Crazy re-paving scheme makes little sense in Clapham Old Town

Can anyone explain what has been gained by the latest  crazy paving "improvement" scheme around Clapham Old Town?

The Polygon seemed to work quite well as a one-way system. At least as a pedestrian or a cyclist you knew where the cars were coming from, and there was a conveniently-sited zebra crossing just outside the old library.

Now there's two way traffic on this road, the crossing has gone 50 metres north - not far, but still a pain if you're in a hurry or in any way disabled - and the third side of the polygon (the bit that goes past Sainsburys is still open to traffic going south  - sometimes - and bikes going both ways).

A cyclist having just crossed this busy road in Clapham Old Town, and
now being directed to cross it, again, might well ask: "wtf??"

In fact for cyclists the new layout seems particularly mad and maddening.
There's one of those classic London cycle lanes that comes to an abrupt stop when it has to cross the combined streams of traffic heading south on the Pavement road. Then the lane continues occupying apparently half the width of Old Town road.  But there is traffic coming straight at you! (See what one Lambeth cyclists' group has to say here).

As for the repaving, the plantings of sad trees in little yellow plots, silly street furniture,  and the taming of the far north-east corner patch of common grassland - well, it all looks just like that terribly bland "regeneration" stuff you see around every new luxury housing project.

Mooching around the vomit-coloured "public space" or "piazza" or whatever they want to call those strange bits between the old pub, the smart restaurant and the old public loos, I can't help but wondering who the hell this is all meant to please.

Two final ironies here: the bit of the road here that really desperately needs work - Rookery Road and North Side between Macaulay Road and the old library - the resurfacing has still not happened. And - well, maybe this is the cleverest thing so far here - they have installed a set of benches, or seats: but they are single seats. Not park benches where three or four people can sit together.

Single seats - for the modern Clapham resident, single-mindedly making the millions they need to live here. Think on it.

The Chase: Clapham's street of no shame

Each day I come home across the northern corner of Clapham Common, then turn right into my street.

Over the road are the beautiful walled gardens of Trinity Hospice, wonderful at any time of year, but especially so in spring, with its abundant wisteria and blossoming trees. This hospice - rightly venerated across the city - still operates according to the policies of its founders, that is - offering a place to anyone i need within its catchment area, regardless of anything else, wealth included.

If only the rest of this street, my street, where I have lived since 1985, could adhere to such policies.

Up on the wall to your left as you turn the corner from Northside into The Chase are two plaques.  Not genuine blue plaques denoting former residents of historical significance. No, these are a less impressive blue, one mid-blue, one dark, but they are not the real thing, not real London Blue Plaques.

Instead,  they are privatised plaques, essentially boasts, commemorating two street parties held in this road, one for the queen's 60th anniversary of accession to the throne,  possibly, and the other for the royal family wedding, a year or so later.

I can't remember the exact dates but I do remember the rather off-putting invitations, stuffed through our front doors back then. They invited us all to join in honouring said royals at "street parties".

 The Chase would be closed to traffic and the residents were invited to buy tickets for a feast in honour of, well I suppose the Queen herself, and ... I can''t remember who the others were - possibly Charles' son's wedding to Ms K. Middleton?

I have no interest in  England's royal family. They seem in some cases to be rather silly, annoying people, I am never sure why they are given the opportunity to comment so often. I do not generally believe them when they speak, it seems like they are actors, voicing someone else's lines.

 I'm sure they'd have similar or even stronger feelings about me. You can't really hate them, they are too bland.  The ones I loathe are the media arse-lickers who seem to think we all want them to plaster photos of these dreary folk all over the front pages of newspapers, and all over every TV news bulletin.

So, I have to admit, it rather annoys me every day, seeing these plaques commemorating these events which gave a few well-heeled households in this street the chance to advertise their patriotism and their connections and their good taste in catering to each other. It is still, in this country, a matter of who you know, or worse still, where you went to school or university.

But why did they have to stick these plates on the wall? It is the equivalent of me putting huge photos of Castro or Che Guevara or even poor old Ken Livingstone over my windows.

I wish I had a similar wall onto which I could screw plaques reflecting my own political views. Living on the top floor of a decaying chunk of jerry-built housing - one the luftwaffe should have put out of its misery, but narrowly missed - I do not.

I wish I had had the nerve to organise a street party  to mark the 25th anniversary of the death of this street's one truly great recent resident, Angela Carter. That might be something good: but I'm sure her many friends and fans and family me members will do something good, in 2017, for this great author.

It happens that there is a genuine Blue Plaque on a house in this street, directly opposite where I live. It marks the spot where the Japanese novelist, Natsume Soseki, spent a couple of extremely unhappy and uncomfortable years in London in a miserable Clapham boarding house. That house is now worth approximately £2.5 million. Or perhaps much more...

I doubt if many people will visit this part of Clapham to see where some wealthy residents glugged a lot of champagne in honour of the royals on those days. By contrast, almost every day through the summer, taxis and minibuses stop outside 80 The Chase to disgorge Japansese tourists, young and old, here to pay tribute to Japan's answer to Dickens or Henry James, and to visit the small museum in the flat at no 80b.

Maybe a Japanese themed street party would tick all our boxes?

Meanwhile, another "only in The Chase" sighting today - one of those home-made posters asking people to pick up their dog's shit. Only in this case, it came with a bag of Bob Marten's poo-bags, just in case the shames owners had forgotten to bring their own.

Hurrah!

Eras ain't what they used to be (RIP Marco Polo House)

Well, it wasn't much of grand era for the country I suppose - that rather shoddy two decades from 1984

to the great slump of 2008. But to see the demolition balls cracking into that weird white building on the south side of Chelsea Bridge was to feel once again the end of a part of my own life.

When I first moved to south west London in 1985, my mother would often come and stay. As her train approached Victoria she would see this almost cathedral-like shiny white block just across the rails from the grand old Battersea power station. Being a fan of all things new and shiny, she rather liked it - but not as much as she liked watching Concordes roaring overhead  from my balcony.

As I was soon to discover, this building was to be the headquarters of the Observer newspaper, then owned by a businessman called "Tiny" Rowland. The Observer hacks didn't seem too keen on being transplanted south of the River, and the newspaper itself went downhill. Eventually Rowland sold it to  the Guardian and  Marco Polo House fell empty.

As luck would have it,  the first official satellite broadcaster in the latter days of Mrs Thatcher's reign, BSB, was due to launch soon and needed a suitably impressive HQ building.

BSB was a blatant attempt by the broadcasting establishment to neutralise the upstart Sky TV, which had taken advantage of this age of white-hot de-regulation to start beaming about 6 channels into the UK - and charging for some of them. The ex-BBC and ex-ITV people running BSB were spending vast sums of money in all directions (anyone remember the "Squarial?") - and this flamboyant building in its off-beat location seemed to chime nicely with their aspirations.

I got to see inside Marco Polo house quite often, as from 1990 to 1996 I was working for business magazines Satellite Trader and Cable & Satellite Europe, covering the emergent new media industry of the 1980s. It all seemed very modern and flash and lovely - how could a broadcaster based in such super hi-tech surroundings possibly fail?

Oddly enough, it did fail, about a year later, and Murdoch's Sky very generously allowed itself to merge with the hopelessly fat and now deflated BSB to form BSkyB.

Marco Polo House immediately lost its first tenant and any BSB staff kept on had to work in the much less glamorous HQ of Sky TV on an industrial estate near Heathrow airport. For a while it housed the shopping channel, QVC, but it was clearly falling into disrepair.

Now it stands on the western edge of the biggest re-development zone in London (see Nine Elms disease articles) and is being swept away to make room for what seem like equally flashy blocks of flats.

From the shoulder-padded early 1980s to the skinny-jeaned 20-teens, a pretty dismal era really. Bad taste in the mouth, bad taste all round.

Nine Elms disease part XX: Skyline campaign brings good taste to the debate

At last, someone comes to the debate over London's resurgent skyscraper plague with matters other than money and politics in mind.

Writing in the Architect's Journal, former City of London planner  Peter Rees poured scorn on the quality of the new residential towers going up across London - but especially those in the Vauxhall/NineElms/Battersea developments.

He rather weakens his case by contrasting these "dumbed down" "investment towers" with some of the new buildings in the City that he was involved with - the Gherkin and the Cheesegrater, sure, but what about the repulsive "Walkie-Talkie"? Did the plans for that one not pass under his highly sensitive nose?

That apart, you just have to applaud the campaign's aims, but it looks like it's just too late. Certainly for those of us watching our lovely views across London being daily narrowed down by the shiny boxes of various shapes rising out of the old Battersea marshes.

In a separate article in the same magazine, Robert Bevan  singles out the hideous St George's Tower at Vauxhall, which is best known as the location of a helicopter crash last year. Great the way an architectural expert can really lay in to a nasty building - he attacks its joylessness, and the "cheap grey glass and steel" finish, at odds with the "cheap green glass" of the equally hideous winged towers next door/beneath.

Oddly, another recent and quite loud bit of architectural statement at Vauxhall is the subject of a preservation campaign. That's the shiny "ski jump" shelter at the massive bus station, all of which is now to be swept away under Lambeth's plans. Good luck, Kate Hoey MP et al!

Catch it while you can: compared with what's coming, the 1960s Elephant and Castle Shopping Centre is a thing of beauty

It might be a shock to the system to say it, but now I can and I will and I say it loud: I love the Elephant & Castle Shopping Centre!

Well of  course you do because it's now under threat from gentrification and you always jump on these bandwagons etc - down with the wicked property developers all over again etc!

Yeah well it's not just that. I mean I had my first real job across the road in Alexander Fleming House, when it was still the DHSS, back in the early 1970s. Did all my shopping in the centre for a while, but by then it already seemed a bit down-at-heel.

There was that 80s  revival with pink paint; but much more recently the centre seems to have re-invented itself as a new multi-ethnic version of the 1900s covered market, a bit like a 1960s version of the big Brixton markets a couple of miles down the A23. And we all know how everyone just luuurves Brixton Market these days.

Approaching the magic roundabout from the south on the 176 bus in glorious spring sunshine, the first thing you have to notice is the absurdity of that new tower block with its Batmobile finials and the three  wind turbines still stubbornly refusal to budge an inch, evening the briskest of south-west winds.

If I'd shelled out over half a mill for a two-bed in that silly building I'd at least want to insist on getting some cheap wind power back.

That building is just so tacky and horrible that we will all soon come to revere it, for sure. It even has an appropriately wanky name: Strata.

Back to the case in point however.

The knee-jerk opinion of the place is "yuk" - and yet, each time I visit I like it more. (Of course it has many other fans - see this piece on the London SE1 site for more Elephantophiliac views). I always liked the sort of mossy undergrowth of open-air market all round the edge, or under-lip of the building. Three pairs of acrylic trainer socks in Rasta colours for £2.99 anyone?

Inside it has a surprisingly civilised air.  Just its age has given it a bit of dignity: climbing the steel and pink composite stairways you think, they don't make things like this anymore. The whole interiors has been given a rather good paint job in those bold reds, yellows and greens that give it a definite LAtino feel, while the  rubbish has been stripped off many shop front to reveal a nice Mondrian-esque grid pattern of girders which have also been  panted. Good God it is almost tasteful!

More stylish than Westfield - the cool spacious shopping
 floors of the Elephant and Castle's 1965 shopping centre,
soon to be demolished

The civilisation is real there though, just look at the fabulous Colombian bar-café La Bodeguita slap bang in the middle of things. Then there are the African textiles and foods, the useful Clarks Shoes factory shop, plenty of Asian places to fix your phone, etc, etc - it is usually busy and clearly really popular with a many different nationalities for family shopping andy socialising.

 What with everybody now scrambling over each other to get a piece of the London property pie before it collapses into a column of foul-smelling steam - the old Shopping Centre will go. It's clear the centre's days are already numbered - no point in crying over it now, just read this bit from the Standard a few months back and kick yourself for being so slow.

So the country's first "Mall" or covered shopping precinct, as we knew it then - will be replaced, presumably by more stubby glass towers of  "affordable" £200k+ flats and some "social amenities" - a swimming pool perhaps, or a library. At least we're not getting a Westfield here.

But how can they replace somewhere so good? Can't imagine there'll be much demand for the cheap underwear from the new residents. Once again it seems developers are being allowed to steal something which has much more value than the pounds-per-square-foot costings of the land.

You can find out more about these plans on Southwark council's site, and  from the developers who know own the Centre, Delancey. Click there and feel your heart sink as you see dozens more of those architect's cgi images of shiny plazas and piazzas.

Charity shop pecking order for the hopeless bibliomane

If you love books, have a certain amount of spare time, live in or near a major city or conurbation, or anywhere else in the uk if you're sufficiently mobile - there's plenty of fun to be had setting off on charity shop book-hunts.

I don't have to go far to indulge this slightly greedy hobby. I have nine charity shops within a 15 minute walk from where I live, and roughly five times that number within a 15 minute cycle ride.

And every one of these shops has, on at least one occasion, thrown up a treasure.

But, after many years of raiding these treasure troves, I have now, by a sort of alluvial process, come to this   totally arbitrary "pecking order" of the shops I am most likely to visit if time is scarce, or if my mood is low and I need my spirits lifted.

So here we go - my 2014 (Spring) top dozen or so charity shops in South/South West London…

Coming in at number one, week after week, is the wonderful Save the Children Shop on Clapham High Street, near the overgorund rail station. A good selection of books, well priced (typically £1.50 for good paperbacks); similar CDs, records and clothes. It's a large, airy, sunny shop – and what really makes it a winner  for me is the in-store music - it's often reggae or ska, it is always loud and upbeat. You just want to dance and dance and buy  and then buy some more.

In second place - after a few recent fruitful visits - is the Oxfam Shop in Gloucester Road. I am almost surprised to say this as I had almost gone off Oxfam. For a long time it seemed to have a policy of pricing all books at £2.99, CDs likewise, and the stories were become too uniform. The specialist bookshops were never as good as they should have been - even the one in Portobello Road has gone downhill (but be aware that things change very fast in this world). The Balham one's a bit barren and the Herne Hill one is fine but pricey and the staff a wee bit snooty. I also felt they were just too much like unfair competition to bona-fide secondhand bookshops.

But this Oxfam in this very posh street is a gem, quite different in feel from most others, with a good balance between clothes, books, music and bric-a-brac. The prices are a bit looser, as well.

Best recent buy: catalogue for the Monet in 20th Century Exhibition, perfect condition, £4
One I wish I had bought and didn't: Brand new Banana Republic cord jacket for £22.

Sharing 3rd place (sorry) - I have to declare an interest here - my alma mater, the Trinity Hospice chain. Visit any of their 20 or so shops as often as you can - bargains can usually be found, though you do have to make repeat visits as they often hold sales and turnover is high. Lovely staff in some of the shops. Best of the bunch: the Bute Street shop, SW7 - of course! Even if I didn't have personal connections there, I would love this shop for its eclecticism, intimacy and its distinct Gallic flavour. Great for cheap French novels. As with Oxfam, Trinity's specialist book and media shop in Kensington

Church Street is not as good as it used to be; books more expensive here than in the general shops.

At number 4 are the FARA shops in Northcote Road,  Pimlico and Gloucester Road. Stuff in these shops is always so well displayed, and until recently you could be sure of an interesting and fast-changing stock of books, though sadly there has been a bit of a downturn very recently. The Northcote Road branch , in particular, has lost some its charm - the staff no longer seem so friendly either.  But the Gloucester Road  shop is  great fun, I love the basement of books, magazines, records , menswear and curios. A similar retro feel exists in FARA's Pimlico SHop.

Number 5 and 6 - the Oxfam Shops in  the Kings Road, Chelsea, and Warwick Way,  Pimlico. The former was my number one charity shop for many years, from way back in 1990 when I worked nearby. Bang next to Vivienne Westwood's original shop, it was the place to find great clothes at crazy prices. It is still good, always has plenty of great books, but the prices are a bit above the average.

Number 7  - A wild card here - the MIND Shop in Wandsworth Road, SW8, near the overground station. A real old-school charity shop, cheap clothes, and a hugely eclectic range of books, CDs, DVDs, vinyl etc. Old school charity shop, and all the better for it.

Number 8 - the Cancer Research Shop, World's End end of the King's Road. Always nice staff here, and it used to be great for old LPs. Books are cheap, and clothes can be real bargains as well - better now than its neighbouring Oxfam and Trinity shops.

Number 9 Huge and cluttered, the Wandsworth OASIS (HIV charity) shops in Battersea PArk Road have massive selection of everything, books, CDs, DVDs, furniture, the lot. A bit murky, a bit dowdy, rather dim on the lighting front but always good for a long browse, with genuine bargains still very much available to those who persevere. Nice staff too.

Number 10 but sure to rise, I feel  - the big Barnado's Shop in Brixton. Cheap and cheerful which often gets interesting vinyl (see the fast changing display in one of its windows.)


You might notice I have not mentioned  British Heart Foundation shops, even though I have bought plenty of stuff in many of their outlets - Balham, Clapham Junction, etc. But I get annoyed with their highly standardised and over-cluttered shop layouts, their pricing (£2.50 for most paperback novels, too much!) and their policy of having in-store cash collectors.

Likewise Scope, Help the Aged and Octavia Hill shops - they are all OK but just not too good for books, generally. Although, as with any charity shop, you can always get lucky - so take note, and do not heed this advice! As soon a people follow a guide, the quality drops and the prices rise. So it will soon be time for us all to rove farther afield. I'm aware of and slightly daunted by all those cavernous charity shops in South East and North West London. Fresh fields.

SO what are your favourite charity shops? Not just in London, anywhere? Tell me, I want to visit them!

Oh, look - Nine Elms disease at last reported by Evening Standard

I was wondering when London's main media outlets would start to look harder at the miracle of redevelopment that is happening very fast along the southern bank of the river Thames, between Vauxhall Bridge and Chelsea Bridge.

Of course it was all Olympic excitement when the plans were announced, way back in 2012 - a new life for the old iconic Power Station, vibrant new communities where in the past all we had had were council estates, markets and cats-and-dogs homes.

And a rather grim recycling centre, and an awful lot of gravel/infill/chippings/cement or whatever it is that Hanson et al pour into the back of those high-velocity cement mixer trucks that go up and down Queenstown Road at all hours of the day, spraying it with cyclist-toxic pebbledash.

Now, thanks to the Evening Standard's op-ed heavyweight Simon Jenkins, we can be sure that this indeed is part of the big problem.

In today's (25.03.14) issue Jenkins waxes very shirty about the empty-property problem that is now bedevilling his own manor - Kensington & Chelsea, of course. Then he fires a salvo aimed at the massed forces of those who are juicing this city dry with their  rapid-build, off-the-plan schemes:

"The south bank of the Thames is becoming Europe's version of Dubai's Palm Island, the winnings of an evil world stashed in Boris's behemoths littering the London skyline".

He adds that  the rich developers will continue to choose nice old houses in Knightsbridge and Kensington for themselves - and that their weird high-rise investments in Bermondsey and Blackfriars and Vauxhall  are likey to remain empty, an "insult to London".

Well, I can't help but sympathise. Chiefly, I must admit, because those new high rises along the Nine Elms strip are going to totally obliterate what had once been a rather charming, back-end of view of Westminster.

A pox on you all, whoreson pimps, you fat-pursed invaders of Vauxhall. A curse on you, all of you!