Friday, 23 July 2021

Hatfield Forest

Sunday was a hot and sunny day, so when my mate John asked if there was somewhere we might go for a day trip when his wife was out of town, I suggested a forest. Hatfield Forest. It is by no means all woodland - it has a substantial ornamental lake part of a Capability Brown designed pleasure landscape created for the Hublons (Hublon being the first Governor of the Bank of England). But at least there were substantial parts under shade. Just a lovely day for it.






























 

White Lies at the PowerHaus and a day around Greenwich

At last. The return of gigs. I have done a few socially distanced comedy ones  in the last couple of months, but Monday was the first day that we were allowed proper music gigs. So me being me I was out on the very first night one could, to see White Lies at the PowerHaus (formerly Dingwalls) in Camden. 

I cannot express how nice it was to be back - especially as you could see that was exactly how everyone else felt, including the band. It was just such a lovely atmosphere.

I say a "lovely atmosphere" in the emotional, not physical sense. Monday was around 30C in the afternoon and hadn't cooled much by the evening. Luka and I, and most of the audience, were in t-shirts and shorts. And as the gig "warmed up", and even a mosh pit developed, the physical atmosphere began to resemble the humidity of a tropical rain forest with added body odour. But honestly, we loved it.

And White Lies were truly terrific. No support act so Luka and I had to make conversation for an hour, which we seemed to be able to do ok. Luka did a bit of lusting after the vast array of guitars being tested out in front of us - we were right at the front as photos show. It is an added bonus for me going to a gig with someone who actually plays guitar and so can give some added insights.

This was very much a greatest hits show, not promoting an album. The audience lapped it up. And if we were sweaty, the band were worse, especially Harry McVeigh whose white shirt was quickly wet through and clinging to him. Even his guitars were sweating (well glistening with condensation)!


So, interesting observation about the crowd. About 500 but I only counted 5 wearing masks. And you could get no more "dangerous" place - no windows and exceedingly humid. But ironically we then got onto a largely empty Northern Line for which we needed to wear protective masks. This is the problem now - once you open up, the restrictions that are still in place just seem ridiculous, or at least lacking in proportion. And the track and trace stuff will just die out as everyone will have some contact with someone who has tested positive and we can't all self isolate. Certainly very few will, except for train drivers given the opportunity to get a few days off work.

Now Luka had told me that, as a good North London boy, he had only gone south of the river a couple of times to Croydon. He has the impression that the South is just the Badlands (which of course in parts it is!) but I promised to show him some of the posh bits. So next day I took him on a walk through Greenwich. I thought a fun start would be to get the DLR to Royal Victoria and then the take the Emirates cable car across the River.

We then walked all the way around the Greenwich Peninsula on the Thames Path to the Greenwich Hospital. On the cultural side, I took him into the Painted Hall in Greenwich - probably the finest bit of British Baroque art in England. The Hall has padded benches all along the middle to allow one to lie back and to gaze at the ceiling.


Then we visited the Queens House for more maritime culture, followed by the climb up Greenwich Park to what is said to be the best view in London. Probably fair boast.

And then onwards into Blackheath.



And finally a word about my young companion for all this, Luka. Here seen transferring the ice from his pint of coke to his water bottle, one cube at a time! It was a hot day. But just to say I couldn't have had more agreeable company to celebrate the first day of freedom with. I really don't think 16 year olds were as mature when I was 16, but obviously I don't have a large pool of 16 year old friends to compare him with to test whether he is a typical modern teenager! I suspect however, that he is an exceptional one.

And personally, I just loved the fact that on consecutive days I had got to hang out with a 31 year old, a 59 year old and a 16 year old. It does give one a spectrum of life.















Sunday, 18 July 2021

Stoke Newington

Stoke Newington is very middle class, but for those of the chattering classes who have been priced out of Islington. It was considered the up and coming place when I first moved to London. By now it has truly arrived. The high street is just full of places you can but expensive coffee and pastries in. It isn't exactly overflowing with historic buildings, but it has some...

One surprise is to find Defoe lived here (on what is now called Defoe Street)
This is a lovely house
But the plaque again refers to what used to be on the site rather than the house that is there now

The most striking building is the new St Mary's Church due to its tall steeple (Old St Mary's Church across the road is nice, but overgrown and doesn't photograph well)


The most pleasing house in the area is Clissold House, in Clissold Park.






And Clissold Park is beautiful on a warm sunny afternoon...