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.

Weather we care (15.01.2010)

They must have done something at the recent Copenhagen Conference to prevent global warming for since then it hasn’t stopped snowing and with London temperatures dropping to levels not seen for over 20 years you have to feel sorry for those sleeping rough on the streets of London.

It was when I started the Knowledge of London that first I noticed, with shock, the number of people sleeping rough, it was, I suppose when trying to be more observant to increase my knowledge that I then noticed just how many people were to be found in shop doorways at night.

London has always had a homelessness problem, William the Conqueror forbade anyone to leave the land where they worked, if by so doing they effectively made themselves homeless, and as far back as the 7th Century, laws were passed laws to punish vagrants. In the 13th Century Edward I (he of Braveheart fame) ordered weekly searches to round up vagrants.

The Unilever building at the north end of Blackfriars Bridge stands on the site of Bridewell Palace. First built by Henry VIII and later leased to the French Ambassador at which time the interior was used by Holbein for his painting The Ambassadors. By the time Edward VI took possession the palace was in a state of disrepair and he gave it to the City for the reception of vagrants and homeless children. Later becoming a prison, the name Bridewell became synonymous with an institution providing unsanitary conditions and cruelty for the poor and homeless, but it was here in the 16th Century that the State first tried to house vagrants rather than punish them. It began introducing Bridewells, places meant to take vagrants in and train them for a profession, and in 1788 prisoners were given straw for their beds (other prisons had neither beds nor straw) but in reality Bridewells were dirty and brutal places.

By the 18th Century workhouses had replaced the Bridewells, but these were intended to discourage over-reliance on state help. At best they were spartan places with meagre food and sparse furnishings – at worst they were unsanitary and uncaring. By 1863 the building which started Bridewell prison was demolished, after transferring prisoners to Holloway, and now only the gateway built in 1802 remains (pictured), it can be seen at No. 14 New Bridge Street.

The numbers of vagrants has risen and fallen, and precise figures are hard to come by the 1930s eighty were found sleeping rough during a street count in London, but after the Second World War in 1949 a low of only six people were found sleeping rough in London.

Street counts provide a useful snapshot of the number of people sleeping rough on a single night but are best regarded as indicators of trends, rather than exact numbers of men and women who sleep rough. The annual estimate of the numbers sleeping out in England on any single night is published in September each year. The 2007 annual estimate found there were 248 people sleeping rough in London on a single night, which equates to around 3,000 people sleeping rough in London each year, while the 2008 figure was no better at 4,077.

This year homelessness has jumped by 15 per cent with Eastern Europeans, who have lost jobs and have fewer means of social support, now constitute nearly one in seven of those living without permanent shelter. The annual returns, compiled by the charity Broadway on behalf of the Government, show that 4,672 rough sleepers were counted in the capital and only around 60 per cent were UK nationals.

The Government’s target of ending rough sleeping in the capital by 2012 is unlikely to be achieved unless more is done to break the link between mental health problems and homelessness.

I now return, like any good Englishman, to talk about the weather. Why is it that every year at Christmas we open, to great publicity on television, makeshift shelters for the homeless only to close them after the holiday at a time when London’s temperature starts to fall? Even in 1788 vagrants were given straw to sleep upon?

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 in my name (12.01.2010)

We all like to complain and if really aggrieved, protest to make our point, in fact sometimes it seems that CabbieBlog’s raison d’etre is to whinge on all things in London.

But for having protesters with the greatest tenacity, London would appear to lead the way, we have of course our regular Saturday weekend protesters, who spend their week in comfortable City jobs, or living off the State and who like to spend their weekends walking around London with a banner.

Taking those aside, an entrepreneurial spirit has at times been commendable with some individuals, for example Stanley Green who upon retirement from the civil service decided against taking up golf, but chose to spend 30 years warning of the dangers of protein. “Protein makes passion” his printed leaflets exclaimed, so reduce your consumption of fish, bird, meat, cheese, egg, peas, beans, nuts and well err . . . sitting, and the world will be a happier place.

Or take the charming chap with a loud megaphone who would extol the benefits of Christianity at Oxford Circus greatly improving the ambience of the area until he had an anti social behaviour order served , forcing him to relocate to Piccadilly Circus. Then every evening illuminated by the neon signs revellers could hear him chastising them, until that is, a second ASBO was served preventing him from loudly proclaiming his faith.

A third lone individual can still be found, after over 15 years outside White’s Club in St. James’ Street resplendent dressed in a gold jacket and gold shoes. He divides his time between a certain Lord of the Realm’s club, who he claims has ruined his business and Buckingham Palace around the corner. He blames Her Majesty for not supporting his one man crusade, but boasts proudly that once he saw the Queen watching him from behind her nets.

For a far more spiritual demo, go to Portland Place, there opposite the Chinese Embassy since June 2002, protesting against an oppressive regime, sympathisers of Falun Gong practise Tai Chi, 24 hours a day, commendable but utterly fruitless, since China hardly feels threatened by the slow movements of the protesters. But of course if you want free Tai Chi lessons CabbieBlog recommends the pavement outside RIBA.

But my all time favourite for endurance and cocking a snoop at authority has to be Brian Haw, who on 2 June 2001 decided to begin camping in Parliament Square in a one-man political protest against war and foreign policy. Unfortunately for Brian the second Iraq war overtook events making him a cause célèbre and preventing him from ever giving up his one man protest against the forces of the State. Westminster City Council then failed prosecute Brian for causing an obstruction on the pavement, and his continuous use of a megaphone have led to objections by Members of Parliament. Then in a glorious twist, a House of Commons Procedure Committee recommended that the law be changed to prohibit his protest as his camp could provide an opportunity for terrorists to disguise explosive devices. The Government then passed a provision to the Serious Organised Crime and Police Act banning all unlicensed protests, permanent or otherwise, however, because Brian’s protest was on-going and residing on Parliament Square prior to the enactment of the Act, it was unclear whether the Act applied to him. He now is in the position that he simply cannot give up his camp site as only he is allowed to protest in Britain any more without a licence, it would seem we are now a long way away from the days of Stanley Green and his protein protest.

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.

In Shackleton’s Footsteps (08.01.2010)

When I start my cab for a day’s work the last thing on my mind is that I’m an intrepid traveller, but surely I must be, for last year when London was covered with 2 inches of snow the Metropolitan Police announced that the roads were” too dangerous” for their patrol cars to venture out. Upon hearing this snippet of news I just shrugged my shoulders, carried on working and entered a moan in my Diary.

Now 4 weeks later London’s roads are on the cusp of total chaos, all for the want of some salt. According to a recent newspaper article, American weathermen predicted cold of a variety not seen in over 25 years in England, while our own Met Office, after telling us that were to experience a barbecue summer, then told us to brace ourselves for a warmer than average winter in Britain.

So of course London’s councils, ever wishing to reduce spending have run down their supplies of salt, and Boris when questioned about the possibility of London’s roads being impassable, after carefully removing his bicycle clips, told us that London’s councils can’t gear up for the occasional severe winter with all the expense that they would incur for the occasional freak weather.

But hold on just a minute, didn’t the boys from the Met Office predict that we all would experience climate change in our lifetimes, and probably catastrophe would ensue within ten years if we didn’t stop driving our cars and recycle our baked bean cans?

I hate to admit it but I’m old enough to remember the winter of 1962-3, so please try at least to look like you are interested while I relate this anecdote to you of that winter.
Snow fell in London on Boxing Day, by the 29th and 30th December a blizzard across south-west England and Wales left drifts 20 feet deep which blocked roads and rail routes, left villages cut off and brought down power lines and thanks to further falls and almost continual near-freezing temperatures, snow was still deep on the ground across much of the country three months later.

In the intervals when snow was not falling, the country simply appeared to freeze solid with January daytime temperatures barely creeping above freezing, and night frosts producing a temperature of -16 °C in places. In January the sea froze out to half a mile from the shore at Herne Bay, the Thames froze right across in places, and ice floes appeared on the river at Tower Bridge. February was marked by more snow arriving on south-easterly winds during the first week, with a 36-hour blizzard hitting western parts of the country, drifts 20 feet deep formed in gale-force winds and many rural communities found themselves cut off for the tenth time since Christmas.

Eventually a gradual thaw then set in, and the morning of 6th March 1963 was the first day in the year that the entire country was frost free, and the temperature soared to 17 °C in London helping us to recover from a winter that was probably the coldest since 1795.
So don’t tell me about climate change and that we cannot cope when we get 6 inches of snow in London during January.

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.

Make do and mend (05.01.2010)

In a world obsessed with the throwaway culture, London has a few examples of recycling parts of its demolished iconic buildings, not to save them for posterity, you understand, but to increase the developers’ profits.

An Inspired Idea

If you are going to demolish a Wren church you don’t wish to be perceived as a vandal, Oh No.! So how can one give Londoners a symbol of your altruism? Why you preserve the spire of course, but where to re-erect such an historic structure, representing Resurgam as Wren coined it, describing restoring London to its former glory after the Great Fire. And what better location can there be for the spire than a 1960’s housing estate in South-East London? Well that’s the fate of St. Antholin Church, first its spire was sold for £5, a bargain considering its Wren’s only stone spire and octagonal to boot, then for good measure the church was demolished 46 years later.

London Bridge in Hackney?

We have all enjoyed the anecdotal story of selling London Bridge for $2.5 million to the Americans so they could re-erect it at Lake Havasu City, Arizona, when they were under the impression it was Tower Bridge they were purchasing in order to plonk it in the middle of a desert. But what happened to London Bridge’s predecessor? Some of the stonework was incorporated in Adelaide House situated on the north side of the existing bridge, 49 Heathfield Road SW18 is built of the stuff, two stone alcoves grace Victoria Park in Hackney, while a third alcove is to be found in the courtyard of Guys Hospital.

Exporting Romford

When the old Mawney Arms public house was transformed from a traditional East London boozer into a Gastropub, the old interiors didn’t end up in a skip. Complete with the original pub sign it ended its travels in Thailand at a place called Koh Samui. So if you are passing while on holiday and fancy a curry and a pint, it’s available on Thursday during the darts contest.

Gherked off

The grade II listed Baltic Exchange when damaged by an IRA bomb was dismantled piece by peace at a cost of £4milllion. In its place proudly stands the Erotic Gherkin (sorry the Swiss Re: Tower), a testament to modernity. In June 2006 an Estonian businessman while trawling the web for reclaimed flooring came across an advert for the Baltic Exchange being stored in a barn in Kent. Buying it for £800,000 he has shipped it in 49 containers to Central Tallinn, Estonia. All he has to do now is find what part goes where in his jigsaw.

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.

New Year’s Resolutions (01.01.10)

A Happy New Year to anybody who stumbles across this blog, whether by accident or design.

In keeping with the tradition of making a New Year resolution only to break it within one week, I submit for your consideration a selection, which might if adopted, make travelling in London less odious. With more than a glancing nod at an excellent post by my erstwhile colleague The Cabbies Capital, I give you CabbieBlog’s New Year Resolutions:

THE GOOD: Cab drivers are in the main professional, courteous and, well nearly always right. Anyone who drives in London has had a cab stop for no apparent reason in front of him, and if we protest, the cabbie looks done from his eyrie at you in a smug and self righteous manner. Equally cabs are prone to make unexpected u-turns holding up the traffic while the driver completes his manoeuvre sometime without a word of thanks to anyone inconvenienced.

Most cab drivers try to be considerate, it makes no sense for us to damage our vehicles, by careless driving, and it’s our business for God’s sake. So my New Year Resolution will be to thank you profusely for letting me stop, start, pull away, reverse or u-turn near you.

THE BAD: 4×4 drivers. Never I repeat, never give the drivers of these contraptions any consideration. They now have halogen light to mesmerise you in their presence, just like a cobra with its prey. They approach you and expect you to wait for their next move; they now even have LED running lights and fog lights to warn the rest of us to get out of their way. If you only keep one resolution this year make it this one.

This is for all of you. Give way means pausing at the line in the road, not with your nose sticking out, its bloody frightening on a bike having a car block your passage (it doesn’t do much for that part of your anatomy either). And that line at traffic lights indicates where you stop BEHIND, not the green coloured tarmac section for bikes.

THE SAD: Pedestrians. Why of why do you migrate like lemmings near Oxford Street oblivious to the traffic and deep in conversation on your mobile phones. Why stand near a pedestrian crossing often on the zigzags blinking and wondering why the cars don’t stop for you. When you do have the inspired logic to use a pedestrian crossing, wait for the approaching vehicles to stop, don’t walk straight off the pavement expecting that bus to have the stopping power of an F1 car. And why oh why do you have to stand by a pedestrian crossing deep in conversation when you have no intention to cross the road? So just use the grey matter between your ears for once, it might just save your life.

THE MAD: Pizza couriers. These motorised push bikes have the road holding ability of a blancmange. Don’t ride as if you have a death wish, if the pizza is 30 seconds late arriving, tough.

Cyclists. These are some of the most competent of road users, but please, please don’t jump red lights, that boy racer in his dad’s BMW M3 hasn’t seen you, all he is interested in seeing is the green light. And one last comment, pedestrians have right of way on pedestrian crossings, the clue is in the title. I know it’s hard to have to stop once in a while, but your foot will have to touch the tarmac once or twice during your journey home.

THE UGLY: As ugly as the back of a bus, is never more true than when one of these 18m monsters pulls out as you are making a feeble attempt to pass it. Just because the Highway Code says we have to give way to you, doesn’t give you the absolute right to move out into traffic at a whim, just use your indicators. And one final comment, when you are ahead of the timetable don’t drive at 8 mph.

That’s it then, I know most of this will be ignored, but you know keep just one of these resolutions this year and moving around London might become enjoyable. Just don’t hold your breath for it to happen.