Nelson Mandela House

It was recently announced that Harlech Tower on the South Acton Estate is to be demolished to make way for a new development of mixed and private housing. Not unusual perhaps but this story has a bit of a twist. Since 1981 Harlech Tower has had a, not exactly secret, alter ego. For the popular TV series Only Fools and Horses it became Nelson Mandela House.

I don't know if Harlech Tower and, presumably, the rest of the estate really needs to be demolished to make way for new housing. I have no idea whether it is economically viable, or even necessary, to bring it up to 21st century standards, whatever that may mean, but it seems that local opinion is mixed. Some look forward to the newer housing but others think that the Tower should be preserved. Some are even suggesting that it should be listed. I have a problem with that.

The decision to list a building is complex, if you have several hours to spare  take a look here. Basically, it should be of architectural, cultural, aesthetic or historic importance. Although other opinions are valid, I believe that a tower block in Acton, pretending to be a tower block in Peckham doesn't qualify, even if it is associated with a program as popular as Only Fools and Horses.

Harlech Tower was originally chosen because of its location which was close to both the North Acton rehearsal rooms and BBC Television Centre. It was used for the exterior shots only, the interiors were recorded at the Television Centre

Eventually, and perhaps inevitably, the popularity of the series made filming in Acton difficult, so the exteriors of the last two series were filmed at Whitemead House in Bristol. As far as I know, no one has suggested listing that one..... yet.

An Identified Floating Object

I noticed today that the former sorting office next to Paddington Station, has been reduced to a pile of rubble and a few sections of steel framework. It will be replaced by a 14 story office block perched on 12 metre columns and a large central podium. The podium itself will house eateries, retail units and a new entrance to the Bakerloo line. 

The Royal Mail sorting office was built by Sir Henry Tanner in 1892, in 1907 it was extended by Jasper Wager. From 1927 to 2003 it was also the western terminus of the Post Office Railway. Although it had been disused for many years the Victorian Society considered it important enough to protest its demolition claiming “The proposals entail the complete loss of the existing handsome building and would cause substantial harm to the setting of nearby listed buildings and the conservation area". They also agreed with Historic England's statement that "whatever its detailing, a building of this scale will have a seriously detrimental impact on the character and heritage assets of this part of London".

The architect of the new building is the, love him or hate him, Renzo Piano the man who gave us the Shard and the multi coloured Central St Giles development. He has said of this building "when you exit the station you will see a clear floating cube levitating above the ground". If you close one eye and squint heavily with the other perhaps!

The original plan for this site was announced in December 2015. The proposed building, also by Mr Piano, was a 254 metre, 72 story, cylindrical skyscraper. Nicknamed the Paddington Pole, it was condemned by Sir Terry Farrell as "opportunistic and piecemeal" Unsurprisingly locals protested about its effect on the area and the Skyline Campaign fought against its impact on London's horizon.

Further protests from locals, SAVE Britains Heritage and Historic England among others, led to a withdrawal of the planning application in February 2016.

By July of the same year the plan for the new building was in place and despite continuing controversy, Westminster Council gave its approval in December. The decision made simpler perhaps by an offer from the developers to build, and pay for, a new ambulance access road to St Mary's hospital.

But it didn't end there. Following constant campaigning the then UK Communities Secretary, Sajid Javid, issued an Article 31 direction, preventing Westminster City Council from granting formal planning permission for the project. Ultimately, of course, that was overturned which brings us to where we are now.

So, like it or not, there will soon be a shiny glass cube hovering alongside Paddington Station. At least it won't be casting a giant shadow, like some kind of humongous gnomon, across West London.

The Painted Hall Project

The Painted Hall of the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich has what is considered one of most impressive and important baroque interiors in Europe. Originally built at the instigation of Queen Mary II, it formed part of the Royal Hospital for Seamen which was intended to offer care to sailors invalided out of the navy.The Hospital was designed by Sir Christopher Wren and Nicholas Hawksmoor, and was built on the site of the Palace of Placentia, more often known as Greenwich Palace, which had been the birthplace of Henry VIII and his daughters, Mary I and Elizabeth I.

The Painted Hall itself was originally intended to be the dining hall for the inhabitants but from the start it was felt to be too grand by the pensioners themselves, who preferred to eat in more humble surroundings. It very quickly became a space for ceremonial occasions and other special functions but was also an early "tourist" attraction, open to paying visitors! In 1806, the lying in state of Admiral Lord Nelson took place in the Painted Hall, following his death at the battle of Trafalgar. Huge crowds queued to view the body over a three day period before he was taken to his State funeral and internment in St Paul's Cathedral.

The decoration of the Hall was carried out by James Thornhill between 1707 and 1726. For this the agreed payment was £3/square yard for the ceiling and £1.00/square yard for the walls. However, when it came to actual payment, there were the inevitable delays and disagreements with those holding the purse strings! Eventually, Thornhill received a total payment of £6,685.00. This was a princely sum in the early 18th Century but when looked at a little more deeply does seem a tad miserly. This was a 19 year project, during which he had provide his own materials and the scaffolding. Plus, as this was not a single handed operation, he had pay the team of assistants required to get the job done.

On the plus side, a prestigious commission like this also led to work from other sources.  During the period that he was working in the Painted Hall he also carried out a number of other important projects including a number of walls and ceilings at Chatsworth House, the grisaille  panels inside the  dome of St Paul's Cathedral and the ceiling of the New Council Chamber of the Guildhall in the City of London!

Also within the same period he opened a school of drawing (twice) where one of his pupils was William Hogarth who also later became Thornhill's son in law.

Oh yes, he was also a fine portrait painter and the Member of Parliament for Melcombe Regis in Dorset. This man was a seriously good at multitasking!

The painted ceiling is a massive and important work. It emphasises Britain's naval power and international trading success but also reflects the political, social and scientific achievements of the age. It is an incredible cocktail of around 200 contemporary, historical and allegorical figures, musical and scientific instruments, warships and weapons, and a pretty hefty chunk of the animal kingdom!

One of the problems with working on a project of this length was that things change. Thornhill had to keep on top of the shifts in political power and social values and, of course, changes in the monarchy. He was clearly a man who  knew which side his bread was buttered, so he frequently modified his design as the years went on. Britain went through a series of royal changes over the 19 years. Starting with the joint monarchs William III and Mary II, followed by Queen Anne and finally George I. He made sure that they were all well presented in a respectful and flattering manor, unlike Louis XIV who is shown being trampled under King William's foot!

This political tiptoeing paid off when, on 2nd May 1720, he was knighted by King George I, the first British artist to receive such an honour.

I have to be honest here, and admit that I didn't know anything about James Thornhill before I started researching this article. Why is his name not mentioned in the same breath as Constable or Turner? Perhaps it is because the majority of his great works grace walls and ceilings rather than canvas but, whatever the reason, he deserves more recognition.

The Painted Hall is currently part way through a major project. The emphasis is on cleaning and conservation, rather than restoration. The plaster is in remarkably good condition, with very few cracks, all of which seem to be minor and easily stabilised. The painting itself is also in very good shape, the real problem being the various layers of varnish that have been applied over the years. Darkened and crazed in some areas. As much as is possible, it will be cleaned and treated sympathetically, without disturbing the actual painted surface.

Until September 2017, you have the once in a lifetime opportunity to get up close and personal with the ceiling of the lower hall. Measuring 15 by 30 metres, it towers over 18 metres above floor level. The extraordinary scaffolding (around 7 miles of tubing and weighing roughly the same as the Space Shuttle........apparently!) enables you to get within touching distance of this amazing art work. To be honest, the majority of the detail and 18th century symbolism would be beyond the comprehension to most of us in the 21st century but, fortunately, the wonderful guides are there to help you through this visual minefield. Plus you get to wear a hi viz waistcoat and a hard hat. What more could you want?

It is a fascinating and beautiful piece of British history and all of the money raised through ticket sales goes into the conservation fund, so you also get that warm feeling , knowing that you have done your bit towards preserving this treasure for future generations to enjoy.

Check out Janeslondon's post on the Ceiling Tour here, it also includes a good tip of where to eat if you are visiting Greenwich!

More photographs in my Flickr album here.

The Repentant Magdalene

Yesterday I went to see the Repentant Magdalene at the National Gallery. What a lovely thing it is!

Commissioned by Emperor Leopold 1, it was painted , in Vienna, by Guido Cagnacci sometime in the early 1660's. For a picture from the Baroque period, it is remarkably unfussy. Many artists at that time seem to have been intent on cramming as much into their paintings as possible, either because that was desired by their clients (who were prepared to pay handsomely for a suitably showy result), or because they simply wanted to show just how clever they really were. This is not at all like that, it is a large canvas, around 104x90 inches with an elegant setting and lots of space. It shows Mary Magdelane renouncing her sinful ways and converting to Christianity. The really stunning thing, from my heathen point of view, is the depiction of the heroine (or villainess, depending on how you chose to read her character). While the characters around her seem to fit the Baroque idea of what a biblical figure should look like, Mary herself could have just stepped out of a 21st century fashion shoot or an ad for Chanel perfume!

No pictures from me, I'm afraid. Although the National Gallery freely allows non commercial photography of its (our!) own collection, but, as in this case, it often does not apply to artworks on loan from other collections. This painting is on loan from the Norton Simon Foundation in Pasadena and is being shown in the UK for the first time in over 30 years and we have to thank them for that.

This is a beautiful painting, way beyond my descriptive abilities. Go and see it yourself. It is on display until the 21st May.

The Veronica Scanner

Two weeks ago I had a 3D scan of my head made at the Royal Academy as part of the Veronica Scanner project. An interesting, if very short, experience, the scan itself taking just a matter of seconds.

Why did I do this? A very good question! I'm not a natural photographic subject, I don't mind spontaneous photographs but ask me to pose for a shot and I don't know what to do. I usually end up looking puzzled or gurning like a man in leave of his senses (some who know me may well think that description not too far off of the mark!)

I suppose it was partly just to try something different and to be part of an art project but it was also, perhaps, to see myself as others see me. We are used to seeing ourselves in a hard copy photograph or on a phone or a computer screen, but whether it's a still shot or a video, it is remains a slightly flat image. 3D promised something different. So why not give it a go.

So, what happened on the day? I turned up ahead of my booked time slot and took a quick look around before checking in at the desk.

There were a number of examples of printed heads on display, in a variety of materials. Of particular interest were a small series loosely based on the wonderful character heads created by Franz Xaver Messerschmidt in the late 18th century. Examples of his work are held in the collections of the V&A and the Wellcome.

The scanner itself sat in the middle of the room in a large perspex box. It looked like a giant, perforated, desk globe, split vertically with the two halves separated by a couple of feet and in the centre was a saddle-like seat.

After signing the waivers, which would allow the resulting images to be used as part of the project, and a very short wait, it was my turn to be scanned. The first choice I had to make was whether or not to wear my glasses. Apparently, most people have chosen to remove them. That didn't seem to make sense to me. Specs have been part of me for the last 50 plus years and relatively few people would remember me without them, so to keep them on was a no brainer.

The procedure was explained and I soon found myself perched on the saddle as the two halves of the sphere closed in on me. The saddle was raised by the operator to centre me in the scanner and we were good to go.

The sphere has 96 apertures and is lined with a number of low powered flash units. Eight Canon EOS 5D cameras are arranged in an arc on an exterior arm that resembles the support on a conventional globe. The cameras are timed to shoot as they pass the holes in the globe. The for those who care about these things, the overlapping pictures are saved as 24 megapixel RAW files.

Some other sitters chose to be quite creative with their poses but I decided on what I thought was a fairly neutral expression, not that I'm a great judge of these things (see my earlier comments). The operator asked me if I was ready and, after a reminder to remain still during the scan, she hit the button. It apparently takes four seconds to complete the scan, but at the time it seemed much quicker. I was aware of the arm swinging around the outside of the sphere and the flashes firing in sequence and then, it was all over. The cameras had taken their 96 shots and it was now down to the computers to make sense of it all.

After a short wait to be sure that the 96 individual shots had been recorded, it was time to leave.

Now, two weeks later, those 96 individual photographs have been processed to produce this! It may take a little while for this to load (especially on a tablet, a friend and I have had problems on different Samsung Tabs, desktops and laptops seem OK) , but please be patient because, as the advert says, I'm worth it LOL.

I have to admit that I'm pleasantly surprised with the result. There were no guarantees that the scan would be successful and I was fairly convinced that something would go wrong, perhaps I had moved during the scan, or there would be a software glitch, but no, it has turned out OK.

So, what now? I have a digital file that I can send to a 3D printer to have my head recreated in a variety of materials from plastic to glass or even in chocolate. It is also possible to connect to a specialised routing machine to reproduce me in wood (a wooden head? Too close to the truth I think!). There is even the option to print in wax and then produce a bronze Me using the lost wax process! I'm not yet sure if any of these are going to happen for two main reasons. One, I suspect it is going to cost considerably more than a head, an arm and a leg to do it and, Two, I'm not sure that I want to be stared at, in my own home, by another version of me. Might check it out though. Just in case!

The guys below are not me!

In the nine days of the RA event more than 600 heads were scanned. The results of all of these scans can be seen here, along with more information on the project.

I'm not sure that I've learned any more about myself from this but it was an interesting experience with a surprisingly acceptable result.

That's it!

Moving On.

This time last week, I was getting up at stupid o'clock, going to a place where I didn't particularly want to be and doing things I didn't really want to do.

It was known as work!

Today, I got up when I felt like it. I mooched about for a bit, then I came here, doing not very much apart from sitting in the sun, drinking decent coffee, watching the World (or at least a very small part of it) passing by and listening to the birds sing their hearts out.

I can now do this whenever I like (weather permitting!)

This is known as retirement.

Highly recommended.

By the way, "here" is Holland Park, without any doubt, the best park in London and don't let anyone tell you any different. I have been coming here all of my life, from a baby in a pram to the grey haired, near OAP that I am now

The Royal River Salute

On the 9th September, Queen Elizabeth became our longest reigning monarch, bumping her great-great-grandmother, Queen Victoria, off of the top spot. To mark the occasion  there was to be a flotilla of boats led by the Royal barge Gloriana. It was hoped that a rolling wave of cheers and applause would follow the flotilla on it's journey from Tower Bridge (which would open for the occasion) to the Palace of Westminster

If you didn't go, you really didn't miss anything. The whole thing was staggeringly underwhelming. I decided to watch from the Albert Embankment opposite the H of P. Actually, not so much a decision as a necessity, as it was the only point I had a chance to get to, given that I had left it so late to leave home.

 

I got there just as The Gloriana cleared Westminster Bridge. It was followed by the Havengore, two fire boats, one of which, the Massey Shaw, was a Dunkirk Little Ship. There were also a couple of Police boats and a Thames cruise boat.

 

 

 

These were followed a few minutes later by something that didn't pass under the bridge but was making a variety of wonderful hooting, screaming noises from it's steam whistles. I later found that the source of these noises was what looked like converted (in a good way) trawler named the George Stephenson that, despite having folded its funnel and mast, clearly wasn't going to risk passing under the bridge with the tide as high as it was.

 

I'm not sure what I expected of the "flotilla" (the information I saw was a little vague about that) but it was a bit more than this and the expected wave of cheers/applause that the organisers hoped would follow this event from Tower Bridge to Westminster, if it ever started, had fizzled out long before it reached me!

On the other hand the weather wasn't too bad and it did get me out of the house slightly earlier than my natural lethargy suggested was possible.

By the way, I was wrong about the George Stephenson. Not a converted trawler but something altogether more interesting. Thank you to Joanna Moncrieff for pointing me in the right direction on this one.

Oh, and I should give a special mention to the crew of the rather lovely cruiser Elvin, who seemed delighted to have so many cameras pointed in their direction, even though they were not part of the flotilla!

 

That's it!

A Walk Under The River

There are three accessible pedestrian routes under the River Thames. The Greenwich and Woolwich Foot Tunnels are both well known and well used, I've been through both of them on many occasions. The third one came as a bit of a surprise to me.

Work on the Rotherhithe Tunnel commenced in 1904 and it was opened by HRH  The Prince of Wales (later King George V) in 1908. Linking Limehouse  on the north bank with Rotherhithe on the south, it was designed to provide a means for pedestrians and horse drawn traffic to cross the river without the need to travel west to Tower Bridge or east to the Blackwall Tunnel on the other side of the Isle of Dogs. Obviously, horse traffic eventually gave way to the ubiquitous motor vehicle and it is still an important, and heavily used, route from north to south but I had no idea that it was still accessible to pedestrians. According to Wikipedia around twenty pedestrians still use the tunnel each day!

So, this morning, I joined two friends, Jane and Jen to check it out for ourselves. it was a remarkably stress free journey. The pavements (on both sides) are around four feet wide and the speed limit is 20mph so, all things considered, it was probably much safer than the average country lane. The lighting was a pretty good and there were signs, indicating how far you have travelled and how far you still had to go, at regular intervals. I have to admit that air quality was not exactly brilliant but was not as bad as you might expect.

After a walk of just under a mile and reaching a maximum depth below the river surface of  approx. 75ft we emerged into the sunshine and the (relatively) fresh air of the north bank. Overall, an interesting experience but probably not one I'd care to do on a daily basis.

It is a little known fact (?) that beer is the perfect antidote to a potential exhaust fume overdose and to that end we made our way to the Old Ship pub on the delightful York Square E14 (recommended, by the way) for a pint or three. A nice way to end a nice day in good company.

By the way, it was a good job that Jane had her breakdown before entering the tunnel as we didn't have a vehicle to return to!

 

More photographs to follow on Flickr soon.

 

Jack the Ripper.....Mystery Solved?

In the 2002  book Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper Case Closed, Patricia Cornwell declared that her  conclusion was , after much detailed research, that Walter Sickert was JTR. This was not an original idea, his name had been associated with the mystery for many years. It wasn't even the first publication on the subject. In her 1990 book, Sickert and the Ripper Crimes, Jean Overton Fuller asserted that he was indeed the infamous serial killer. Earlier still, in 1976, Stephen Knight in his book Jack the Ripper: The Final Solution put forward the theory that Sickert was an unwilling accomplice to the real Jack.

Now we have a new real Jack the Ripper, well not exactly new. This one has been on the Ripper list since the time of the murders. In yet another book on the subject, Russell Edwards (no relation) names  Aaron Kosminski as quite definitely, without any doubt, the real thing. Based on the DNA profiling of samples of blood on a shawl said to have belonged to, or have been associated with Catherine Eddowes who was believed to have been the Ripper's fourth victim (and the second to die under his hand during the infamous double event of Sunday 30th September 1888).

I am, of course, not qualified to comment on the accuracy of DNA results although it does seem fairly obvious that they wouldn't stand up in a court of law (not that that is relevant here). Firstly, the shawl was obtained under what would now be considered very dubious circumstances. Apparently, a policeman took, or was given it, once it was considered to be no longer important to the investigation, to give to his wife. Although why anyone would give a bloodstained shawl as a gift to his nearest and dearest is beyond me.

Secondly, even though it survived and remained in the hands of the same family for all of these years it can hardly be claimed to have been kept in a sterile and uncontaminated condition. Nevertheless, DNA testing appears to show that the shawl was stained with the blood of both Eddowes and Kosminski (comparisons were made with samples donated by present day members of the two bloodlines). It seems to me that without some other supporting evidence, the best that can be said to explain this is that at some time Kosminski came into contact with both Eddowes and the shawl. Given that Eddowes was a known prostitute and that it was quite possible that Kosminski had been a client, it leaves any kind of statement that he was the killer, or was even present during the event, on very shaky ground.

Anyway, the upshot of all this is that we are probably no closer to knowing who dunnit. Authors and researchers will continue to reel out the name of the real JTR, usually homing in on one or other of the usual suspects. Interestingly, although the same names come up gain and again, someone once said that if you could line up all of the most "respected" Ripperologists, then throw back a curtain to reveal the man(or woman?) himself, they would all look at him (or her) and say "WHO?"

Without any doubt, the unsolved crimes of the person or persons known as Jack the Ripper are fascinating, innumerable theories and books have appeared on the subject and it's an absolute guarantee that just as many are still to come, but that fascination comes from the fact that we don't know his identity. Common sense tells us that, yes of course, the right thing is to find who carried out these horrific crimes and to close the case to the satisfaction of the law and the state............

.......but, a mystery is a mystery...........and people love a mystery!

For an introduction to the whole affair, take a look at Casebook: Jack the Ripper and the Wikipedia entry here.

Wet Feet

A few years ago the government of the day (I dont remember which government that was, not that it matters much) declared their intention of building on Britain's flood plains. Flood plains are so called for a reason but that does not mean that it is not possible to use them. Holland carries the term to an extreme as two thirds of the country is way below sea level and is not just subject to occasional flooding but would be permanently under water without the massive sea defences, permanent pumping and properly designed and maintained drainage systems. To be fair, without all of this there would be no Holland but given that their situation is different to ours in both scale and detail, they apparently only spend about twice as much as we do for all of this. Not bad value when you end up with a viable country for your efforts. 

Why is it that we always just dip our toe (excuse the pun) in to these problems. It is expensive to deal with but is there really a choice? Dealing with existing problems is a massive issue but moving on to the UK's flood plains is a whole different ball game. Without adopting the full Dutch approach it would be insane. Sadly that is the kind of financial compromise insanity that I can see our saintly politicos going for but, sooner or later, someone is going to need to bite the bullet and sign on the dotted line to make this happen. To cross our fingers and hope the problem will go away is not an option. Only a fool would take that route........but then again perhaps only a fool would go into politics in the first place.

Rant over.......for now!

Death In Notting Hill

Something very strange was going on in W11 yesterday morning (Monday 29th July). I left home at 5.30am and was making my way towards my car which was parked in Lonsdale Rd. The first thing I noticed was something very bright in the road at the junction of Lonsdale Rd and Ledbury Rd. Although it was warm and the ground was dry, it was still a bit gloomy, a carry over from the heavy rain that we had overnight. They were so bright that at first I thought they were some kind of lights but as I got closer I could see that they were vivid red and yellow flowers, either artificial or artificially coloured.

Closer still, I found that they had been scattered over the bodies of two dead foxes! Some of the flowers appear to have been in the form of a garland but that may have been just the way that they had fallen.

If I hadn't been running late (sorry I'm late boss, I got held up by two dead foxes, was never going to go down well) I would have gone back to get a camera. I would probably also have phoned the police, although I'm not at all sure how that conversation would have gone!

I didn't have time to forensically examine the corpses but a couple of things were obvious.

Firstly, if they were road kill, they had been moved from where they had been hit. They were laid neatly side by side and on their sides. .

Secondly, if they were road kill it is very unlikely that they were killed at the same time or on this spot. I spend half of my life leaving for work at that ridiculous time in the morning and I see a lot of foxes in the area but they are always solo. I never see two adult foxes together on the streets. I'm not saying it never happens  but  I've not seen it.

Thirdly, they appeared to be in good condition. The flowers covered quite a lot of the bodies but they didn't appear to be emaciated and their tails, which tend to get a bit ragged and threadbare as their condition declines, were clearly visible and were bushy and very foxy. There was a small amount of blood on the road by one of the bodies but they did not appear to be damaged.

Fourthly, they can't have been there for long. It was light, the road is never completely traffic free. Also, neither the foxes or the flowers were waterlogged despite the fact that it had been raining heavily just a few hours before (I know, because I had been lying awake listening to it!).

I now wish that I had taken some photographs to support this tale, even if only on my phone, but give me a break, it  was 5.30 in the morning, I was tired and I was dragging myself off to work. Also, I didn't know at the time that I would be writing all of this down, anyway, it's too late to worry about it now.

So what is going on in Notting Hill. Is it satanists, witches, weirdos, vulpophobic aliens with florisitic leanings, animal sacrifice enthusiasts, hoaxers or simply someone attempting to show respect for two creatures that had died of natural causes. If the latter, then why lay them out in the middle of a road? How respectful is that? However, if it was any of the former group, then perhaps we are all in deeper trouble than even I give the world credit for!

Of course, there may be some (vaguely) rational explanation for all of this, but I'm buggered if I can figure out what it is.

Any thoughts or ideas gratefully accepted!

Margaret Thatcher....the Final Act

So, it's finally over. Margaret Hilda Thatcher has been despatched to meet her maker (if you believe in that kind of thing). Surely one of the most controversial and divisive figures in modern British history, her funeral has resulted in as much discussion as her entire political career.

We are told that she had planned her own funeral in minute detail (I doubt that she would have trusted anyone else to do it) and oh how that shows. The result was, in all but a few details, a State occasion.

After spending the night in the crypt chapel of St Mary Undercroft in the Palace of Westminster, she was transported by hearse to St Clement Danes, the RAF church in the Strand. Here she was transferred onto a gun carriage pulled by horses of the King's Troop Royal Horse Artillery.

If this had been a State funeral, the horses would have been replaced by a team of sailors, a tradition that dates back to the funeral of Queen Victoria. Apparently it was so cold on the day that the horses were extremely unsettled and there was a fear that they would bolt, which would have seriously shattered the dignity of the occasion. Luckily there was a group of underemployed sailors on hand who were (literally) roped in to save the day.

The cortege, accompanied by a military escort and the band of the Royal Marines, then made its way along Fleet St and up Ludgate Hill to St Paul's.

As to what went on inside the Cathedral, I have no real idea. I've managed to avoid most of the TV coverage but I'm pretty certain that that things were carried out in a serene and dignified manner. The thing that has been bothering me is was there much dignity in this whole show and the answer, to my mind, is no. A private ceremony for friends and relatives, perhaps followed by a Memorial Service, would have served the purpose perfectly well.

I freely admit that Margaret Thatcher was never my cup of tea, either personally or politically and that view has not been helped by the circumstances of this funeral. She was always a strong minded woman. Apparently, in 1948 she applied for a job with ICI. She didn't get it, having been deemed to be "headstrong, obstinate and dangerously self-opinionated", the shape of things to come I think!

This attitude remained with her throughout her political career and manifested itself during her final act as self-aggrandisement of the worst possible kind. This was her last chance to show a little humility, but she chose not to use it!

One other thing should be mentioned, and that is of course, the cost. We haven't yet been told what the final bill is for this event but the most common estimate is upwards of £10,000,000. You can't blame people, who are being financially squeezed in the current climate, to be horrified at this figure. I don't think the news that, according to the Telegraph, the Thatcher family is expected to contribute about half the costs, is going to soften those views.

I suppose, in the end, what we have is an old woman, in poor health, living in care (in the Ritz, which has to be the most expensive, and most luxurious care home in the world!) who finally succumbed to a major stroke.

I'm uncomfortable with the street parties and those who have been freely declaring that they are glad that she is dead, but I can understand the strength of feeling in some communities.

She was controversial in life and remains so in death but she is unlikely to be easily forgotten. I think that would have made her chuckle.

Fly the Thames

I get mountains, I really do. There is nothing quite like standing on the top of an Alp on a cold, bright, crystal clear day, where you can see further than the average city dweller can even imagine. Of course, it helps if there is a discreet little cafe up there with you, where you can sip a hot chocolate, perhaps dosed with a hefty slug of the local hooch, and accompany that with a decent sized slab of tooth rotting, waist spreading, sachertorte.

What I don't get is mountain climbing. Why would anyone subject themselves to the pain and misery of clinging to a sheer rock face, not to mention the exhaustion and the ever present danger of plunging hundreds of feet to your death or ending up dangling on a rope with several other climbers like party bunting in a Tim Burton film.

 Fortunately, human ingenuity has come to the rescue, and we are able to ascend in various degrees of comfort thanks to cog railways, ski lifts and cable cars. Even more fortunately, we can descend without ropes and snow axes, or the need to slide down uncontrollably on planks of wood or sleighs the size of tea trays. I don't know why every mountain worth visiting isn't so equipped!

We're a bit short of Alps in London (except in Beckton, of course!) but we do have a cable car. Considered by many to have been another of the Mayor's vanity projects, it apparently would have the massive advantage of its proposed £25 million being entirely financed by private enterprise. In an alternative universe that may have happened. However, back in the real world, the budget kept climbing and in the end has cost the taxpayer in excess of £24 million. The rest has been coughed up by Emirates Airline who, in exchange, get a heavily branded, high visibility, animated advert and a plug on the tube map.

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Anyway, whatever your feelings on the whole project, it is there and it is running, so we may as well use it. So a few weeks ago I did.

The northern terminal is just a short walk from Royal Victoria station on the DLR and is located alongside the Crystal, which is the extraordinary Siemens sustainability centre. It was quite busy on the day I was there and, unless you had an Oyster Card, there were two queues to negotiate before you were able  to climb aboard. The first was to buy your "boarding card" and the second to get into the terminal itself. Using your Oyster Card allows you to enter the terminal in the same way as you'd enter a tube station and has the added advantage of saving you £1.10 on the cost of a single fare. Sadly, Freedom Pass holders will have to buy a boarding card but they do get it at the reduced rate.

Although the queue was quite long, it moved quickly. The loading and unloading of the pods was efficiently handled by the team on the platform and you are very soon on your way. As you gain altitude you get a good view of the Crystal and over the sanitised remains of the docks on which, during my trip, there were a couple of guys water skiing using an overhead drag line rather than a powerboat. They were pretty good on the flat but useless over the jump. I say that as someone who has never tried his hand at this particular activity, but you don't need to be an expert to know that when you hit the ramp you are supposed to stay upright and not end up with your head under the water!

I recommend that as you approach the river it's best not to look down, this isn't because it's likely to trigger a bout of acrophobia (if that is likely to be a problem, then what the hell are you doing up there anyway?) but because it is just plain ugly down there. With all sorts of industrial stuff and piles of scrap, it can hardly be described as scenic! Anyway, there is plenty to occupy your visual senses. If you are on the Royal Victoria to Greenwich Peninsular leg, then most of the action is on your starboard side. Looking back you can see over to the Olympic Park and looking forward, you can peer down on the approaching O2 complex and beyond that the towers of the Isle of Dogs and on to those of the City. You could also see the Shard, but then again you can see that from pretty well anywhere. The weather was fairly miserable on the day of my visit, but it was still worth seeing.

Finally you plunge down towards the Greenwich Peninsular Terminal and the end of your "flight". Disembarkation runs smoothly and you are all too soon back on Terra Firma

I think that it is one of those trips that is worth taking several time, varying the direction, time of day and season of the year. I suspect that, given the right conditions, sunrise and sunset could be spectacular. In my case, a sunrise trip seems unlikely but a sunset flight is a distinct possibility.

A couple of other things to consider. If you travel at off peak times the trip will last a little longer, as they run at a slower speed and, if you don't like the idea of sharing your trip with strangers, for a mere £86.00 you can hire a whole pod to fill with friends, or if you are feeling completely self indulgent (and have more money than sense) keep entirely to yourself. 

Finally, do keep an eye on the weather forecast and check with the TFL website before travelling. This form of travel is affected by high winds, it is also a potential target for a lightning strike during a thunderstorm. Both of these conditions will lead to the service being temporarily suspended (no pun intended) which could force you to hang around (I meant that one ;-) waiting for your flight, not the end of the world if you are just sightseeing, but it could be difficult if you are either commuting or have a very expensive ticket to an event at the O2.

More North Pole News

As a follow up to my last post, the North Pole is currently decorated with these signs following a gathering of protesters on Saturday. I'm slightly surprised that the banners were still there on Monday afternoon, but perhaps Tesco were not aware that a protest had taken place.