Front Drive Clearance And Survivors From July 2013

These London images are from https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/04/the-abdication/

Pictures of this dead trunk feature in https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/09/a-precarious-career/

These ponies stampeded to https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/11/the-watering-hole/

The actions of https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/12/the-good-samaritans/ enabled us to watch these hang gliders at Barton on Sea.

These two views of Little Venice feature in https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/16/this-train-is-not-stopping-at/

These five women asked me to photograph them on a London trip in https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/17/that-was-worth-fighting-for/

A London trip from https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/19/back-to-the-akash/

Here are two views of https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/26/the-dragonfly/ at The Firs in West End

and this bee on a marigold https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/31/planted-in-the-i-mac/

Over the last two days Jackie has completed and photographed her clearance of the east side of the Front Drive.

This was the last stretch before she continued the work, revealing a

clean corner we have never seen before.

She also photographed a couple of her planted urns.

The iMac pictures now tally 57,332.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, Mrs Elswood’s sandwich gherkins, and Garner’s pickled onions.

No More Shell Building

IMAGES CAN BE ENLARGED BY CLICKING ON THEM – TWICE IF NECESSARY

As usual when I travel to London, Waterloo, Jackie drove me to and from New Milton today. Apart from the fact that the ticket office was closed because the system wasn’t working, and I held up the queue for the machine on the platform because I didn’t know how to use it, the journey was uneventful.

When I last took today’s walk from Waterloo Station, across Westminster Bridge to Carol’s  home off Victoria Street, I would have crossed York Road by footbridge from the station concourse. This was not possible today. The bridge was closed and we had to walk down steps on the station side, and along the road until reaching the County Hall corner before we could cross.

South Bank development 1South Bank development 3

South Bank Development 2South Bank Development 5

South Bank Development 4

A great, gaping hole appeared where the Shell Building, a landmark as long as I can remember, had stood when I made the trip a year ago.

South Bank Development signs

This is to become a South Bank Development of ‘exceptionally stylish apartments’. Apparently people are already queuing up to acquire them although prices have not yet been fixed.

South Bank development workmen 1

Around the corner, on the approach to The London Eye, I noticed two men in hard hats sitting against the background of building works.

South Bank development workmen 2

As I came nearer, one of the very friendly men held up warning hands to ensure that I did not, without a hard hat, enter the site. The other gentleman came over to me and we had a pleasant conversation during which he suggested I might prefer to be photographing the New Forest.

South Bank Development 6

I then shot the scene without the workers.

Crowd on Westminster Bridge 1

Once on Westminster Bridge I was reminded how difficult it is to negotiate that thoroughfare during the tourist season.

Piper and audience

The piper, however, was given some breathing space.

Roadsweeper

An assiduous road sweeper kept the area around Parliament Square suitably tidy. The Plane tree around which he had just wielded his brush, was bursting into leaf,

Plane Trees and buses

as were those in an unusually quiet Victoria Street,

Plane trees and St Stephen's Church

and outside St Stephen’s Church, Rochester Row.

I didn’t note the name of the excellent Italian restaurant in that street where Carol and I enjoyed each other’s company over a superb meal. My choice was a tortellini and clear chicken stock soup followed by sea food risotto. We both chose creme brûlée. I drank Friuli sauvignon.

Lambeth Palace from 507 bus

I returned to Waterloo on the 507 bus, from which I gained a clear view of Lambeth Palace.

P.S. Perusal of the comments by Paul and Geoff below, will show that the title and the inference of this post is only partially correct. The main tower remains. It is just the lower levels that have been removed.

‘If It’s Worth A Photograph……’

Regent Street lights001Today’s advent picture is similar to the first, but has a different coloured central star.  This seems to me to offer far more variation than one would see today.  It is worthy of note that there are very few pedestrians admiring the window display and the vehicles on Regent Street in December 1963 are all taxis or buses.

As we set off for Southampton Parkway this morning, foraging ponies loomed out of a heavy mist weakly penetrated by a myopic sun resembling a haloed full moon shrouded by thick clouds.  Visibility on the A31 was most meagre.  There were some clear patches on the M27 giving layered views of the bordering forest trees.  Foreground silhouettes would give way to a barely visible row followed by bright golden ones.  The pattern would be repeated into the distance.

By the time my train had reached Waterloo the sun’s warmth had drawn most of the mist up into the ether. Westminster BridgeHouses of Parliament and Westminster Bridge That which lingered over the Thames presented dreamy views of Westminster Bridge and the Houses of Parliament.  London Eye, Westminster Bridge, Houses of ParliamentAn oriental gentleman resting a super-long lens on the parapet of the Golden Jubilee Bridge told me what stunning sights he had just seen from the top of the London Eye.  I apprised him of the reason I was unable to emulate him.

Bangles stall

The Christmas fair on South Bank flourished.  One of the stalls sold its own version of festive lighting. Christmas decorations stall Like Catherine wheels they spun, expanded, and contracted.  The timing of this photograph was a delicate matter of trial and error.

Blue CockerelCrossing The Strand and walking through Trafalgar Square I was afforded a clearer view of the blue cockerel poised either to drink from the fountain or to peck at Nelson’s other eye.  I now understand that the sculpture is not French after all.  It is the work of German artist Katharina Fritsch who describes it as ‘feminist’.

Pirate living statueOn the piazza before the National Gallery a diminutive, motionless pirate perched on his own plinth.  Dropping £1 into his hat I said: ‘If it’s worth a photograph, it’s worth a donation’.  Silently, without moving any other, even facial, muscle, like a jointed puppet, he raised his glass in acknowledgement.  I don’t know whether he had been aware I’d shot him.

From the square I walked up Haymarket to Piccadilly Circus and along Piccadilly itself to Green Park where I boarded a Jubilee Line train to Neasden and thence to Norman’s. Eros in a bubble Eros, presumably in preparation for the revelries to come, is now encased in a bubble.

Bagman

A bagman I had seen over the years in numerous parts of London adjusted his load after having effected bicycle repairs.

Fortnum & Mason WindowFortnum & Mason Window (1)

Fortnum and Mason’s windows reflected the seasonal mood.

At Green Park I was to regret parting with my last coin.  I needed a pee, which can now only be obtained by inserting 30p into a machine.  So I had to ask the man at the ticket office to change a £10 note.  The smallest coin he gave me was 50p.  The machines don’t give change, so what once cost one old penny was subject to 120x inflation.

Norman fed us on a roast turkey and Christmas pudding lunch with which we shared an excellent bottle of Vacqueras 2011, after which I took my usual route to Carol’s and then on to Waterloo.  Jackie collected me from Southampton.

Britain’s Leading Ladies

Jackie delivered me to Southampton Parkway in plenty of time for the Waterloo train for my visits to my London friends; and the service was subject to delay because of electrical supply problems.  I therefore occupied myself with an idle amble.

Readers will know that I am a Victor Meldrew when it comes to grammar and punctuation.  I am grateful to Jessie for likening me to that loveable public spirited sitcom character.  I have probably done the apostrophe to death. Parking Notice The unnecessary ‘of’, of course, I have not previously mentioned.  The parking warning notice outside the station gave me an opportunity to focus on this.

I then wandered along the taxi rank peering into the windows.  This possibly disappointed a couple of drivers standing by their cabs.  If so, they didn’t show it, as we had a friendly chat after I explained that I didn’t need a ride, but was looking for my brother in case he was there.  Joe, you see, drives a taxi for a living.  He works out of Southampton, which these Eastleigh men say is much more lucrative.

Chris and Elizabeth are both advanced mathematicians, and tell me that our younger sibling is the best of them all.  He chooses not to use this talent, being happier in his chosen role.  Apart from the war years, when he worked with army vehicles, Dad drove a furniture van all his adult life.  Perhaps driving is in the genes.  Maths certainly is.  Our father was also very good at sums.  I’m not.

On the train, two crying babies set each other off, and we settled down to an ear-shattering journey.  Fortunately one of the infants disembarked at Winchester and silence suddenly ensued.

I walked the Westminster Bridge route to Green Park where I boarded a Jubilee Line train to Neasden, and continued on foot to Norman’s.

London Eye

In its spider’s hawsers the London Eye caught an extended erection I have not noticed before.

Ophelia

The flora in the poster of Millais’ Ophelia at Neasden station has been embellished by the ubiquitous buddleia.

Ace Waste Skips

Ace Waste Skips in Neasden Lane has been imaginatively advertised high above the eight foot fence that surrounds their depot.  Britain's leading ladiesOr is it an installation by Tracy Emin, who M & S now include in our leading ladies?  (I swear I thought of the artist before I passed the retailer’s hoarding.  Such is sometimes the luck of this blogger.)

Further along, I spotted a gentleman measuring a mature plane tree.  He knew all about the Ancient Tree project, but he was employed to protect from development those at risk from the bulldozer.  He said he had been born in Clapham but had moved to Woking which was ‘becoming like Clapham now’.  Clapham is, of course, far more upmarket in the present than in his day.

Norman produced an exceedingly fine lamb shank first course followed by an apricot and almond sponge flan.  Fortunately the barolo we drank was superb, because I had given it to him.

I took my usual route to Carol’s and afterwards back to Southampton where my carriage awaited. Harvest moon We were tracked all the way home by a magnificent harvest moon.

The Abdication

Photographing living sculptureJackie drove me to and from Southampton for my trip to London to visit first Norman, then Carol.

I chose the Golden Jubilee Bridge route to walk to Green Park.

The South Bank living sculpture I had photographed on 18th June had, as usual, caught the eye of another lens wielder.

Making my way to the bridge I became aware of how, from certain directions,  London’s modern Eye can dwarf the older structures that tourists come to picture.

London Eye masking parliament

Pigeons on Golden Jubilee BridgeOn one of the supports of the railway bridge a pair of pigeons, possibly having produced fertiliser for an optimistic maple that had taken root beside them, slumbered in apparent ignorance of the lumbering locomotives behind them.

Passing The Playhouse theatre at Charing Cross, I was treated to the strains of Spamalot’s ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’, being broadcast into the street. Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life That truly hilarious song from the Monty Python ‘Life of Brian’ film of 1979 could so easily have been blasphemous, but somehow managed to avoid it.

Nelson's columnPiperNear Trafalgar Square, where Admiral Lord Nelson keeps his single eye on an era he could not have dreamed of whilst saving the English nation at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805, one of Westminster Bridge’s lone pipers had found a new pitch.

Empty plinth

The empty plinth, which periodically provides a temporary pedestal for pieces of modern sculpture, awaits its next tenant.

Dancer

A silent male dancer entertained the crowds beneath the National Gallery. They gave him quite a lot of breathing space.

Sightseeing tour queue

On Pall Mall vast throngs, some looking rather disgruntled, queued for what would perforce be a very leisurely sightseeing tour through London’s traffic.

In my Central London years I often shopped in Jermyn Street at sales time.  I am no longer tempted because I still wear shirts bought there up to three or four decades ago.  Hawes & CurtisIn addition to Cary Grant, Hawes & Curtis are featuring Edward VIII and Mrs. Simpson hoping to attract prospective customers to take advantage of  their large reductions.  In his brief tenure this playboy king provoked a constitutional crisis in 1936 by his determination to marry his twice divorced lover.  In that bygone age this was acceptable neither to the Church nor the State.  He therefore chose to abdicate and thrust his younger brother onto centre stage.  A reluctant and shy monarch, King George VI, despite a dreadful stutter, with his wife Elizabeth, saw us nobly through the war years and, in 1952, died young, making way for our current long-serving queen.  Colin Firth was awarded a well earned Oscar for his spellbinding performance in the 2010 film ‘The King’s Speech’ which follows King George’s struggles to find his voice.  One has to wonder how the shirt-makers chose their particular icons.

Green Park

In Green Park those who can still comfortably get down to ground level eschewed the deck chairs and sat on the grass.

For lunch, Norman served tender kleftiko, savoury rice, red cabbage and mixed vegetables followed by apricot flan.  In anticipation of my forthcoming birthday he provided a superb Primitivo di Manduria wine of 2010.

I took my usual transport to Carol’s and thence to Waterloo for the return journey.  On the train, with the back of my hand, I managed to slap a sleeping young woman beside me on the thigh.  As she dozed, the pen with which she had been writing rolled off the table.  I used my marvellous reflexes in an attempt to prevent it from falling to the floor between our seats.  The thigh got in the way, and the ballpoint disappeared into the dark recess, so I was forced to slip my arm down the gap to retrieve it.  My co-passenger woke up with a start and was very good about it.

A Different Mother Each Day

After Jackie delivered me to Southampton Parkway for my trip to visit Norman, my train journey was almost uneventful.  No doubt taking the Quiet zone notices literally, a taciturn young man opposite me, sporting an attenuated Mohican that had recently been mown, said nothing and did not take his eyes off the screen of his DELL laptop, even when I asked him to allow me to place my book on the table.  Spread all over the surface, he drew the device about two centimetres towards himself.  For form’s sake, and in order not to lose face, I positioned my book half way on to the table’s edge under the forward-leaning p.c.’s seemingly invertebrate lid, and read a page or two before shifting my seat from the aisle to the window where there was no-one opposite.  I was not being difficult sitting opposite the man.  I don’t have leg room on the inside seats if someone does come and sit opposite, whereas, as long as I pull them in when someone passes I can stick them in the gangway.  Of the three laptop users sharing the table on the return journey, two were asleep before we reached Winchester, and the other’s DELL was not spineless.

Big Ben & London Eye

From the terminal station, keeping an Eye on Big Ben, I crossed Waterloo Bridge, skirted Covent Garden, and wandered into Bloomsbury, passing James Smith’s magnificent umbrella shop where I had bought the brolly stolen from the stairs of our flat in Horse & Dolphin Yard mentioned on 9th February this year.

James-Smith-window

H & D silly faceIncidentally, Becky, who has many memories of that Soho residence, on 30th June 2008 sent me a photograph of Flo taken beneath the yard’s street sign during a nostalgic visit.

From Bloomsbury I returned via Tottenham Court Road to Oxford Street, the New version of which I had crossed, and weaved in and out among the whole world’s populace to Bond Street tube station where I boarded a train to Neasden.  The main difference between Westminster Bridge and Oxford Street, in terms of the crush of people, is that Westminster Bridge is shorter.  Perhaps that is the better route after all.

Shortly before I reached Neasden, as an elderly man wearing a cross put his bible away in preparation for departure, a young woman, carrying a comatose child dangling from a sling like a puppet on a string, walked the length of the carriage placing a printed notice on each of the many vacant seats.  She then retraced her steps in a not very enthusiastic effort to collect the money the message claimed she needed.  Empty handed, she gathered up all her slips of paper and moved on to the next compartment.  My fellow passenger, clearly a kind man, said how difficult it was to determine genuine need.  I offered the observation that the infant was probably not hers, but agreed that it was very problematic and not a very comfortable way for the woman to make a living.  This, however, is a scam I have seen so much of in the London Underground that I have become sadly cynical.  I also experience some guilt when I do not offer help.  Finsbury Park’s station entrance described in my post of 14th June 2012 was notorious when I frequented it in the ’80s and ’90s.  The apparently sleeping three year old flopping in a buggy had a different mother each day.

A display on South Bank for the amusement of those crossing the bridge enabled me to pay lip service to the week’s gardening theme.  A roof was being swept by a woman in curlers and a rather short hoodie, seemingly created from grass cuttings.  South Bank CentreA winding string of coloured wheelbarrows containing floral baskets could been seen below.

For lunch Norman provided duck in plum sauce followed by bread and butter pudding.  We shared a bottle of excellent Rioja.

I finished reading John Guy’s ‘The Tudor Age’ section of The Oxford Illustrated History of Britain, and began John S. Morrill’s ‘The Stuarts’ before arriving back at Southampton where my driver was waiting.