LONDON:  Home   A-Z   Transport   Historic   Museums   Attractions   Overview  


THE LONDON BLOG

"there is in London all that life can afford" -
Samuel Johnson, 1777

Gentle reader, as 'blogs are now too fashionable to ignore we've decide to start one ourselves. If no-one reads it we'll stop it. You have been warned.

February 04   March 04   April 04   May 04  June 04    July 04   August 04   September 04   October 04   November 04   December 04
SATURDAY 14th
Valentine's night









































 We have been set a unique and demanding challenge. As you may or may not know your humble editor is a TEETOTALLER (he'd have been burnt as a heretic in an earlier, less enlightened age), he's not one for pubs or clubs and prefers to stay at home with a copy of Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire' and some Shostakovich on the record-player. However he has house guests and needs to entertain them: so why not organise a pub crawl for 6 hollywood babes who have just completed a film shoot and are here to P-A-R-T-Y before going into post production. Also along is one Australian babe who is hoping to get into film/TV writing. So it's seven hard-drinking women and one teetotal male. You see why we felt challenged?

So we start off gently in the Rose, a local's pub in Borough, where they recently shot a TV film 'Passing by' or something of that nature. The man who tells us this is slurring his words, probably on account of the half bottle of scotch he's been drinking in the park while waiting for the pub to open. We witnessed the filming as the whole area was illuminated with huge cherry-picker mounted floodlights, scaring the village foxes half to death, and saving the lives of several small rodents who could see them coming a mile off. They're always filming round here: Lock, Stock and Three smoking barrels, Richard III, Dirty Pretty Things, Bridget Jones I & II, Still Crazy, etc etc etc.
One night our esteemed editor came home from a dinner party to discover that his street had turned Dutch. All the cars, roadsigns, streetmarkings, shopfronts had turned Dutch. He began to wonder if moderating his collegelifestyle would have avoided this kind of flashback. But it turned out to be a filmset, thank God.

One is constantly amazed at the number of attractive women in the Borough's pubs (not just this pub, the whole area is seething with babes, from local graphic design chicks who inhabit the cool lofts on Bermondsey Street to the trainee doctors who hang around Guys). But this pub is amazing: not only the 7 stunners who are at my table, but the barmaid and all of the female clientele are the type you dream about waking up with. The opposite can be said for the men. Two old mackintosh clad regulars nurse a silent pint the entire time we're there. I think they're trying to play 'Grandma's Footsteps' because whenever we look at them they freeze. Yet somehow the level in their pint glasses keeps on going down, a little slower than the dollar. They look like extras out of Eastenders or some gritty 1960's black and white film, and I think they're eavesdropping our conversation: it's difficult to tell.

The babes are talking hollywood and the aussie is lapping it up. What George (Clooney) said at the wrap party, what Naomi Watts is really like (they bumped into her at the Ivy the previous evening, when I thought I was the one trying to do the impressing), and something about Emma Thompson's breasts I didn't catch (like any man I immediately tune into any conversation at the point the word 'breasts' crops up, but by that time I'm usually too late to get the gist of the sentence: the important bit that contains adjectives: so I can't tell you whether Emma is thrusting, droopy, proud, pert or flat, just that she does have breasts. Mind you that's all the average man seems to care about anyway....

Anyway, so we leave the Rose and head off up to Hoxton - even in my teetotal state I know it's the place to be after 10pm. I take the 'ring a friend' option and get a list of cool bars: Bluu, The Bedroom Bar, Cocomo and a couple of others we don't manage to find: perhaps they've closed down.
Hoxton square is a seething mass of humanity, bent on having a good time. Virtually every other building in the square is a bar, and all have a DJ: it is a bit too loud to talk. It also looks as if everyone is secretly hoping that some big star will walk in the room: every head turns in the same direction every time the door opens.

We have a strict 'one bar, one drink, one photo' rule and drift among the bars. At about 11pm the crowds thin as everyone moves on to the clubs that dot the area, so we get to sit down. Then at midnight we're thrown out of 'Bluu' and have to go for 'Los Alamo' or something like that which serves until 0200. Someone wants 'An English kebab' and I steer them away from the chicken in favour of the lamb (I remember reading an article in the British Medical Journal enumerating the other little animals that cohabit a doner kebab). The rest of the evening is a blur (even for our esteemed editor who remained stone cold sober). I do remember going for a bagel in nearby Brick lane (they're open 24/7 and are cheap and tasty) and then walking back over London Bridge, with every lone male darting eye-daggers at me, with 7 babes on my arm.
THURSDAY 19th It's bagpipes night. There are a group of bagpipe enthusiasts who practice in the village hall (I think the concept of a village, here in central London is a bit overblown, but it keeps the property prices up) and each thursday night the ghostly wail of reeds and bladders snakes through the park. It reminds me of one night in November when the park was waithed in mist. As I was walking through at about 10pm I heard the wail of the pipes and then, out of the gloaming, emerged a procession of pipers, in great kilts, who slowstepped round the park and disappeared into the mists again. Only in central London.
FRIDAY 20thWe are standing in line to get a return ticket for Ades' new opera 'The Tempest' which we heard broadcast on the BBC (our digital radio is permanently tuned to radio 3). It has our favourite singer Ian Bostridge, along with the glitterati of the English opera scene and is probably the best opera premiere there'll be this decade. It's also sold out. I suspect that most of the people with tickets don't really want to be here: they'd prefer Verdi (or tagliatelli verdi), but they're here because that's what you do if you're rich, or you're being corporately entertained. I wonder if I should rewrite the Opera section labeling the ROH as 'a corporate entertainment centre, with a neat sideline in singing and dancing'. The last return ticket for the evening's show goes to the gentleman in front of me. I hate the ROH and am making a huge sacrifice to my credibility by being here. However.... the woman behind the desk comes up to me and hands me a ticket, free. Someone has just handed it in and said it should go to the next person in the queue, gratis. I thank Apollo and decide leave the Opera section as it is.
The opera is fantastic : if it comes to a city near you go and see it. Buy the CD. etc.

On the way back through the park that is overlooked by my appartment/office, I catch a sight of the cunning little vixen (I'm in an operatic frame of mind) that lives on my side of the park (there are two fox families in this small inner London park, daughters of the original Vixen who came to stay eight years ago). I notice she's limping badly, holding her rear foot up, in pain. I do hope she'll be alright.
SUNDAY 22ndLondoners like a foreign orchestra but can be a very volatile audience: one wisp of condescension and they're against you. On the other hand entertain us and we show our appreciation. Tonight's guests at the Barbican were the Minnesota Orchestra, total unknowns over here, but they've recently imported the BBC's Osmo Vanska - late of the BBC's Scottish Symphony Orchestra, and so we gave them two encores: nice to see an old friend back on the podium. Typically some people hurried out as soon as the clapping began (this is very rude and I've only really seen it in London) but those of us who stayed til the bitter end were rewarded with two very well played extra pieces.
As the house was only half full they'd closed the balcony and upgraded everyone (worth knowing: not only do you get better seats than you would normally - so no need paying top price - but there are plenty of spaces for you to move into to get even more value). This happened last week when I went to see Jerry Springer (for the 4th time - but I plead houseguests for three of the offences) - it's got a bit stale since the transfer from the National theatre to the Cambridge, though the old magic is still visible at times. And the programmes were free (I still rankle at the cost of a programme in London - average £3!)
So a happy audience, a warm reception and a glowing orchestra... what could be better.
MONDAY 23rd The (left wing) Mirror newspaper starts a week-long centre-page spread rant called: Things I hate about Britain which includes 1) littering, being rude and aggressive, lack of concern for the environment.
2) Denigration of British culture (and the degree to which 'foreign' cultures are promoted)
3) Price of transport in UK - cheaper to fly to Spain than to travel round Britain by train.
4) Drunken cretinous teenagers behaving badly in public.
11) The Stiff upper lip and political correctness.
15) British cinema
17) The appalling treatment of old people
Although they highlight many real problems, there is a cast of xenophobia about the whole article. However the next day they get a lot of letters and tidbits from celebrities which are much more realistic. And a radio show berates them for 'Whinging' - see(11) above!
WEDNESDAY 25thMuch controversey in the papers about plans to improve the acoustics at the Royal Festival hall. Simon Rattle said playing there 'sapped his will to live' - now I've never been a fan of Rattle but after the wonderful acoustics of Birmingham's Symphony Hall I can sympathise.

The makeover to the Barbican did wonders - the very warm woody acoustic was straightened out and a few of the dead spots eliminated (the seating is still too wide for the stage and if you're stage left you can only hear the basses) and it's much better. The RFH on the other hand is a difficult kettle of fish. The dry, 1950's acoustic I rather like: it has a very nice sweet spot, and if you know where to sit it can be excellent (tip: the back row of the stalls about 4 seats from the edge). But it's also a very good example of 20th C architecture.

The boss of the Twentieth Century Society - which tries to protect the architectural heritage from 1914 onwards - says the proposed changes would be damaging. There is a 'feel' to a space which comes from the acoustics. This is trueĤ the building certainly feels very 1950s (for another good space see our City Churches section - Chad Varah's perfect acoustic) and I'm prepared to put up with having to be picky about where I sit (I'm seat-specific here, and at the Albert Hall).

The other problem is that pieces of music composed in Britain between 1940 and 1960 are unique, they NEED that dry, sexless acoustic, and without a place to perform these pieces in a natural acoustic will be lost forever. But it's predicted that the modernisers will triumph and the new acoustic system will be installed. The only saving grace is that the team brought in to do the work trained with the boss of the RFH's original acoustic design team.
THURSDAY 26th It's official - Britain is the least religious country on earth (thank God).   The BBC has conducted a survey of 10,000 people. It is quite flawed (it's got a huge bias towards monotheism) but the results are interesting, apparently Americans are the least tolerant and most prepared to die for their faiths : Jihad, Texas style.

"Only 46% of respondents in the UK said they have always believed in God - 27% less than the average. Only Russia (42%) and S Korea (28%) were lower. Furthermore just 52% of UK respondents believed God (or a Higher Power) created the universe, compared to 85% in the USA, 83% in Mexico, 99% in Indonesia and 96% in Lebanon.

The survey found that only 19% of those in the UK said they would die for their God/beliefs. This compares to 37% in Israel, 90% of those polled in Indonesia and Nigeria, and 71% in the USA and Lebanon. The poll also looked at the place of religion in the world. Almost a third (29%) of people in the UK believe that the world would be a more peaceful place without beliefs in God but very few people in other countries agreed. Just 6% of those polled in America agreed with this view, 11% in Israel and 9% in India. The average across all ten countries was 10%.

The poll also looked at levels of attendance of organised religious services in the UK compared to the rest of the world. Across the ten countries, an average of 46% regularly attend a religious service but the figure was 21% in the UK, the second lowest behind Russia (7%)."

Actually we agree with Gibbon about the deleterious effects on a society of religious belief. And of course the gap between belief and superstition, and belief and action is usually huge.
FRIDAY 27th OPERA: the final installment. Raymond Gunnay has thrown down the gauntlet and stated he'll provide cheap but cheerful 'pop opera' in London: from this summer. Last night he opened a Boheme at the Albert Hall, designed for non-Bohemians (who stick to the ENO). This means there are now three companies in London: The ROH for the rich and traditional. The ENO for the avant-garde and intelligensia, and Raymond Gubbay, for those who like Phil Collins. Whether London can sustain all three is a moot point. The ENO re-opened tonight after a long closure with a splendid Rheingold, destined to annoy purists (not a breastplate in sight). It was an intelligent, modern upgrading of Wagner's text - in a splendid translation, and true to the spirit of the legend, if not the letter. The ROH featured Motorhead (the World's loudest rock group - they changed the name from 'Bastard' after warnings that their product would never get played) last weekend. Now Gubbay launches his pop opera classics season. Divisive or what?

Urban Golf - the latest whacky craze to hit London. Read all about it here. Apparently you play in the city at weekends when it's all deserted - in the streets. It's de rigeur to wear a Jermyn Street shirt. There's a championship in Shoreditch upcomiong.
SATURDAY 28thWe're leaving the country for a few days. Being a leap year women are 'allowed' to propose to men on the 29th Feb. It's infra dig to refuse. Removing ourselves from any potential embarrassment is the only answer. Our destination is secret.