This isn't London

London 2012 - 12 Major Infrastructure Projects That Get The Go-Ahead

2005-07-06T15:31:00.000+01:00

1. The de-gritting of Jacques Chirac's teeth

2. In order to handle overwhelming strain on the Tube and rail networks, £2.3bn is to be spent to make absolutely sure that all the "network status" whiteboard have the swanky velcro stick-on "serious delays" notifiers; otherwise railway staff risk RSI writing it in with marker pen each time

3. Money to be poured into American and Japanese tour operators' computer systems to handle the bookings for trips to Stratford-upon-Avon for "Shakespeare's Olympickes"

4. 145,000 estate agents have been mobilised in a four-mile radius around Stratford to add a zero to every house price they can find

5. National programme of elocution lessons to get under way: "It's Plarrrr-stow. Plarrrr-stow."

6. Chinese initiate bid campaigns for 2016 Shanghai games, 2020 Hong Kong Games, 2024 Taipei Games and 2028 Los Angeles Games

7. Operation Englandland Freedom, which will restore democracy to the United Kingdom and the IOC, as well as restoring the Olympics to New York

8. Lord Coe to be encased in bronze, mounted atop Trafalgar Square's fourth plinth

9. A £14.8m programme to remove 8 million "Back The Bid!" stickers from a variety of locations, including Tube trains, street lamps, taxis, bridges, Kelly Holmes, and the back of Jacques Chirac's jacket

10. Evening Standard typesetters begin work on the first "OLYMPIC STADIUM CHAOS" billboard

11. An international summit of 34,000 proofreaders, sub-editors and fact-checkers to meet in Tokyo in order to settle the ancient question: "Lea Valley" or "Lee Valley"?

12. £18.1m to be spent removing the grin from this Londoner's face. CONGRATULATIONS EVERYONE!

A Note of Explanation

2005-02-20T23:58:00.000Z

Apologies for the lack of posts of late - my home network has been out for more than a week. The connection has been restored this weekend - I will get to work clearing the backlog soon.

A Monopoly on Meddling

2005-01-27T10:11:00.000Z

The Times has reported - such fine words to begin a post - that game manufacturer Parker Bros has decided, for some reason, to ~~ruin~~ "update" its game "Monopoly" to reflect the modern capital. Quite why is beyond me - the capital still has railways stations, waterworks and the Old Kent Road, thank heavens - but TiL has obtained a full list of the proposed new "Community Chest" cards. ("Community Chest" itself is to be renamed "Jordan").

The new cards:

"You buy the Evening Standard. Do not pass page 3 as you throw it down in disgust at some story with zero news content about a dim model of whom you have never heard. Do not collect tokens, fail to win luxury flat."

"Make general repairs to your railway stations. It should be pointed out that you should have done this 21 months ago, before the tragic derailment. Do not, for some reason, go to jail."

"You have come second in a foreign beauty contest run by the player to your left, who is son of the former Nigerian finance minister. To claim, call 090-6764894-387774. Give him all your money."

"Spare travelcard. Keep this until needed. However, upon landing on any station, you must be pursued around the room by the other players, hassling you for it."

"Interest rates fall to historic low. The price of those little green houses will now increase 20% each turn forever. The increasing price of the little green houses must now be the only topic of conversation around the board. Sell your soul to the player being 'bank'."

"Advance to Leicester Square. You buy three beers. That will be £14."

"You owe council tax. However, you are a Hackney resident, so we're not that bothered about it."

But new Jordan cards are not where the madness ends. The player pieces are also to be updated, and new rules will affect them. The new pieces are:

Bendy-bus: this piece occupies two consecutive squares.

Suburban assault vehicle on school run: No one can pass this range rover on steroids.

Pigeon: may not land on Trafalgar Square.

Black cab: will not go south of the river, which on the Monopoly board applies only to the Old Kent Road.

So there you go. The new additions to the healthy boardgame of home Rachmanism.

Let's Go Duchy

2005-01-26T17:36:00.000Z

A note about the Duchy of Lancaster: When a Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster finishes his or her term, the role is passed to the person sitting to their left in parliament. This is the origin of the term “pass the Duchy on the left-hand side”.

Spaghetti Easterns

2005-01-24T14:33:00.000Z

Just as Hollywood gave the world the "Western" - in which men were men, horses were horses, and bar doors were too small for their frames - London's film industry has, over the years, built an inspiring canon of "Easterns", in which men are men, eels are jellied and lights are struck. Here are the top 20 titles worth investing in:

High Newham - it's wrong to make sweeping generalisations, but this archetypal "Eastern" knocks all other films, and all other works of art, to shit.

Erithnophobia - In which a man struggles to overcome his fear that the Dartford hinterland is infested with venomous spiders. In an interesting twist, he dies after being bitten by a shopkeeper (played by Danny DeVito).

Full Metal Stratford - arguably Stanley Kubrick's finest film set in Stratford shopping centre. It has two main section, the first set in a shoe shop, and the second in a branch of Banana Republic.

Bridge over the River Lee - The Lea Valley Navigation, considered impassable until the 1950s, has long been a target for adventurers, treasure-hunters and lover of mystery. What lies on the enigmatic "west bank"? Why does it have two spellings? Where does it lead? Where will it all end? This classic film, starring David Niven, Larence Olivier, Harold Macmillan, and Blakey off On The Buses, charts the Second World War attempt to bridge the Lee and end the Japanese army's occupation of Blackwall. The scenes of the devastation and human suffering caused by the war are truly moving. Some have said it was a mistake to make the film a musical, but history will vindicate it.

The Magnificient Seven Kings - a remake of the Russian film the Seven Samovars, this oddity is about tea-making techniques in Seven Kings. Seven Kings was the first area to put the milk in the cup first and then add the tea; this deluded heresy has since spread nationwide despite intense persecution and at least one war.

Apocalypse Bow - the film of the epic struggle by the Bow branch of the Rotary Club to open a day centre for the elderly. The famous battle scene - in which a squadron of Rotarians in electrified scooters descends on a council planning officer as The Ride of the Valkyries blares, is rightly considered a masterpiece, but wrongly considered to be actually in the film.

Singin' in the Rainham - in which there is singing. In Rainham. In the rain. "There was not a dry eye in the house," wrote Precipitation Week, "as the cinema's sprinkler system unexpectedly engaged halfway through our screening."

The Isle of Dogville - Lars von Thesummerwine's towering classic about Millwall Football Club's battle to avoid relegation. Set on the Isle of Dogs, the production faced near-insurmountable problems if you consider the fact MFC is now based in New Cross.

Epping Forest Gump - in which a slow-witted but charming simpleton decides, for some reason, to make a film about Epping Forest. Holds the accolade for being the only film in history that couldn't sell more than seven tickets to its own premiere.

9 1/2 Minutes - this steamy romance is set entirely in the intervals between trains on the Beckton branch of the DLR. A curiosity about this film is that parts of it eerily synchronise with parts of the first series of The Clangers, if watched simultaneously.

The Portuguese State Circus and the Blackwall Tunnel

2005-01-23T17:31:00.000Z

This isn't Londoner "Gumball" writes:

Designed by Sir Alexander Binnie and constructed by S.Pearson & Sons at a cost of £1.4 million, the first bore of the Blackwall Tunnel was opened by the Prince of Wales on the 22nd May 1897. Present at the inauguration ceremony, at the request of the then Mayor of London Lt .Col Horatio Davies, was the world renowned Portuguese State Circus and Travelling Freak Show.

As a symbol of the grand design and innovative construction that went into producing the new tunnel under the River Thames the Lord Mayor thought it would be fitting to request that the Portuguese Circus’s biggest and most loved act, the famous gentle giant Juan Leap should lead the procession through the tunnel. Although Juan could speak no English he gestured that he would be honoured to lead the procession.

As the procession set off Sir Alexander Binnie was approached by William Forman, a young reporter from the London Times newspaper who, fearful of the thought of actually going under the River Thames nervously enquired ;
“How long exactly is the tunnel?” to which Sir Alexander replied

“Forman, its one small step for Juan Leap, a kind giant man.”

It was at this point that tragedy struck. Unknown to all was the fact that Juan was taller than the tunnel opening. No sooner had the procession started than it was ground to a halt as the giant became stuck in the tunnel mouth. Confusion turned to panic as the crowds at the back pushed forwards, not knowing that their way was blocked. It was reported later in the London Times that it took almost 40 minutes to clear the road. Unfortunately Juan Leap later died from the head injuries he sustained as a result of walking into the commemorative plaque that was hanging over the tunnel mouth. Nobody else was seriously hurt in the incident but a valuable lesson was learnt, in that some form of height restriction would be necessary to prevent any future accidents of the same nature.

This incident is still celebrated to this day by the Portuguese who, at irregular intervals (usually during morning rush hour) will ignore all the posted warnings and attempt to send an over-height lorry driven by a man chosen for his complete ignorance of the English Language through the Blackwall Tunnel in honour of their beloved gentle giant Juan Leap. The historic relevance of this act however seems to be lost to the drivers of the vehicles behind him.

Filter Skelter

2005-01-08T15:59:00.000Z

Happy new year, everyone. A short post to get started.

It's a common saying that "all of London's drinking water has passed through seven other Londoners", because of the filtration system. Unlike most London sayings, this one is true. Those seven Londoners are Gary Spelman of Dollis Hill, Mark Phipps of Bow, Tom Zbigniew of Tottenham, Ethel Merman (no relation) of Charlton, Kenneth Frogmore of Borough, Connie Openshaw of Clapton and Vince "The Pincer" Magruder of Haggerston.

The Underground Secrets of Whitehall

2004-12-09T14:24:00.000Z

Everyone knows Whitehall is riddled with secret government bunkers and tunnels. Now, thanks to the recent declassification of various sensitive decuments - all previously classified as "mildly secret" - This Isn't London can reveal some of the hitherto murk Westminster underworld.

a: The Morlock Embassy. Eloi visiting hours 10am-4pm; please bring condiments.

b: The Phoney War Rooms. This network of tunnels and bunkers was used to fight the Phoney War, September 1939-May 1940. No major combat operations took place during this period, as the war was being fought in this very complex by the military top brass of both the axis and the allies. These generals ran around in the tunnels with cardboard guns, pointing them at each other and shouting "Bang! Bang! You're dead!", to which the "fatality" would respond with a series of grisly death noises. The Phoney War was called off, and the Proper War began, when a Thuringian Waffen SS officer failed to "die" when "shot" and instead shouted "Pe-ow! Ricochet!". [At Nuremberg in 1946, that officer was sentenced to a Chinese burn.]

c: Storage for spare Cenotaphs. It might look heavy, but the Cenotaph can be unbolted and moved fairly easily. There are several identical spare Cenotaphs, which are rotated regularly to reduce wear and tear, and a variety of "special edition" Cenotaphs that can be hired out when the Cenotaph is used for weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, birthdays and stag parties. Particularly popular is the motorised bucking rodeo mule.

d: Number -10 Downing Street. Directly underneath Number 10 Downing Street. Home of the shadow cabinet, and Michael Howard's crypt. The crypt can be visited by the public outside the hours of daylight, when it is not in use. See also "a".

e: The Boothroyd Foundation. It's an extremely traumatic experience for MPs to lose their seats at elections. Many members, having lost their place in parliament, find it impossible to readjust to real life and end up hanging around the gates of the commons, waiting for their old friends to come out at the end of the day. To help these tragic cases, a discreet clinic called the Boothroyd foundation has been set up, offering an exact replica of the debating chamber where defeated politicos can pretend they are still running the country.

f: Churchill's bunker. Contains Churchill's bunk.

g: Westminster Tube station platform five. Special government trains for a variety of locations - including Brixton, as I've already mentioned - depart from here. Other destinations include Chequers, Northolt airbase, Chessington World of Adventures, Bluewater, and France.

h: Government Correspondence Clearance Centre c-5. The GCCC, a division of Her Majesty's Stationary Office, deals with all complaints directed at the government. The government is unmoved by complaints - that's why it's called a "stationary office" - and so they're just thrown into a big pile here while a form letter is sent in reply explaining how your comments have been noted. The pile is rumoured to be quite impressive - George Clifton, a parliamentary undersecretary from the Home Office, attempted to climb it in 1967, but was killed by a landslip while traversing the north col, only 200 metres from the summit.

i: The Broad Sanctuary. A Site of Special Scientific Interest. As well as broads, it supports breeding populations of dames, dolls, moochers, wiseasses, big-shots and tough guys, eh.

j: This is an enormous cistern, used since 1905 as the world's largest reservoir of whitewash. The pipe pictured leads, or rather "does not intentionally mislead", to a variety of parliamentary offices, including the Committee on Standards in Public Life. The reservoir is at its lowest point since the Profumo Affair.

Hold the West Front Page

2004-12-06T10:43:00.000Z

The West Front of St Paul's Cathedral has been fully restored to its original glory. What are among the features of this project?

- the multicoloured disco lights under the cathdral floor, which were installed in the 1970s, have had their bulbs changed

- it's a little-known fact, but the West Front is hinged to allow the entry and exit of giant crabs. Why Wren specified this is rather mysterious, but nevertheless the hinges have been oiled and that annoying squeak has gone

- 18 new ringtones have been uploaded into the Cathedral bells, including the theme from Phantom of the Opera and Mr Ricky Martin's She Bangs

- a delicious new minty fragnance

- a particularly virulent infestation of earwigs could not be completely cleared, but they have now been converted to Christianity

- the words "Ha! You call that a Blitz?" in German have been cleaned off the Cathedral roof

- the encrusted dribble of the British press, a blight on the Cathedral since the marriage of Prince Charles and Lady Diana, has been chipped off

- the "Bird Woman", who has sold bags of crumbs from the front steps since the days of Mary Poppins, has been replaced with busty swimsuit model Janice

- the Cathedral is now 5% bigger, an inflation-busting rise.

The Gherkin Isn't Working

2004-11-24T13:49:00.000Z

Swiss Re, the owner of the Erotic Gherkin, is finding London's newest skyscraper hard to let. Why is that?

- Potential tenants mishear "crystal phallus" and think it is Crystal Palace, SE19.

- Potential tenants experience deep-seated insecurity and a vague sense of unease when approaching the building.

- In this time of downsizing, staff wary of moving to any building with the word "axe" in the street address.

- Floorplans dramatically decrease in size when the weather is cold.

- The thick, curly undergrowth that surrounds the base of the tower is offputting.

- The tower provides too many opportunities for lazy internet satirists to make cheap nob jokes.

Box Clever

2004-11-23T17:26:00.000Z

Well, my journey to work yesterday was ruined, like those of many others, by a signal failure at High Street Kensington, so I thought I would do a bit of research into how the Tube's signals actually work. Here are the results.

Pictured is G-10x signal unit, typical across the network:

Its components are:

A: The master signal control. The linchpin of the unit, the master control establishes what trains are on the line and which way the points are set. In a design that combines durability with resourcefulness, most of them are made from parts scavenged from toasters.

B: Signal relay board. This is the mechanical heart of the unit and provides back-up in the event of electronic failure. It's made from high-grade British plasticine.

C: Electronic control box (inset picture). Similar to those used in the reactor cores of the old Magnox nuclear power stations, this tangle of wires might not look like much but it was cutting-edge electronics in 1971, capable of providing computing power equivalent to a modern wristwatch. Once the Tube upgrade is completed in 2008, it will provide computing power equivalent to a modern digital watch. The wires are mainly surplus from the Romanian tractor industry.

D: I'm not entirely sure of the usefulness of this part. It's a yoghurt pot painted silver and stuck to the side of the unit with Pritt-Stick. It must do something important, because it's on most units.

E: System anchor. This ensures the unit isn't shaken to bits by vibrations caused by passing trains. It's held together by top-quality chewing gum (inset picture) and guaranteed by Wrigley's. Only Spearmint will do, unlike lesser networks that use Juicy Fruit.

F: Signal switch hub. This passes information from the signals back to trains and control rooms. It's a triumph of British design and miniaturisation: the box may look small, but the Tube engineers source especially small people to sit in them, pulling levers.

So don;t curse the next time you hear about a signal failure. These high-quality precision machines work faultlessly for hours on end, and failure rates have fallen significantly since the last balsa-wood components were eliminated.

Ĉu vi parolas Cockney?

2004-11-21T17:23:00.000Z

As any schoolchild could tell you - in between sending their 187th text message of the day and hacking into the CIA database - Esperanto was created in the 1880s by LL Zamenhof.

What is perhaps more obscure is the influence this idealistic "second language for the world" has had on London, and in particular its remarkable relationship with Cockney rhyming slang.

One of the earliest problems afflicting Esperanto during its early years was the absence of slang. Most languages had slang, and although Esperantists was convinced that in time slang would develop, they were concerned that "regional dialects" would develop along with it, undermining the original purity of the concept of a designed language. For instance, French speakers of Esperanto might develop a version of slang that differed from the German version.

Therefore it was decided in 1902 that a pre-emptive effort be made to systematise Esperanto slang, just as Esperanto had systematised language. A problem with this idea was that it might mean inventing new words, something Esperantists were reluctant to do as their language was meant to be more pure and elegant than that.

Then, they alighted upon Cockney rhyming slang. For the uninitiated, Cockney rhyming slang replaces everyday words and phrases with rhyming equivalents, so one would say "apples and pears" rather than "stairs", "rat and mouse" rather than "house" and "Warren Beatty" instead of "Comprehensive nuclear test ban treaty". This creates a kind of colourful code language.

Immediately, the Esperantists started translating Cockney rhyming slang into Esperanto and establishing equivalents to the most commonly used phrases (which mean "lovely", "oi", and "shouting").

Crack teams of Esperanto linguists and ethnologists descended on the East End to thoroughly catalogue and translate the language therein. However, once installed in the area - taking jobs as taxi drivers, market vendors and pub landlords - the experts ran into problems. For a start, the scale of the Cockney rhyming vocabulary dwarfed their expectations. Also, the rate that neologisms were added to it was incredible. In the five years of the operation - 1931 to 1936 - 135,000 expressions were captured, including 12,000 that had been invented during that time (including "seven shiny pence" for "Sonoluminescence", and "kitchen entry" for "Buck Rogers in the 25th Century").

With the crisis in Europe deepening, the decision was made to recall the teams and abandon the attempt. However, the Esperanto community was horrified to learn that many of its top experts had "gone native", having taken a liking to jellied eels.

Then, the Second World War intervened, and the entire episode looked like disappearing into history. But the spirit of Esperanto lived on. Absorbing the atmosphering of East London, the vestiges of the team were discovered in the 1950s to be perfecting a new "scientific language" that would remove the hard constanants from English and replace them with glottal stops. The so-called ESperanto TWO vocabulARY - ES-TWO-ARY English, later Estuary English - can still be heard today in East London and Essex.

Nevermore!

2004-11-15T16:42:00.000Z

The Guardian has reported that the story that the monarchy would fall if the ravens left the Tower of London is, in fact, tosh and baloney. It was invented by the Victorians.

But this is only the beginning of the sort of blood-curdling saga of skullduggery that regular readers will now be familiar with.

In the early 19th century, East London had a healthy population of ravens, although they were not particularly associated with the Tower. They were much loved by the people of the East End for their ability to be taught simple tricks such as riding small penny farthings and juggling, and they were also useful for scaring away rats.

This changed in 1845 with the publication of Edgar Allan Poe's poem The Raven. This charming and lighthearted story for children catapulted the large, black birds into the American popular imagination, and they swiftly became prized pets thanks to the easygoing and kind behaviour towards small children. The dark flipside of this was that the United States' population of ravens was swiftly depleted, and a trade in raven smuggling sprang up, aided by the East End's gangs of rogue ninjas.

Within months, the streets of East London were almost completely denuded of ravens. A mass petition was raised for the government to intervene and save the cherished birds, touching the heart of the young Queen Victoria. She ordered that no expense be spared in rounding up the birds and transporting them to the safety of the Tower.

This operation was a success, but hugely expensive. With the rest of the country questioning why so much money and time had been devoted to the wildlife of East London, a scandal was threatened.

Resourcefully, Victoria secured the services of a pamphleteer named Jerome Oundle. Oundle published a weekly title called The Illuminated London News. The ILN first appeared in 1830, when it was published on a shoestring. However, Oundle realised this made it very difficult to read and switched over to paper to publish his round-up of invented facts about the capital. By 1845 it was a modest success.

Oundle was asked to come up with a convincing story as to why it was in the national interest to herd the ravens into the Tower. His first attempt, claiming that ink produced from the raven black feathers was critical to the production of railway timetables, was widely derided. The scandal was turning from a minor row into a catastrophic farce, with the good name of the young Queen in peril and with it, the future of the monarchy. The public demanded that the Crown release the ravens from the Tower so that the remarkable inky properties of their feathers could be tested. Oundle said that this could never be allowed, and that to release the ravens now would cause the fall of the monarchy. The ploy worked.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

58 London things

2004-11-12T01:51:00.000Z

Here. I only had answers for a third of these, and a third of those answers were guesses.

Alfie: The Commentary

2004-11-10T14:53:00.000Z

The classic London film Alfie has been re-made by director Charles Shyer with Jude Law in the Michael Caine role. TiL, a site that appreciates London films, has been sent a sneak preview of part of the commentary track that will go with the DVD edition. Here is a transcript; the voices are Shyer and Law.

[Credits]

Jude Law: I think what really impressed me about ... what got me interested was how unnecessary this film was.

Charles Shyer: [Laughs.] Yeah.

JL: I mean, I really wanted to make a completely unnecessary film.

CS: The idea really came when I heard they were making Ocean's 12. I thought 'I can make a more pointless film'.

JL: It was fun.

[Opening scenes. Alfie is walking down a New York street.]

JL: New York, New York ...

CS: [Laughs] My kinda town!

JL: This isn't London. Why did you decide to set it in New York, not London?

CS: Oh, lots of reasons. I mean, London's like the co-star to Michael Caine in the original. It almost upstages Caine. It's an archetypal London film. So I thought 'Hey, we're draining all the life and soul out of this, London has to go!'

JL: Yeah. I also felt that setting it in New York added an unnecessary complication of it being a bit like [Woody Allen's 1979] Manhattan.

CS: Only much worse, obviously.

JL: Sure. But it just gives the film that extra edge of being utterly confused in atmosphere, directionless, a sodden mass of half-hearted homages and pastiche.

CS: Really? I didn't aim to give it that much depth.

JL: Now, I thought this scene was a real desecration. [Laughs.]

CS: Yeah! I mean, I really ripped the hell out of the character of Alfie in the screenplay -

JL: - I mean, Bill Naughton's stuff was OK in the 1960s and 1970s, you know, when people were interested in being challenged by issues of morality and society and shit, but now that stuff's kinda boring -

CS: - yeah, but all the same I was impressed by how Jude managed to play Alfie with absolutely no emotional depth whatsoever.

JL: Thank you! I mean, Caine played Alfie brilliantly, the smirking face of a real moral black hole, a sexual predator, the bastard child of the permissive society, and I thought 'I'm trying to find my own voice here, and all that stuff has been done, and besides, that sounds like hard work'. So I looked for my own voice, and found that it was 'automaton with commitment issues'.

CS: There are episodes of Ally McBeal that have more profound things to say about sexuality and society. That was really the benchmark I was aiming for. 'More shallow than a typical episode of Ally McBeal.'

JL: I really enjoyed shooting this film, partly because of how much it will annoy fans of the original, and partly in the knowledge that anyone else will walk away with nothing. And yet people will still go to see it.

CS: Yeah. Suckers.

JL: This scene was hard work, but I think we managed to ruin it ...

[Continued in the same theme for one and a half wasted hours.]

TiL's review of Alfie? Five stars! Out of 10,000.

Infrequently Asked Questions

2004-11-10T14:12:00.000Z

I checked one of the so-called "facts" on your website and found it wasn't true. Are you deliberately attempting to mislead?
Most of the stuff on this site is made up. I make it up. It isn't true. I am lying. This is fiction.

Aren't you worried that someone will believe you?
No.

But why bother?
I enjoy it. Besides, most of the so-called "factual" information about London either isn't strictly "true" - exhibit A, Mr Harry Beck's Tube map, and the station indicator boards in most Tube stations - or is so wildly unlikely as to be unbelievable. For instance, this is a city that believes it will fall if some birds leave a big castle, and its global icons are called things like "Pearly Queens" or "Beefeaters" or have big hats made out of bearskin. London seems to require a bit of suspension of disbelief from its residents and visitors.

Where do the ideas come from?
How should I know? Mostly from noticing something odd about London and thinking about how it ended up that way. Or from people saying "you should write something about Leicester Square".

So you do requests?
Yes.

I've written something. Would you like to use it?
Probably.

Why is there often a long gap between posts?
Sorry about that. I am sometimes a little short on inspiration, and I do have a day job and a variety of other demands on my time.

Oho! So what do you do with the rest of your time?
I'm a freelance journalist, and I'm trying to write a book that isn't about London.

Talking of books, I think something TiL-based would make an excellent stocking filler for my nephew. Any chance of a TiL book?
Maybe.

Why "Taxloss"?
It's a very long story. I am not devoted to the band Mansun, but have used the name of one of their songs as a screen name since university. My real name is Will.

I long for legalese, am wowed by waivers, desire disclaimers, and get off on technicalities. Would you mind showing me some small print?
Oh, OK then. This Isn't London is copyright, and that's proper copyright, not some namby-pamby tree-hugging "copyleft" creative commons-style re-use agreement. Copyright is reserved by the author. All quotes must carry linked attribution. In cases where I am not the author of a piece, the copyright for that piece is retained by its author.

Here's a Hint

2004-11-08T16:19:00.000Z

When looking for images of the statue in the middle of Piccadilly Circus, never ever do a Google Image search for "eros".

For Fawkes' Sake

2004-11-07T18:00:00.000Z

[Yes, I know this should have been published on 5 November, but I've been on holiday in Dorset. It was lovely, thanks for asking.]

As any schoolboy will tell you - in between asking for “Penny for the Guy” and stealing your mobile phone - the 5th of November remembers the failed attempt by Guy Fawkes to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605.

Fawkes’ attempt was doomed to failure from the start, but not for the reasons that history books so irresponsibly print. He packed barrels with a mixture of sawdust, Mighty Crackers, Thunderbolts and Krakatoa rockets, standard for any large fireworks display in the early 17th century, but rather than stacking them in the cellars, as most people assume, he first sited them in the Members’ Tea Room, hoping to blow up the parliamentarians as they fortified themselves with bath buns and Earl Grey (at that time Earl Grey served tea for members) before the opening of parliament.

Disastrously for the plot, most people assumed the barrels were there for a lucky dip and started to take the fireworks and let them off from the terrace. (This was, incidentally, considered to be a success by the members, who decided it would be nice to do it every year, as well as the traditional tombola, burning of Catholics, and bingo.) By the time Fawkes managed to wrest control of the barrels from the increasingly over-excited parliamentarians, most of his arsenal had already exploded over the Thames.

Furious with himself, swearing to vote Lib Dem next time, and terrified that he had been foiled, Fawkes dragged the now nearly empty barrels down to the cellar, where he discovered that all he had left was two Flash-Bangs and three packets of sparklers. He set off the Flash-Bangs himself but they failed to penetrate the cellar roof and simply bounced around, singeing his eyebrows (he had failed to retreat to a safe distance, which in the original plan had been France). Exhausted and deeply disappointed by the awful failure of his plans, Fawkes tried to cheer himself up by lighting a few sparklers and spelling his name in the gloom of the cellar. Again, poor planning caught up with him. With no bucket of water to drop the extinguished but still-hot sparkler sticks into, he dropped them onto the floor, where one soon kindled some wood shavings into flame. Terrified that the building might burn down with him in it, Fawkes ran for help, and the rest is history.

The Quality of Hosiery

2004-11-07T17:58:00.000Z

After the failure of Guy Fawkes’ plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament, several vital changes were made to Commons security. They included:

- Sergeants were no longer equipped with flimsy 15-denier tights but instead moved up to the much more robust 40 denier, which is better at preventing laddering.

- The guards at the gates were instructed to first check if anyone had ordered 40 barrels of explosives before waving them through.

- War was declared with France. The French had not been involved with the plot, but they were known to have gunpowder, they had certainly used gunpowder in the past, and frankly it was the sort of thing they were likely to do. Besides, invading France just felt like the right thing to do.

- It was decided that the Commons cellars could no longer be allowed to remain empty, so they we safely filled up with firewood kindling, tar paper, lamp oil, blotting paper and old curtains.

The Manhole Thieves

2004-10-25T13:17:00.000+01:00

Manhole covers are being stolen in Newham. Who are the potential culprits, according to the police?

- Irate feminists insisting that the manholes be renamed personholes.
- Cave-dwelling troglydytes attempting to gather more food.
- Subterranea Britannica on a recruiting drive.
- Jewellers on a hunt for larger, more distinctive "bling"-style meddallions.
- The provisional wing of the Ultimate Frisbee movement.
- Thames Water. Lifting manhole covers consumes valuable time and eats into dividends. This bold initiative would save enough to buy each board member a new golf club.
- The Criminal Underworld. These thefts would make the Underworld much easier to commute from.

Radio Ga-Ga #2: 1962-2004

2004-10-12T11:55:00.000+01:00

Continuing the bizarre tale of piracy, misdirection and hallucinogens that is the history of London radio started in the previous post. PLEASE READ THE FIRST POST FIRST!

1962 saw the launch of RADIO CAROLINE from a ship moored just off the Essex Coast. Incensed by this upstart, the BBC was furious and attempted legal proceedings. However, the Beeb did have one extremely useful trick up its sleeve - the Received English Act of 1934. Originally designed as a way of keept the Queen's English free of the taint of "provincial" accents such as Scouse, Welsh or Cockney, the REA gave the BBC massive power to decide what was and what wasn't "proper" English, power it immediately used to stop Radio Caroline and the other "pirate" stations from using capital letters. It would have to become radio caroline, and would no longer be able to use acronyms or abbreviations, forcing the station to say british broadcasting corporation rather than BBC, frequency modulation rather than FM and disc jockey rather than DJ.

This was purely a wrecking tactic, designed to waste caroline's airtime and hurt its credibility. The staff were furious, but could do little, and slowly turned to the brutal tactics of the Spanish Main in order to stay operational: boarding msaller pirate stations and stealing their records, for instance, and raiding coastal villages - a devastating raid by Simon Dee (or simon fourth-letter-of-the-alphabet, as he had to be known after the REA was enforced) on Sheerness in 1968 reduced the settlement to a smoking ruin.

Eventually, weakened by this campaign and torn by schisms, radio caroline ceased transmission and was boarded by the Royal Navy under the command of Lord Belfast. The seized ship was towed into London by a triumphant Establishment and moored next to Tower Bridge, after being renamed HMS Belfast (picture).

But caroline had already had its influence. Its battle-hardened crew - including simon 4th-letter, alan "fluffbeard" freeman and tony blackburn - quickly stormed the offices of the new Radio One and secured their places in broadcasting history. Meanwhile, another set of desperadoes decided to stick with London broadcasting after the ban on capital letters was lifted. Some set up the defiantly titled "Lower Case Broadcasting" and gave it the deliberately confusing abbreviation LBC, while the notorious Chris Tarrant - feared at sea, when he went under the name "Captain Smirk" - set up the equally defiant CAPITALS RADIO, later shortened to CAPITAL FM. (If you click on that link, notice how "capital" on the logo is all in lower case - another snub to the REA!)

And so, London's radio scene settled into its now-familiar pattern, although LBC died and the stations KISS FM and XFM arrived to cater for more modern music.

However, the last legacy of caroline and the REA was a daring raid on the BBC Radio London offices at the turn of the century. An unknown band of thieves, bearded men who reeked of rum, succeeded in making off with most of the letters of the station's name, leaving it absurdly truncated to LDN. This escapade took months to correct, and shows that the spirit of caroline lives on ...

Radio Ga-Ga #1: 1920-1962

2004-10-12T09:38:00.000+01:00

Like any thrusting metropolis worth its salt, London has a plethora of excellent radio stations to choose from (and Magic FM). However, for those of you who are new to the capital, or just visiting, or unaccustomed to the joys of the airwaves, or emerging from a lengthy bout of amnesia, or have only just recovered your lost sense of hearing, or hate radios but don't mind reading, I've prepared a little guide to them that details their fascinating, interlinked history.

Be warned. It's a bowel-loosening tale of piracy, spelling, hallucinogens and theft.

The first dedicated London station was the BAKER STREET BROADCASTING CORPORATION, which started operations from an aerial atop Selfridges on Oxford street in 1920. Rather than being a radio station as we understand it, its first purpose was to emulate an innovation popular in the West of the United States, where the plethora of new towns and cities, many of which looked alike, meant that to avoid confusion local radio stations had to constantly identify themselves so people knew where they were. Thus, the first words spoken on the London airwaves were: "Good evening. This is London."

This strategy was never quite abandonned, but over the months the BSBC's remit expanded to including news and some music for four hours a day. The then Prime Minister, David Lloyd George, read the traffic reports.

By 1922, transmitter technology had improved to the extent that the BSBC covered most of the country, and since no one else was interested in escaped donkeys on the Metropolitan Line, it was given a new name: The British Broadcasting Corporation. To replace the lost service, the BBC launched BBC RADIO LONDON in 1926. Almost immediately, 26 donkeys were flushed out of the Tube network.

And so things continued until the Second World War, when the Radio London frequency was given over to the Ministry for Propaganda. As part of the War effort, it was necessary to misinform the Nazis as to the whereabouts of the capital city - it was broadcast from a variety of locations including Bristol, Stafford, Hull, Inverness and successfully fooled the Nazis so much that Operation Sea Lion, the projected invasion of Britain, was planned on the basis that the capital was just north of Leeds. Meanwhile, a replacement service called RADIO FREE LINCOLNSHIRE was broadcast in the London area; all its announcers spoke in whispers at all times and every broadcast opened with the now-iconic words: "This isn't London. Ssh!" Because of this policy of hush, Whispering Bob Harris, later of the Old Grey Whistle Test, got his big break at RFL.

After the War, Radio London returned and retained a monopoly over the city airwaves until the 1960s. Tiring of its traditionalist outlook and unwillingness to innovate, a group of young, controversial and undeniably hip DJs including Alan Freeman ("Not 'arf!"), Noel Edmonds ("01 811 8055!"), Iain Duncan Smith ("Oooooh!") and Tony Blackburn ("Hurhurhurhur!") took to a barge in the Thames and changed history ...

The Blackfriars Antiviaduct

2004-10-04T14:38:00.000+01:00

A mysterious sight in London can be found next to Blackfriars Bridge. It's a set of what look like bridge piers running alongside the railway bridge (picture).

It's often assumed that these are the remains of an older bridge that was removed when it became obsolete. Not so. It is in fact that still very much operational Blackfriars Antiviaduct, a thrilling piece of Victorian innovation in the built environment.

An Antiviaduct is, in effect, an upside-down bridge - the vehicle-way runs along the river bed and the piers stick out above the water. Feeding into the Blackfriars Tunnel System (as previously explained on TiL), it was part of a route for the submersible Hackney ferries that crossed the river in the early part of the century after the invention of the Horse diving suit. These submersible Hackney carriages were a vital means of alleviating cross-river traffic as the surface ferry routes and bridges choked up; although hard work for the horses, they were a huge boon to their users.

But why, you might ask, would a bridge along the riverbed need piears at all? In fact, that's a foolish question as we are talking about a time when the suspension bridge was white-hot technology and still not in widespread use, so obviously the bridge needed piers to stop it floating to the surface. It would be years before a single-span Antiviaduct would be possible, and by then technology had moved on and the horse-drawn submersible Hackney Carriages were no longer needed.

A tourist service still operates at weekends during the summer holidays (low tide only).

Academic Circuses and Pedagogic Funfairs

2004-10-04T13:57:00.000+01:00

[A lost internet connection at TiL headquarters has made posting difficult of late. Apologies. I am working to clear the backlog.]

It is considered to be mere coincidence that the West End has three major intersections named after the three greatest English Universities: Oxford Circus, Cambridge Circus and Leicester Square. In fact, it is far from coincidental.

In the 17th century, when the area now known as the West End was fields, but was fast disappearing under a network of Aberdeen Angus steakhouses and Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals. Having suffered considerably during the English Civil War, the Great Universities found themselves in straitened circumstances, and had to search more widely for undergraduates and patrons. So, they set up camp in strategic fields near the growing centre of London and built circuses there.

These circuses featured not only preforming fellows of the universities - Professor Sidney Woolden, a theologian from Caius College, Cambridge, was particularly famous for his death-defying thesis-eating spectacle - but also entertaining sideshows such as "Guess the Weight of This Gloss of the Book of Philemon", "Drink a Yard of Port" and "Hammer the Swan" (often played in that order).

All this was intended to lure visitors who could then be given the "hard sell" on signing up to the universities. It is believed that Adam Smith was only lured to Balliol, Oxford, after being given a flyer at the Oxford Circus and believing he was going to a golf sale.

Now, sadly, all that remains of these noble spectacles is the spaces they once occupied.

And Now Over To Nostradamus For The Weather and Traffic

2004-09-24T14:14:00.000+01:00

[Kolley Kibber, who has evidently been rooting through the recycling bins at the London Library again, has made an astonishing discovery ...]

A lost quatrain written by Nostradamus is believed to be a depiction of The City Of London.

"Vegetable fascination leads to the creation of a towering glass cucumis anguria, which is laughed at by all,

"A good service on all lines except red infuriates the suits,

"A snappy named French pantry will saturate the stale baguette market,

"The bowler hat will be slowly phased out."

What The Numbers On Your Tube Ticket Mean

2004-09-20T18:58:00.000+01:00

A: Chance of arriving on time (%).

B: How many minutes into journey train will stop unexpectedly in a tunnel.

C: Length of that stop in tunnel in minutes.

D: Number of minutes into tunnel stop before someone will remark "This wouldn't happen in France/Germany/America/Japan, you know" on the basis of a week they spent there in 1994, during which they used the local railway network precisely once.

E: Number of curry varieties man standing next to you must have eaten the previous night to achieve his remarkable mixture of halitosis and body odours.

F: Estimated total length of delays to your journey in minutes.

G: Number of people in carriage who think they are on a Circle Line train (does not apply when using Circle Line).

H: Number of loud, badly behaved teenage German exchange students in your carriage.

Mill Hill East

2004-09-14T23:23:00.000+01:00

Introducing Mill Hill East, the repository of stuff that would be here if it wasn't true.

London Walks #1: Plutonium and Urchins in Borough

2004-09-10T13:41:00.000+01:00

Welcome to a new series of tours of interest around the forgotten byways of old London. We'll kick off with Borough, in scenic SE1.

Start the tour at Borough Tube - turn onto Marshalsea Road and then take the first left onto Platypus Street. The blue plaque above number 15 remembers Henry Matchison, who invented the blue plaque. Continue along Platypus Street and turn left at the gibbet.

This takes you onto Rundont Walk. The impressive brick building at the end of the street is The Old Plutonium Works, London's first nuclear power station, which became operational in 1927. Designed before nuclear fission and the splitting of the atom, power generation involved workers shovelling plutonium into a giant furnace, the intense heat from which drove a mighty set of bellows, which in turn turned a nearby windmill. It's an inspring example of cutting-edge technology.

From there left and then right onto Isandlwhana Gardens. To the left is George Bernard Shaw (don't give him any money - he only spends it on beards). To the right is The Hobscotch Institution, one of the city's few remaining workhouses. Listed by English Heritage and the Society for the Preservation of Unnecessary Cruelty, this interesting throwback to a more level-headed age is well worth a look. Its inmates, mostly between the ages of eight and 12, are generally speaking kept chained to the machinery inside, but for the edification of visitors some a chained to the outside wall. For sixpence, and urchin will carry your bags back to the Tube station from here, or maybe steal them.

Turn onto Orangey-Brown Street. Orangey-Brown Street was bombed flat during the Second World War, but still has treats in store for fans of modern architecture. Chief among these is Lactose House, which is designed in the Brutalist-Minimal Style. It was opened by the Mayor of Southwark in 1966, who, along with the other dignitaries in attendance, promptly realised that its rough-hewn concrete form was far too minimal to include decorations like doors or windows. It is believed that the architect may still be inside.

If you turn right sharply at this point while still looking up, as this writer did, you will trip over a stone horse drinking-trough. This will be followed by a rapid freestyle descent of Cornwallis Steps, and you should emerge from unconsciousness back outside Borough Tube station with your wallet missing.

Tally Hox!

2004-09-09T14:17:00.000+01:00

It's almost time for the 20th annual Hoxton foxhunt. Urban foxes colonised the north-east London district of Hoxton in the early 1980s, and the hunt was established in 1984 as a way of keeping the numbers down.

Although some consider it cruel, none can deny that the hunt is a stirring sight as it sweeps through the streets of N1. Horses can't cope with the irregular paving slabs, tarmac and permanent roadworks in that part of town, especially at speed, and so the huntsmen and women take up the chase on a fleet and Vespas and mini-scooters. Kills are celebrated with a round of skinny lattes or fruit smoothies, and most of the participants work in the design, new media and "creative" professions.

Despite the protestations of hunt saboteurs - who attempt to distract the hunters with cries of "UNKLE are shit!" - this urban hunt is a good deal more humane than its rural equivalent. The fox is not torn to pieces by hounds - the hunt dogs are all Sony Aibos and are rarely able to keep up with the pack, as well as not having teeth - but instead gently bored to death as the hunters enagage them in conversation about their iPods and what's they're bidding for on Ebay.

Transport Update

2004-09-09T14:11:00.000+01:00

The indomitable Kolley Kibber has provided this roundup of what's happening over- and underground ...

London Underground will now run a buffet service on all circle line and central line trains. Morning rush hour trains now include a buffet carriage, which will serve breakfast until nine thirty. The buffet carriages will also be used on the late night weekend trains serving Kebabs.

The replacement for the custom designed London Bus, The Routemaster, has been greeted with a mixed reception. The ‘Bendy bus’ has proved unpopular with many commuters. Plans to build a new London bus are being considered by transport officials. One of the major contenders is the triple-decker bus, which will include an onboard lift. Also in the running is the open-sided bus. The sides of the bus are replaced with a number of poles allowing passengers to board and alight the vehicle at any point. Proving the most popular idea though is to marry the triple-decker and the open sided bus, using a combination of ladders and slides to access the higher levels.

Kubrick's War

2004-09-07T13:06:00.000+01:00

Marxist guerrillas imported by Stanley Kubrick to add realism to the film Full Metal Jacket are still fighting the Vietnam War in Epping Forest. The guerrillas, borrowed from an insurgency in the Philippines, have recently claimed a breakthrough in their summer offensive, claiming almost a quarter of an acre from the groundsman with minimal casualties. If the clement September weather holds, an assault on the King's Oak public house is to be expected, or a fresh attempt to cut the strategically important north-south cycle route.

Peace talks brokered by Equity broke down in 2002 after the guerrillas learned their scenes had been left out of the final cut of the film.

Water, Water Everywhere

2004-09-02T16:36:00.000+01:00

The appalling wet August that London has suffered means that residents of the Greater London area are now entitled to a rebate from the Meteorological Office for loss of summer. This ordinance, brought in after the famously wet summer of 1952, entitles you to a welly full of crisp fivers, with deductions for any holiday you may have taken outside the city.

However, be advised that in taking up this rebate, you render yourself liable for a surcharge from Thames Water under the Water Supply (Freedom of Choice) Act 1991 section 15c: Involuntary Supplies as a large quantity of water was delivered to your house for free over the summer. As this surcharge often exceeds the Met Office rebate, the option is little used, but taking it out is invaluable for those wishing to learn the meaning of the phrase "mind-numbingly Byzantine bureaucracy".

Apology: It's Ackroyd's Fault

2004-09-02T16:34:00.000+01:00

The lack of posts over the past week was owing to the author recovering from injuries sustained in a fist-fight with Peter Ackroyd over the origin of the term "mind the gap". For those thinking of taking on Ackroyd in the future, be advised that he bites.

TiL Carnival Special: Politics and the Carnival

2004-08-28T20:39:00.000+01:00

[Part of a series of posts marking the 40th anniversary of the Notting Hill Carnival.]

William Hague, leader of the Conservative party for some laughably short period of time in the late 1990s, was roundly mocked for being a repulsive oik throughout his unfortunate period in the public eye, but never more so than after his ridiculous attempt to boost his standing by appearing at the carnival wearing a baseball cap [picture].

Absurd though this strategy was, he was not the first or last opposition leader to attend the carnival. The first was Margaret Thatcher, who visited in 1977. Her visit was unremarkable beyond the fact that she overdid the Red Stripe and was found face down in the gutter on Westbourne Grove.

Michael Foot eschewed the carnival after his bid to relocate it to County Durham failed. But his successor as leader of the Labour opposition, Neil Kinnock, went to the carnival in 1986 in an effort to rebrand it as "Labour's carnival". This Effort failed miserably, partly because many of the popular music stages were replaced with debates on issues such as nuclear disarmanent, proportional representation and Welsh devolution, but also because the Red Stripe was replaced with Northern bitter. However, on seeing the exuberant floral displays on many of the floats, the young Peter Mandelson allegedly found his inspiration to rebrand the Labour party with a red rose here.

Tony Blair never visited the carnival while leader of the opposition after his unfortunate LSD bad trip at Glastonbury in 1995, where he believed that God had spoken to him and told him to fight a crusade in a Middle Eastern country, an experience that never quite left him.

After that came William Hague's regrettable episode. We are left with the conclusion that the most successful visit to the carnival by an opposition leader was conducted by Ian Duncan Smith in 2002. Riding the lead float in the procession, IDS wowed the crowd with his reggae solo, his rapping of the Tory position on the European single currency, and a spirited session on the steel drums. The visit was almost entirely unreported in the UK press because of IDS's almost total irrelevance. However, it has led him to a successful life after leading parliament, touring as he does with Ja Rule.

TiL Carnival Special: Law And Order

2004-08-28T20:37:00.000+01:00

[Part of a series of posts marking the 40th anniversary of the Notting Hill Carnival]

In the 1990s, the carnival was notorious for being the scene of stabbings. However, in recent years community leaders have fought back against this sad statistic by issuing known gang members and parts of the criminal element with guns. The number of stabbings promptly fell to zero.

TiL Carnival Special: Dealing With Wankers.

2004-08-28T20:18:00.000+01:00

[Part of a series of posts marking the 40th anniversary of the Notting Hill Carnival.]

"Yah, I've been going carnival since 1982, and it was much better back then, more genuine, more real, not this corporate bollocks." It goes without saying that those found uttering these words are wankers - the vile expression "going carnival" gives that much away - but are they telling the truth?

Since last year's carnival, when TiL's creator was interrupted in his studies of how samba dancing resembled Iceni war-swaying by a web designer from Hoxton uttering something very similar, a vast study has been undertaken with the aid of local residents, carnival organisers, police and community leaders. 11,000 people were interviewed and more than 8000 separate statements were taken, and more than 2500 contemporary documents were studied. the following facts were ascertained:

1. These people are all lying. The only upper-middle class white young creative professional who went to the carnival in the early 1980s was Toby Randle, at the time a graphic designer for an advertising company in Chelsea. He had one and a half cans of Red Stripe, pretended to like Reggae, and then went home after feeling a bit uneasy.

2. The idea that the carnival is now more "corporate" than it used to be ignores the fact that from 1981 until 1986 it was owned and operated by the US telecoms corporation AT&T. It was principally used for the presentation of the annual report, teambuilding and staff training purposes.

3. A spot check on the family records of those making this claim fame that the vast majority of them were seven at the time, and spending their summer with their families in Buckinghamshire. Two of them were on holiday in Cornwall building sandcastles and throwing tantrums over candyfloss like the spoiled, selfish, deluded children they remain.

So that's that little trouble sorted out.

Henge Stones, It's The Henge Stones

2004-08-25T16:04:00.000+01:00

With the Bank Holiday Weekend approaching, it's feared that there may be more clashes between Police and Druids at Penge Henge. Many people regard the stones of Penge Henge to possess supernatural or pagan powers at certain critical points in the calendar, although other claim that they simply gather there to get drunk. The Police have trusted in the mystical properties of the Henge in Penge, south London, since their foundation, and traditionally gather there on the last Sunday of August to meditate, consider the natural beauty of Penge, and try on each other's helmets.

However, in recent years the suburb has been colonised by middle-class Druids who claim the gathering is noisy and frightens the children. Violence has erupted in the past as Druids have sealed off the Henge or attempted to break up gatherings of coppers.

"It's outrageous," says Merewic Thornshadow, a Druid of the fifth order. "We pay the rates and earn an honest living. I don't see why our right to enjoy the holiday in peace should be threatened by a bunch of layabout filth. They bring all sorts of animals with them, you know, sniffer dogs and horses and that. And why would they need sniffer dogs? Looking for drugs, that's why. I'm shocked, and so is my wife."

Meanwhile, the police claim provocation by the Druids. "We don't need no heavy Druids laying this fascist crap on us, man," says 42-year-old WPC Mabel Cooper of Richmond. "They go to far. We're just peacefully going about our business, and we get charged by these huge crowds of Druids. You should see the number that just come after a few constables."

Scooter Lanes Controversy Hits Camden

2004-08-25T15:58:00.000+01:00

"Kolley Kibber" writes:

Planning permission has been given to a motorised scooter lane on Fortess Road. After months of campaigning Betty Tingwell, a local senior citizen, and Sheila Bow, whose five-year-old son was knocked down by a scooter in January, have persuaded Camden Council to build a pathway specifically designed for motorised scoters. The path will run from Ashton Court Retirement Home, Ascham Street to Hampstead Heath bowling green taking in parts of Fortess Road and Highgate Road.

The Council finally yielded after five hundred people signed a partition in support of the project. Betty Tingwell was delighted with the result and spoke out for retirement communities everywhere. "I am so tired of having to weave in and out, people walk incredibly slowly. I urge other scooter users in London and anywhere else for that matter to push for the cause, you can change things for the better" Mrs Bow was just relieved to be able to walk with her son in safety. "Ashton Court is a particularly expensive home. All the residents have money to spend and it seems many of them choose to spend it on these blasted scooters. The streets round are packed with scooterists many of which drive dangerously fast and a lot of the drivers can't see very well."

Plans for a lane outside Waitrose are already being considered.

The Beginning of The Line

2004-08-23T18:41:00.000+01:00

At last, the secrecy that has kept me from posting can be lifted. London is getting a new newspaper, featuring the tawdry musings of yours truly, and the first column has now appeared in the pilot edition. Go read. It's about how the Circle Line demonstrates London is the Lost City of Atlantis.

When Battersea Was At Wembley

2004-08-22T23:13:00.000+01:00

Battersea power station was not orginally designed as a power station. It was, in fact, built as the world's biggest pipe organ, built for impressing visitors to the British Empire Exhibition at Wembley in 1924. Its four mighty pipes where capable of blowing notes of 11,000 decibels, and had to be operated by a team of 300 stevedores labouring unceaselessly in the heat and clamour of the keyboard room (in this picture, two operators take a break before a particularly difficult change in octave). Operating in full flight, the Empire Wembley Organ could smash windows as far away as Swiss Cottage and is know to have driven three people insane.

The military spotted its potential immediately, and diverting funds away from the nascent tank-build programme to develop mighty portable War Organs to deafen and terrify enemy armies. Lord Kitchener foresaw ringing britain with a chain of mighty organs to destroy approaching fleets, but sadly the onset of the Great Depression meant this was never to be. However, the military continued to work on the psychological might and power of the organ and enhance the technology, which is why every British squaddie now carries a Kazoo at all times.

After the fair, though, the Empire Wembley Organ fell out of use, and the land it occupied was needed for other purposes. A debate, echoing the one today, raged over how it should be dealt with. The last straw came in 1934, when a boiler explosion during a performance of the Flight of the Bumble Bee killed seven workers and unnerved five others. The organ was schedule for demolition; it was only when its potential for generating electricity was pointed out that it was instead moved to its current location and wired to the grid.

Morgentonnen-croissant?

2004-08-20T16:06:00.000+01:00

A brief note of apology for the paucity of posts presently - TiL is being developed as a project in several directions at the moment, with some exciting announcements soon (if you're easily excitable). A new entry will appear this evening and again tomorrow or sunday, so watch this space. Meanwhile, here's The Tube Map In German.

175 Years of the Metropolitan Police

2004-08-16T18:36:00.000+01:00

The debate over policing and law & order provides a ~~flimsy pretext~~ valuable opportunity to have a quick look at the history of the Metropolitan Police.

As every schoolboy knows, the Met was founded in 1829 by Sir Robert Peel. How much power the new "police constables" (or "Berties") should have was a hot topic at the time. To begin with, they were authorised to issue stern rebukes for most crimes, generally speaking declaiming the miscreant for not being a good egg. For more serious offences, a strongly-worded letter might be written.

The deterrent effects of this approach were limited, and the early force had little impact on crime. A review in 1834 beefed up the police's powers to include occasional cuss words in serious situations. But still, some felt the force was a bit of a joke.

Incensed by the criticism, Peel replaced his new force with a 20,000-strong army of ninjas. Fast, silent and extremely deadly, these heavily armed assassins were a strong deterrent to wrongdoing. Crime fell heavily across the city, as did the population of certain boroughs.

The Metropolitan Ninja Army (or the "Ninj", as it became known) was, however, extremely unpopular and began to reflect badly on the government of the time. The mounting cost of Throwing Stars was also a problem. By 1839, the Berties were reintroduced after the city promised to be on its best behaviour.

Interestingly, though, no-one was brave enough to tell the ninjas that their services were no longer required, and their reign of terror in the East End continued until 1848, when they got a better pay offer from the city of Chicago.

This fascinating episode is the origin of the Met's motto "Cave Ninjarum" (Look out! Ninjas!).

Cop That, Fritz

2004-08-16T15:26:00.000+01:00

Fizzwhizz writes:

Film and architecture fans will doubtless have spotted that central London's Shell Centre has a starring role in Fritz Lang's seminal film Metropolis.

But you may be surprised to know that the film wasn't fictional: it was actually a documentary exposing the mistreatment of workers in the factory underneath the Shell Centre itself. The factory was closed in 1928 after the film provoked a public outcry in support of the thousands of identical men forced to toil there, day after day, in futile attempts to control giant, three-handed clock faces. The catacombs were converted into the Northern Line a year later, and eagled-eyed commuters will notice the remains of the crosses that surrounded Maria's altar as they pass through Embankment.

The pleasure garden populated by rosebud-lipped dancing girls on the top floor of the building remains, however; only the company's top executives are given access and the staircase leading to the workers'creche has been permanently sealed, thus avoiding any repeat of the nasty incidents seen in the film.

There have been no evil androids created in the Shell Centre since 1945, although rumours to the contrary resurfaced persistently during the premiership of Margaret Thatcher.

Change Here For Monuments

2004-08-10T14:08:00.000+01:00

Central London is packed with famous statues and monuments - Eros, Nelson up his column, the Cenotaph, the Monument - but there's a lot more to be discovered than just the postcard-fodder. Here are some of the lesser-known brass and marble gifts from our forebears.

The Tomb of the Unknown Itch (Birdcage Walk): A touching monument to the British lice who gave their lives during the first and second World Wars. Don't stand too close.

King Vlacendeka of Bieyenku (Holland Park Avenue): 11th-century Slavic king known as Hammer of the Prices. Presented by the British Council to the newly-independent Danezkivakian people in 1991 to go outside their embassy; Danezkivakian people later discovered to be a prank by medical students.

Morph Triumphant (St George's Circus): The world's only plasticine statue.

Prince Fenwick, Duke of Teesside, eighth in line for the throne in 1789 (Duncannon Street): Not strictly speaking a statue, as this is actually the remains of Prince Fenwick, deposited where they fell after an ugly disagreement over an unpaid insurance premium.

The Harold Frankner Memorial (Mount Pleasant): A tribute to the brilliant mathematician, economic theorist and social philosopher who was the first and so far only Briton to figure out exactly which combination of electricity, gas and phone suppliers and packages would offer him the best value for money. He died, exhausted, two months after this crowning achievement in 2002.

See How You Like It (Green Park): One for fans of modern art, this is a concrete cast of Rachel Whiteread's innards.

Fanfare for the Fallen (Euston Square): Premature in concept and over-ambitious in design, this still-incomplete megalith comemorates the dead of five World Wars.

Styrene Boxes, Circling in Wind (McDonalds and Burger King branches across the city): Free-floating conceptual installations sited outside the capital's burger joints. A moving commentary on transcience and loss, or something.

In Sickness And ...

2004-08-08T15:23:00.000+01:00

London has been the venue for many pioneering public health schemes over the years, ranging from John Snow's work to identify the causes of Cholera to Bazalgette's construction of the sewer system. But for every breakthrough in public health, there have been numerous horrible failures. Here we list the top 10.

10. Typhoid: Nature's Beautician for Healthy Skin. Pamphlet, 1871.

9. Dr Feniloe's Radium and Lead Cutlery. Withdrawn 1894.

8. Barking Spa. Renamed "Northern Outfall Sewage Works", 1904.

7. The Killer In Your Home: Why Privies Belong At The Bottom Of The Garden. Book, first and only edition dated 1922.

6. Lawnmower Repairs For The Under-Fives. Book, pulped 1971.

5. Botulicks. Popular frozen-milk snack until 1959.

4. Our Friend Anthrax. Government film produced 1952, shown twice.

3 AIDS: It'll Probably Go Away By Itself. Pamphlet, withdrawn 1982.

2. The Daily Mail. Various stories including "New Asylum Seeker Breast Cancer Threat to House Prices", "Flirting: The Cancer Connection" and "Did Nostradamus Predict BSE Using The Bible Code?", 1971-2004 and on.

1. The Rat Diet. Controversial nutrition advice until 1348.

The Magic Lantern Punch and Judy Clockwork Orange Horrorshow

2004-08-05T13:00:00.000+01:00

The current controversy over whether murders have been inspired by violent films or computer games is nothing new. In fact, similar debates have been raging in London for almost 2000 years.

In Roman London, this controversy first reared its head after the unveiling of a new mosaic of the fall of Carthage at the forum. Its depiction of the violence inflicted on the stricken city was said to be graphic, and within a week a man was found two street away cut into half-inch squares. The mosaic was swiftly covered up.

Another notable instance was the infamous furore that surrounded the growing popularity of magic lantern picture shows in the 1830s. At one particular establishment - Messrs Lagrange And Their Coloured Light Amazeum - a show entitled "Mrs X Walks Her Dogs" is believed to have sparked a craze for dog ownership - a harmless enough pursuit, you might think, until you consider that the show ran as an unending loop and thus led to several cases of exhaustion and The Vapours.

Indeed the Lagranges' establishment seems to have courted controversy. A showing entitled "The Wronged Customer Wreaks His Bloody Revenge" was accused of directly leading to the Umbrella Salesmen Massacre of 1839. The Lagranges hotly contested this claim, but undermined their case by following The Wronged Customer with an attraction called "The Satisfied Customer Gives The Lagrange Brothers All Their Money".

We shall not linger long on the Punch & Judy killings of the 1890s but to say that the culprit was almost certainly a man in a crocodile suit rather than an actual crocodile, all shows at the time carried clear warnings that that was not the way to do it, and that the murderer's modus operandi led directly to important safety laws that finally banned the inclusion of six-inch nails and lead shot in sausages.

On a related note, the world’s first clockwork orange was shown at the Great Exhibition in 1851. The spring-driven geared citrus could be an orange at three different speeds, easily adjustable by switch, and only needed winding every four hours. It was a popular success, easily outselling Stevenson’s Patent Steam-Piston Pear, which had a tendency to overheat.

The Vertical Lidos

2004-08-02T16:11:00.000+01:00

From 1880 on, open-air vertical lidos were very popular in London. Requiring little more than some water, a tiled surface and a large diving platform to erect, they sprang up across the city and attracted great crowds.

The largest and most lavish was in St John's Wood. The Wellington Road Vertical Swimming Ponds and Spa was centred around a 45 feet-high cube of freestanding water that visitors could dive into from the tallest diving platform in the world or walk into at ground level. But you had to be careful once inside, because a nasty fall could result if you fell out of the side.

It was, of course, most popular in summer, when people could pay their penny and just stroll in for a refreshing dip, but it froze into a solid block of ice in winter. Nevertheless, it could still be seen surrounded by small children, either because their tongues were stuck to it or, in the bitter winter of 1948, because they were admiring the lithe body of Walter Samuels, who loved the lido so much that he refused to come out and had to wait until the spring thaw of 1949.

Unfortunately, the growing popularity of "baths" or "pools" eroded the visitor-base of the vertical lidos and one by one they closed. The Wellington Road was the last, and only closed in 1957 after it was found to breach section 1.1a of the new planning act, "Gravity: Compliance with". But even today you can meet people who'll tell up they regularly "swam up the Wellington".

Two Plans for London: #2

2004-07-31T16:04:00.000+01:00

Wren wasn't the only one to have grand designs for this fair city. In 1951 architect and intellectual Thaddeus Roshanak unveiled his new for a rebuilt London to a breathless crowd in Methodist Central Hall. Roshanak was an arch-modernist and his plan displayed the clear influence of Le Corbusier's Plan Voisin for Paris, but was far, far more radical.

Under Plan Thaddeus, Central London from Ludgate to Bayswater and from Charing Cross to Regent's Park would be demolished. In its place would rise a new, modern city of gleaming white towers and broad, straight avenues. The railway stations would be combined into a new 72-platform central station, linked by tram to Paddington Airport, where Oxford Circus now is.

So far, so predictably Corbusier-style. But Roshanak's genius went further. None of his new streets would have corners, which he despised, and would thus only run east-west. Pedestrian traffic would be carried by looping travelators arranged in a stylised form of the coat of arms of the Royal Institute of British Architects. In a nod to the city's destroyed heritage, the 40-storey residential and business tower blocks of the centre would be thatched. The central station would only accomodate inbound trains in order to promote tourism. And the new city would be entirely nuclear-powered, with each flat and office having its own reactor.

Understandably, the radical plan met with a mixed response. The National Trust called it "barbaric". The Royal Fine Arts Commission wanted to know if it was "some kind of sick joke". Malcolm Muggeridge praised its "excellent benches". And the Evening Standard was so horrified it refused to come out for four days.

In the end, Roshanak lost his fight for the plan and it was consigned to the dustbin of history. Intensely disillusioned, Roshanak quit architecture and became a freelance mermaid.

Two Plans for London: #1

2004-07-31T15:54:00.000+01:00

It's a common misconception that time constraints and greedy developers confounded Christopher Wren's plan for the rebuilding of London after the 1666 Great Fire (here). This is not true.

The real story is rather more mysterious. After hearing that the city fathers were minded to approve his grandiose plans, Wren went on a terrific all-night drinking session with Robert Hooke. After drinking some twelve pints of Old Vituvius Ale - which he and Hawksmoor arranged into the secret twelve-cornered hexagon of the Masonic God Jabulon (or something) - he passed out and rolled under the table.

When the next day came, he awoke to discover not only that he was late for the meeting that would formally endorse his plan, but also that Hooke had spilt beer all over it. The ink was running quite badly, but there was no time to do it again, so Wren attempted to fill in the gaps and repair it while on the way to Westminster.

A combination of the rubble-strewn streets and an attack of the morning-after shakes meant his new version of the plan possessed few of the clean, crisp lines of the original. Nevertheless, his plan was approved and remains the basic layout of the city of London today.

Pot Needle

2004-07-30T13:10:00.000+01:00

This isn't Londoner Pom du Cap writes:

Cleopatra's needle is a well known landmark on the north bank of the Thames near the Embankment tube station. What is less well known is how it got its name. Some speculate that it is because of its pointed shape, but the truth is more interesting. The obelisk was presented as a gift to London in the 19th century by the rulers of Egypt, who were less than impressed with Britain's foreign policies of the time. They decided to get their own back in two ways. The first was to make a great show of presenting the monument to the British High Commissioner in Egypt, but then to make it Britain's problem to get the thing back to these shores. The transport by boat, and the subsequent erection took months, cost the British authorities a small fortune, and produced no end of problems. The second thing the Egyptians did was to cover the needle in hieroglyphics, which of course the Londoners could not read. Years later it transpired that the etchings translated as rude jibes at Queen Victoria, and the British in general.

When this story got out, the Londoners started to refer to the monument as "Cleopatra's Needle". The Egyptian queen had of course been dead for a while by this stage, but the combination of her name and the word "needle", taken colloquially to mean wind up or irritate just seemed to fit, and the name stuck.

The Longest Year

2004-07-27T15:33:00.000+01:00

It's still 1998 in the London Borough of Newham. The reason for this rather odd fact stems from the calendar reforms of 1752; as part of a political compromise to adopt the Gregorian calendar, the burghers of Newham were given the right to ratify every new year's calendar before it came into force.

This ratification proceeded like clockwork for more than 200 years, with the new calendars passing into local law on the nod. However, the debate over the endorsement of 1999's calendar proved to be unexpectedly contentious as the affair became entangled with a dispute over the funding of the Millennium celebrations. The ensuing deadlock has yet to be broken, although a meeting scheduled for December the 2027th 1998 may provide a breakthrough.

The Treasures of the British Museum

2004-07-27T14:13:00.000+01:00

The Elgin Marbles may be the most notable example, but as the Director of the British Museum says in this article: "The range of the British Museum's collections is truly worldwide." So, what other ~~booty~~ ~~plunder~~ ~~spoils of conquest~~ disputed cultural treasures can be found in the museum's hallowed halls?

* The contents of the original Parthenon gift shop, including a wide selection of postcards

* A Hittite frieze depicting what is believed to be the first ever game of Twister

* Ayer's Roll, stolen from Australia in 1802

* Fourteen tonnes of pieces of the True Cross

* The mummified feet of St Ockwell

* Bangalore's tram network

* Former Swiss Finance Minister Otto Stich

An Eye for the Eye

2004-07-23T13:11:00.000+01:00

Planning permission for the London Eye runs out next year. Remarkably, it's been suggested that this great tourist attraction and adornment to the London skyline might have to be taken down forever, or maybe re-erected elsewhere. So what are the other options?

* Wheel to be accelerated slowly until it dismantles itself

* Easyjet to take over sponsorship from BA; ticket prices will drop to £1 but the view will be of Luton

* Dismantled and re-erected horizontally on top of the Telecom tower to act as a giant merry-go-round

* Dismantled; pods converted into pedaloes and set afloat in Thames

* Dismantled and put into storage for 994 years so that it can be re-erected on the same spot and fail to turn on December 31st 2999

* The wheel will be unhooked from its spindle and, thus freed, will roll around the country solving mysteries and avenging wrongs

* How about this: Despite its popularity, dismantled in an act of bureaucratic vandalism, put into storage, much of it melted down and turned into ashtrays, then re-erected on the same spot 55 years later after a popular campaign? Yeah, right, that'll never happen.

Coming soon: the Desertorium

2004-07-21T15:07:00.000+01:00

Inspired by the success of the Barnes Wetland Centre, where disused reservoirs were converted into a haven for bird life, London authorities are planning a follow-up. The London Desertorium, planned for a nine-acre former civil service car park in Balham, will recreate a desert ecology a mere stone’s throw from the city centre.

When completed, a process requiring 19,000 tonnes of sand and rock, the Desertorium will simulate the 40 degree celsius noon temperatures of the world's most extreme deserts with the aid of a series of powerful arc lamps. It will be stocked with all the exotic flora and fauna one would expect to find in a desert, including camels, venomous snakes and black widow spiders, scorpions, stinkbugs, praying mantises, vultures and rampaging Berber tribesmen.

Bring the family!

The Dog Barons

2004-07-20T13:17:00.000+01:00

All of London's dogs are owned by the same company. Amalgamated Canine Industries was founded when the dog population of the city was nationalised under the Attlee government in 1948, and its holdings were leased back to the pooches' former owners. Since then, this company has, in various forms, regulated all dog activity in the capital.

However, it was not always successful. Inefficiencies and strikes in the late 1970s plagued ACI, and ultimately led to some dogs going as much as three days without walkies. Hampstead Heath was littered with unreturned sticks, and the Minister for Employment struck out at some of those involved, claiming "I have found many to be not very good boys at all".

In 1987, Thatcher privatised ACI in order to improve its competitiveness, and in 2001 the company rebranded as ProCanis.

On a related topic, it's interesting to note that, although they operate on a freelance basis, the squirrels of St James's Park are unionised. This makes them the third most organised group of animals in London after dogs and wombles. Wombles do not have their own union, but most are members of Unison, the public service union.

The New East End

2004-07-18T15:29:00.000+01:00

The Government's solution to London's chronic housing shortage is to expand the city to the east. However, a lot of people don't really like the idea of living in east London. To tackle this image problem, the Deputy Prime Minister has proposed the "rebranding" of certain districts to make them sound more attractive.

For the first time, TiL can exclusively reveal what the new names will be.

Dagenham --> "MoTown"
Barking --> "Thames Riviera"
Poplar --> "Popular"
West Ham --> "Parma Ham"
Deptford --> "Prudenceford"
Mudchute --> "Chelsea East"
Blackwall --> "Domeview"
Stratford --> "Stratford upon Avon"
Canning Town --> "Candem Town"
Beckton --> "Beckham"
Woolwich Dockyard --> "Marlowe Marina"
Rainham --> "Sunnytown"

And so on. A vast improvement, I think we can all agree.

The TfL Vision for the Railways

2004-07-16T13:15:00.000+01:00

Mayor Ken is to take over London's railways. What will this mean?

* Old Routemasters to be used as spare carriages on congested lines

* Now the Mayor's office has King's Cross, Marylebone, Fenchurch Street and Euston stations, it can charge everyone who uses them £200

* Prince's Risborough, Luton and the other outlying commuter areas are to be reclassified as "Lesser London"

* Trains now liable for congestion charge

* "Normal" service to be renamed "wonderful" service

* "Integration" of train, Tube and bus services mean that delays will be harmonised across the system as soon as scientists have developed a way to cause buses to suffer signal failures. Similarly, commuters will be pleased to hear that strikes will now be synchronised across all three services

* Birmingham next on Ken's list

* By 2008, railways will demonstrate the same level of improvement that the Tube has since 2000.

Paddington Airport

2004-07-15T17:54:00.000+01:00

From 1928 to 1968, there was an international airport near Paddington station. As the closest airport to the West End, it was extremely popular, handling more than 30,000 customers a day.

This is depite the fact that, because Paddington International was in the middle of an extremely built-up area, planes had to taxi into the terminal from Northolt, travelling down the Westway.

The airport had to close in 1968 because the wider wingspans of modern planes could no longer handle the turning into Harrow Road.

The Egyptian Gods of Green Lanes

2004-07-15T17:14:00.000+01:00

As a lifelong inhabitant of the royal borough of Haringey, I am often asked why the name of the borough is spelt as above while the neighbourhood that stretches from Manor House to Wood Green is called Harringay.

The answer is somewhat unexpected: the extra r and a are a tribute to the Egyptian sun god Ra, who has been worshipped in the Green Lanes area for at least 6000 years. His temple is now the car park at the McDonald’s DriveThru but Ra’s followers still meet on the first Monday of every month at Johnny English Potatoes and Melons under the railway bridge. To join the congregation, just go to the counter and ask for Tut.

Contributed by CS.

10 Remarkable Facts About the Simon & Garfunkel Concert Tonight

2004-07-15T17:09:00.000+01:00

1. The gig will use enough cabling to stretch all the way to Paul Simon's home town of Pydehark, New Jersey.

2. A brace of specially trained stunt condors has been shipped in from Argentina and will be released for the closing chorus of "El Condor Pasa".

3. Art Garfunkel's rider includes a handbag-sized can of Charles Worthington No More Frizz hairspray, a 500ml bottle of Body Shop Vitamin E Body Lotion and a copy of the 12th edition of Chambers Guide to the Legal Profession.

4. Diana, Princess of Wales, is known to have been a big fan of Watership Down and psychics believe there is a 95% chance that, if the duo play "Bright Eyes" at midnight tonight, her spirit will appear floating above the memorial water feature that was recently erected in her memory.

5. Other celebrity visitors tonight will include Euan Blair, Salman Rushdie and H from Steps.

6. Peter Gabriel will come on towards the end of the gig to do some backing vocals in that yelpy way he has of singing.

7. One of the few things that Art and Paul have in common nowadays is that they both suffer from hay fever, so the park's grass has had to be temporarily removed and replaced with astro-turf.

8. Rumours that Paul and Art can't stand to be around each other these days are totally untrue: in fact, they will share a trailer and will doubtless be keen to continue the game of chess they have been playing since 1972.

9. Paul Simon is, in fact, two inches taller than Art Garfunkel, but a clause in their contracts dating back to 1959 (when the duo were a skiffle act called Simofunkel) states that Art will not perform unless wearing stilts.

10. The auto-tuner used by Paul Simon's guitar technician was confiscated at US customs because apparently its case can easily be dissambled and turned into a lethal terrorist weapon powered by the chemicals used to scent the moist towelettes offered to passengers in first class on Virgin planes. Luckily, however, the canary used by the crew to detect poison gas leaks has been found to chirrup a perfect A and tonight, this will be used to tune Paul's guitar.

Contributed by Fizzwhizz.

Tarantino's Lost London Film and the First Italian Restaurant

2004-07-14T15:25:00.000+01:00

This isn't London has been inundated by two emails from Fizzwhizz and CS. Here they are ...

Four killings and a film deal
Quentin Tarantino's most recent films were originally to be called Kilburn 1 and Kilburn 2, writes Fizzwhizz. They were to be set in the eponymous north London suburb and featured an angry housewife's attempts to get revenge on the man who sold her a jar of gefilte fish so dodgy that it gave her husband a bad stomach upset and left him unable to attend his own daughter's wedding. The Lucy Liu character was originally to have been a comedy Indian grandmother played by Meera Syal; Bill was to have been a self-conscious upper-class fop played by Hugh Grant.

However it was decided to move the setting to America and increase the martial-arts content of the movie after studio executives became concerned that a gentle ensemble comedy would not afford sufficient opportunities for a video-game follow-up.

Taxloss responds: I heard a similar rumour. Apparently the posters were to be based on the traffic markings on West End Lane, an influence that can still be seen in the posters.

“Of course, this is nothing like the food we had at the Medicis”
The first Italian restaurant in London opened almost 300 years before the creation of the Italian state, in 1582, writes SC. Its proprietor was one Carlo Ghiradino, who had left his mother’s house at the tender age of 41 to bring the secrets of her kitchen to a wider audience.

He set up shop on Dogspit Lane, in the heart of the capital’s epicurean district. He could not forget home entirely, though, and honoured the tiny city-state from which he came – Tremestino (turn left at Piedmont and please drive carefully) – by covering his wooden tables with its distinctive red-and-white checked flag.

Before long, Carlo was the toast of Elizabethan London and his humble hostelry echoed to the sounds of fashionable diners exclaiming: “I remember this place when it was actually run by Italians” and “Of course, your actual Tuscan fisherman will eat something entirely different”. Soon, Ghiradino was able to enhance his décor with miniatures in oils depicting himself welcoming celebrities of the day such as Sir Walter Raleigh, Kit Marlowe and, on one memorable occasion, Queen Elizabeth herself. It was reported that she did not like the gnocchi.

Ghiradino was truly the city’s first celebrity chef, but his fame did not last. After being falsely accused of being a Venetian spy – a rumour first spread by a jealous member of the Worshipful Company of Gammon Fashioners – he was imprisoned in the tower. On 17 April 1587, he was doused in boiling olive oil and flash-fried with garlic before an audience of jeering Londoners. His last, agonised, words were: “No, you must tear the basil.”

Thanks, guys!

The Begging Charge

2004-07-14T14:45:00.000+01:00

The Mayor's office is apparently planning to follow the Congestion Charge with a similar scheme to cut down on overcrowding at the city's more popular begging sites.

Prime pitches such as around the Hungerford Bridge, along the South Bank and near mainline stations including King's Cross and Victoria will be marked with a large B surrounded by a red circle. Use of them will cost £5 a day.

A well-placed source told TiL: "What do you mean it's an outrageous abuse of power? We're perfectly within our rights. This scheme will raise thousands, thousands I tell you. Thousands! Folk music concerts in Trafalgar Square don't pay for themselves, you know. Now get out of my office."

Thanks, Herman

2004-07-14T14:26:00.000+01:00

Heavy German bombing during the Blitz actually increased property prices in Walthamstow.

Hello Guardian Readers

2004-07-13T19:13:00.000+01:00

This site was featured on the Guardian Unlimited Weblog yesterday, and as a result traffic to this site has increased a bit. About 7000%. Anyway, as a result I've made some changes; you can now see my profile, which has an email address for this site and is throbbingly dull, and (hopefully) leave comments even if you don't have a blogger account (or something).

I only mention this because I welcome feedback and also maybe submissions, although I haven't really thought that part through.

Normal service will now be resumed. Over and out.

Minority Report

2004-07-13T14:24:00.000+01:00

London’s smallest minority is Mr Uighr Denala, the city’s only representative of the Tamlyk people from a distant corner of the blasted tundra of Siberia. He is also the editor of Hnk Tamlyku (“Hey, Tamlyks”), the capital’s only Tamlyk-language newspaper, and lead DJ of its sister radio station ?Ulk Temo Prghu? (“Is there anyone out there?”).

Where Did All The Pigeons Go?

2004-07-13T12:02:00.000+01:00

Mayor Ken Livingstone’s scheme to rid Trafalgar Square of pigeons has been extremely successful. So where have all the pigeons gone?

34% KFP
29% Guest presenter slot on Newsnight Review
15% Always wanted to visit Venice
8% Suing pedicurist
7% Writing memoirs
3% That infuriating tea advert
2% Auditioning for remake of The Birds, plotting revenge.

The Many Duties of the Stanners

2004-07-12T19:27:00.000+01:00

The Worshipful Company of Stanners, a livery company, was founded in 1321 to recognise a form of civic official unique to London. "Stanners" were - and still are - licensed to make arrests, practice as a doctor, conduct weddings, advise on astrological issues, divine for wells, issue financial advice, hunt deer within city limits and sell pamphlets and newspapers.

In order to provide these services to the general populace, they stand in little kiosks around the city - generally near Tube stations - and announce themselves by shouting: "Stanner! Stanner!"

Escalating Difficulties

2004-07-12T13:08:00.000+01:00

Many Londoners and visitors to London often express their horror and disbelief that it can take London Underground more than three years to repair an escalator and that escalators are so often out of order at stations such as Notting Hill Gate, Brixton and Bank-Monument.

In fact, the reasons for these long interruptions are believed to be similar to the reason unused Tube stations are mothballed - so that the government can use them secretly.

For instance, the third escalator at Brixton has been out of commission for years simply to provide a discreet ministerial “fast lane” for government officials visiting the Fridge nightclub. And the semi-permanent malfunctions of the escalators at Bank-Monument are actually part of a clandestine government initiative to keep the Square Mile’s office workers in peak physical condition in the event of a national emergency.

The Sad Tale of the Moquette

2004-07-07T19:54:00.000+01:00

"Moquette" is the robust, deep-pile material used to cover the seats on the London Underground and on London buses.

For many years these seats were simple wooden benches. When the decision was made to upgrade to padded seats, the Royal Geographical Society despatched explorers to points throughout the British Empire to find a material tough enough to withstand the rears of thousands of Londoners.

The breakthrough was made by Sir Magnus Larchwood in south-west Africa. In 1923 he discovered a species called the moquette (a relation of the meerkat) that had checked fur in a variety of striking colours, notably orange, purple, blue and brown. A trade in the moquette was set up and Tubes were furbished with their hides.

Sadly, such was the demand for moquette skins that the native population quickly dwindled. The ranks of this noble beast were further eroded after the second world war when they fell prey to Wrigley's Disease, a malady spread by discarded chewing gum. The last moquette died in captivity at the Royal College of Fashion in 1974 during a desperate attempt to equip the new Jubilee Line.

Open Post: Gorblimey Trousers

2004-07-03T18:04:00.000+01:00

This isn't London is not merely intended to be the ultimate reference guide; the author also has frankly misguided ambitions about creating a community of those dedicated to unearthing untrue, misleading and plainly wrong trivia about this great city.

With this in mind, I present the first "Open Post". I'll run one of these when an item of Arcana Londiniumensis exhausts even my considerable scholarly powers.

Let's set off with this: can anyone tell me the origin of "Gorblimey Trousers", as mentioned in the stirring Cockney Ballad My Old Man's a Dustman? Old Moore once mentioned that they were imbued with mystical powers. Any thoughts? Comment below.

The Origins of the A To Z

2004-07-03T17:13:00.000+01:00

London's famous A To Z street guide was first serialised in Blackwoods magazine in the 1930s. Its evocative renderings of the London of the time were an instant hit, but many found the plot lacking and characterisation almost non-existent.

In the story, the heroic Kensal Rise travels from left to right in straight lines across London attempting to visit every street, an epic quest that takes him from Neasden to Grove Park. It was often compared to James Joyce's Ulysses, mostly in the sense of "nothing at all like Ulysses".

It was adapted for radio in 1936 but did not travel well, and was taken off the air after Page 62 (Earl's Court, Fulham and Parson's Green).

In 1946 it was discovered that German strategist had been using the map that accompanied the full text as a street guide to London while planning the invasion of Britain. The publishers thought they might be onto a winner and, taking a risk, released the map separately. It was an instant hit and still sells strongly today.

For the author of this site, however, nothing quite beats the original eight volumes of leatherbound fiction. Although they can be a little unwieldy on the Tube, they do provide something to read during delays and also, crucially, do not include the Elephant and Castle shopping centre (TiL passim).

Inhuman Traffic

2004-07-02T19:04:00.000+01:00

Traffic has been an abiding bugbear of Londoners since Roman times. As Fetlock's London Chronyk pointed out in 1475:

"The Streetes doe so heave Wyth carts and theyr beastes of Laboyr that this Chronykler wasse layte for his worke agayne and didde gette a Ryght ticking-off fromme the Manyger of his Line; and suche is the heaving of the Beastes that their Dirt and Manyure does mayke manye a Pedestryan heave also."

In recent times, though, much of the motorists' ire has been directed at Traffic Wardens, who issue fines to illegally parked motorists. With these custodians of the yellow line again heavily in the news, we revisit the three most extreme cases of wardens overstepping the mark:

1. Parking services had to be suspended for three weeks in Islington in 1994 after it emerged that wardens were ticketing items of street furniture including bollards, benches and street lamps. While the council approved of the wardens' zeal and creativity, it found it self-defeating to end up paying the fines itself.

2. A 1990 plan to force drivers in the borough of Wandsworth to carry a warden in the front passenger seat of their cars at all times, believed to be the "final solution" to traffic violations, was abandoned after an "extremely successful" pilot because it cost too much.

3. Haringey council's innovative and more cost-effective policy of summarily executing errant motorists was scrapped in 1999 after three years of operation because of the escalating problem of abandoned vehicles and health and safety concerns.

The District Line Explained

2004-06-27T16:39:00.000+01:00

Many Londoners often ask themselves: Why is the District Line called the District Line? London is not divided into districts, but into parishes and Boroughs. Other than the line, nothing in London is called a District.

This line of thinking is based on a misconception. The line's name stems not from district meaning "area", but from an Italian banking family called the di'Stricti. The di'Stricti came to London in 1841 and in the 1860s provided much of the funding for the early Distict line, which was promptly name in honour of them - once that name had been anglicised.

Poetry on the Underground #2

2004-06-25T00:49:00.000+01:00

Rodents in Peace

2004-06-23T15:49:00.000+01:00

Green Park was once home to the world’s only rodent cemetry, where gerbils owned by the younger members of the Royal Family are interred. Among the more famous names buried there is Mr Carrots, one of George III’s earliest pets, who once amazed courtiers by changing his own bedding.

The cemetry was closed to the public in 1968, when it was overrun by rats.

Poetry on the Underground

2004-06-22T17:37:00.000+01:00

The Running of the Hills

2004-06-18T18:46:00.000+01:00

15th-century London was filled with unusual diversions ranging from stoat kickboxing to locking 12 of the most stupid people who could be found in a house together for 12 weeks and then watching them through the windows. But one of the strangest pastimes was "the running of the hills".

This odd sport was introduced to the city by European merchants. It involved gathering a crowd of people at the bottom of one of London's many hills - Primrose Hill was said to be popular - and then running up it in as tight a formation as possible. The first contestants to reach the top then had to immediately come to a dead halt, hoping that those behind them would run into their backs and fall over. The person who knocked over as many people as possible won a yard of ale. Injuries scored extra points.

Sadly, this charming part of our heritage lost popularity and faded into its history, but is still practised on the continent. To this day, European visitors to the capital will attempt re-enactments by stopping dead still at the top of Tube escalators and pretending to read maps.

Tufnell Park: The Truth

2004-06-08T16:04:00.000+01:00

This Isn't Londoner Alex Wiltshire has contributed this fascinating fact. It has been mildly edited.

Tufnell Park was controversially renamed after the Spinal Tap character Nigel Tufnell by the then Labour MP for the area, Bob Tree, in 1987. It was his reaction against its original name - Tebbit's Village. you can still see the remnants of scratched graffiti of phalluses on bikes on the walls of the tube station, references to Norman Tebbit's infamous quote on unemployment. Ironically, though Norman Tebbit had no relation to the original name, the Tebbit of Tebbit's Village, who was the major landowner and developer of the area in the mid-1800s, invented the inner tube for the penny farthing.

All Trains Terminate at Finsbury Park

2004-06-07T15:05:00.000+01:00

When it was first opened in December 1906, the Piccadilly Line only had one stop - at Finsbury Park. It was an immediate financial failure, and almost went out of business altogether. However, investors poured in more cash and an extension to Barons Court was completed by 1909.

Still, it was used by almost no one, so in 1912 the decision was taken to update the timetable to include stations other than Finsbury Park.

Even then, it lost money heavily until it was decided to build stations along the stretch between Finsbury Park and Baron's Court, bring the total number of stops from two to fifteen. While some investors claimed this would decrease train speed, but common sense prevailed and the work was completed by 1915.

The Emetic Cults of Victorian London

2004-06-05T14:16:00.000+01:00

75 Beak Street, Soho, is now a slightly mad Bistro, but until 1861 it was the home of Doctor Bleasdale's Temperance Vomitorium, the last of the great Emetic Cults. It is believed that these mysterious establishments sprang from the coffee-house culture of the 18th century, specifically after an ill-fated experiment with pig's milk at an establishment in Cheapside had unexpectedly explosive and colourful side-effects.

By Victoria's reign, Emetic Cults had risen in tandem with the Temperance movement, in that they encouraged abstinence by permitting patrons to drink until the inevitable occurred. Dickens mentions them in Dombey and Son:

The next morning, refreshed after a visit to Bleasdale's purging-house the previous evening, Dombey again returned his attention to the matter of Paul and Florence ...

Sadly, by 1855 these unusual establishments had fallen from favour and by 1860 only Bleasdale's remained. On the centenary of its closure in 1963, Westminster council attempted to re-establish it, only to fail when three aldermen were hospitalised.

The Elephant's Greek Heritage

2004-06-05T13:58:00.000+01:00

It's a common misconception that the name Elephant & Castle is a corruption of "Infanta de Castilla". This isn't true: it actually stems from the words "Bellephron and castor oil". In Greek mythology, the hero Bellephron trained the winged horse Pegasus by walking it around the roundabout now taken up by the lumpen Faraday memorial.

Where the castor oil bit comes from is uncertain. Possibly one of them had an upset stomach at the time.

The Power of Art

2004-06-04T03:34:00.000+01:00

While the conversion of the Bankside power station into the Tate Modern was being planned, another, far more secret, set of negotiations was taking place on the other side of the Thames.

This was because in 1998 it was proposed by a Belgian consortium that the Tate Britain (then the Tate Gallery) be converted into a gas-fired power station. Although Westminster council liked the idea, it ultimately foundered on a dispute over employee parking.

New Model Railway

2004-06-03T18:41:00.000+01:00

An integral part of the 1980s plan to regenerate the Docklands east of London was the construction of an elevated light railway network covering the area. In 1986 government ministers issued tenders to establish who should be given the job of building this railway, and imagine their surprise when the winning bid came from Hornby!

Construction went ahead, and to this day the Docklands Light Railway remains the largest model railway system in the world, controlled from a state-of-the-art network centre at Poplar.

Saint Ockwell

2004-06-03T18:16:00.000+01:00

Netto Ockwell was born in a disease-ridden swamp south of the Thames in 863 (map). He rose to prominence in 885 after his shirt fell apart during a drinking competition and he preached a fiery sermon on the spot about the importance of low-cost clothes.

Despite having no religious training from the church, or indeed any training at all, he rapidly acquired a following thanks to his vehement and often expletive-laden sermons in the area - mostly on no particular subject other than the audience being "fuckers", which was believed to be an imprecation against the sin of fornication - and his habit of falling into a deep meditative trance at about 8pm every evening until noon the next day. Thanks to his diminutive stature, he acquired the nickname "Little Ockwell" ("Lidl Ockwell" in old English).

Reports of his demise vary. Some of his more ardent supporters claim he was burned at the stake by the church for heresy. Others claim he set himself on fire demonstrating one of the cheap lighters he was attempting to sell. All accounts agree, however, that he miraculously exploded and was consumed by flames within seconds - possibly a byproduct of the enormous quantity of lamp oil he drank.

Although he was never officially beatified by the Vatican, the area became known as "Saint Ockwell's". This became "St. Ockwell" in 1705, and by 1840 was commonly abbreviated to "Stockwell", the name it bears today.

Tunnel Vision

2004-06-03T17:58:00.000+01:00

The pedestrian subway systems under Marble Arch, the north side of Blackfriars Bridge and the southern end of Tottenham Court road were designed and built by the Ministry of Works in the Spring of 1940. Their intention was to confuse and demoralise as much of an invading enemy army as they could - it was estimated that as many as five Wehrmacht divisions could be tied down and destroyed by attrition in each system by a force as small as eight Evening Standard vendors.

Welcome to This Isn't London

2004-06-03T17:25:00.000+01:00

This site was created on 3 June 2004 as the web's first, best and only* source of completely untrue - indeed, made-up and unfactual - facts and information about London, The World's Greatest City*. Its creator originally planned an Encyclopedia Errata of untrue facts about things in general, to counter the rising tide of accuracy and diligence on the internet*, only to realise upon being permitted access to the British Library's fabled Mythomaniacal Archive* that the vast bulk of interesting material therein was about London*, his home city.

This database will be updated hourly* and by September 2004 will contain more than 600,000 entries*.

*Might not be true.