Sunday in Docklands, Friday in Soho

A nice crisp sunny (but bloody freezing) Sunday, so I felt the urge to get out and go for a walk.

I should have started this at Tower Hill, but due to London Underground going through a fit of enthusiasm for engineering works this weekend, I started it in the City by the Bank of England and pottered through to Tower Hill.

On Tower Hill there is a fine memorial to the seamen who died in the two world wars. Something quite touching that their names are remembered, and will always be there (unless some tinkers nick the bronze to melt it down for scrap)

The gardens in front of the Tower are rather pleasant on a day like this, clear, sunny and lacking in tourists.

So, then on past the Tower, and of course Tower Bridge.

So first of the docks one comes across heading east is St Katharine's Dock.

Now, as I am sure you all know, St Katharine was going to be broken on a wheel (hence the firework amongst other sacred references) but the wheel was shattered by an angel. Only for the saint to be beheaded instead, proving only that you would pick Tom Cruise for a rescue mission over an angel any day. So obviously, one names a dock after her. (Well via the hospital and church that needed to be removed to build it.) But now it is an undoubtedly picturesque spot, with lots of nice little places to eat overlooking a marina packed with expensive yachts.

And at one end is Dickens Inn, which I assume has some connection with Dickens, which in this bicentenary year, everywhere wants to have.

The dock was not a particular commercial success as its access is so narrow. But its fine for modern yachts (well obviously not ones on the Abramovich scale, but fine for those with less ostentatious tastes). I was lucky enough to be there as the drawbridge came up to allow a boat to escape to the River. So here it is going up.

So now one is walking through Wapping, with nice views across the Thames

Now Wapping actually has some fine historic Georgian buildings (amongst all the modern blocks and warehouse conversions you might expect), notably at Wapping Pier Head - houses built for dock officials.

The square here has a rather quaint school (now flats I guess) with boys and girls neatly separated in case they might do something shocking like talk to each other before marriage.

And it was just about here that I came across comedian and ubiquitous BBC presenter Graham Norton out trying hard to avoid eye contact with the plebs while out walking his big fluffy dogs (yeah a bit gay I guess). I suppose I can sympathise with his desire not to mix with the public. Must be pretty irritating, and given his career there can be few more recognisable faces. But his presence does tell one how upmarket the area has become.

Having got to about lunchtime, I picked on the best looking pub that I happened to be outside of, and went in for a pint and Sunday roast. Would recommend the Town of Ramsgate, just by the Old Wapping Steps down to the Thames.

Strangely, this area being a combination of Georgian and 1980s restoration, there are fewer eyesores than probably any other area of London. The 1980s was really the restart of decent taste, after the seventies. The exception is the river police building. See what I mean?

The wharves and warehouses are of course the main feature of the area, and their conversions are remarkably tasteful.

And where there are dockers there was a need for pubs to refresh them after a long day's pilfering. The Town of Ramsgate was but one of several pubs claiming ancient status, like the Prospect of Whitby,

 the Grapes,

 and the Captain Kidd, the latter named after the pirate who had actually been sent out by the Admiralty to counter pirates, but did the poacher turned gamekeeper job in reverse. The Admiralty weren't impressed and duly hanged him here. They have even stuck a noose outside one of the pubs to give that authentic feel. Must be one of the most scenic execution spots. Nice view to be your last.

And beyond that little lot there are some other pubs in the area I wouldn't mind trying one day, like the Ship. or the Narrow, or the Turks Head.

The area does have some other industrial buildings - this impressive bridge - again built to open for passing boats

and the pumping station for the London Hydraulic company, with a nicely bizarre art project outside it.

A little trip through the King Edward VII Memorial Park, with its little memorial to early explorers who departed from London.

Obviously one of the joys of what is a basically river walk are the views across the river, especially of Canary Wharf

Eventually one gets to Limehouse Basin. More boats, more high-class flats with expensive price tags.

This joins up with the Regents Canal

 Finally I ended up at St Anne's Limehouse. On the way in one  passes the house of Charles Dickens' godfather (I said everywhere wants a Dickens connection). Its the bow-fronted house on the corner. The church is by Hawksmoor, but being the East End, is closed to avoid vandals. Nice graveyard, and it seems it is spring. Crocuses and snowdrops out.

But across the road there is a rather, shall we say, over exuberant bar, facing the church. I think I will stick to the historic ones, despite the Olympic flags outside it.

Well that was Sunday. A nice day with a few dark clouds can also lend itself to some arty photos. So I was tempted to try a few.

Friday night was in Soho, at a comedy club. I think just how cosmopolitan a city we live in can be gleaned from the fact that the compere was American, the first act a gay Bengali, the second a straight young Canadian and the headliner is apparently Sweden's top comic, Magnus Betner. The latter makes Frankie Boyle seem like Mary Whitehouse. He was good, but then so were all the acts.

The cultural diversity can be all important. Take this bit from Paul Sinha, the gay Bengali. Wouldn't really work from anyone else. I paraphrase - I don't take a tape recorder - but went something like this. He explained his liking for rough Northern men, and as a result was spotted staring at this bloke snogging his girlfriend.

"You looking at my girlfriend?"

Clearly a number of options here, all seemingly bad. "Yes" - a beating. "No" - "Whats wrong with her?" and a beating.. "No actually its you sir that I find attractive" Hospitalisation with a long spell eating through a straw.

So he replied, "Sorry mate, but my wife died of cancer a few months ago, so I couldn't look at another woman like that." Safety, but a lie, albeit a white one. It wasn't his wife, but his sister. And she hadn't died - just got a degree in history. But to his parents a non-medical degree was as good as death.

Mr Betner was less culture specific, apart from the opening where he apologised if his accent was more American than English. "It's your fault really - make better movies." On lying he was less subtle than Mr Sinha. "No, that's the truth" he said at one point. "If I wanted to be a liar I would have been a priest like my dad."

The venue was the Casino at the Empire Leicester Square. The Empire is a bit of a rabbit warren inside. The comedy venue was a slightly strange one - a bar at one side but no stage - I think its was more of a small dance venue. Not sure the dancing might be of the most savoury kind. All very seventies right down to the little chandeliers.

Not much else to note during the week, other than a visit from my best mate at university, on Valentines Day. The significance of the latter was that we wanted to go out for dinner, and that's the one day of the year where a couple of mates are going to feel uncomfortable in a restaurant. Luckily there are restaurants in Palmer's Green so unpopular that you could get a table even on Valentines Day. My local curry house had done its best - a single red rose in a vase on every table. But apart from that we didn't feel we were in a lovers world.

We then retired to my house to demolish a bottle of Merlot and set the world to rights. I have said it before, but every time I see Mike, which is probably only once or twice a year now given we live on opposite sides of the country, I realise just why we were such good friends in the first place.