Tigger said she wanted to go and see Moda. Who’s that? I wondered to myself but it later turned out to be a what? not a who? Either way, we were disappointed as Moda wasn’t where we thought it was.

The King’s Cross dome
Part of the newly redesigned King’s Cross station

We were going to take the Piccadilly Line to Oakwood, so we went down to King’s Cross (the Piccadilly Line doesn’t run through Angel), intending to have breakfast on the way. But where?

Caffè Nero
Their porridge needs a little work

There is a Caffè Nero on the corner of St Pancras station where Pancras Road runs into Euston Road. We had heard that they now served porridge. We bought coffee and croissants to go with it. All I can say is that though they may make “the best espresso this side of Milan”, as it says on their shirts, their porridge needs a little work. It had the consistency of soup.

Oakwood station
Last stop but one on the Piccadilly Line

The tube journey to Oakwood is a longish one (though there are far longer routes on the Metropolitan Line) and this station is the last one before the terminus at Cockfosters. (If you want to follow the route on a tube map, this map has a nice “Find Station” function but is rather small-scale while this other map is of a larger scale but you have to look up the station’s grid reference on page 2.)

Oakwood station hall
Unusually large for a suburban station

Oakwood station, opened in 1933 as part of the Piccadilly Line extension to Cockfosters, was designed by Charles Holden and has an unusually large entrance hall extending over the tracks. Its historical importance is enough to have gained it the status of a listed building. The Underground sign in the street in front is also a little bit special.

Underground Sign
Outside Oakwood station (note the pigeon-deterrent spikes)

This is one of the older designs of what is known as the London Underground roundel. It was designed around 1817-8 by Edward Johnson, a typographer, and continued in use, with variations, throughout the 1920s into the 1930s. (The modern logo lacks the white dashes and the letters are all of the same height.) There are several different versions visible on the network today and it’s good that the older ones have been allowed to remain, telling their story, as it were.

Trent Park Mansion
Today a campus of the University of Middlesex

I now learnt that Moda was to be found at Trent Park and that if we waited in front of the station, by and by a shuttle bus would come and take us there. Moda or “MoDA” turned out to be the Museum of Domestic Design and Architecture and was said to be hanging out at the campus of the University of Middlesex.

The Old Stables
Pretty fine accommodation for the horses

The shuttle came and we boarded. The small bus ran down the picturesquely named Snake Lane and deposited us beside the Old Stables. There are no horses there now and the building is used for other purposes. It’s a fine building with its own clock tower and it would have been interesting to see it in the days when it served as a stables for the house.

Extensive parkland
Once Enfield Chase, a royal hunting forest

Long ago, Trent Park was a royal hunting forest but was given to a Dr Richard Jebb by George III for services rendered. Thus it entered into private ownership and finally came into the hands of Middlesex County Council (1952). During World War Two, the house was requisitioned as an interrogation centre for captured enemy airmen. Today, it is one of the several campuses of Middlesex University.

Sphinxes and statues
Signs of an elegant past

We searched around the building and the immediate area but although we found some interesting traces of the house’s past, including sphinxes and statues, MoDA was nowhere to the seen.

An artwork, presumably
And an impromptu coat rack

There was a reception area and while Tigger was enquiring for the whereabouts of MoDA, I spotted this artwork (presumably) and photographed it, trying to decide what it was. A dinosaur skeleton, perhaps? There was no identifying plate or notice. Someone has apparently decided to use it as a coat rack.

The open area in front of the house…
…looks as if there might once have been a fountain in the middle

It turned out that MoDA was no longer here. That’s why we couldn’t find it. We should have checked before setting out, perhaps. We returned to the Old Stables to wait for the little white shuttle bus to take us back to Oakwood station.

Enfield Market Square
It was market day

We continued on by bus to Enfield, hoping to find something to see or do there. We found that it was market day and the Market Square was full of stalls. I had photographed the Market House on a previous visit when the square was empty (see A look at Enfield). Today it was surrounded, like a mother hen surrounded by her chicks.

Dugdale Centre, Enfield
Closed today

Hearing that Enfield Museum Service has an area in the Dugdale Centre in Thomas Hardy House, we went along, hoping to take a look. Although there was a friendly information officer on duty, the rest of the Centre was closed, so we drew another blank.

Time for coffee
And to plan our next move

We retired to Caffè Nero for coffee and a rest and to decide what to do next. The cafe was quite busy, perhaps because the market had brought people into town or just because it was Saturday.

Where the bus brought us
Our first sight of the Island

We decided to take a bus ride to Enfield River Island. Whether or not this is strictly speaking an island or a “virtual island”, I am not entirely sure but it seems near enough one, bordered  by the River Lee, the Navigation Canal and the Cattlegate Flood Relief Channel. This map will give you a better idea of the layout.

The Royal Small Arms Factory
This gave the area its historic importance

The Island is historically important because it was here that in 1818 the Royal Small Arms Factory was opened. This was the most important production centre for British small arms, creating some of the most famous army weapons such as the Lee-Enfield bolt-action rifle and the Sten gun. The factory closed in 1988 and the Island began to be developed for housing.

The Buffalo Cafe-Bar-Bistro
Back to Enfield for a late lunch

It was quite cold, and as there didn’t seem to be a lot to see anyway, we took the bus back to Enfield where we had a late lunch in a cafe called Buffalo in Southbury Street.

After this, perhaps discouraged by not managing to see what we had wanted to see, we decided to return home. We took a train to Liverpool Street and the bus from there. It had been a slightly low-key day, though we had seen a few interesting things and places, and perhaps we shall return another time a bit better prepared!

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

Tigger had a day off from work today and we of course determined to put it to good use. Weekday outings have advantages over weekend outings but also some disadvantages. The main disadvantage is that buses and trains are crowded, especially at certain times of day. On the other hand, the transport system is running well (no dratted “scheduled engineering works”), shops and cafes are open and, best of all, the interesting places we may wish to visit are not as packed out as they are likely to be during the weekend.

The line terminates here
No weekend crowds

We took a bus to Waterloo, bought baguettes and coffee, and jumped aboard a train. It was a rather grey, chilly day, right for indoor visits rather than for wandering about in the open. Our destination was at the terminus, so there was no risk of missing our stop!

The understated Hampton Court station
What would Cardinal Wolsey have thought of it?

Our destination lay at the terminus of the line at what seems a rather understated little station in view of the noble name that it bears. We had come to visit Hampton Court Palace, once the habitation of monarchs and today a national treasure and tourist attraction.

Hampton Court Bridge
The bridge leads you to the palace

Within sight of the station is Hampton Court Bridge. This is the fourth bridge on this site. The first was built in the mid-18th century at what was then a ferry crossing. The current bridge was opened in July 1933 by the Prince Of Wales, later to be King Edward VIII. Twickenham Bridge and Chiswick Bridge were also opened at the same time. I do not know how often it has happened that three bridges have been opened together in a single ceremony.

The Gate to Hampton Court Palace
It is decorated with heraldic figures

A short walk from the end of the bridge brings you to the gates of Hampton Court Palace. The four gate posts are decorated with heraldic figures.

People often refer to the palace simply as “Hampton Court” but really, we should refer to it as “Hampton Court Palace”. This is because the immediate area is also called Hampton Court (as is the railway station) and because there is another Hampton Court, also called Hampton Court Castle, in Herefordshire.

Approaching the palace
The view from inside the gate

Hampton Court Palace is, or rather was, a royal residence from Tudor times until George II. Today it is managed, along with the Tower of London, the Banqueting House, Kensington Palace and Kew Palace, by a charity called Historic Royal Palaces. Much of it is open to the public (there is an admission charge) but some parts are closed, including the “grace and favour” apartments that are still occupied. There is also accommodation available for visitors who wish to stay overnight.

The Great Gate House
Guarded by heraldic beasts, this time in stone

It must be said straightaway that the Palace is not only vast but is also complex. Imagine two palaces, one Tudor and the other Baroque, and now imagine that someone has jammed them into one another, like two icebergs colliding. That gives you some idea of the architectural entanglement of the Palace. Successive waves of building have added new parts or altered existing ones, according to the needs and fads of the inhabitants.

Mythical heraldic beast
A chimaera like the Palace

The Manor of Hampton was acquired in the 13th century by the Knights Hospitallers who had a grange on the site but it also came to be used as a staging post and guest house for royal visitors. Its first use as a residence  came in 1494 when it was leased to Giles Daubeney, Lord Chamberlain to Henry VII, who needed a residence near the royal court.

Moulded and painted ceiling
Great Gate House

A pivotal moment in the history of Hampton Court came in 1514 when the Knights Hospitallers assigned a 99-year lease on the property to Thomas Wolsey, then Archbishop of York, and an ambitious politician rising quickly up the hierarchy. Wolsey was to become a Cardinal and a close associate of Henry VIII and now set about building a residence that suited his rank and ambitions. Thus came into being the Tudor Palace of Hampton Court.

The Clock Court
Dominated by its huge astronomical clock

Wolsey was playing for high stakes, a dangerous game which he ultimately lost. Charged with obtaining the Pope’s permission for Henry to divorce his first wife, Katherine, on the grounds that she had not produced a male heir, Wolsey failed and fell into disfavour. In 1528, Wolsey was disgraced and Henry snatched both Hampton Court Palace and Wolsey’s other property in London, York place.

The Astronomical Clock
Made for Henry VIII in 1540

Wolsey’s final downfall occurred in 1530 when he was accused of treason and arrested near York. Summoned to London, Wolsey must have known that he faced imprisonment, a humiliating trial and at last, an appointment with the executioner, sharing the fate of all those who incurred Henry’s displeasure. Sensibly, Wolsey died on the journey back to London.

A vexatious encounter
Entrance to King Henry’s state apartments

Crossing the Clock Court (whose clock, incidentally, reflects the medieval belief that the sun revolves around the earth), we arrived at the entrance to King Henry’s state apartments. We found a gaggle of people waiting and, as we had heard there were to be some free guided tours, we waited with them. We were subsequently met and taken in hand by two ladies of King Henry’s court.

The Queen’s Staircase and its lamp
Named after Queen Mary II whose state apartments these would have

been had she not died before they were completed

These were of course re-enactors impersonating historical personages and they treated us to all the court gossip while leading us inside and up the great staircase. Personally, I find this irksome and artificial, especially when they buttonhole members of the public and address them as though they are themselves members of the court. Tigger seemed to enjoy it, though, so I spent my time nosing around, taking photos and avoiding vexatious encounters with “The King” who happened by at one point.

The landing
Many of the tapestries have been taken away for cleaning

In some places, the walls give the impression of being stage sets because they are painted to give a trompe-l’œil effect. This is because many of the tapestries have been taken down for cleaning – winter, when there are fewer tourists, is the best time for this. Similarly, some of the best rooms – such as the Great Hall – were closed and we had to give them a miss.

First-floor gallery
This leads to the King’s apartments

While the Tudor court ladies were twittering in the gallery, I explored and took some photos. Note the handsome red coats worn by the wardens, as they are called. More about that shortly.

Royal marriage contract
Between Kateryn Parr and Henry VIII

As I skulked around avoiding poseurs in Tudor costume, my attention was caught by this display. It is the contract, though only a copy, of the marriage between Henry VIII and Kateryn Parr (as her name is there spelt). I was interested because my maternal ancestors are also called Parr and one of my relatives is convinced that we are “descended from” the Queen of England. Personally, I am unconvinced as there are many sources of the name Parr (German and French as well as English) and “my lot” seem to have come from Ireland sometime in the 19th century.

The Great Watching Chamber
Magnificent but missing its tapestries

The Great Hall is said to be splendid but it is currently closed to the public for cleaning and refurbishment. We were taken instead to the Great Watching Chamber. Getting an unobstructed view proved difficult as the two Tudor ladies were holding court at one end. This room (missing its tapestries at the moment) has served various purposes in its time.

The gilded ceiling
An ostentatious display of opulence

The decor of the room leaves no doubt that it was intended to impress visitors with the ostentatious display of the owner’s wealth and therefore power.

Stained glass windows
Colourful heraldic designs

These tall stained glass windows have an almost ecclesiastical look to them except that the designs are based on heraldry to please and flatter the royal eye.

Red coat and cape
Friendly and helpful and splendidly dressed

As we returned down the Queen’s Staircase, a lady warden was kind enough to pose for us. You can see the red coat with its crest and, on the chair, the black cape that she had been wearing earlier when I met her on outside duty. Wardens are issued with two coats, a lighter one for summer and a heavier one for winter. All the wardens we met were friendly and ready to talk about the Palace and about their duties. This was informative and added to the interest and pleasure of the visit.

Door of the Chapel Royal
Photography not allowed within

Photography is allowed everywhere in the Palace except in the Chapel Royal. I am not sure why this is. The Chapel is still used as a place of worship but I don’t think that is the reason. The chapel is certainly one of the most remarkable and beautiful parts of the building. Whether or not you are religious, you can appreciate the magnificence of the furnishings and decor. It is certainly a sight not to be missed by the visitor. The motto seen here – DIEU ET MON DROIT – is seen everywhere in the Tudor palace.

The Fountain Court
One of the more tranquil open spaces

After a cup of tea in the cafe, which is sited in part of the original Palace kitchens, we continued our tour, this time without the company of pseudo Tudors.

Tudor servants
One taking a drink and one a little worse for wear

Passing through the outer court, we came upon a couple of Tudor Palace servants taking a break from their no doubt onerous duties. One was enjoy a jug of ale while the other looked as though he had had a little too much already. Either that or he was stopping the Palace from falling over…

Baroque Fancy
The apartments of William III

Hampton Court Palace, having been greatly extended and elaborated by Henry VIII, passed to his heirs. It was to remain an exclusive royal property, used sometimes as the royal residence and sometimes as a country retreat or a hunting lodge, until the reign of Victoria who, somewhat to people’s surprise, decreed that it should be opened to the public. In a sense, that is where the history of Hampton Court Palace ends. In between these end points, however, there had been a major upheaval: the rebuilding of Hampton Court Palace in the Baroque style.

The Naked Lunch
Staircase ceiling

William III and Mary II (ruling as joint monarchs 1689-94, and William ruling alone until 1702), decided that Hampton Court Palace was old fashioned and needed to be rebuilt in a style appropriate to the late 17th century. They set about demolishing bit by bit the old Tudor palace and replacing it with a new Baroque structure designed by Wren, with an eye to the Palace of Versailles. Fortunately for us, the plan stalled and was never completed – hence the “colliding palaces” that I mentioned at the beginning.

Care for a game?
A quiet corner away from affairs of state

The “Privy Apartments” of Henry VIII are closed at the moment, denying us a glimpse the private life of a Tudor monarch. In this the apartments of William III afforded a contrast as both the state rooms and the private quarters were open. Throughout, compared with the Tudor palace, there is an altogether more “modern” feel. Even the state rooms, though large and handsomely decorated, lack the ostentatious pomp of the Tudor rooms.

Chamber of the King’s Presence
A place for formal receptions

Am I right to see even the Chamber of the King’s Presence as being relatively low key? The King would have sat on what appears to be a comfortable armchair rather than a jewel-encrusted throne. There are still tapestries as in the Tudor palace but in these apartments there are also framed pictures, pictures everywhere.

Private office
A place for signing state documents, perhaps, or for an ambassadorial

tête à tête

Away from the state rooms, the private accommodation is comfortably if richly decorated. Low-slung and well cushioned chairs predominate along with exquisitely worked cabinets, writing desks and small tables.

The King’s Eating Room
For formal meals and banquets

The decor is fine but restrained, emphasising the formal function of the room. Compare this with the dining room in the King’s private apartment.

Private dining room
Much more informal (though the staff served on bended knees)

The private dining room is more informal. It is almost cosy, a feeling emphasised by the low ceiling and the round table, unlike the long rectangular formal dining tables. In the absence of electricity, candles are used for lighting. One reads, writes letters, holds conversations, plays games and dines in localized pools of light, emphasised by the dark panelling.

The West Closet
One of a series of "closets"

There is a set of private sitting rooms, called “closets” (East Closet, West Closet, etc), for use by the royal family. The same low chairs and beautifully made furniture is found throughout. Royal rooms were arranged in sequence so that people gradually penetrated further into the private realm as intimacy between them and the King increased.

Gallery with sculptures
As much for enjoyment as for show, I think

They obviously enjoyed their art, as witness the paintings, busts, sculptures and vases displayed both in the formal rooms and in the private “closets”. This gallery contains an impressive collection of sculptures.

The Palace Gardens
The gardens are extensive and intricately designed

Another source of pleasure would be the extensive Palace Gardens which are visible from many of the windows in this wing of the building. They are “jardins sages”, modelled perhaps on the gardens of Versailles and laid out in formal designs. The King had an “orangery” built – a sort of covered area – so that he could walk in the gardens even in inclement weather.

(The above picture suffers slightly from having been taken through wavy window glass. The dull lighting conditions don’t help, either.)

Military graffiti
The result of long boring hours of guard duty

One thing that surprised me – though, on reflection I suppose it’s not really so surprising – was the amount of graffiti. This has not been left by recent visitors but is 18th century graffiti, no doubt incised by soldiers during long and boring periods of guard duty at either end of the royal wing. The one on the left reads simply “Abner Mitchener 1764” while the other is somewhat more informative:

By giving their names, these men clearly rendered themselves liable to detection and punishment should anyone have cared to take such steps. Obviously, no one did. It seems not to have bothered them that the guards were defacing the palace walls. And not only the walls…

Graffiti on the stone stairs
Close-packed and over-written

There are even more graffiti in the foot of a staircase. It was densely packed and as the space ran out, carvings ran on top of carvings. Successive generations of bored guards must have whiled away the time engraving their names and whatever information about themselves they thought to leave as evidence of their sojourn.

Normally we frown upon such desecration, especially of beautiful buildings, but I suppose time has to some extent lessened the offence by turning these graffiti into records of past lives of people who usually do not achieve a personal mention on the pages of the history books.

The Prince of Wales
They have battered haloumi!

We could have gone on exploring but decided we had done enough for one day and, as Tigger said, it’s good to leave something for another visit (we can get in free with our Art Pass cards – they are really good value). We paid East Molesey a courtesy visit, though, to be honest, we were looking for lunch. We found it in the Prince of Wales where they serve hand-battered haloumi. Try and resist that!

Old Post Office
Now a rather more sinister place

We had a little look around the town, for example at the old Post Office dated 1906 which these days, unfortunately, has become a shop selling equipment to people who like torturing fish for a hobby. It deserves a better fate.

Jubilee Drinking Fountain
Commemorating the Jubilee of

Queen Victoria

East Molesey also has an unfussy little commemorative drinking fountain originally erected in 1887 to celebrate the Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria. In more recent times (2002), it has also been used to commemorate the Golden Jubilee of that other long-reigning monarch, Elizabeth II.

East Molesey which, together with its significant other, West Molesey, forms Molesey tout court, possibly has other points of interest, a supposition supported by the existence of an apparently flourishing Molesey Local History Society. As the light was beginning to fade and an evening chill to make itself felt, for us it was time to head for the station and begin the journey home. We shall no doubt return.

Hampton Court Palace Gardens

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

When I was a child, I lived in a terrace house in a quiet street in Brighton. More than a street, it seemed to me a little world or perhaps a theatre and upon its stage many characters played their parts, whether great or small, and looking back with the purblind eyes of memory, I remember some of them and now find that with the passage of time, a few have somehow acquired an aura of mystery.

For example, there was Miss Pink who lived a few doors along the road from us. When I think of her I see her through the imprecise eyes of childhood and it is difficult for me to say now what age she would have been. I think she would have been in her 40s, but that’s a guess. She was a short, plump lady with long straight hair and an unremarkable face.

Miss Pink was regarded as odd and didn’t seem to have much to do with her neighbours. She would sometimes disappear for a while and then return and take up her life as before. No one mentioned this and I only knew of it because I noticed when the house was shut up and vaguely wondered where she went.

One day my mother told me that Miss Pink had asked if I would cut the grass in her back garden for which she would pay me. I duly went along to Miss Pink’s house, assuming that she would have the necessary gardening tools, such as a mower or shears. Imagine my reaction, then, when she led me to the kitchen, opened a drawer and took out a rather blunt carving knife. She demonstrated its use as a gardening tool by seizing hold of a tuft of grass and vigorously sawing at it with the knife!

The back gardens belonging to those terrace houses weren’t enormous but cutting the whole lawn with a knife was quite impractical. I proposed going home to fetch our shears (we didn’t possess a lawn mower in those days) which would be a much better option. Miss Pink was reluctant to let me go. I suppose she was afraid that if I left, I would not come back. However, I manage to persuade her, went off to fetch the shears and duly returned to cut the grass on what was a very rough lawn.

It was the only time I cut the grass for her, so how she accomplished the task on other occasions, I do not know. Perhaps she cut it herself, using the carving knife as she had demonstrated. If so, it must have taken her a good few hours each time, not to mention the back-breaking labour of crawling about on her hands and knees, sawing the grass with a blunt knife.

My wielding of the shears must have won Miss Pink’s approval for on another occasion she approached my mother to ask whether I would do some painting for her. When I turned up at her house, I was shown the job, rather an awkward one. The room in question had been freshly papered but the woodwork had not been painted. That was to be my task. Now everyone knows that you do the painting first and the papering afterwards because if you do things the other way around, you are bound to get paint on the new paper. I cannot now say how good a job I did as I no longer have any clear memory of it but I completed the task as requested.

I do remember that I did not get paid. This was because Miss Pink managed to confuse me about the money. When we went into the room, Miss Pink pointed to a table on which there were two small piles of coins. "This is your money," she said pointing at the heaps. "Not this one, though" she added, pushing one of the piles slightly one side. It was all too quick for me to see which pile was which, and as I was afraid of taking the wrong pile, I took neither. I intended to ask Miss Pink to clarify things afterwards but in the event the chance was denied me. This was because Miss Pink was busy holding a party.

On arrival, I had seen that Miss Pink was dressed up. She was wearing a black dress and a little hat. Having shown me the painting job I was to do, she left me to get on with it and went back to her party in another room. As I worked, I could hear a murmur of conversation.

Having finished the job, I looked into the room where Miss Pink was enjoying her party. As I did so, she half turned and seem to notice a drink on the mantelpiece. "Oh, is that for me, dear? Thank you," she said, quite naturally. I assumed she said this to whoever she thought had brought her the drink.

What of it, you may ask. That is all quite usual and normal and not at all remarkable. Well, yes, it would have been normal but for the fact that Miss Pink was the only person in the room! It seems that the good lady had got dressed up to have a party, all by herself, complete with drinks and pleasant chitchat with… well, with whoever she thought was at the party with her.

She was obviously too busy to attend to me so I left, without thanks and without the money. As far as I know, neither the job nor the money were ever mentioned again.

One day after this, on my way home from school, as I passed her house, I spied Miss Pink in the window. She was reclining, as on a couch. She was wearing what might have been a nightdress and she was staring out into the street, running her fingers absent-mindedly through her straight hair.

Her posture seemed rather odd and I stopped in front of the house and gave her a little wave. She did not respond nor did she give any sign of recognition. Her eyes seemed fixed on the middle distance, perhaps on things that only she could see. To my impressionable eyes, there was a certain wildness in her expression.

As I turned to leave, a police constable arrived. He cheerfully addressed Miss Pink with a "Hello, my dear, how are you?" and, meeting no response went inside the house while I sped home to report the case to my mother. Miss Pink then made one of her periodic disappearances and was gone for quite a while. She returned to her house in due course but I was never again invited to do any jobs for her and I do not know what eventually became of her.

As a child, busy with my own life and interests, I paid little attention to the people around me or to their lives and adventures unless for some reason they impinged in some direct way on my life. That now seems strange to me. It also seems a waste of an opportunity. I have become curious about these lives that ran in parallel to mine, lived by people who, as well as being interesting in themselves, must have possessed useful knowledge about my world and its past. Would that I could return to that place and that time and ply them with the questions that now so easily spring to mind. But it is too late, much too late, and they have taken their memories and experiences and their precious knowledge with them into the hidden places of history.

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

On January 6th, I wrote a post explaining how I had managed to download and install the free Kindle application for Blackberry (see Kindle for Blackberry). I said there that even though you have to download the application from the US Amazon site (amazon.com), you cannot buy ebooks from that site, even if they are free. I further explained that the application will not connect to the Kindle store on the UK Amazon site (amazon.co.uk), so you cannot get ebooks from there, either.

It now turns out that the first statement was true but the last statement was not quite correct. I have discovered that you can buy ebooks from amazon.co.uk and have them delivered to your Blackberry Kindle. I say the statement was not quite correct but it was not quite incorrect, either, because you cannot complete the transaction entirely from your Blackberry.

The process is slightly complicated but it works and is probably easier to understand by doing it than by reading my description of how to do it. However, my description will, all being well, point you in the right direction so that you can work it out for yourself.

For the purpose of this explanation, I assume you have an account on Amazon that you access by entering your email address and password. If you don’t have such an account then, obviously, you will need to create one first.

Your first purchase requires two stages. In the first stage you need to open Kindle on your Blackberry and, from the menu, select Shop in Kindle Store. Use the search function to find the book you want. To make things easier, I suggest you choose a free book, such as The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, to avoid complications with payment.

When you try to “buy” the book (you have to “buy” books even if they are free), you will be asked to sign into your account. Enter your email address and password and try to buy the book by clicking on the appropriate button. Nothing will happen. Scroll down and you will see a message telling you that you cannot buy books from your Blackberry. However, by signing in and attempting to purchase a book, you will have registered your Blackberry with Amazon. The instructions advise you to add the book to your wish list and sign in on your computer.

To actually buy the book, proceed to stage 2. For this, you must use your PC to connect to Amazon. Sign in, find your book  in the wish list and click Actions. Elect to buy the book and you will now be asked how you wish the book to be delivered. In the drop-down window, select your Blackberry and click to buy.

It may look as if nothing has happened but don’t be tempted to click again, just wait patiently. Go onto Kindle on your Blackberry. Is the book on the book shelf? If not, click on the button labelled Archived Items at the bottom of the screen. Assuming that your book has been downloaded correctly, this action will place it on your book shelf. Voilà, job done!

If that sounds complicated, be consoled by the fact that you will not have to go through stage 1 again. Next time you want to buy a book, sign into your Amazon account on your PC, buy your book and when you are asked how you want it delivered, specify your Blackberry and the book will be downloaded to it.

Happy reading!

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

This Friday and Saturday (January 13-14), the London Ice Sculpting Festival was taking place at Canary Wharf in Docklands so we thought we would go along and take a look. We caught a bus to Canada Square and looked around for the ice sculpting.

One Canada Square
Often regarded as the symbol of

Canary Wharf

Docklands is a place of soaring buildings, none more so that the pyramid-topped building known as One Canada Square, seen above, thought the famous top is not visible from this angle.

Follow the crowds
That’s where the sculptors are

We soon saw where we should go because of the crowd that had gathered. We walked across to join them.

Artist at work
Delicate work done with a chain saw

Ice sculpture is a strange art because it is so ephemeral. Even as the artist works at creating a sculpture out of a block of ice, this is already melting and dripping.

Artists’ Row
Artworks emerging from ice

I was surprised at how interested people were in the proceedings. The crowd pressed against the barriers and it was quite hard to find gaps in order to take photos. If you found one, you had to click the shutter immediately!

Ice dancers
The theme is Winter Sports

The theme for the sculptors to work to was “Winter Sports” and each artist interpreted it in his or her own way. This sculptor seems to have chosen ice dancing as his subject.

An abstract design
With a certain translucent beauty

Even though the air was chilly, the sun was shining and the temperature was well above freezing so I can’t imagine that the sculptures would last very long, especially where there was fine detail. Speed of execution was therefore essential.

Food stalls
They were doing a good trade

Beside the row of sculpture platforms was a row of food stalls. Each had an array of tempting products, some hot, some cold, and they were doing a good trade.

The waterside
No ships now but plenty of wildfowl

The docks still exist, full of water. There are a few small craft about but the big ships have gone and the dockside cranes stand abandoned. Wildfowl have colonized the area and can be observed busily getting on with their lives.

Is this a grebe?
I snapped this one as it took off

Several of these birds flew in as we watched and started diving in search of food. We at first thought they were cormorants as the colour was hard to see when they were silhouetted against the bright water, but when they came closer they were obviously not cormorants. My guess is that they are some kind of grebe.

Open vistas
The water adds pleasant spaciousness

When you are beside the water there is a pleasant feeling of light and spaciousness. The different sizes and styles of the build­ings contribute  to this.

Tall buildings close in
Leaving narrow canyons between them

Away from the water, though, it can be a different story. There the tall buildings crowd in, leaving narrow canyons between them and a rather more claustrophobic feeling.

Testa Addormentata
Igor Mitoraj, bronze 1993

We live in an age when, more than any other, people move about continually and when travel and transport are at the heart of our way of life. In the Docklands, getting from place to place is as important as it is elsewhere.

Lots of open space
There’s plenty of walking to do

In the Docklands, there is plenty of open space and long walkways where no vehicles are allowed. The topography of the place means that buses and taxis are restricted to the roads that run through the Docklands, leaving plenty of opportunity for exercise by walking, though I wonder how disabled citizens get on.

Docklands Light Railway
Connecting main centres and the City

Travel between the main Dockands centres and the City can be effected by the Docklands Light Railway or “DLR”, as most people call it. This runs on viaducts above the streets, or through tunnels or on carefully segregated track beds. In design it is something like a hybrid between a tube train and a modern tram. DLR trains are driverless (so there is often a scramble for the front seats!), although manual control can be exercised when this is thought necessary.

Taking the Jubilee Line
Where the tube interacts with the Docklands

Another way to get quickly into and out of the Docklands is to use the purpose-built extension to the Underground’s Jubilee Line (delivered late and over-budget, like all British public projects) but, whereas the DLR connects all Docklands areas as though they were beads strung on a slightly complicated necklace, the Jubilee Line stops only at Canary Wharf before speeding on towards Stratford or Waterloo.

Canary Wharf Jubilee Line station
A vast open space (beware of clichés)

We went down into the Jubilee Line station, not because we intended to take the tube but just to take a look at it. We usually do. Riding down the bank of escalators gives you a view of the vast open space, all the more remarkable for being below street level. One struggles to avoid clichés but the phrase “cathedral-like” tends to rise to one’s lips.

Returning towards the daylight
Illumination is provided by the glass canopy

Having descended, we went back up again. To enter the system is to enter a realm of subdued artificial lighting and to re-emerge is to rise towards daylight that, in contrast, seems brighter than normal, pouring in through the huge glass canopy.

Canada Square Shopping Centre
It has only one interesting feature

We started off towards the bus stop but diverted into the Canada Square Shopping Centre, mainly in order to find refreshments. This shopping centre is the usual dull and uninspiring sort of place that shopping centres generally are. So why mention it? Because it has one interesting feature: it resides under Number One Canary Wharf. It is entirely underground.

The staircase
It leads to the centre of the earth – or maybe just to the car park

I am told that there are also interchanges for the Jubilee Line and  the DLR “down there” but didn’t investigate this myself. I did see that there was an underground car park because the staircase up which we went to leave the shopping centre also leads down to the lower levels, including the car park. Deep stairwells always make me feel queasy and I always have to torture myself by taking photos of them, as above.

The iconic building of Docklands
Number One Canary Wharf

From the bus stop you get a good view of Number One Canary Wharf, the iconic building that has become the symbol of the Docklands and is often mistakenly called “Canary Wharf”. It is Britain’s second tallest building (so far) and on its apex carries a light that continually flashes as a warning to aircraft. Here that light is obscured by the plumes of steam emerging from the heating exhausts.

Plaque to Elizabeth Garrett Anderson
Britain’s first women medical practitioner

(though she had to qualify in France)

We got off the bus in Commercial Road, which is a long, wide and busy main thoroughfare, the sort of place I instinctively avoid. Yet, even here we found items of interest, almost at every turn. To start with, above the door of the local precinct of the London Metropolitan University (which has buildings all over London, as though someone had tried to blow it up) at 41-47 Commercial Road, we found a plaque reminding us that that remarkable woman, Elizabeth Garrett Anderson, was born near this spot.

Elizabeth Garrett Anderson was Britain’s first female medical practitioner, a qualification that she achieved after a determined struggle against prejudice but only by going to Paris to take her final examinations. A brief biography may be found here.

The Proof House
Headquarters of the Gunmakers’ Company

Across the road a little further along is this little building dating from 1757, the Proof House. It belongs to the Worshipful Company of Gunmakers, which is one of the livery companies of the City of London and received its charter from Charles I in 1637. One of its duties is to test gun barrels for quality and safety, a responsibility which in more recent times it has shared with the Birmingham Proof House, established in 1813. The Gunmakers were the only livery company to have a hall outside the City. It was attached to the proof house but was sold in 1927.

St George’s German Lutheran Church
Founded 1762, now the headquarters of the Historic Chapels Trust

We strayed into Alie Street, perhaps because some instinct suggested there might be something to see down there, despite it being so narrow as to make photography of buildings a little difficult. Here we found St George’s German Lutheran Church, founded in 1762 to serve the growing local population of German immigrant workers. It is now the oldest surviving German church in London. An account of its history will be found here, thanks to the Historic Chapels Trust which now inhabits the building.

German and English Schools
Elementary school set up by St George’s Church in 1877

Even more striking perhaps is the building next door, St George’s German and English Schools. The school, providing elementary education for boys and girls, was set up in 1877 and supported, as the lettering proudly declares, by voluntary contributions. I don’t know what the building is used for today though there are signs that at least part of it is used as dwellings. Both the church and the school are listed buildings, as you might expect.

Small but elegant doorway
Suggesting a quality building

On the corner of Alie Street with Leman Street, my eye was attracted by this small but elegant side door, suggesting a quality building. The suggestion turned out to be correct.

The Eastern Dispensary
An example of Georgian philanthropy

The quality building concerned is the Eastern Dispensary. Like the school around the corner it proudly declares itself to be supported by voluntary contribution and displays two dates on the façade. The first, 1782, is the year in which a group of doctors, gaining the support of the Duke of Wellington as their president, set up a dispensary (what we would probably call a “medical centre” these days) to provide free health care for the local poor. The second date, 1858, is when this building was made.

The dispensary closed during wartime in 1940 and is today a pub. The building is listed and both the exterior and interior are being preserved.

We continued down Alie Street, turned right into Mansell Street, then left into Little Somerset Street and thence to Aldgate High Street. And here, in case you are wondering, is where the curry comes in.

Kasturi Indian Restaurant
Where we found lunch

Serendipitously, we found ourselves in front of an Indian restaurant called Kasturi, and as it had now gone 2 o’clock and we had not eaten since a modest breakfast in Pret A Manger in City Road, it needed little to persuade ourselves to go in ask for a table. We treated ourselves to an excellent vegetable thali washed down with lassi. What better way to round off the outing?

Watching for buses
We did not have to wait long

Just outside the restaurant is a bus stop with a clear view along Aldgate High Street where we could see the buses coming. We didn’t have long to wait before a 205 arrived that took us all the way back to the Angel. A smooth ending to a perfect outing.

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

Back in November, we had been to Covent Garden to visit the London Transport Museum (see Breakfast, a museum, a ramble and a visit to the Dead House) and our tickets entitled us to unlimited visits for a year, so today we thought it was time to return there for another look.

Number 1 Earlham Street
What is its history?

We got off the bus in Shaftesbury Avenue and I took a photo of this handsome corner building at the junction of Shaftesbury Avenue and Earlham Street. Today, it’s ground floor is occupied by Fopp and I think the upper floors are apartments. I am curious to know its history but have not been able to find out anything about it.

Artisan at work
Does this provide a clue?

A possible clue appears in a moulding above the door of Fopp. This shows what seems to be a Tudor artisan at work (I like the way his right leg is hooked around the leg of the stool), though the building is not Tudor, of course. Neither of us can identify the activity in progress and if any reader can do so, I would be interested. Perhaps the scene refers to a workshop that existed on the site before the present building.

Monmouth Street, Covent Garden
Looking towards the Seven Dials Monument

We walked along Tower Street to Monmouth Street. The above photo shows a view up Mon­mouth Street to the Seven Dials Monument. Seven Dials was laid out in a star formation to a de­sign by Thomas Neale (1641-99) and built between 1693 and 1710. Google Maps mistakenly labels the southern part of this street ‘Upper St Martin’s Lane’ and I here append proof of the correct designation. (Bing Maps gets it right, though.)

Covent Garden is still an area of narrow streets, courts and yards. (for example, there is Neal’s Yard, named in honour of Thomas Neale.) Most date from ancient times but, increasingly, there are new developments.

St Martin’s Courtyard
Accessed through Slingsby Place

Such a one is St Martin’s Courtyard, a new open space surrounded by shops. It may vaguely resemble some of the other friendly courts where people hang out among “alternative” shops and cafes but this is a high street shopping centre with upmarket boutiques, not “Covent Garden” in spirit at all.

Wow Retro
Occupying Chertsey Cambers, Mercer Street

We carried on through to Mercer Street where the intriguing shop WOW RETRO occupies the equally intriguing building named Chertsey Chambers. WOW RETRO, as the name suggests, sells secondhand clothing, and some furniture, in styles going back as far as the 1920s. A good place to browse if you want something for a fancy dress party or simply like wearing retro garments.

Chertsey Chambers
A late Victorian commercial block

At a guess we think this building, with its slightly severe design relieved by a few decorative curlicues, dates from late Victorian times. I have found a reference to a business renting cellar space here in 1901 which suggests mixed usage. Today there is a music theatre company in residence among other businesses.

Ghost sign
On the corner of Mercer Street and Long Acre

Mercer Street led us onto Long Acre which takes its name from when it was a strip of cultivable land owned by the monks of Westminster Abbey. Today, after many ups and downs, it is Covent Garden’s main shopping street. The view along it is dominated by the Freemasons’ Hall (built 1775).

Long Acre
With Freemasons’ Hall in the background

Turning into James Street at Covent Garden tube station (opened 1907), one comes to what is now called the Piazza and was once London’s main fruit and vegetable market until 1973 when it was relocated at Nine Elms.

The Piazza
One of the passageways

The Piazza is a centre for shopping and entertainment, particularly entertainment by buskers who play music, perform comedy routines and novelty acts. They are not above buttonholing passers-by and drawing them into their acts.

He offered to pose…
…but I preferred to catch him on the hop

I photographed this busker in front of the London Transport Museum. He offered to pose for me but I preferred to catch him as he was performing.

Kafeneo
A coffee and snack bar near the Piazza

Tigger fancied a drink before going into the museum so we went to Kafeneo in Tavistock Street. It’s quite a pleasant place and handy for the Piazza and the museum.

Entering the Museum
Old building, modern decor

There was a queue for admission to the museum but because we had tickets we could go straight in. The entrance is self-consciously modern and sci-fi-looking but fortunately, having let their imaginations run riot on this bit, the designers calmed down and the rest of the museum decor is unobtrusive as it should be in order to give full value to the exhibits.

There is a lot to see here, not only in the form of a priceless set of exhibits but also in displays of information if various formats – audio, film, posters, touch-screens, etc. Exhibits cover London transport from the ancient…

A happy conductor…
…aboard a horse tram

…to the ultra-modern (this one hasn’t even entered service yet):

Emirates Air-Line gondola
London’s first cable car service

Emirates Air-Line (a rather ambiguous name) is a cable car service – London’s first – that will provide a new Thames crossing, linking stations on the Greenwich Peninsula and the Royal Victoria Docks. Both pedestrians and cyclists will be carried. The service is due to start in the summer of this year.

An age-old drama
A busker performs

When we at last emerged from the museum, the sky had darkened  and lights were blazing in the piazza. In the yard, an age-old drama was in progress – a busker had attracted an audience and was performing his routine.

"Do you believe I can do it?"
"Hands up if you think I can"

Bare-chested and almost painfully thin, he waves a stringless tennis racquet and asks whether the spectators think he can wriggle the whole of his body through it. “Hands up if you think I can.”

Racquet raised…
…and the ritual begins

Whatever else you might say about him, this young man knows how to gather and hold an audience. There is suspense in the air as they await the outcome and yet it is obvious he will succeed. He is not going to raise such a pitch of expectation only to admit defeat.

The Lamb and Flag
Seen here in its night-time aspect

We did not wait to see the inevitable outcome but continued on our way and went along Rose Street, past the Lamb and Flag, also known as The Bucket of Blood (see The last walk of the year), looking somewhat more dramatic at night.

Monmouth Street at night
Dressed in Christmas lights

This time we walked up Monmouth Street, which was prettily illuminated with Christmas lights, as were the neighbouring streets, and reached the Seven Dials Monument.

A facsimile of the original
How many dials do you see?

When Seven Dials was planned, a monument marking its centre was included, bearing sundials around the top, but there was straightaway a mystery. Where the monument stands, seven roads converge and you would therefore expect there to be seven dials, one for each street, and consistent with the name. However, there are only six. Why?

I don’t think anyone knows the certain answer to that. It has been suggested that the original plan envisaged only six streets and that when this was increased to seven, the design of the monument was left unchanged. Another suggestion is that two of the streets enter at a closely similar angle so that one dial does for both of them. We shall probably never know the true explanation.

Despite the area being intended as an elegant district for the gentry, its fortunes declined so that by the later 18th century it was the haunt of criminals and prostitutes with the monument acting irresistibly as a meeting point. In a forlorn attempt to ameliorate the situation, the authorities  pulled down the monument in 1773. That, however, was not quite the end of its story.

James Paine, the architect, living in Sayes Court, Addlestone, had the pieces removed to his garden there. Then, in 1820, a public subscription was got up by the citizens of Weybridge to raise a monument to Princess Frederica, Duchess of York, who died in August of that year. The old Seven Dials Monument was bought and reused for the purpose, though a coronet was substituted for the dials.

The present monument at Seven Dials, an exact copy of the original, was installed in 1989 as part of a programme of renovation of the area. We may thus admire it again today and continue to ponder the conundrum of the six dials.

Covent Garden faces

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

We thought we might try out the cafe in the Mary Ward Centre in Queen Square, Holborn, for lunch, so off we went. The bus took us to Theobald’s Road where this imposing building stands on the corner of Red Lion Street. The plate on the corner façade dates it to the reign of King William (1832) and gives the architect’s initials as  “J.H.”

Late Hanoverian building
A plaque dates it to 1832

Across Theobald’s Road and once partly a continuation of Red Lion Street, is Lamb’s Conduit Street. This narrow street was named after William Lamb or Lambe (died 1580), a thrice married but childless gentleman philanthropist, chorister at the Chapel Royal and member of the Clothworkers’ Company, who, having founded almshouses (1574) and a grammar school (1576) in Kent, paid in 1577 for the restoration of the Holborn conduit which had been built to supply water from nearby sources to the City of London. The conduit no longer exists, having been demolished in 1746, but the street retains its name in his honour.

Lamb’s Conduit Street
The conduit has gone but historic traces remain

You don’t have to go very far in London to come across references to Charles Dickens. Partway along Lamb’s Conduit a road leads off that bears a Dickensian name.

Dombey Street
Another reminder of Dickens and his works

At number 64 Lamb’s Conduit Street, we find an intriguing historical remnant, about which I have so far found very little information. Today, the address houses a medical centre on the ground floor and presumably apartments on the upper floors.

Medical Centre
At 64 Lamb’s Conduit Street

The ventilation grill beneath the ground floor windows suggest that this was once a shop selling fresh food such as meat, fish or dairy products. The interesting feature, however, appears above the first floor window.

United Patriots National Benefit Society
Originally of North Gower Street

The relief, showing four hands (I think meant to be the hands of four different people) tying a bundle of sticks, or fasces, represents the theme of working together for mutual benefit, and this was the symbol of the United Patriots National Benefit Society, a mutual assurance company. It was founded in 1843, as the relief indicates, though originally in North Gower Street. I believe that the Society had branches in several towns and continued operating until about the middle of the 20th century or beyond but although I have not seen definite evidence of its demise, nor can I find any of its continued existence. Perhaps, like so many of its ilk, it was absorbed by a larger company.

This handsome building…
…stands on the corner of Great Ormond Street

Lamb’s Conduit Street has a character all of its own and contains some interesting and unusual shops such as the experimental and much discussed People’s Supermarket which seems to be surviving despite dire prophecies of its early demise. Today, however, we turned off into Great Ormond Street. We turned left, leaving behind us the building in the above photo.

Great Ormond Street, famous these days for the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Sick Children that resides within it, is thought to have been named in honour of James Butler, later made Duke of Ormond (sometimes spelt Ormonde), the Anglo-Irish statesman and military commander and supporter of the Royalist cause against Cromwell’s invasion of Ireland.

House of John Howard
The prison reformer lived here from 1777 to 1790

Barely do you turn the corner when you come upon the house of John Howard, marked by a blue plaque placed there by the now defunct London County Council. The son of an upholsterer but later inheritor of wealth, Howard dedicated himself to philanthropic works including the amelioration of public health and the reform of the prison system. His name is now remembered particularly with regard to the improvements he achieved in prison regimes. Sadly, Howard died as a result of contracting typhus while visiting Russian military hospitals in 1790. He lived in Great Ormond Street from 1777 until his death.

Queen Square
A once fashionable address

Today we pressed on along Great Ormond Street to Queen Square. Named in honour of Queen Anne, the square was once a very fashionable place to live. It was built in the early decades of the 18th century but all of those first buildings have now disappeared. There was a reservoir here, too, but it is not visible today. One trace of it remains, however.

Water pump
Decorated with a grimacing face

I refer to the pump at the southern end of the gardens which would once have served the square’s householders (via their servants) with water. The pump is decorated on the base with coats of arms of St Andrew and St George and around the body with four occurrences of this grimacing face. The date is given in Roman numerals as 1840 and, needless to say, the pump is chained and out of use. (I am curious to know, nonetheless, whether the pump can still produce water, at least in principle: is the reservoir or its supplying spring still present?)

Mary Ward Centre
An adult education college

The Mary Ward Centre is on the corner where Old Gloucester Street meets Queen Square. It is an adult education college with a broad range of courses and prides itself its personal and friendly approach. Unfortunately, it was closed (we should have checked), so we tightened our belts and went on our way.

Plaque to Sir John Barbirolli
Born in what is now the Bloomsbury Park Hotel

We walked down Cosmo Place at the end of which, on its corner with Southampton Row, stands the Bloomsbury Park Hotel, a large red-brick Victorian building. A blue plaque on the wall indicates that it was here, in 1899, that Sir John Barbirolli was born. The plaque gives no indication of who placed it there.

This, incidentally, demonstrates one of the problems we face when considering memorial plaques, whether they are blue or of any other colour. In London, the LCC put up plaques and so did its heir, the GLC. When the latter body was disbanded, English Heritage took over this responsibility. However, English Heritage is not alone in the field. Local councils also put up plaques and so do organizations of various kinds and even individuals. While some of the latter are obviously of an “informal” nature, it is not always easy to know whether anonymous plaques carry correct information. Caution needs to be exercised.

Greenwich
Christmas decorations still in place

We now took a bus to Greenwich, another place we often visit because there is so much to see there and because of its historical associations, including the Royal Naval College and the Royal Observatory. The bus trip is quite long from Holborn but you get a good view of the scenery from the upstairs windows!

The Cutty Sark
Still under wraps

We tried to sneak a view of the Cutty Sark over the builders’ fences but she was still under wraps as she has been since being  damaged in the disastrous fire in May 2007. I look forward to completion of the work and being able to go aboard her again.

Greenwich Market
The stalls were piled high with goods

We visited Greenwich Market, of course. It was very busy and the stalls were piled high with goods, making for a very lively scene.

Buskers
Outside the Coach and Horses

The pub in the market is called the Coach and Horses and today there was a pair of buskers sitting outside. I assume they had the pub’s permission  to perform there though I noticed when we went inside that the pub had its own background music as usual. Perhaps the buskers’ music didn’t find favour with the landlord.

Church of St Alfege
Named after a martyred archbishop

We went across to look at the Church of St Alfege. As I am sure you know (though I didn’t and had to look it up), Alfege or Alphege (or Ælfheah, in Old English) was an archbishop of Canterbury who was abducted and martyred in 1012. If you want the grisly details, you will find them here and in plenty of other places on the Web.

The previous church having lost its roof in a storm in 1710, a new one was commissioned, designed by that famous builder of churches, Nicholas Hawksmoor. It was built between 1712 and 1714 but not consecrated until September 1718. Why not? Well, if you really want to know, you will find all the details here.

St Alfege Park
Once the church’s graveyard

Cross the picturesquely narrow alley called St Alfege Passage that runs beside the church and you enter St Alfege Park. There are no prizes for guessing that this was once the church burial ground, now landscaped as a garden. The ordinary grave headstones and footstones have been removed to the perimeter where they stand in a serried row quietly rotting away. The box tombs of the more affluent dead have been left in place.

Some of the box tombs
These have been left in place

I was glad to see that the trees had nesting boxes in them to encourage wild birds and the garden as a whole seemed well cared for.

Drinking fountain
Without a date or dedication

In one corner is this little drinking fountain, deprived of its tap and cup. Only the retaining stud of the latter remains. The fountain bears the name of the Metropolitan Drinking Fountain and Cattle Trough Association but is undated and lacks a dedication. How many people, I wonder, refreshed themselves here during visits to the churchyard?

Café Rouge
They’ve started putting ‘V’ in the menu, hurrah!

We still hadn’t had lunch and so made a quick decision to repair to the local branch of the famous pseudo-French cafe-restaurant chain, Café Rouge. To our pleased surprise, we discovered that they have started marking vegetarian items on the menu with a ‘V’, something that was lacking before.

Greenwich denizens
Two locals with whiskers

We now took a walk up the hill to the Royal Greenwich Observatory, once Britain’s most important observatory and arguably one of the most important in the world in its day. It is of course the place where resides the Greenwich Meridian, zero degrees longitude, upon which the maps of the world are based. It is now a museum full of the most interesting objects and displays concerning astronomy, time-keeping and navigation.

Royal Greenwich Observatory
South Building and Astronomy Centre

As you might expect, the place was crowded so today we did not tarry here but carried on, first stopping to admire the view.

View from the Observatory
You can see the Millennium Dome

The view from here must have been spectacular when the Observatory was first built. The countryside would have been empty of buildings and at night observers would have enjoyed dark skies without the light pollution that hampers observational work today. Astronomy has long since had to retreat to remote mountain sites and, more recently, to space.

Drinking fountains
Ancient and modern versions

Walking down from the Observatory we encountered another drinking fountain. There is no date and no other inscription on it so one would have to make a guess at its age. Nearby is a modern style drinking fountain, very practical no doubt, but completely lacking in the aesthetic appeal that makes its older companion so attractive.

Wild parakeets
This species is doing surprisingly well in the wild

We made our way through Greenwich Park as the evening began to draw in. There were parakeets in the trees, recognizable by their long tails and bright green colour. They can also be rather noisy. No one is quite sure how these exotic creatures came to be living wild in Britain but the fact is that they have multiplied and spread all over southern England and even further north.

Once a foreigner too…
…but now fully naturalized

There were also many grey squirrels in the park and, while cautious, they were ready to approach people, hoping for a hand-out.

Sundown over a pond
Can you spot the ducks?

We reached the bottom of the hill as the sun was setting though there was still enough light to see our way. The ducks were still dabbling on this pond.

Reaching the road
As the sunlight fades

Soon we reached the road and found a bus to start to long ride home.

Despite things not going quite to plan, we had a good day out and packed a lot into it. London is such a huge and varied place that exploring it never ends. Returning to places already visited reveals changes and new discoveries

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

I have written several posts about ebooks and ways of reading them on the various devices that we possess. (See, for example, How do you read ebooks?, Another way to read ebooks, and Reading the electronic way.) I don’t own a dedicated ereader and don’t have plans to buy one for several reasons, including my belief that we should be encouraging the development of multi-use devices, not the proliferation of single-use ones.

I thought that I had found a working solution in the form of the Aldiko ebook reader that runs on the Android platform and that I installed on my Archos tablet. Unfortunately, the tablet has broken down and as Carphone Warehouse, the vendor, will not help in getting it repaired, I do not know when it will be available again for use, if ever.

I can of course read ebooks on my PC but even a laptop is not a convenient piece of kit to lug around just for the purposes of reading a book. Something more portable is required.

Tigger recently bought an iPod Touch and I find this quite impressive in its way. There are several good ebook readers available for it and the screen, though small, is very legible. I have been thinking about buying one myself but it seems silly to lay out £150, or whatever the current going rate is, just to read ebooks if I can achieve the same goal with the devices I already own.

I have been reading books on my Blackberry Curve 8900. The screen is small but with the right sort of software, reasonably legible. But that’s the magic word: software. There are simply no decent ebook readers for the Blackberry, with the possible exception of the Mobipocket reader (now owned by Amazon) which I have not tried. Moreover there are persistent rumours of Amazon’s intention to ditch it.

I have been using the Ibis Reader. This is a multiplatform online book reader. You have to create an account on the Ibis Reader site and upload your books to it. While it is very good, it has a major drawback: you have to be online in order to read. If you cannot get a connection, you can’t read.

Whenever I discuss ebooks, someone is bound to remind me that Amazon now offer a free Kindle application for mobile devices. What these kind advisors forget is that I live in the UK and that the Kindle application is available only to residents of the US. Or was, until recently.

Having read a news item that the Kindle app was now generally available, I thought to have another try at obtaining it. The first thing to note is that it is available from amazon.COM but not from amazon.CO.UK. The general page for the Kindle app is here and the Blackberry page here. To download the app, you have to sign in but I found that my .co.uk sign-in details were recognized on the .com site.

You are offered two ways of downloading: you can have a download link sent to your email of you can use your Blackberry browser to go to http://www.amazon.com/kindlebb. (This link doesn’t work correctly in a PC browser.) There you discover a notice telling you that “Non-U.S. customers: Kindle for Blackberry is not currently available.” You could be forgiven for giving up at this point, especially if, like me, you have already tried several times to obtain the app only to be rebuffed.

Don’t give up, though. Instead go to the notice above it which reads “U.S. customers: Download for Free. (Data usage fees may apply)" (In the browser, the underlined phrase contains the download link.) I clicked the link and the application downloaded and installed. Result!

I was naturally keen to try reading a book, so I ran Kindle (hereafter, “Kindle” refers to the Kindle app, unless otherwise stated) and clicked on the menu item “Shop in Kindle Store”. There I searched for Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi. I clicked to “buy” it (though it is in fact priced at $0.00), only to be told “InvalidOrder [sic]: Purchase Unavailable: Purchasing from Kindle for Blackberry is currently only supported for U.S. based customers.” Grrr! Apparently, I had a reader but nothing to read with it!

After a few moments’ thought, I connected my Blackberry to the PC and took a look at the folder tree. I saw that the Kindle installation included a folder called eBooks. I then went onto the Web site of Project Gutenberg and looked for Life on the Mississippi there. I found two versions for the Kindle (file extension .mobi), one with illustrations and one without. I selected the one with illustrations, downloaded it to the PC and copied the file to the eBooks folder on the Blackberry. When I ran Kindle, the book duly appeared as available. Result!

One of the problems of using the Ibis Reader is that as it is a multiplatform application, it cannot format the text to your specific device. When you return to a book, it remembers the page you were on but that’s all. As these pages can be very large, as long as a chapter in some cases, you may have to spend time searching for the exact spot where you left off reading. Does the Kindle do a better job? Yes, it does. It divides the text into screen-sized chunks and if you close the reader and open it again, it remembers where you left off reading. Press spacebar to advance a chunk and ‘P’ to go back a chunk. I use the word “chunk” because, although Kindle recognizes pages, it serves up the text conveniently in screen-sized chunks, avoiding the need to scroll within pages.

There is also a bookmarking function but I have not yet tried this out.

Because the book is stored on the device, I don’t have to be online to read. I can even read in the depths of the tube network!

What about the availability of books? Well, this is something I will have to research further. Because Kindle for Blackberry refuses to sell me books, I assume I cannot buy books from Amazon. However, I can get books from other sources, provided these do not require to be linked to Kindle in order to download them. Moreover, by using Calibre, I can convert books from other formats such as epub. Doing so turns out to be a little complicated and I won’t bore you with it here but if you want the details, email me.

DRM-protected ebooks will remain unreadable unless I decide to use DRM-removal software to release them from their straitjacket. I regard DRM protection of a bought book as immoral as the locking of mobile phones by the mobile phone companies: they have no right to impose limits on property that I legitimately own. As long as I do not sell or distribute the text, I should be free to read it without restriction on any and all my devices.

For the present, though, I have enough to read with the ready supply of free, out-of-copyright books available on the Web from sources such as Project Gutenberg and ManyBooks.

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

I needed to run an errand this morning. When I looked outside, the sun was shining brightly but the ground was wet and there were large puddles everywhere. It had rained and I hadn’t even noticed it.

Reflections in a puddle

When it rains this hard, London’s streets cannot cope with the influx of water. Drains gag on the current and uneven surfaces collect huge puddles.

Looking up Amwell Street

Surfaces were soaking wet and the cool winter sunlight was making no headway in drying them.

St Mark’s Church

In Myddelton Square, St Mark’s Church was basking in sunlight under a blue sky with innocent-looking white clouds. Had there really been a downpour minutes earlier? The puddle says there had.

Squirrel

Making the most of the sunny interval, a grey squirrel darted across the pavement and stopped between railings to watch me. Had I got anything for him? Unfortunately, no, I had not brought my usual bag of peanuts with me. Next time… promise…

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.

I first came to the Angel many years ago when, on impulse, I got out of the tube at Angel station and went for an exploratory walk. Being interested in antiques, I was bowled over by the seemingly endless collection of antiques shops that I found in what I later learned was a world famous street or alley called Camden Passage.

Now an inhabitant of the Angel, Islington, I visit Camden Passage often and though the fascination of the antiques shops and the bi-weekly antiques market remains, there is sadness too because, well, Camden Passage is no longer what it is used be. Some of the antiques shops and emporia have closed down, being replaced by eateries and would-be upmarket boutiques, while that Aladdin’s cave known either as the Tram Shed or the Mall, once alive with tiny antiques shops, has become a boring clothing store.

The Tram Shed
Once an antiques mall, now a clothing store

Known variously as the tram shed, the tram depot or the Mall, this building dates from 1902 when it performed the functions of a tram shed and electricity generating station for the tram service. It became a famous antiques mall until a couple of years ago when the owners succeeded, after protests and a public enquiry, in evicting the antiques retailers and changing usage of the building. The whole process generated a lot of ill feeling.

Phelps Cottage
Terraced house dated 1838

If you ask people for Islington High Street, many will look at you blankly. You would expect a street with such a name to be prominent but Islington’s High Street is of a retiring nature. Though Google Maps does not admit it, the High Street starts at Pentonville Road and is that stretch of the main road that runs to Liverpool Road, whereupon it seems to become Upper Street. In fact, the High Street crosses to the other side and passes to the right of the tram shed. The above picture of Phelps Cottage is taken from this limb of Islington High Street. The cottage stands in a short street linking the High Street to Upper Street that rejoices in the name of Gateway Arcade.

Camden Passage starts here
At least, officially…

Camden Passage starts officially here, without any obvious break or division. Vincent Freeman’s address is 1, Camden Passage. That, however, is not the end of the story because Islington High Street suddenly reappears a little further along. It seems that the coming and going of buildings has caused the two thoroughfares to become entangled to the point where only a postman can sort them out.

Some of the permanent residents
But not all are antiques dealers these days

Camden Passage has a resident population of lock-up shops, though these days not all deal in antiques or objets d’art. While some open during the week, not all do. These days many antiques dealers do business online and at antiques fairs and open their shops only by appointment. Market days are Wednesday and Saturday and those are the days when the greatest number of antiques shops are open (but still not all of them).

Christina’s Boxes
Some dealers specialize

While some dealers specialize fairly narrowly in one type of object or a historical period, others are more eclectic and buy and sell more or less whatever comes to hand.

Pierrepont Arcade
Stall holders set up in the arcades on market days

On market days, stall holders set up in the arcades. This one is called Pierrepont Arcade and there are two others. This arcade is part of Pierrepont Row which in fact forms a little square with small shops. It can become quite crowded on fine days.

Free-standing stalls
Open to the weather

As well as shops and arcades, there are free-standing stalls. Some have their own covering, like the clothes stall in the background, but others live precariously at the mercy of the weather.

Shop front stall
Some shops also set out stalls

Some of the shops put out stalls on market days. I suspect that they put out less valuable articles that they don’t want to find shelf space for in the shop.

The Camden Head
A late Victorian pub

The Camden Head is the antiques district’s pub. It too is an antique, having been built in 1899 and refurbished and 1969. Here we are approaching the end of Camden Passage and the official address of the pub is Camden Walk, rather than Passage.

Another arcade
This one specializes in jewellery

Beside the pub is another arcade with several stalls and all seem to specialize in jewellery. Next to the arcade is a most unusual shop, one that has nothing to do with antiques but which I find intriguing.

African Waistcoat Company
Made from hand woven Nigerian cloth

The Camden Passage antiques community can still put on a good show though some of the outlets, in particular the late lamented tram shed, have been taken over by other businesses in a process of homogenization that is all too familiar these days. Let’s hope it can fend off the rot and survive for future generations to enjoy.

Ghost sign
Leftover from a long departed bakery

Copyright © 2012 SilverTiger, http://tigergrowl.wordpress.com, All rights reserved.