For those new to CabbieBlog or readers who are slightly forgetful, on Saturdays I’m republishing posts, many going back over a decade. Some will still be very relevant while others have become dated over time. Just think of this post as your weekend paper supplement.

Catford’s Camelot (25.01.11)

The Excalibur Estate is threatened with demolition, but unlike an Arthurian legend there are no Knights of the Round Table galloping to the fair maiden’s rescue.

In a part of Catford that few cabbies would know, or travel to, against the odds, there is the last surviving estate in London of post-war prefabricated houses (“prefabs”), some 187 two-bed roomed homes with St. Mark’s a prefabricated church which were built for bombed out Londoners and given road names such as Pelinore or Mordred by someone in the planning department all those years ago with a liking for Arthurian tales.

After the Second World War 150,000 prefabs were built across Britain. Created to accommodate homeless families with young children, these “palaces for the people” as they were called at the time were synonymous not only of comfort and luxury but also a feeling not lost on the demobbed armed forces of freedom. The Excalibur Estate in Catford South East London is still one of Britain’s largest estates of prefabs.

Erected in 1946-47 by German and Italian prisoners of war, who were in no hurry to return to war ravished Europe, these detached houses with their own gardens, bathroom and the luxury of a separate indoor toilet were the solution to the chronic housing stock shortage after the end of the Second World War.

Plonked on top of pre-plumbed concrete slabs, these homes could be built in a day, and were only expected to last between 10 and 15 years, by which time the Brutalist tower block of the 60s would accommodate these once homeless families.

By the Seventies the Brave New World of modernist architecture was starting to crumble, along with some of the buildings. Many people found that they hated living in high-rise blocks, no matter how much the council and social planners told them how lucky they were.

Tower blocks and even whole estates were demolished while the remaining prefabs, and the residents, with their little gardens stayed put. They remained as an uncomfortable reminder to planners that modernisers don’t always have the answers and home need more than boxes stacked one upon another, with the only way to see the sky is to walk to the municipal park.

With 12 acres of valuable land the property developers are showing an unhealthy interest in the Excalibur Estate and are proposing to squeeze 400 new homes onto the plot.

After years of neglect by Lewisham Borough Council who own all but 29 of them these houses are deemed unfit for human habitation and in the lingo that only local authorities can dream up “these houses are subject to a Sustainable Community Strategy”, demolition to you and me.

Only six have been granted protection from destruction, but these survivors should prove to be a nice little earner for their owners, filmmakers love the, Only Fools and Horse and BBC’s How We Built Britain have featured them.

The Twentieth Century Society (where were they when Centre Point’s fountains were removed?) wants to preserve as much as possible for students to study the design and the estate’s demography, while the local group just want to live there in peace.

The Excalibur Estate’s prefabs might not be the prettiest of dwellings, nor situated among leafy north London’s liberal elite in Barnsbury, but they are a remaining example of how we built homes “Fit for Heroes”.

For those new to CabbieBlog or readers who are slightly forgetful, on Saturdays I’m republishing posts, many going back over a decade. Some will still be very relevant while others have become dated over time. Just think of this post as your weekend paper supplement.

To God and the Bridge (21.01.11)

On the occasional times that I’m persuaded to go Sarf of The River my first thought has to be; which bridge should I use? Knowledge students are told that because the Thames meanders on its journey through the city, the nearest bridge lies on the shortest route, and without giving it a second thought on who maintains that crossing we drivers just – well drive across it.

So when reading David Long’s fascinating book Tunnels, Towers & Temples: London’s 100 Strangest Places, I was intrigued to find that five of London’s bridges are administered and financed from a building on the South Bank appropriately named Bridge House.

The first major crossing, London Bridge, was started in 1176, to replace the existing rickety wooden bridge nearby. It was funded from donations “to God and the Bridge” as the church at the time encouraged cross river traffic, indeed the builders one Peter de Colechurch was a priest and head of the Fraternity of the Brethren on London Bridge. One must question the churches’ motive as land on the South Bank was owned by the Bishop of Winchester, who later would benefit from revenues derived from prostitutes who were known as Winchester Geese.

When London Bridge was completed some 33 years later the rental income generated from the shops and houses above its 19 stone arches, along with tolls and fines on making the crossing, and in addition to the numerous bequests, amounted to a sizeable sum.

Its assets enabled the purchase of an area of land around Borough High Street and parts of the riverbank that became known as the Bridge House Estate. The income from these assets enabled the construction of Blackfriars Bridge in 1869, Tower Bridge in 1881 and the purchase of Southwark Bridge. The Trust has now assumed control of the Millennium Bridge, but only after the famous wobble was rectified. The Trust has financed two replacements for London Bridge (1831 and 1972) and two replacements for Southwark Bridge (1819 and 1921).

With an estimated £500 million in its coffers, with a least £35 million added each year, the question needs to be asked; why has Boris Johnson cancelled the proposed East London Crossing?

The construction of a bridge between Beckton and Thamesmead would ease the damaging traffic on Tower Bridge and reduce traffic jams in South East London. And how can it be that in a city the size of London, with its growing East and South East population we have only four crossings?

Downriver from Tower Bridge? Rotherhithe was built for horse and carts, in fact its double bend was designed to prevent horses seeing the light at the end of the tunnel and bolting for it. Blackwall Tunnel needs years of overnight maintenance and Woolwich Free Ferry which opened in 1889 hardly eases traffic congestion at all. The next river crossing is some 30 miles to the east at Dartford River Crossing.

The construction of a new toll bridge might help revive the tradition of a donation last made in 1675 of “To God and the Bridge”.

For those new to CabbieBlog or readers who are slightly forgetful, on Saturdays I’m republishing posts, many going back over a decade. Some will still be very relevant while others have become dated over time. Just think of this post as your weekend paper supplement.

I’m incandescent with rage (18.01.11)

When the motor car was originally invented it was little more than its predecessor, the horse drawn carriage. The light for this new contraption were acetylene lamps, with just enough light to indicate its presence , travelling at walking pace, slower than most vehicle on the road, this weak light was all that was necessary. The earliest headlamps were fuelled by acetylene or oil and were introduced in the late 1880s, among the earliest inventions were the “Prest-O-Lite” acetylene lamps that were popular because the flame was resistant to wind and rain. The first electric headlamps were introduced in 1898 on the Columbia Electric Car from the Electric Vehicle Company of Hartford, Connecticut, but the manufacturers regarded them as superfluous so made them optional extras. Two factors limited the widespread use of electric headlamps: the short life of filaments in the harsh automotive environment, and the difficulty of producing dynamos small enough, yet powerful enough to produce sufficient current.

As cars developed into a shape we would recognise today, and with speeds attaining the dizzy heights of 50mph Thomas Edison’s incandescent light bulbs were necessary for drivers to see and be seen. This lasted until the advent of Ward War II made it necessary for vehicles to take to the road with the barest minimum of illumination but as there were hardly any other vehicles around; the biggest danger was falling down a bomb crater.

From the 1950’s car development has moved on apace, and with it so have vehicles’ headlights. First fog lights were added which, if the manufacturer’s claims were to be believed, would cut a swath through fog with their ethereal yellow beam. A further development was for moving away from the parabolic mirror to a more efficient reflecting shape giving a better and more focussed beam.

For the manufacturers of the prestigious Marques, the humble beam of Edison’s humble bulb was not sufficiently impressive for their discerning (or if you prefer – exhibitionist) customers, and so a brighter light had to be found. As if with perfect timing the HID (high-intensity discharge) Xenon/Bi-Xenon car headlights dropped into their laps at just the time the world was agonizing over global warming. What luck! A high intensity light that shows off the owner’s wealth and his green credentials at the same time. These headlights not only save on the watts, but also light up the streets way better for the driver, but not it has to be said for anyone approaching the vehicle.

Now doctors are becoming aware that the bright and extra headlights are causing stress and many other road users would like to see some action taken to reduce this unnecessary glare. It has been suggested that being confronted with a bright distracting light triggers a fight or flight response, with the result that high blood pressure, stress and blood sugars increase, not to mention the added risk of eye disease.

Unnecessary distracting and blinding lights are a hazard and that you will actually be doing the manufactures a favour by nipping this in the bud soon, as they could be liable for the damage that is resulting from this, to take a blind eye (no pun intended) to this is not only negligent but criminal. The eye is the most sensitive of all our senses; it is easily damaged as well as the most easily distracted. All this extra lighting is causing accidents, not preventing them, many people seem to agree about this issue and I have yet to speak to a single person who was in favour of these lights, although no discussion has yet taken place with a 4×4 driver.

The brightness is made worst as these high intensity lights are fitted on high vehicles whose headlight are at the same height as other driver’s eyes. In addition we now we have a situation that every wannabe boy racer’s car has been installed with these HID lights as well, modifying their current headlights, and driving with HID fog lights to supplement their headlights. All to attain that oh so cool blueish/whitish glow, or to tell their fellow drivers that they’re blind.

The only proper and indeed ethical course of action is to regulate now.

For those new to CabbieBlog or readers who are slightly forgetful, on Saturdays I’m republishing posts, many going back over a decade. Some will still be very relevant while others have become dated over time. Just think of this post as your weekend paper supplement.

Dear Diary . . . (11.01.11)

Many of you whose New Year’s Resolution was to keep a diary will by now have given up on this daily habit of record keeping.

Most diarists write for themselves of course, but a small number write mindful that others might read their thoughts. Some write just recording gossip, as in Kenneth William’s diaries, who would also record the time of his bowel movements for reasons best known only to him, while others record their thoughts, dreams and observations of what life was like to live at one particular point of time.

Historians depend on diaries to capture the essence of what it was to live at the point of recording that information, for example Pliny the Younger’s account of Mount Vesuvius erupting in 79AD has been invaluable to both historians and volcanologists.

In September 1939 Nella Last a middle-aged housewife living in Barrow-in-Furness began keeping a diary for mass observation, a social research organisation which began in 1937 which encouraged the recording of what they called “The Voice of the People”. So engaging was Nella’s record of her life during the war years and post-war years it subsequently became a best seller and was later brought to the attention of later generations when it became a television drama starring Victoria Wood.

While my own record is as mundane as “walked the dog, light rain, not much work today in London”, Nella’s gave us an insight for what life was like for an ordinary housewife to live through the war years. In April 1940 after listening to reports on the radio of a sea battle the simple act of drinking a glass of water conjured up a terrifying vision:

. . . I got a drink of water and tilted the glass too much, the feeling of slight choking gripped me and sent my mind over green cold water where men might be drowning as I sat so safe and warm . . .

Good diarists make the ordinary, extraordinary and probably the greatest exponent of this daily account recorded life in London during the tumultuous times of mid-17th century London. We know he started the diary on 1st January 1660 with the entry “Blessed be God, at the end of the last year I was in very good health, without any sense of my old pain, but upon taking of cold”, and for nearly 10 years Samuel Pepys kept an account of his life from the great events at the time to the mundane.

During the plague he notes:

And it is a wonder what will be the fashion, as to periwigs, for nobody will dare to buy any hair for fear of the infection – that it had been cut off the heads of people dead of the plague.

Pepys confesses in having two mistresses giving a rather graphic account of his dalliances and the guilt he felt at his betraying Elizabeth his French Huguenot wife. His account of being an employer in 17th century London in which he had no fear from being accused of sexual harassment by employees for the young women servants naturally attracted the master of the household and having a go at the household maids seems to have been an established practice.

His most famous entries were of The Great Fire of London, which started in a baker’s shop in Pudding Lane in the early hours of 2nd September, 1666, it burned down 80 per cent of London within the City walls and left 80,000 people homeless. But as fascinating as this account is of the drama that is unfolding before his eyes, it the small nuggets of personal information that helps us understand the Londoners who lived there at the time. Pepys’s records that night, by moonlight, he moved his money and valuables into the cellar and carried all his precious goods – his best wine and a good Parmesan cheese – into the garden and buried them.

So, if like Samuel Pepys your New Year’s Resolution was to keep a diary, keep recording, and if you should find among a deceased family members’ effects their cherished thoughts don’t throw them away, one day historians might want to know about life in 21st century London.

For those new to CabbieBlog or readers who are slightly forgetful, on Saturdays I’m republishing posts, many going back over a decade. Some will still be very relevant while others have become dated over time. Just think of this post as your weekend paper supplement.

Not before time (07.01.11)

While waiting to enter Trafalgar Square via Admiralty Gate it occurred to me that this public space has always been about time delays.

Now that north side has been pedestrianised the flow of vehicles approaching King Charles Statute has been restricted due to the re-phrasing of the traffic lights (Red: 1 minute, 3.1 seconds; Green 8.3 seconds if you’re interested) that allows only six vehicles at a time to enter the square. This triumph of traffic managements, which creates a line half way down The Mall, has the bonus that it gives more time to study this celebration of a national hero.

The area around Charing Cross had mostly been a maze of ramshackle dwellings, alleyways and shops when the Prince Regent engaged the landscape architect John Nash to design a square in the area to commemorate the Battle of Trafalgar. By the 1830s it had begun to take shape, with the new National Gallery built along the northern side of the quadrangle in the spot where the King’s Mews (stables for royal horses) had previously been located since the 13th century.

The original construction of Nelson’s Column was delayed by budgetary difficulties and rows over taste and artistic merit, the time taken to begin was seen as a national disgrace. Immediately after Nelson’s death at Trafalgar in 1805 there had been calls for a tribute to over sea victory over the French. Time taken for building work for Trafalgar Square has never been “of the essence” for it took nearly 40 years to raise enough money to begin construction, even then the Tsar of Russia had donated a quarter of the monies raised while a certain Mrs. Beeby is recorded to have given 2s 6d.
The eventual cost of the memorial was £47,000 (the equivalent of £4 million today), indeed that seems relatively good value compared with some modern public monuments: the steel arcelorMittal orbit observation tower planned for the 2012 Olympic site will cost around £20 million).

At 145ft tall it is still the world’s tallest Corinthian column but not tall enough for William Railton who won £200 for his design, its full designed height was deemed to be dangerously high, and 30ft was lobbed off its proposed height. Other submissions included a gigantic pyramid, an octagonal Gothic cenotaph, mermaids playing water polo and an immense globe.

The sculptor for the statute was Edmund Baily who was forced to modify his plans when no shipper could be found to transport the massive piece of stone required, in the event the stone broke in two solving the problem at what height Nelson should finally be. While Landseer’s bronze lions, modelled from a dead big cat from London Zoo (his neighbours complained at the time of the smell from the decaying animal) were not added until 1863.

In 1888 poor old Nelson was hit by lighting and his remaining left arm broken, a temporary repair was effected using metal braces, but in true Trafalgar Square tradition it was not until 2006 that the repair was carried out properly. Fortunately, the monument being made of granite and sandstone is immune to acid rain and the 2006 inspection found the monument to be in a well preserved condition for anything made from marble or limestone would have been in a dreadful shape by now as evidenced by King Charles’ plinth by Admiralty Arch, the one opposite the traffic lights that give me so much time.