the ticket hall and a curved quadrant for the shops alongside. Park Royal's brick tower dominates the A40 alongside, rising to mega-roundels only on the sides the public can see. One of the flats above the shopping arcade extends into the foot of the tower, making this one of the most desirable properties in London for the tube-obsessed modernist. The ticket hall is double height with high level windows, its roof supported by symmetrically arranged fluted piers. A cascade of clerestory windows leads each staircase down to platform level. And here, halfway along the northbound, is one of the most delightful waiting rooms on the network. It's more of a shed really, with narrow internal benches and a door that slides shut to keep the winter at bay. In spring, with blossom all around, I can think of few finer stations to dally at.

Battle of Britain Bunker

2013-05-05T01:00:00.000+01:00

PICCADILLY: RAF Uxbridge

Across the road from Uxbridge town centre, World War II was won. And if you're thinking that sounds rather too grand a claim, see what you think later...

They hid Bomber Command well. You turn left out of the tube station, walk straight past the shopping centre and dip underneath the roundabout. A few years ago you'd have reached the gates of RAF Uxbridge, but the MOD closed that down in 2010 as part of a cost saving exercise. Its 110 acres are destined to become a vast housing estate, if the market ever picks up, under the overall mantle of St Andrew's Park. But for now the gates are locked, and the security fence remains, and 1000+ homes remain unbuilt.

Except look just to the left of the gates and there's a remarkable public footpath. Step through and you get to walk amidst the mothballed remains of an air force base for almost half a mile. Don't expect runways and hangars, this is the barracks end of the site, so what you'll see is mostly utilitarian residential architecture. Some of the forces families hereabouts got to live in dull flats, while others lived in council house-style terraces. They're looking rather worse for wear by now, some lining partly-overgrown streets, others with their doors flapping open to the weather. Continuing down the slope the site opens out to leafy parkland where the river Pinn runs through the valley, although there's no getting through for now, nor has there been for some time.

The path turns beyond the river, near a sign for "The Pub" which no longer sells subsidised pints. A few new foundations are ready, and workmen with vans and diggers are busy doing minor building work even at the weekend. Keep going past the civilian entrance for cars, and veer right towards a white-painted mansion. This is Hillingdon House, whose estate the government compulsorily purchased in 1915, and which would later become HQ to Bomber Command. The developers have it pencilled in as a hotel and restaurant, but for now it stands out of reach beyond temporary fencing. You may be doubting you're on the right road by now, but that was the idea, and helped ensure the Germans never suspected. On down the horse chestnut avenue, through the gates, past the car park, and stop beside the Hurricane. That unassuming shelter down the steps, there's a whole wartime bunker under there.

The Battle of Britain Bunker has been open to the public by appointment since 1975, but only recently has The Curator opened up the place to allcomers. For three months (ending at the end of June), it's open each weekend between 10am and 4pm, and all you have to do is get here. Volunteers will welcome you, accept any donations you care to give, then direct you down into the earth. The staircase has more than seventy steps, in case stairs aren't really your thing, and they're lined with quotes and photos and facsimile posters. And then you're into the bombproof corridors, protected beneath umpteen feet of earth and concrete.

Beyond a mini exhibition, take your seat for a 12 minute film in the former Signals Room. It's nicely informative, as you'd expect when The Curator is presenting, yet cut together with a certain endearing amateurism. And when that's over you get to enter the Operations Room, which is the heart of things, and where (if you're lucky) you'll get a proper explanatory talk. In the centre of the room is a sloping table with a map of southern England - the area covered by No. 11 (Fighter) Group. It's set out to show the aerial situation at 11:30am on 15th September 1940, a time when Churchill himself was present, and which turned out to be the peak of the Battle of Britain. Up on the walls is a complex system of lights, one vertical set for each squadron at each participating airfield base. By watching these change, and matching them with the coded tokens being pushed about on the table, instant decisions were made that helped change the course of British history.

Those decisions were taken in the room above, behind the curved glass, from the green swivel chair. A separate window shields the Royal Box - an unexpected luxury added for a visit by the King and Queen... who then never turned up again. This upper level now holds a museum, and a comprehensive one at that, full of pictures and documents and general ephemera. Some relate to the bunker itself, others to organisations like the Observer Corps which used to be based up above on site. I particularly liked the homemade chess set where a cartoon Hitler faced a cartoon Churchill across a map of northern Europe, with bombs for pawns on one side and radar towers on the other. But most of all I loved the reality of being somewhere very very important, beneath the ground, in the middle of suburbia.

If you'd like to experience this unique space, get yourself out to Uxbridge one weekend in the next two months. It's not yet certain whether regular access to the bunker will continue after that, but keep your fingers crossed that funding is available and The Curator approves.

» the Bunker's website
» Hillingdon invites you
» History of the bunker
» 21 photos from inside and out
» Virtual tour
» Ian's visited, and so's Pete

Late spring

2013-05-04T08:00:00.000+01:00

10H

2013-05-03T07:00:00.000+01:00

PICCADILLY: Ten

It's possible to travel through ten consecutive underground stations, all beginning with the same letter of the alphabet, without changing trains. But how?

You'd not think Hounslow East was anything special from platform level. A long open space on an embankment, peering down towards the town's bus station. A canopy that's longer on the eastbound than the westbound, because that's where the majority of commuters wait in the morning. And stairs... leading down beneath a honeycomb ceiling to, ooh, a very modern slanting ticket hall. The station building is only ten years old, so it's even got a lift (which is good for the outer suburbs). As for the bus station I mentioned earlier, that was built on the site of a former tube station called Hounslow Town (now deceased). Services hereabouts used to be terribly complicated, with trains running down twin reversing loops to Hounslow Town and back to Hounslow Central, at least until 1909 when Hounslow East was opened. Oh yes, there really are an awful lot of stations beginning with H around here.

It's not far on the modern Piccadilly to Hounslow Central, although when there are small children aboard it can feel like forever. Mum had led these three aboard a little earlier, one in a pushchair, two others considerably more mobile, each bribed to keep quiet with a packet of crisps. She appeared to be in the middle of a long phone call about nappies, but broke off occasionally to yell at the kids to sit down. But she didn't yell when one of them walked up to the door at Hounslow Central and casually threw his crisp packet down the gap between the train and the platform. I considered giving her a piece of my mind, but chose the passive aggressive option instead by moaning about her behaviour online afterwards.

This is the last chance to check your flight information. All Piccadilly line carriages contain notices advising you to check your correct terminal during the 23 minutes after Barons Court while the train is above ground. From Hounslow West onwards it dips below, and the message changes to audio. "Customers for Terminal 5 should change here..." Until 1975 this used to be the end of the line, and a flat fare bus was required for the short hop to Heathrow. Instead I'm sharing the carriage with five solo air passengers, with luggage varying from a small shoulder bag to a massive blue holdall, atop which the owner slouches legs astride.

A long run underground follows, apart from a sudden brief visit to the surface purely to pass above the River Crane. At Hatton Cross the "Customers for Terminal 5 should change here..." message plays again, because it's good to give tourists who don't speak English very well a second chance. There's no mention that it might be best to change here for Terminals 1, 2 and 3 as well. We're heading there eventually, but we're going the long way round the forthcoming loop and won't be there for almost twenty minutes. Plus Hatton Cross isn't a bad place to get off and wait. Admire if you will the central pillars on the platform, each tiled in bright orange and decorated with a dynamic triple Speedbird design reminiscent of BOAC.

Nobody has need to ride the next section of line unless they're flying from the airport or working there. It's three minutes out to Heathrow Terminal 4, which is a most peculiar underground outpost. It's the only station on the entire network with a one-way service. It's one of a tiny handful of stations which have only a single platform. It boasts a rather splendid minimalist '4' logo carved into the concrete on the platform walls. And "trains wait here for up to 8 minutes before continuing" (as mentioned on the on-board line map) which gives drivers the opportunity for a well-earned rest. The effect on arriving passengers is unfortunate, however. They see a train waiting ahead as they approach the ticket barriers, they rush and puff and hurl their luggage aboard, and then they sit there for up to 8 minutes as the train goes nowhere. Welcome to Britain, suckers.

The train has ridden to Heathrow Terminals 1 2 and 3 the long way, round the loop, so we arrive to a mass of suitcases at the far end of the platform. Almost everyone crams aboard the rear carriage, which soon resembles a cargo hold, whereas airport workers have the sense to wander down the train a bit. I watched three guys in hi-vis trousers slouch down separately and fall asleep, while two probably-stewardesses sat together for a polite gossip. The smell of engine oil hung heavy in the air, I thought, or perhaps that's a perfume they pump through the ventilation to remind you you're at an airport. All aboard for the slow-but-cheap non-express route into central London.

The loop is closed at Hatton Cross, second time around. Opposite me a German couple are studying a folded copy of the tube map, repeatedly pointing at station names and reading them out. They spot Oxford Circus and London Bridge, but it's "Errols Court" they keep returning to, and eventually that will be where they get off. At Hounslow West local people start to board again, diluting the airportiness of the assembled throng. London's rooftops reappear by Hounslow Central, plus a bowling green and a patch of allotments by Hounslow East. This urban landscape is the first sight millions of international visitors get of Britain, and always lifts my heart a little if I'm returning from abroad.

And that's ten consecutive stations beginning with the letter H. The next begins with O, so wrecks the pattern, but ten is a far better coincidence than any trivia hunter might possibly expect. Just trust me that it's possible to ride this way, don't waste your time proving it.

Piccadilly: Down the line

2013-05-02T07:00:00.000+01:00

PICCADILLY: Down the line

Another month, another tube line, another end-to-end journey. Except the Piccadilly allows an end-to-end and-back-again journey, for added value, if you ride around the Heathrow loop halfway though. So please join me on a trip from Cockfosters to the airport and back again (unless I get bored before that and get off early).

Cockfosters is a gorgeous station. Like so many on the Piccadilly it's one of Charles Holden's, with a street-level building that could be an elongated bus shelter, and a cavernous interior for terminating trains. The concrete canopy struts across the trainshed like a computer chip, straight and rigid, perfectly symmetrical. Technically there are four platforms, although 2 and 3 share the same tracks up as far as the pot plants and only the doors on 2 open. There's even a special waiting area with wooden benches just past the ticket barriers, where I hovered to await the correct train. Most don't pause because they don't care about the ultimate destination, they're not going anywhere past Acton. But I needed the train to Heathrow Terminal 4, a numerical secret divulged only by the automated announcement and not by the display, so I hung back. I reached my seat aboard the train just as the cleaner nipped off sharpish before the doors closed. Three hours would elapse before I could be right back here again.

The trees on the approach to Oakwood look like silver birches and pines, not oaks, although maybe these once grew alongside where the train depot once stands. Another characterful station this, with white concrete features midway and barbell-style lamps at the end of the platform. There appear to be rather a lot of contours ahead, first a cutting, then a viaduct between suburban rooftops, then plunging deep into tunnel. That makes Southgate the first of the Piccadilly's underground stations, with high ceilings above the platforms, and cream tiles we'll see much more of down the line. It's also where my carriage becomes rather full, because the doors have lined up perfectly with the entrance to the platform, and people don't like walking any further down, do they?

Straight back out into daylight, and swiftly above chimney level for the elevated curve through Arnos Park. It's impossible to see the arched viaduct up here, but our train is unmissable to anyone kicking a football or picnicking down below. Arnos Grove is famously architecturally magnificent, although there are only hints of this in the modern design of the platform canopy and slatted benches. There's just time to spot the North Circular beyond (actually don't bother) before the train submerges again for almost an hour. Bounds Green is the first of several consecutive cream-tiled stations, this with solid orange borders while Wood Green has dashed borders in a gentle shade of peppermint.

All the seats have now been taken, as central London draws outer residents into its clutches. At Turnpike Lane they board clutching generic coffee, whereas later it'll be Costa and paper-wrapped cookies. At Manor House bodies squeeze into the gaps where the luggage goes, which is OK because there's no luggage yet. If you know the illustrated map that Piccadilly line trains have posted by the door, we've just crept onto that. The first significant exodus of passengers comes at Finsbury Park where the Victoria line does what it was built for and siphons off the traffic. This is also the point where we switch from the 1930s extension to the original 1900s section of line, so prepare for change.

Arsenal is the first of the Leslie Green stations, which means subtly polychromatic tiling patterns and the original name, Gillespie Road, laid out in purply hues. Check out Doug Rose's website if you'd like detailed background information on these Edwardian treasures, or come along and worship in person. The patterns at Holloway Road are subtly different, and browner, while Caledonian Road edges more towards mauve. Watch out too for the giant red roundel at the front end of the southbound platform, it's a century old, and nobody's ever been stupid enough to replace it.

From here to King's Cross St Pancras is a long run, which means unfamiliar travellers head for the door three minutes early and stand there like lemons. Here passengers duly pour aboard, as do the hotel crowd at Russell Square. Even at weekends this section feels like the rush hour, with passengers dutifully standing and shuffling awkwardly close. If anything Holborn is worse, but I'm sitting smugly having boarded ten miles back. The track curves noticeably as we head round to Covent Garden, because this is the line's fulcrum where north-south turns to east-west. "This station is busy at weekends", warns the notice on the tube map, but nobody either notices or cares, so off they plod to queue for the lifts.

It's barely worth the driver accelerating on the brief jaunt to Leicester Square, this (as you surely know) the shortest inter-station journey on the underground. Gradually those aboard are becoming more cosmopolitan, one woman flicking through the Tate's Lichtenstein catalogue, another three discussing honeymoon etiquette. Then at Piccadilly Circus the first suitcase appears, already tagged with a LGW label, but heading inexorably for LHR. I'd say an older demographic disembark at Green Park, or perhaps a little more moneyed, what with Mayfair on the doorstep. And by Hyde Park Corner almost nobody I rode in with from Haringey remains on board.

Knightsbridge has silvery-panelled platforms, reflecting the incoming bling above rather than the area's earlier heritage. But only at South Kensington does the carriage finally empty enough to offer seats for all, such is the draw of the museums at weekends. The last beautifully tiled station is Gloucester Road, again with ceramic Way Out and No Exit motifs inside ticket window-style borders. There are now four suitcases in my carriage - some petite, some bulging, one with hand luggage resting precariously on top. And brace yourself, because after Earl's Court we're firing back into daylight.

If you're not familiar, Barons Court is the best place to change between the District and Piccadilly lines if you're lugging luggage, the platforms being narrower here than at Hammersmith up the line (plus there are much nicer benches to sit on). It's also good to swap lines before the Piccadilly goes express. The railway has four tracks on the viaduct to Chiswick, allowing the blue train to nip down the middle and skip a few stations. We reach Acton Town about an hour after leaving Cockfosters... that's 'we' as in the driver and me, I doubt anybody else has lingered.

Stuff Uxbridge, we're taking the long run out of town to the airport. The train's now once again between suburban back gardens, even the odd set of allotments. South Ealing and Northfields are ridiculously close together, so lucky you if you live nearby. Some trains exit the system here to rise up a ramp to the depot alongside. Then comes Boston Manor, which is the first station with a semi-rural feel, so long as you ignore the M4 carving through the neighbouring park on concrete stilts. A golf course, a canal and a cricket club line the long ride to Osterley, another very open station. And that's where I'll pause, if you don't mind, for important narrative reasons. Sorry, the Piccadilly line goes on, and on, and on.

Last trains

2013-05-01T07:00:00.000+01:00

WEST END APPEAL FOR 24 HOUR TUBE screamed the headline in yesterday's Evening Standard. Their front page article referred to a report published by the West End Commission, a 12-strong thinktank set up to investigate how best to support the future of the West End. The Standard duly voxpopped a handful of Londoners to ask them what they thought of all-night tubes, and not surprisingly they approved. "Not doing this would be silly," said one. Meanwhile the paper's editorial led with the plea 'Our city needs its tube to run all night'.

Unfortunately, if you bothered to read it, that's not what the report said. The report said the tube should run an hour later on Fridays and Saturdays, and that Crossrail and Thameslink should consider later running too. The report briefly suggested that certain tube lines be extended to run "post 3am to meet the night club exodus", but a 24 hour tube was never mentioned. It's a lovely-sounding idea, except that century-old lines require overnight maintenance, and there isn't the funding, and most of the extra trains would run nigh empty anyway.

London has a fantastic nightbus service which snakes to all corners of the capital. But apparently some people don't feel safe on buses, or can't abide how long they take, so end up taking taxis instead. We'd all rather get home quickly and cheaply after a late night out, obviously, but perhaps it's a little selfish to expect TfL to run an all-night tube service especially for clubbers and casino employees. And surely the problem isn't solely restricted to the underground? Across much of south London the issue isn't the tube, it's the other rail services, many of which stop running rather earlier.

So I thought I'd investigate "last trains from the West End". I've used TfL's Journey Planner to identify the time of the last train home from the West End this Friday evening. I've assumed that all journeys begin within a triangle bounded by Oxford Circus, Tottenham Court Road and Embankment. I've routed via rail journeys only, no nightbuses. And I've been fairly subjective in my choice of destinations, most inside London but some a little further out. Apologies if I've missed any later services.

NW 23.56 Amersham 00.07 Denham 00.31 Harrow 00.33 Uxbridge 00.33 Stanmore 00.35 St Albans 00.41 Watford	N 23.45 Cheshunt 23.59 Enfield 00.17 Elstree 00.34 Barnet 00.35 Cockfosters 00.39 Potters Bar 00.41 Edgware	NE 23.54 Dalston 00.31 Epping 00.31 Stratford 00.31 Ilford 00.31 Shenfield 00.39 Chingford 00.39 Walthamstow
W 23.43 Shepperton 23.46 Staines 00.11 Slough 00.32 Heathrow 00.33 Ealing	Last train from the West End Oxford Circus, Piccadilly Circus, Tottenham Court Road, Leicester Square, Charing Cross or Embankment	E 23.47 Beckton 23.54 Wapping 00.00 Grays 00.40 Barking 00.40 Upminster
SW 23.39 Leatherhead 23.58 Weybridge 00.02 Ewell 00.04 Epsom 00.04 Sutton 00.06 Twickenham 00.15 Surbiton 00.30 Kingston 00.30 Richmond 00.35 Wimbledon	S 23.59 Caterham 00.04 Wandsworth 00.15 Peckham 00.20 Crystal Palace 00.22 Herne Hill 00.30 Brixton 00.30 Streatham 00.35 Morden 00.35 Purley 00.40 Croydon	SE 23.52 Catford 23.52 Hayes 00.02 Bexleyheath 00.10 Sidcup 00.15 Sevenoaks 00.18 Greenwich 00.18 Dartford 00.18 Erith 00.22 Bromley 00.48 Orpington

Does London really have a late night travel problem when these are the times of the last trains home from the West End? Or would an extra hour's drinking-up time really make a huge difference to the lifeblood of our capital?

London Loop 1

2013-04-30T01:00:00.000+01:00

WALK LONDON
The London Loop [section 1]
Erith to Old Bexley (9½ miles)

I'm now halfway through my decade-long circumnavigation round the London Loop. I've been attacking its sections intermittently, in a semi-random order, so I thought now was a good time to head to the beginning and tackle section number one. It's one of the longer stretches, nearly ten miles in total. It follows the far eastern edge of South London. And it's very rivery, tracing first the Thames, then the Darent, then the Cray. A cracking start.

Wandering down to the estuary from Erith station, you might be fooled into thinking the whole area is like Riverside Gardens. Not so. This is a one-off patch of cultivated green, where the inaugural London Loop signpost points the way. Most of the rest of Erith's waterfront is dully residential or maritime, much like Dartford but without the splash of history. Whenever I'm here I like to stroll out down Erith Causeway, a wooden jetty poking out into the middle of the Thames across an expanse of tidal mud. That's the London Loop's final section passing by on the opposite bank, so close, yet technically 150 miles distant. This first mile heads out of town past some especially grim industrial units. Important though scrap dealers and haulage centres are to our national economy, they're really not the ideal environment for a weekend stroll. And steel yourself for inconsistent apostrophe abuse, notably at Transit Breakers where they want FRIDGE'S & BIKES CASH PAID.

And then a path turns off towards the yacht club, no really. Take this route and you're committing yourself to at least a two and a half mile walk, with rivers blocking every other escape route. The marshes open out ahead, with horses grazing to one side, and plenty of space to exercise your dog or motorbike. Watch for the sailing boats on the Thames, or the ships transporting containers of landfill to Coldharbour. The radar tower ahead marks Crayford Ness, a sharp bend in the estuary, and beyond that is the mouth of the Darent. This tributary of the Thames is kept in check by a tidal barrier a few hundred yards upstream, not that walkers or cyclists can get across, it's a lengthy detour for them. Tucked into this marshy dead end is an industrial estate nobody has to live next to, blessed with breakers yards, van depots and crushers. But try to ignore that and the view east is much better... assuming you like power stations and suspended motorway bridges.

I loved the feeling of space. You don't normally get so much sky in London, and this is still London, right up as far as a line bisecting the river channel. This early in the year the vegetation is still light, with only a few budding trees to break the flat green of the marshes. Things look very different too according to whether the tide's in or out - I got out, making the Darent a deep brown hollow edged by mud. And all so very quiet, apart from the distant roar of motocross bikes jumping off unseen mounds across the river. Eventually another tributary feeds in, this the Cray, and from its mouth we follow the waymarked Cray Riverway footpath for the rest of Loop 1. A final patch of reeds blesses the waterside, dampened somewhat by the accompanying swarm of midges. And then a perhaps not unexpected shock approaching Crayford... striding straight back into an enclave of can crushers and scrap merchants round the back of the railway viaduct.

The nicest part of the entire walk follows beyond the main road and the Jolly Farmers pub. The River Cray has suddenly transformed from a tidal channel to a wooded stream (although in reality it's the other way round - we're walking backwards). On Sunday a team of volunteers from Thames 21 had turned up to try to keep the river in pristine condition. They waded into the water to retrieve cans of lager, they wandered up the towpath wearing fully protective rubber gloves, and they rowed out aboard the Lady Cray to remove fly tipping from the rushes. A round of applause please for their dedication. Further up in Barnes Cray the path switches to the northern bank and isn't quite so lovely, sandwiched between back gardens and a trading estate. But the Cray isn't always this accessible, so best make the most of proximity while you can.

Waterside Gardens is a relatively new public space off Crayford High Street, making the most of the river's progress with landscaped lawns and spiky artworks. Swing gates keep local hounds at bay, making this an ideal place to rest (or even nap) before continuing with the shopping. A roadside yomp follows, dodging the traffic pouring out of the mega-Sainsburys, before turning off back to the river at Bourne Hall Recreation Ground. These fields ring to the sounds of junior league football at weekends, which appears to mean bullet-headed dads bawling encouragement from the touchlines, and the local ambulance service turning up to rescue a fractured leg. Head to the water's edge and you might find the second team's substitutes passing the time by digging out chunks of mud with sticks, and dogs splashing through the shallows while their owners look on with unabashed pride.

The Loop turns right across the footbridge, but don't do that immediately, head straight on towards Hall Place. This Tudor house and gardens is Bexley's pride and joy, and if you've never been, perhaps you should. The greenhouse by the entrance is full of flowering plants and occasionally owls, while the cafe in the new visitor centre serves up popular-looking tea and lunch. There are ducks to feed and blossoms to picnic beneath, plus a marvellous line of topiary sculpted to form ten of The Queen's Beasts. I still can't tell the griffin from the unicorn, nor the dragon from a yale. But the high spot is the house itself, with fine minstrels gallery and a local museum upstairs. I was hoping to nose around except the entrance fee appears to have leapt from zero to seven pounds since I was last here two years ago, and the current temporary exhibition wasn't quite enough to lure me in.

Back to that footbridge, and the Loop follows an unexpected zigzag round the back of Hall Place Gardens. A lonely path tracks alongside the railway, up and over the hard shoulder of the A2, back down along the railway again, and then in cutting beside the dual carriageway. There is a purpose, which is to direct the walker through the long thin wedge of Churchfield Wood. I had the entire woodland to myself for a full half mile, and grinned to find the first bluebells of 2013's late spring flowering on the banks throughout. A proper treat. The path emerges near St Mary's church, Old Bexley, with its historic octagonal shingled spire, and where a brief diversion through the cemetery nature reserve is recommended.

In the village centre I spotted a sign stuck to the door of the local barbers announcing that they were closing down for good at two o'clock. I read the handwritten message in which Penny and Anita offered their heartfelt thanks for years of customer support, while one of them sat alone on a chair in the nigh-empty shop, staring out of the window as the final five minutes ticked by. There wasn't much else doing on a Sunday afternoon in Old Bexley, except for nipping round Costcutter or waiting for the B12 to Joydens Wood. Loop section 2 beckoned invitingly up the side of the Railway Tavern, promising yet more Cray-side walking, but best save that for later.

» London Loop section 1: official map and directions; map
» Who else has walked it? Stephen, Oatsy, Tim, Mark, Paul, Paul, Tetramesh, Richard
» See also sections 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 12, 15, 17, 20, 23, 24
» Six photos: Erith, Thames, Darent, Cray, Hall Place

Joydens Wood

2013-04-29T00:12:00.000+01:00

Route B12: Erith - Joydens Wood
Location: London southeast
Length of journey: 8 miles, 50 minutes

London has some pretty obscure bus routes... unless they're your local bus route, in which case they're pretty important. For the folk of Joydens Wood, an estate on the southeastern outskirts of the capital, the B12 is their link to Bexley's high life. Just one catch, it only runs Monday to Saturday. Several bus routes around the edges of London do this - there's no demand on Sundays so the buses would merely be transporting air at unnecessary cost. The people of Joydens Wood said they'd be different, that they'd use their Sunday bus honest, but the funding just wasn't there.

And then suddenly last month TfL ran one of their consultations to determine whether or not the B12 should gain a Sunday service. More than 100 stakeholders responded, nigh all of them positively, as well you might expect. Oh go on then, said TfL, we'll give the full daily service a go. Normally these consultations take months or even years to come to fruition, but unusually the B12's renaissance took less than a fortnight. The first on-Sunday B12s rode round Joydens Wood yesterday, every half an hour no less, and the residents duly turned out to climb aboard. And so did I, not because I'm a sad bus geek or anything, but because it struck me I knew bugger all about Joydens Wood. And you probably don't either... so come along for the ride.

The most important thing you need to know about Joydens Wood is that it's in Kent. Only just in Kent, by a few hundred metres, but very definitely under the auspices of Dartford Borough Council. There are no especially old buildings here. The estate grew across farmland in the first part of last century, and has been topped up and infilled a few times since. A few thousand live here - in bungalows, in 60s townhouses, in nice semis, up detached avenues, inside gated villas, whatever. The property mix is quite varied, but generally on the more aspirational side. They have lovely gardens, indeed the magnolias at the moment are magnificent. But despite all the cars parked out the front of everywhere, there are still just enough residents you can imagine might still need a bus service.

The B12 enters Joydens Wood past Coldblow, which is just in London. The driver stops at St Mary's Road to wind the destination round to "Erith", then continues along a two and a bit mile loop around the edge of the village. The route is peculiar, possibly even unique, in that buses run one-way clockwise in the morning, then flip to run the other way anticlockwise after noon. That means Joydens Wood has two sets of bus stops, one labelled "AM journeys" and the other, on the opposite side of the road, "PM only". I have no idea why this split should be deemed necessary, but if you look in the comments box some clever soul will no doubt be able to explain. Please check your watch before you travel.

The bus I rode into Joydens Wood ran anti-clockwise. It wasn't especially busy, although the previous bus I'd just missed had been. We skipped past most of the stops, until at last I thought someone was flagging us down, except it turned out she was merely trimming her hedge. There was a lot of front garden action all the way round, including the digging out of dead daffodils and the hoovering of cars. I was pleased when another passenger did finally board, because it meant the driver wouldn't be lonely on the journey back. And then I nipped off to explore the village properly.

It's not easy to find a shop open in Joydens Wood on a Sunday. Denny's Sandwich Bar was firmly closed, as were the Indian restaurant and the petrol station up the hill. I had more luck at the Post Office, where the newsagent was mopping the floor ready to close up but hadn't quite. The needs of stay-at-home souls were served by the chiming van of Rossi's Spiderman Ices, although I didn't see anybody come out to meet it, perhaps because Nico's Ices had got their custom earlier. But my favourite shop in the locality was a business on Old Bexley Lane which went by the fantastic name of Modern Screws. Alas, its shutters were firmly down.

The best thing to do in Joydens Wood on a Sunday, indeed possibly on any day of the week, is to go for a walk round the ancient woodland on the hill. It's called Joydens Wood, obviously, and its 300 acres are now under the management of the Woodland Trust. Conifers and broadleaf trees intermingle, the former a post-war intrusion, but the many tracks and paths make for a lovely place to stroll. There's a lot of up and down, and plenty of flowering spring ground cover, and even a 1km-long Saxon ditch called the Faesten Dic. This was built to keep Roman Londoners out of Saxon Kent, and is still very much intact, even today. Follow the red posts to track the Faesten Dic, or the blue posts for a general woodland walk. Indeed, head far enough in and the other side of Joydens Wood is actually in London. Just good luck finding your way out - it took me ages to find a gap in the back gardens that would allow me to escape back to the bus route.

The B12 that took me away was late, but it was also popular. There were about ten of us on board by the time we'd looped back to Coldblow, with the bus providing a most useful means of escape for local youth. They all alighted in Bexleyheath, where another tranche of jabbering youngsters boarded, because it's not just Joydens Wood benefiting from the B12's extended hours. I may have been the only passenger aboard by the time we reached Erith, but TfL's confidence in the new Sunday service seems well placed. Let Joy abound.

[B12] map, timetable, consultation outcome
[B12] The Ladies Who Bus
[B12] Paul explains the history behind the B12's previous lack of Sunday running
[B12] Paul's slightly obsessive photos from yesterday #B12onSunday

Peninsula waterside

2013-04-28T07:00:00.000+01:00

As bleak urban safaris go, few come better than the western edge of the Greenwich peninsula. The wealth of Docklands rises from the other side of the Thames, but there's none of that along here. Not yet. The developers are moving in, and have already demolished almost every trace of the area's industrial past. But for now there's just a riverside footpath of questionable quality underfoot, and hundreds of razed acres ripe for rebirth. Get here soon before someone builds apartment towers everywhere.

Drawdock Road's not easy to find, not unless you've already walked the best part of a mile round the top of the peninsula. Nobody really wants you to walk this way from the bus station, they'd much rather you headed Dome-ward and splurged on entertainment. A redundant road heads west from Millennium Way, its pavements fenced off from the development opportunity behind. At the T-junction turn right above the deep bore of the Blackwall Tunnel, curving past a mushroom-shaped ventilation shaft cover (number 4, if you're counting). And here's where Drawdock Road ramps down into the Thames, should you be stupid enough to drive that far. A "Road Closed" warning sign has appeared - that's new-ish, as is the raised hump presumably added to prevent flooding during especially high tides. The second there's the chance of people paying good money to actually live here, in goes the protection.

To the north the last remains of 2000's outbuildings are being bulldozed. The Living Wall had a good innings, even though most of that time its plant life was dead. Now a hotel is to be added here on the meridian, although I've been reporting the imminent arrival of this hotel for years and nothing's yet happened. Ditto Peninsula Quays. That's the posh name for the wasteland you've just walked through, aka 20 acres of prime residential opportunity. Planning permission is about to be sought and, according to the latest schedule, construction should begin next year.

Peninsula Quays will be a "mixed-use urban village", which is developer-speak for "lots of people living very close together". There'll be 1683 dwellings, so we're told, of which precisely 0% are scheduled to be affordable housing. That's because Docklands is only one stop away on the tube, so this area has been pencilled in as "convenient for affluent Canary Wharf or City workers". Architects drawings show a series of looming crystalline apartment blocks rising from anodyne turf to glass-topped penthouses... and that's just the first phase. Staring through the fence at levelled rubble, it's hard to match the vision to current reality.

A broad path now snakes around the first few riverside corners, with two-way cycle lanes and a separate pedestrian section alongside. It doesn't last. Once past the PQ development the path peters out to become a loose uneven track, much as it has been for years, and all the more characterful for it. The land ahead isn't part of the main peninsula masterplan, and remains home to a messy business that new wealthy residents may not appreciate. Proper ships moor up at the quayside to unload powdery aggregate materials, and these are then scooped up and piled within for processing. The Thames Path still runs straight through the unloading zone, between the moorings and the aggregate works, even though you'd assume health and safety (or security) would have had this open stretch closed down long ago.

If nothing else, it doesn't smell quite so foul round here now most of the former industries have been wiped away. But what used to be an atmospheric continuation past wharves and silos has lost a lot of its bleak character and is now merely bleak. Some local yarnbombers have attempted to brighten things up by dressing a couple of tree trunks with stripy coats - we thank them for that. Concentrate on the waterfowl in the Thames and a handful of budding trees and you can almost make this into a nature walk. But only one of the jetties retains public access - the others are padlocked off - and of those buildings that remain almost all their windows are smashed.

You wouldn't come to the beach at Enderby's Wharf to paddle, not when the foreshore's littered with chunky rusting pipes and shopping trolleys. Greenwich Council were, maybe even are, planning a cruise liner terminal here, but the rusting hulks currently anchored offshore make a mockery of that lofty ambition. They don't make a fine view for the residents of Lovell's Wharf either. This residential development off Banning Street has been 10% complete for years, with thoughtless planning forcing the Thames Path to divert inland. Now the path has reopened, but only with the prospect of more flats being crammed into the site than previously designated. The current lot look grim enough, but one day most of the river's edge from the O₂ down to Pelton Road will look the same. Come enjoy the riverside urban safari while you can.