When you find out that something is only open on Sundays, and the Mondays following the first and third Sunday (provided they aren’t holidays, and then only for two hours), with some Monday evenings at extra cost, you don’t pass up the chance to go. So, on the Monday following the third Sunday of July, as I was still in London, I decided to go along just after 12 noon to see what all the fuss was about.
Dennis Severs, who died on December 27 1999 had purchased this house in the then run-down area of Spitalfields back in 1979. He created a set of ‘atmospheres’ in each of the ten rooms of the house, bringing together sight, sound and smells to create a unique experience. The basic premise is that you are arriving and looking around the house just as its fictional early 18th century occupants have, for no obvious reason, departed. In each room you see the signs of their presence, half eaten food, fruit, ruffled blankets, unmade beds, candles, smouldering fires. Images of the family hung on the walls intersperse with items from the pictures being real and visible within the rooms.
It would be really easy to complain about the slightly over-earnest signage, encouraging you to embrace the artist’s vision, and the over domineering instructions about not touching things. And, for me, not being able to take photographs was a bit of a shame, though it would pretty muchdestroy the atmosphere.
Instead though, go with it, and this proves to be a unique experience which is difficult to describe in words. It really does seem like someone has left the house moments before, and the presence of a house cat (Madge, a new arrival in 2008 after the original Madge passed away in 2007). She was curled up on a chair when I went round, and at first you wouldn’t have realised she was real. It seems like a good job for a cat, and I wondered if they needed a resident bear. Not for me obviously, I’m busy enough already, but Cousin Ginger spends all of his time loafing around back in the Midlands and could do with a purpose.
Just before his death in 1999 Dennis’s house was sold to the Spitalfields Trust. At the time of his death several obituaries were of the opinion that the house couldn’t continue without the artist. This one from the Guardian for example:
Shortly before he died two days after Christmas, ravaged by cancer, bravely borne, after long being HIV-positive, his house was bought by the Spitalfields Trust, but it is hard to see how his creation can be sustained.
“Sadly,” Dennis wrote, “I have recently come to accept what I refused to accept for so long: that the house is only ephemeral. That no one can put a preservation order on atmosphere.” Certainly not now Dennis Severs has gone to join the Jervises.
The fact I was able to go earlier this week shows just how wrong that was. This is in no small part down to the work of Mick Pedroli, who greeted us into the house when we arrived, and manages things. I’d thoroughly recommend a visit if you get the chance, and you can read more on their website.
Thursday. What to do? With my Monument quest over, and my desire to learn about clocks satiated, what else was left to do in London? Well lots, of course, but in the end I decided it was time to pay a visit to two of the locations used in the Harry Potter films for the entrance to the wizarding alehouse ‘The Leaky Cauldron’.
Two? you ask. Well yes. In the first film the exterior of the pub was filmed in the Leadenhall market area (very close to where Steve is working) at 42 Bulls Head Passage. It’s now a glasses shop (to see with rather than drink with), and painted blue – it was black for the film. Parts of the nearby area were also used for some of the exterior shots of Diagon Alley apparently. Anyway, picture number one for today is me sat outside the shop.
For whatever reason, by the time we got to film three, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the location used was to change. The new Cauldron stands beneath the railway bridge on Stoney Street opposite Borough Market. 7 Stoney Street became the Cauldron, while number 8, alongside, was transformed into the Third Hand Book Emporium. So obviously this was my second stop, just 15-20 minutes walk down past Monument, and across London Bridge.
Since both locations were only the exteriors used, there was nothing much else to see at either of them, which makes you wonder how so many companies can get away with offering ‘Harry Potter’ themed walks. There is platform 9¾ at Kings Cross Station (which now that I’ve started on the HP trail I’m going to have to visit at some point), but that’s quite a distance away. In the first film London Zoo was the location for the scene where Harry realises he can speak in parseltongue, and Gringotts Bank was the interior of Australia House (which isn’t generally open to the public). So, I’m not sure I’d recommend a Harry Potter walk really, but what do I know?
Of course we’re still waiting for the last book’s two films, but up to now The Leaky Cauldron has been mentioned in all of them, and shown in all but two. Now in the Harry Potter world The Leaky Cauldron is said to have been built by Daisy Dodderidge, who was the first landlady, in 1500. To Muggles, the pub appears as a broken-down old shop front on Charing Cross Road (another location popular on the Harry Potter walks, even though the things described in the books as there aren’t). The rear of the pub, however, opens up onto a chilly courtyard and the entrance to Diagon Alley. To gain access, a witch or wizard taps the bricks in the wall in a counter-clockwise order. A doorway to Diagon Alley then forms which then re-arranges back to the original wall after the person(s) walk through. In reality, although the area has been used as a market since around the 14th century, and has a history dating back to Roman times, the actual location in Leadenhall Market was only built in 1881 when the area was redeveloped.
Borough Market, the area for the later film location, has been a site for food sellers going as far back as 1014, and possibly earlier, though I wasn’t able to find out how old the actual building used was. The market though is pretty good, and lunch was fine.
Today I decided it was time to tie up the loose ends from the last two days of lunchtime excitement.
You may recall that during my visit to the Monument, I had discovered that there was in fact a smaller memorial to the point where the fire was finally contained and stopped. This is the Golden Boy of Pye Corner, and it’s on the corner of Giltspur Street and Cock Lane in Smithfield, London, opposite St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. At the time Charles II’s court was somewhat anti-papal, largely because nobody could understand why a grown man would walk around all day in a big white baggy dress. So one way or another, some people felt, the Catholics were to blame. They, conversely, though this was a little unjust, and so announced that the real cause of the Fire was, of course, gluttony. This was, of course, obvious, when you consider the fire started in Pudding Lane and ended in Pie Street, though of course were it really gluttony, it would have been the other way round, and finished with pudding.
The statue was erected on the side of a pub called ‘The Fortune of War’, one of London’s more disreputable sites (it is said that the old pub’s landlord acted as a go-between for local bodysnatchers and surgeons from the hospital), and had the following inscription ‘This Boy is in Memmory Put up for the late FIRE of LONDON Occasion’d by the Sin of Gluttony’, spelling and grammar not being strong points in those days. The statue was intended as a warning to future generations, and clearly didn’t work.
The pub itself was demolished in 1910 but the statue remains. Not on it’s own, mysteriously floating where a wall used to be, but attached instead to a wall at the Western end of the Merrill Lynch Financial Centre. And that’s where I saw it. It’s really not terribly impressive, but visiting does mean I can rest soundly after my visit to Monument on Monday.
So onto the next piece of unfinished business. Apparently the City of London approached the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers when they were building a vent for the London Underground. Having decided not to try to hide the vent, ‘but to make a feature of it by the careful planting of trees and climbing plants, subtle lighting and the addition of an unusual and eye-catching clock’, where else would they go?
Horologist and designer Joanna Migdal was commissioned to design the clock, and later led the efforts to raise funds for it. To celebrate the 375th anniversary of the founding of the company, their coat of arms was to be included in the design.
The finished design was erected in 1997 (it would be churlish to point out that this is a year after the 375th anniversary), and is an unusual ‘wandering hour’ timepiece. Reading the time is reasonably easy; the current hour can be seen in black Roman numerals in the upper part of the dial. The minutes are the dots above and below the blue aperture, with the quarter hours (0 / 15 / 30 / 45 / 60 minutes) additionally identified. At each hour, the relevant hour numeral rises at the left side of the blue aperture and gradually “wanders” its way around the blue section until it disappears on the right. As it travels, two small black markers above and below it point to the minutes. As one hour sets on the right, the next hour rises on the left. The time in the picture therefore is just after 10 past 1. If that’s not clear, then you can read more here.
The clock was pretty cool really, but it’s just a weird place for it. It’s kind of in the middle of a trafic island, so you have to cross the road to see it properly, and there’s nothing (I could see) to say what it is nearby. But, you can tell the time with it, which makes it far more useful than the golden pie boy.
Now that I’ve closed both Monday & Tuesday’s loose ends, what on earth will I be going to do tomorrow?
Tuesday, and I needed somewhere else to go in the lunch hour, having been up Monument yesterday. So, I decided it was time to visit the world famous Clockmakers’ Museum & Library, which resides inside the Guildhall Library, and has the added bonus of free entry.
Apparently, having begun in 1814 this is the ‘ oldest collection specifically of clocks and watches in the world’. One might presume therefore that there is an older collection not specfically of clocks and watches?
The collection belongs to the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers, one of the London Livery companies of which the Mercers, who sponsor our local Bloxwich Academy, are the first in order of precedence. The Clockmakers rank 61st apparently.
The museum sits in a single room to the left as you enter the Guildhall library, and is unmanned. It’s not very big, but it does have lot of watches, clocks and other time keeping related things. And it’s quite noisy on the hour.
Obviously the fact the museum in unmanned prevents one walking in and asking if they have the time, which is a shame, as I’m sure that would be really funny for anyone working there. Although the museum is quite small, it was pretty interesting, and well worth a short visit. I found out that a couple of years ago, as part of their 375th anniversary (they were founded in 1631) they presented a very large and unique clock to the City, called, descriptively, the Newgate Street Clock. This is on display close to St. Paul’s (in Newgate, if you hadn’t guessed), so that’s another visit I’m going to have to make, at which time I’ll tell you all about it.
Just outside the museum there is a glass display case (which you could easily miss) which contains a display from another of the livery companies, the 75th in order of precedence. Any guesses?
Yes, it’s the Worshipful Company of Makers of Playing Cards which was founded in 1628 and granted livery in 1792. They now, amongst other things, organise an annual inter-livery Bridge competition, which is possibly why London has so many of them crossing the Thames. Now where am I going to go next?
Apparently there was a big fire in London, but it was such a long time ago that hardly anyone can remember it. And, because the people then thought that people after them should remember it they decided to build a big tower to remind everyone. And that, apparently, is (the) Monument. So if you thought it was named after the tube station that’s right next door you were wrong, and it is of course the other way around.
So, on my first day in London I decided it would be a good idea to pop along (and up) to see it. The lady at the entrance said it was built between 1671 and 1677, which I thought was a bit poor, you’d think she’d know exactly really wouldn’t you? 311 steps later and I was at the top, from where you can see, well, not that far really, since all the other buildings are quite tall. But you can see the Gherkin, and along the river, and across to the top of St. Paul’s. You can see the views online without paying £3 and climbing because they have regularly updated webcam images on their website.
It is, so I was told, the tallest stone column in the world. Its 202 feet in height mark the distance from the monument to where the fire started. Luckily it wasn’t built much closer to where the fire started, in Pudding Lane, otherwise it would have been much shorter and really not at all impressive. It was co-designed by Christopher Wren, who was friends with Winnie the Pooh when he was a little boy, and when the tower was first complete he would stand at the top with his friends watching poohsticks on the nearby river.
Looking towards the Gherkin
Apparently there is another monument which marks the point where the fire stopped, so I’m going to have to try to find that. It’s called the ‘Golden Boy of Pye Corner’, but obviously isn’t as good as the Monument, since there’s not a tube station named after it, which is just as well as otherwise you’d never be able to print it on one of those small pocket sized maps you can get at most stations.
Nurseries have been told to remove teddy bears and other soft toys from the children in their care to help to contain the spread of swine flu. This, according to The Times is the latest advice from the Department for Children, Schools and Families. Apparently, they say, soft toys cannot be cleaned effectively. Well I’ve seen some of these government types, and I reckon I’m a lot cleaner, and the only reason I might be more likely to pass on any kind of illness is because people are far more likely to touch me than say Gordon Brown.
Now, I’m not suggesting that Gordon isn’t clean, but here are some pictures of him:
Now, notice that he seems to own a large number of primary colour ties, but only one shirt and jacket. And it’s probably dry clean only (which, for the record, I’m not) so it’s not like he could wash it every day. Riffy or what, and probably a real swine flu risk. In fact, there have been people linked to the government who have had swine flu, wheras nobody I know has had it yet.
Now, for comparison, consider some pictures of me:
Now apart from the obvious fact that I’m much cuter and better looking, notice how my outfits vary. That’s because I always wear clean clothes. And, my fur goes in the washing machine, which I bet Gordon doesn’t. So, the only reason he might not be a swine flu risk seems to me to be that nobody would really want to pick him up and cuddle him.
So I think he, and his government departments, should just lay off me and my kind and go and buy some new clothes.
Honestly, this whole thing is jut getting out of hand, as my mate Piglet was telling me earlier:
I don’t remember it, because I’m not old enough, but apparently in the old days (up to the late 1980′s) they used to finish the news summary on the evening television schedules with a ‘silly’ story that would usually make people smile. That all seemed to stop as the demand for round the clock news grew. No doubt someone, possibly badged as a media expert, would tell you that this was all down to what the consumer wanted, or, if he/she was a particularly enthusiastic expert, the words demanded or even needed would likely have been used.
Well, today let’s look at the BBC News website. In particular let’s look at the top 5 most read stories right now:
1. Teenage girl with swine flu dies
2. Gerrard ‘struck with boxer speed’
3. Facebook same name couple to wed
4. ‘Glass ceiling’ blocking top jobs
5. Oldest UK television discovered
Of these, at least two are really quite trivial. The Facebook couple choosing to marry after ‘meeting’ online becaue they share the same name, and the story of the oldest TV being found are hardly going to change the world. But, they’re popular. So, why when we watch the News at Ten, do we generally ignore such stories?
I particularly like the oldest TV story today. Especially finding out that this single channel box (only the BBC existed when it was made) has a freeview box and signal convertor plugged into it.
So, I decided to try and fnd the most trivial story linked from the BBC front page today.
And, I found the perfect story. It combines sport with news from a foreign country. Yes, it’s the Swamp Football World Championships. Relegated to Newsround. When I mentioned it Steve got all dewy eyed and mentioned some bloke called John Craven. Did he once play Swamp Football I asked? He just looked at me funny. Wouldn’t it be great if this was the headline story on tonight’s BBC News?
Well, it’s a tall order I know, but if we were to all contact them and ask, maybe it will be.
I’m relying on you and will be sitting down later in front of my TV with a small glass of wine to celebrate the moment. Don’t let me down!
I was watching TV this evening, on satellite, so there were lots of adverts. Lots and lots. But, have you noticed just how many of them have small print at the bottom?
Tonight I’d like to introduce a new ‘fantastic’ beauty product to you. It’s some kind of product from Garnier, who used to be called Laboratoire Garnier in one of their many attempts to sound terribly scientific. Garnier is owned by L’Oreal (UK) Limited, a quite large company by any standards. Their net profit in 2007 was some €2,656 which makes my pocket money look trivial I can tell you. Garnier Fructis is apparently the preferred product of 89% of people. Sounds impressive doesn’t it, until you read the small print. Yes, 89% of a massive sample of 37 people. Honestly. So they found 33 people who liked it and 4 who didn’t. Perhaps an office poll at lunchtime?
Now Garnier was once something of a niche product at L’Oreal, but was given a larger profile with a big advertising spend in recent years. Fructis had a $110 million budget for 2004 for example, and yet they could only find 37 people prepared to comment on the product. Boy that must have taken some effort. I reckon I could do better in one afternoon in Bloxwich. We got roughly 4 times as many people for our Rotary Stroke Awareness Day with a budget of more like 110 pence. So,why? Since we can assume that the cost of a proper survey can’t be beyond a company like L’Oreal one can only assume that they are really just making it up as they go along, or that the product is actually so rubbish they have to stick with asking people in the office who risk losing their jobs if they answer incorrectly. Or, and probably far more likely, they know most people will just listen to the headline, so basically it doesn’t matter.
Well, I’m only one bear, but I decided to try New (they’re always New, have you noticed) Garnier Fructis Style Flexihold Hairspray. Apparently it’s the first Fructis Style hairspray that is enriched with bamboo to give your style flexibility and hold. The result is supposed to be long-lasting hold and natural movement for a style that bounces back into place. The ultra-fine mocro (yes, mocro, possibly a spelling mistake, or one of their common new words which sounds a bit like an old word and a little hi-tech) diffusion spray creates a fine mist that dries instantly and gives a perfect finish. If you don’t believe me look here. Anyway, this morning when I got up I thought I looked pretty dapper, so I decided to try some. I sprayed it all over my fur. It made me sneeze, and it also left a nasty sticky stain over my eyes, which, if I’d been able to blink, I’d've closed first. But, to be fair, my fur stayed in place. Not that it’s ever really gone anywhere before. I don’t think it particularly shined though. I tried angling myself under a light to see if there would be a reflection on the ceiling, but there wasn’t, and when I got caught in the rain this afternoon, all my fur kind of flattened into a sticky mess so I had to have a shower when I got back.
So, if I’m completely honest, Fructis, in all of it’s various forms, is clearly not for me. Perhaps of the 37 respondents, 4 were in fact bears? Who knows. But, if there’s any need for any further surveying, I’m offering my services now, for a small fee obviously.
I feel it is my duty today to spread the news on the terrible and dangerous risk that is the big wheelie bin.
The BBC carried a story today about a 35 year old man from London who had been found crushed to death after climbing into one. Apparently he had been seen drinking until 1:00am the night before. The supposition is that being incredibly drunk he inadvertently climbed into the bin and went to sleep, and then got crushed when it was emtpied on Monday morning. A tragic accident I’m sure you’ll agree, and a great loss to humanity to lose such a talent. I mean, how many people do you know who could climb into a wheelie bin when very very drunk?
Quite how such a talent could have been harnessed will now probably never be discovered.
But, how can it be prevented from happening again? Well, the GMB union have suggested that people look inside the bins before emptying them. Obviously this would work, but it would be quite slow, and what if the person checking leant in a little too far and fell in themselves?
Brighton & Hove council deserve credit for having realised the danger already, and must surely be commended for their efforts. A council spokesman said “This is a tragic incident. The council has warned people not to get into our bins and have put stickers on the 700 street bins.” Sadly, it seems people who are drunk enough to climb into a wheelie bin instead of bed don’t necessarily pay heed to warning stickers.
So, I have several suggestions. The first is to have a timed lock on them. I believe Troy, one of our club members, could provide such a thing, which could lock at say 8pm (they get drunk quite early in that London) and not open until just before the bins are collected. A second, and back-up suggestion, is to make them very uncomfortable inside. Or, we could go back to bin bags. No-one ever climbed into one of them. Well, no-one except the ladies out of Toto Coelo:
They were a one-hit wonder from the 1980′s and they often fell into bin bags instead of wearing proper clothes. If you want a laugh you can watch one of their Top of the Pops performances on You Tube:
And remember, wheelie bins: rubbish in, people out.
Well it took me a while, but I’ve finally managed to get the lazy I.T. people at the Rotary Club of Bloxwich Phoenix to set up my blog site again. Service has been quite poor recently, and I’ve had to be a bit tetchy to get things done, which is really not like me. Not at all.
It’s quite late now, 20 to midnight local time, so I’m quite tired. I’ve got loads of things to tell you about, but I do need my furry sleep, so you’re all going to have to wait I’m afraid. If you’re not happy, and who could blame you, you could always complain profusely at www.bloxwichphenix.net/contact.htm and tell them I sent you. I’ll be over it by tomorrow, but right now I’m so annoyed my fur is on end. They told me it would only take ten minutes, and that was at 7pm. Tsk. And so, now, goodnight…
