Showing posts with label Liverpool Street Station. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Liverpool Street Station. Show all posts

Sunday 15 September 2019

Day Out and a Horn Blast from 66514.


In a moment of madness yesterday I glanced at the clock, decided I could make the 11 O'clock train, raced off slowly towards the station, was 'sighed at' by the lass at the desk in the way you treat old people who cannot get the card out of the wallet, and jumped aboard one of the new trains that awaited passengers - sorry - customers.  Panting gratefulness I slowly recovered, fit?  Not yet.

   
The layout of the new train was different, the seats harder, the coach empty, and remained so until we reached the larger stations where London bound thrill seekers boarded en masse.  Two lassies even had the audacity to sit next to me and blether.  Tsk!  A decent journey in just about one hour as usual.



London termini have different faces to offer the traveller and none of them are very pretty.  Either of Liverpool Street station exits offer crowded streets, high buildings and masses of people.  The sky is rarely visible in this part of the world.  When you think of it the sky has not been seen much around here for probably two hundred years or so as this has been built up for many years.  

  
Naturally, knowing my way around, I took a short cut I had not used before through this dark alley.  The pub on the corner contained many rather too smartly suited men for my taste, could they be estate agents or Bookies runners I wondered?  Their outlook spoke of money the honesty of which I was unsure.  At the end of this short lane, which I avoided and continued through the more modern road in front of me, I noticed this:-



This was the one time entrance to what was 'Cooper's Wool Warehouse.' Opened in 1863 with the 'Merino Sheep,' which you correctly identified, on top of the gate now being a preserved monument, one of many such in London.  The building, like so many others here, was converted into offices in 1981 and recently upgraded.  Among the tenants are the City of London Police who helpfully block the end of the street with their vehicles.  



However I resisted the temptation to investigate and did not go that way wandering into this four sided ex-warehouse that I never knew existed.  On the other hand the warehouse and its employees never asked after me either did they?  Today a few eating paces, rather half heartedly operated, it may be they were just opening as it was just after noon or possibly preparing for an event, I did not wait to ask.  This does however reveal how much money is being spent around here, the Crossrail project apparently bringing many companies to swarm around Liverpool Street Station in the hope of living off the traffic this provides in some manner.

 
I however, still convinced in the rightness of my decision to take a short cut continued on my way expecting at any moment to arrive at the road awaiting me and turn left as I planned.
I did not.
Instead I blundered on past those three storey London houses built in the late 18th and 19th centuries, all with shops at the bottom, almost all occupied thus revealing the vast amount of Bangladeshi's who now reside in this area.  
This part of London has always attracted immigrants but do not tell the UKIP people as this upsets them, especially those descended from Jews, Russians, Latvian's, Poles, Germans, Italians, and so on and so forth, they do get upset about Johnny Foreigner.  So many gathered about the TV last night to sing 'Britons (read Englishmen) never will be slaves, Rule Britannia!' I consider it difficult for Britannia to rule the waves when she only has seven ships and four are in dock.
The Jewish immigrants were famous in the 19th century, their furry hats and inward lifestyles upset many 'English' at the time.  You will recall how many Jews were bad men in Charles Dickens stories, think of 'Fagan' for instance.  These streets were also the 1930's hotbed of political action as the 'Blackshirts,' Oswald Moseley's imitation fascist army, clashed with left leaning folks who disliked his approach to the Jews and indeed everyone else. 
It was quiet enough on Saturday.

I continued to goof and went further away from my destination.
Many shop signs revealed the ownership and heritage of the owner, just as they have always done here.  Many were selling clothes of one sort or another, shoes, local stores plus cafĂ©'s and restaurants.  I continued in the wrong direction hovering on the shady side of the somewhat downtrodden, let's be honest, dingy streets to avoid the sun.  Lots of buildings required a good wash and brush up here while next door stood a plush restaurant or shoe shop.  I almost bought a bottle of water from a local store but moved on as the staff were on hands and knees sorting things out.  I obtained water for 59p at a plush local shop which was doing very well thank you, the butchers side helping his profits I suspect with Halal meat.  
Many object to Halal as they say cutting an animals throat is cruel.  Funny how no-one objected to the Jews doing this for Kosher meat until recently?  However, a man I knew worked in an abattoir and was perplexed by the amount of animals that were not stunned properly before death.  Handling a half ton cow which is desperate to escape does not lead to decent behaviour!  A properly cut throat they say is quicker, less frightening for the animal and offers better meat.           
Discuss.



Having left home on the basis that I was feeling as healthy as I have been for a very long time I was now beginning to find my knees thought differently.  Wearing the wrong shoes and walking on ragged pavements did not help either.  Luckily in the distance, and in the wrong place, I saw the tower of Christ Church, Spitalfields rising in the distance so there I headed across the very busy road.  Once glance at the front of the building reveals that this Nicholas Hawksmoor building was not built to the 'Glory of God' but to the glory of the builders.  It was one of Fifty Churches being built by the Church of England in the new outlying areas, only 12 were actually built, this one was chosen as the area was dominated by those Huguenots and their descendants who had arrived from Flanders and preferred their own more biblical chapels in the area.  An outstanding creation but not in my view what a church ought to be, the locals agreed with me also.  Those chapels now are often turned into Mosques by the latest incomers. 
As I recall the church was in the 70's a place housing derelicts in the crypt.  People forget the homeless, on Dossers as they were then called, existed in the past also.  London has contained many since the Romans built their landing place here.  
I recall a TV programme from the 1980's where the crypt was emptied, the homeless moved into the main building and an archaeological team removed the hundreds of coffins placed therein in days gone by.  A disgusting sight as I remember it but offering valuable insights into the lives of those considered worthy of being deposited within.  Rather them than me.
I was somewhat peeved as the church was closed on Saturday, possibly to allow the bell ringers to hammer passers-by ears.  Next Saturday, as part of 'Heritage Weekend' it will be open!  I will not be there!  The link shows it may be worth a visit for some, especially as the old Market will also be full of feeding troughs for the rich and hungry. 

      
This is what dragged me ought yesterday morning.  I came across a picture I took many years ago of this door and wondered if it still existed.  Desperate for a day out somewhere I decided, without proper thought, to go for it.  


This was my inspiration!  Taken on the old Minolta it shows little has changed in 30 or so years.  The obvious change is the new owners, note the name has gone, do not enjoy tourists peeking in the wndows and make use of the shutters today.  A great many homes in this area have similar shutters enabling the weavers within to continue their work while as much light gets in and cold weather is kept out.



A clearer view of the large windows while on the roof proper weavers windows on number eleven and a half.  Fournier Street has a place for sale if you fancy it, bigger than these being on the corner, this is a 'snip' at £2.3 million.  I must say the insides of that one are mostly original and well worth a look!
Braintree obtained its wealth from such people Courtauld's being the most successful  Many weavers had arrived in Bocking and many places in Essex many years before and for hundreds of years they were popular and successful businessmen.
I was glad to have wandered about here, even if my body lacked desire for walking.  The change of area, the sights, the memories and the blessed tourists all getting in the locals way made my day, unless I was the one getting in the locals way.  



It is clear some weavers made more money than others, this chap has done well.  Of course he may have retailed cloth, or even better become a lawyer and dealt with officialdom on the locals behalf, that would enable an economic growth for him!

  
The comparison between the plush residences and the poorer ones round the corner spoke of London as it has always been.  These streets, not far from 'Jack the Rippers' area, have always been egalitarian.  Rich and poor side by side, a very London existence.  Stupidly I did not take more pictures of the rougher streets, Brick Lane in part being a bit rough, as there were so many parties of tourists around getting in the way, and I did not think!   Many parties were led by guides offering tales from the past, others might just have read the book 'Brick Lane' and come to see if it was real. No darling, story books are not real!  


I mused over the different building styles each century brought.  These may be late Victorian or Edwardian.  It was the tops of the building that attracted.  I have seen this elsewhere, is it meant to be Gothic?  Or is it just fancy brickwork to contain a room for the servant girl?  Note also all the shops are in business, no charity shop to be seen around these parts.  
It struck me as interesting that many clothes shops exist here today, many selling cloth of some sort, long years after the first weavers the area still has that connection.  Today, Sunday, just down the road Middlesex Street and the local area turns into 'Petticoat Lane' and attracts more than just tourists to its many stalls.
That market, and London has a great many of these, goes back to the late 16th century and a clothes market was there in the 1600's.  Spanish, Huguenots and Jews all spent time in the area and the market opens today on Sundays only, though nearby markets open six days a week.  Bring plenty of money and argue the price for stuff. 



Graffiti 'artists' I find usually leave only a mess however there are those in London that leave better images behind.  The quiet back streets offer opportunity for such around here.



Created in 1894 this building, Bedford House, once offered 'good works' to the locals, education, alleviating poverty and the rise of Quaker social action.  This lasted until 1947 when bottling plant moved in.  Since they left the place has slowly fallen apart.  Now squatted by 'artists' and 'students' who have repaired many parts of the building the owner, whoever that is, appears keen to let it fall apart, possibly to then sell it as the land would bring him millions!  Such a shame, nice building.


Before reaching Bedford House I was much tempted by the street stall selling curry and the like.  I failed to notice the prices but was sorely tempted to pay over the odds, something I do not delight in.  On my way back I accidentally ended up here once again and entered the opening opposite the curry stalls here I found Spitalfield's Market, once home of fruit and veg now home of  trendy London.  
Many stalls, the food ones operating at full speed, the overpriced ones selling garments, handbags and er, objects, less so while people stuffed their faces.  A very large market, full of the middle classes who have been told by their publication's this is where it is all at.  They might be right, if this is what you wish.  
Tourists abounded as I wondered what was the better part of the area, this tourist trendy place that I was become accustomed to in Notting Hill on a Saturday, or the real small shops and grubby streets I had passed through.  The area where people actually live and work had something more honest about it.  Life there being lived as it had been in this area since the 1600's, give or take a plague or two.  Immigrants, new food styles, new languages yet by the third generation they all cheer England on at cricket!
I don't!

 
I have a feeling this was an undertakers display, I chose not to enquire.



In the distance on the last picture three men are standing chatting.  Before them, hidden by the telephone box, lay a stall full of hats.  Trilby abounding I would have called it, they did not.  Guess who is the boss...
I noticed a stall calling itself 'The Naked Grinder' but like so much else around here that was not to be taken seriously...I found.



This is 'I Goat' a sculpture that is supposed to represent the waves of immigrants to this area.  Quite how I know not.  Standing on packing cases it looms high about the square.  Why?  No idea.



Artillery Passage once formed the boundary of the old St Mary Spital Priory closed down in the days of Henry VIII.  'Spital' is short for 'Hospital' and for around three hundred years after the end of the Priory the Archers and Crossbow men took over this space, hence 'artillery.'  The alley as such came with redevelopment in later days and offers a look into ancient London, many such lanes can be found in the 'City.'



The symbol of ironmongers was a Frying Pan.  These would be hung outside their door and the guess is that this now modernised wide open lane was once a grubby narrow passage which was home to many of those who worked that trade.



On the way to the station I hobbled by this shut coffee house.  Rather a mistake I thought, surely business would be good at the weekend with tourists about. 


I did rather like this however.



Back to stand staring at the board awaiting the platform number appearing.  On the way in I noticed Chelmsford Station now had a coffee stall on my platform, previously it was only available on the London bound side.  Therefore I decided to take the Norwich train and speed myself to Chelmsford, sip coffee and await my train which did not leave for a further 18 minutes after the Norwich service.
The Norwich speedy train trundled along.
It did not mention it stopped at Stratford to ensure someone insisted on sitting next to me.
We trundled on, I considered getting off and walking, eventually he returned to speed.  Some slow train in front hindering the express.  Tsk!  


I left the train, allowed the crowd to depart, sought the coffee stall and found it shut!  Typical, 2pm and he had hopped it!  Do they not realise trains run on a Saturday?  There was nothing for it but to wait 20 minutes for the new glossy train.


I amused myself by attempting to capture this aircraft high in the sky, this was not easy.  Higher above, Stansted and Luton bound planes passed across the sky, all leaving long vapour trails to upset the environment lobby making use of such aircraft for their holidays. 


I never noticed this before, it must be new.  I had heard the story somewhere.  Marconi the Radio people along with a major Ball Bearing plant existed in Chelmsford during the war, important targets for the Luftwaffe.  Often Heinkel's would pass over on bombing raids.  One night a large formation of enemy bombers attacked and Moulsham across the river from the main town, suffered badly with some 50 people killed and a great deal of damage done.  As a troop train approached the town this signalman remained at his post, halted the train at a distance to avoid several hundred men suffering, all the while in a signal box that was seriously damaged and in danger of collapse.  
It is nice to know he is remembered this way.

    
As I awaited my saloon car I managed to catch 66514 as he sped through at high speed heading I think for Felixstowe.  He offered a friendly three tone blast as he passed 'God bless you sir' and hurled himself on his way.  He pulled many empty flatbeds behind him, only four or five were in use and I wondered if Brexit was hindering exports?  No similar train passed in the other direction, that way I could gauge the import side, it may just have been to gather empties for the docks of course.



Typical!  The good train was put elsewhere and I was returned on the aged 321 which I must say has softer seats, though that may come from 20 years use of course!  So it was home, sore knees and that coffee.  

Today I remained at home, too stiff to cycle down the road!  Once again enjoying the memory of the good things in London having avoided the bad. £800 a week rent for a studio flat, £2700 a month for one of the better class two bed flats!  The empty flat here is going for £625 a month! How do they afford London? 


Thursday 4 August 2016

The Centre


The difference between a leisurely Saturday rail journey and a middle of the week commuter rush hour one is great.  Mine took just over the hour, encountered no problems and allowed me a seat to myself with few around me all the way.  How different from the tired sardines crushed together as the train waits somewhere along the line because a door will not shut or someone has thrown themselves selfishly in front of the train or a signal has failed yet again.  Occasionally lorry drivers like to drive 15ft tall lorries under 14ft high bridges, sometimes staff do not turn up, on odd occasions a passenger will be genuinely taken seriously ill, anything to disrupt a service involving hundreds of trains along the line.  Once the line gets so far out of London it becomes two lines only for many areas with a few 'loops' at stations on the way.  Any traffic problem and the whole lot between London and Colchester falls apart.  No wonder people grumble yet I can understand why the rail company feel no guilt.  For one many faults are not off their making on the other they are only in it for the money and it is the public and the passengers (sorry 'customers') who suffer.


Now the grime has been cleared away and a hundred or more years of smoke removed we can see the wonderful Victorian iron roof (I take it to be iron) that stretches overhead.  Even better now the glass has been cleaned.  Such huge cavernous spaces were wonders indeed in Victorian times and I can see why.
At Paddington a similar cross like structure exists and this was to allow for a crane to carry the small coaches from one line to another without going all the way out and in again.  Sometimes horses were used to pull them into position.  I wonder if this was a similar situation at Liverpool Street in times past?

Sir Henry Wilson was a man who disagreed with General Haig from the start.  He was very much a French loving General who supported Lloyd George and the other War Cabinet members in their belief in French superiority.  In 1918 when he took over as the top man in London he suddenly found himself agreeing with Haig and insisting to Lloyd George, now Prime Minister, that Haig was the best man for the job.  Funny how things change when the job is yours.  He unveiled this and other memorials but was very much a supporter of the anti IRA faction and as such he was blown up two days after the unveiling and killed.


The one thing difficult to discover in London is a cheap eatery yet on Saturday I walked into one.  This place, going by the clever name of 'EAT' gave me a bacon and egg roll with coffee for £4:45 and I thought that not only did it save my life but for London this was cheap!  The place was clean, the staff friendly, the service excellent and if back there I will look in again.  Well done 'EAT!'

  
Mansion House is the place where the Lord Mayor of London is supposed to live.  Personally I suspect he lives in another more acceptable mansion elsewhere and uses this for his London business only but that's by-the-by.   Once a year the Chancellor of the Exchequer is paraded around here before he gives his annual speech about how he will rob the poor and feed the rich as George Osborne has done for the last six years.  As the only way to get a proper picture of the pretentious structure is to cross the road I didn't bother.  I blame the knees.


Opposite the Mansion House is the Bank of England (begun by a Scot) here watching the choir who are positioned over the place that caved in due to the Blitz bomb in 1941.  The bank is a solid edifice but not an attractive one.  In keeping with the people at the top it says "Keep away, I'm too important for the likes of you!"  I stayed away caring not a jot.

   
Looking the other way we find this, the result of a drunken architects bet surely?  I suggest the bet was he could design a building so daft yet get both a buyer and permission to erect it in the heart of the City of London, and here it is.  I blame alcohol!


The Royal Exchange, founded in the 16th century and rebuilt several times, this Greek temple impersonation dates from 1840, was the commercial heart of London for many years, at least for the 150 years when Lloyds of London used it.  Today it is a mixture of classy (overpriced) shops and is of course closed on Saturdays!  


In front stands a classy memorial to the 'Men of London' who served in a variety of regiments, mostly Royal Fusiliers or the London Regiment, and who gave their lives in the Great War.


James Henry Greathead was as you know the man who along with Peter W. Barlow developed the Tunneling shield used in the creation of much of London's underground and tunnels under the Thames.  He was railway engineer on much of London's railways and worked in Liverpool and Ireland also.  The plinth he stands on hides a ventilation shaft for the underground beneath him.

Wot mean you 'Is it finished?' No there are more London pics to come!
Hello?  hello?  Operator, I've been cut off!


Saturday 30 July 2016

A Day Out


Last night I decided I needed to go somewhere to refresh the mind and take some pictures.  So at nine this morning I was aboard the Liverpool Street train and heading for adventure.  I have passed through London on occasions heading elsewhere but as far as I can remember I have only been back once since then.  So I wandered from the station around the city engulfed by cyclists having some sort of parade come protest while I took pictures of the appalling architecture that towers above us.  It was a good day.



Liverpool Street Station, being one of London's busiest, was once a grime covered dark cavern of a place of which I have vague memories.  Today it is light and airy with a myriad of grossly overpriced shops willing to rip you off for a variety of things you really don't need. 



I ignored the delights of donuts (doughnuts surely?) and other tempting specialties on offer from people who failed to learn English before starting their job and went looking for the Great Eastern Railway Great War Memorial, one of our boys is on there.  Fascinating to think that he once worked on the Permanent Way, the rail track itself, and when he died of TB his wife was still allowed to make use of Free travel for the rest of her life.  Railways were indeed a family at that time, I wonder if such would happen today?



Outside we find this statue which I think represents refugee children worldwide beginning with those evacuees who were forced out of cities during the war.  A touching subject that gets admiring glances from many and if you look close the odd empty coffee cup from more cynical people.  The Station inside is clean but the area outside is far from this state. 



High above the road the Great Eastern Hotel as was displays proudly the railways logo 'GER.'  This 1884 hotel has been much renovated and I am not sure if either of the two masonic lodges still exist or whether the trainload of sea water brought each day still arrives for bathing, I suggest the latter no longer occurs.  Now owned by Hyatt the outside is very much Charles Barry's work and remains an outstanding and still expensive hotel.  I didn't go in.



In all those years I spent in London I canny mind seeing one of these.  A police call box for public use. No doubt I must have seen them but they do are not recognised by my mind.  There were several still to be seen and it is possible they are only found withing the City of London and the special City of London police deal with these.



London traffic remains the same, ghastly!  Being Saturday I thought it would be quieter in this part but I was to be proved wrong.  The buses may have changed, and absurd they look, but the rest is similar.



Just down the road began the neck straining day.  High above disgusting buildings filled the sky in an attempt to launder someones stolen Roubles.  This was the first of many difficult to photograph glass fronted mistakes, each and everyone a tower that reaches up to heaven so that someone can make a name for themselves.  

  
I preferred this little chap, once a famous and busy establishment belonging to some group or other as each church was in the past in the city.  Like almost all I passed today this one was closed, this is a pity in my view as tourists need the space as much as city workers, it is sad so many are closed.

Oh and I took 272 pictures, so I may post the rest from tomorrow...what?  Oh!