Save The Children Fund Shop

Trafalgar Road SE10

Is it just me or is the STCF shop on Trafalgar Road fab?

It was always quite a good shop - my best buy ever was a GIGANTIC, brand-new Le Crueset casserole - big enough to feed half of Greenwich - but just recently since its refit, it's become BRILLIANT.

For starters, the people in there are great. They work long hours - often opening much later than other charity shops, and they really seem to make a big effort. True the stuff is not as cheap as some places but c'mon folks, this is for charity and I don't care too much. It's still ions cheaper than you'd pay for new stuff. They do different displays for seasonal occasions, just like 'real' shops and make a special effort at festival times.

There's a constant supply of goods - possibly because you can park in the road next door for unloading - important if you've got boxes of items and it's pretty good quality gear at that (I should know, half of it used to be mine...)

There is an excellent range of good clothes, usually colour-sorted rather than sized, but hey - half the fun is browsing. Just before Christmas I went in on a Friday morning desperately searching for something to make a pirate costume out of for a party the next evening, and as luck would have it, it turned out to be a one-stop-shop (albeit I spent the rest of the day and most of Saturday at the sewing machine.) I told the guys I was looking for stuff for a pirate party and they really got into the spirit of it, helping me to choose things.

The bric-a-brac is more of a lottery - but, depending on your tastes, there's often a little something that might appeal. They have a good selection of curtains at the moment, but they also seem to be going fast. They sold two different sets while I was in there the other day.

I'm pretty sure there's a book reviewer who lives nearby because there are often some really great 'review copies' of recent releases ,still with their press releases tucked inside, - again not rock-bottom cheap, but a good way of getting books and giving to charity at the same time. Most of them go back there anyway...

Support your local charity shop - you get good stuff at reasonable prices AND a charity gets helped. And don't forget to bring your (good) unwanted stuff back to them.

Rivington Grill

The Picturehouse, Greenwich High Road, SE10

Now here's a place whose opening was almost as anticipated in this household as the Picturehouse itself. It was an empty space for so long after the cinema opened that we began to worry that it would stay empty forever. Even when we heard the opening date, when we walked past two days before the grand event, it was STILL empty.

They did manage to open on time (albeit the first night was a bit chaotic - but then what's a first night without a spot of healthy chaos?) and I confess that this is one of my preferred restaurants in Greenwich.

It's the South-Eastern sister of Mark Hix's eaterie in - naturally - Rivington St, Shoreditch, and part of the swanky Caprice chain which most famously owns the Ivy. I slightly supsect that this is the poor relation of the chain - I can't quite explain why - I just don't get the feeling that it's actually visited very often by the owners. I wonder if this is the beginning of a chain of "Rivingtons" rather than a quirky one-off (or, to be more precise, a two-off.)

That's not to say it isn't a really nice local restaurant. It's bright and airy on a sunny Sunday morning, warm and cosy on a dark November's night, with lots of glass doors and dark wood, plain walls and the odd antique (there's a huge ex-railway-looking clock which sadly doesn't work) which gives it a nicely timeless feel (literally, in the case of the clock.)

Downstairs at the bar there is a snack menu chalked up on a blackboard - modern twists on traditional British fare - in fact there is an extremely strong British slant on the whole menu and the list of suppliers is a who's who of British Foodie Producers. The rest of the restaurant has an interesting menu which does feature the odd seasonal dish (a rhubarb creme brulee I once had was utterly divine and lingers in my memory as much as my waistline) but carries a basic repertoire which doesn't seem to have changed since the place opened.

Not that I'm complaining. Dishes such as Eggs Benedict, Suckling Pig, Lyme Bay Scallops and my personal favourite, Smoked Haddock with Poached Egg and Colcannon are nicely presented and the wine list has some interesting bottles. One of these days I'm going to get a group together for one of their 'banquets' where a whole suckling pig or seasonal game birds are presented for the entire table.

The Rivington has two problems, in my humble opinion. The first can be easily solved, the second I'll have to live with.

The first is its smoking policy. It doesn't have one. Despite having two very distinct areas which could be separated for smokers and non-smokers, anyone can smoke anywhere. Now I'm not a rabid anti-smoker, but I do object to trying to eat my food whilst surrounded on three sides by entire tables of people puffing away. They might be in between courses, but I'm not and they are less than two feet away from me. It's hardly a conducive way to enjoy Mark Hix's carefully-chosen menu. This would be more of a problem if it wasn't going to be solved in July, but this to me is an example of my feeling that this place plays second-fiddle to the Shoreditch branch - we've had TWO YEARS of this non-policy when it could so easily have been sorted out so that smokers and non-smokers could have both enjoyed a meal in harmony. Nobody's actually bothered to consider it.

The second is the prices. The food is good - and the sourcing excellent, but I can't quite feel that it warrants the money that you pay for it. It's just a teeny bit pricey for what you get. It tends to be a meal that we eat as an occasion in itself rather than as an accompaniment to the cinema - when you're paying prices like that you don't want to be rushed - you want to enjoy the place as a destination.

All things said, though, this is definitely one of the better restaurants in town. And it will be even better in July...

http://www.rivingtongrill.co.uk/

Belle

20, College Approach, SE10

A dinky little Ladies clothing shop that I DO go into, but always feel rather awkward inside.

Why? Well - it sells clothes for grown-ups for a start and while that is something to which I one day aspire, I never seem to quite get there. There is an unerring sense here of a certain class of style rather than vulgar fashion which somehow leaves me feeling a bit small and grubby, however dressed up I thought I was when I left the house.

Belle's adverts in local magazines always include photos of beautiful Pre-Raphaelite-esque waifs looking wistfully into middle-distance, wearing boiled wool cardis with interesting buttons and timeless floaty cotton frocks with quirky detail. The clothes are not so much fashionable as classic - and I guess they ought to be at the price.

The shop, in the pretty-classic-itself College Approach is painted white inside, with plain floorboards and walls with Louis-style armchairs, rococo mirrors, scarves and jewellery draped casually across them which look wonderful until I catch sight of myself in them, spoiling the illusion entirely. Curiously, when I came to write this I couldn't remember whether they actually have chandeliers and lacy drapery, but my impression is that they do. It's that sort of shop. And any regular readers will know I am a big fan of chandeliers. There is a single table laid out with carefully folded knits, and a few rails with delightful skirts and jackets, each given enough room to be admired. Upstairs there are more mirrors and more rails of discreetly cute designer wear, never actually full, of course, darling. This isn't a bargain basement, you know. Just a few pieces, each individually selected for cut and colour.

Nobody's ever been snooty with me here - I always receive a friendly greeting and discreet offers of help, but I still don't feel comfortable. I know it's in my head, but I never feel quite right until I stop cluttering up this serene, exquisite emporium.

Duke Humphrey's Tower Part I

It could be said that the fabulous Royal Observatory on top of the biggest hill in Greenwich Park is the most elegant botch-job in history. It's superbly classical feel and timeless frontage is a tribute to the ingenuity of Sir Christopher Wren who was given bugger-all to build it by King Charles II and was reduced to some, ahem, interesting sources for building materials (more about that another day.) Which is a great shame, as without the penny-pinching of the Merry Monarch, we might still at least have a few stones left of what was there beforehand, the notorious Duke Humphrey's Tower...

"Good" Duke Humphrey of Gloucester was the kid brother of Henry V and fought with him at Agincourt. It was an age of testosterone and derring-do and the dashing Duke slashed and parried with gusto until he was cut down. The only way he survived was by the king standing between his brother's splayed legs swashing, buckling and presumably making stirring speeches at the dastardly French until they'd all sunk in the mud.

On his return, Humph was a bit of a hero. Also known as "The Swan," (from part of his mother's coat of arms,) the power-hungry young swain fancied his chances abroad and married Jaqueline, Countess of Holland for her land. She was, unfortunately for Humphrey, already married, and her first husband unsurprisingly took exception to the match. Humphrey set off with an army to get his hands on as much loot as possible, but it all ended in tears when he was forced to turn back - leaving Jacqueline behind.

Humph doesn't seem to have been hugely upset by the loss of his wife and he soon gained a bit of a repuation as a ladies' man, though the scandals weren't always straightforward. He cut poor Jaqueline off without a sous and married his mistress, Eleanor Cobham, one of Jacqueline's ladies-in-waiting. It was said that she was a witch, and it does seem that The Black Arts might well have been a bit of a hobby for the happy couple. But true or not, by this point they both had a few enemies who were delighted at any excuse to stick the knife in.

She was hauled over the coals (probably literally) for practising witchcraft against the new King, potty Henry VI, forced to perform humiliating acts of public penance in the streets of London, before being exiled to the Isle of Man.

The Duke was also arrested for treason a few days later, at Bury St Edmunds. It's not clear why he died very soon afterwards, but it's not unlikely that some skulduggery took place. Some say he suffered a stroke at the shock.

His supporters were mecilessly rounded up and done away with in the vilest possible manner, by being hanged, drawn and quartered.

But I digress. Humphrey, despite being a bit of a Duke-about-town who couldn't keep his codpiece done up and enjoyed drinking the odd cup of cockerel's blood, was also a sensitive soul who yearned to learn. He started corresponding with Italian scholars and collecting books. He inherited the manor of Greenwich (as you do) and decided that he was going to build a fancy new gaff with a massive library of splendid tomes.

He already had five other manors as well as Baynards Castle in London itself, but he craved a bijou country place all for his very own. He was granted a license to crenellate and crenellate he did - towers and turrets a-go-go. These were dangerous times and the Old Dover Road, from Roman times to Dicken's age was a hotspot for dodgy characters, from mobs of revolting peasants to dandy highwaymen. Humphrey wasn't taking any chances.

It was probably not just a fortress, though, but a rather nice house too. (He also had a place near the river called Bella Court or Plesaunce - from which Placentia grew.) Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester's library was the talk of the age - volumes from all over the world, all hand-copied by scribes and monks from the great seats of learning of the Middle Ages.

Amazingly, the bulk of it survives today, as the foundation of the Bodleian Library at Oxford, "Duke Humphrey's Library." The Duke gave hundreds of books to the young university during his lifetime, though I confess I have never really worked out why...

More about Duke Humph's Tower another time...

Quantum Cloud

Antony Gormley, 1999

Greenwich Peninsula (North Greenwich tube)


Quantum Cloud is that strange-looking sculpture very close to the Dome which, if you first view it in winter from a distance you might mistake for a very odd tree.

It's Antony Gormley's tallest structure - 30m high - and yes, that IS taller than The Angel of the North (and by the way, Ken - we don't NEED an 'Angel of the South' to let people know when they've reached London.)

It took months of arguing in our household to decide whether we could see a shadowy human figure depicted in the centre of this ovoid tree of what looks suspiciously like scaffolding bars, but there IS actually 'someone' in there - Gormley himself, apparently.

It's all very clever stuff, based on algebra,where he programmed the shape of his own body into a computer, then created a random 'cloud' of squared bars of galvanised steel around it. The way the 20m figure is created is merely by having a greater density of the bits of metal welded together in the centre. At some angles the figure is quite clear, at others it just looks like a mass of tangled TV aerials, an ambiguity that Gormley intended, according to his artist's statement at the time. The outer antennae are supposed to move with the wind, but I've never noticed.

Our Cloud at Greenwich is one of at least 11 different Quantum Clouds, I believe, with figures in various positions, but Gormley's website despite clearly having spent considerably more cash than I have on this one, is not an awful lot easier to navigate around and eventually I gave up trying to find any more about it. I got the feeling from his statement that the one on the Peninsula was the first, but ultimately I guess I don't really care. It's one of my favourite sculptures in the area - or, indeed at all. It's only when you get near to it (you can't get really close as it's slightly offshore) that you can really see how clever it is to work at so many different levels and angles.

Hooray for Public Art.

Channers

Organic/Fairtrade coffee shop, Trafalgar Rd, SE10

This is one of those odd places that just spring up overnight without anyone noticing. I was actually on my way to test out Point Zero but, passing the site of that old record shop Decksterity and seeing a brand new place I'd never seen before was too tempting by half.

It's a spartan fit. The people who did this up were clearly working on a very tight budget, and I can't say it doesn't show.

The white-painted walls are ever-so-slightly lumpy and some of the doors could really do with an extra coat of gloss. The ubiquitous laminate flooring (doesn't anyone do anything else these days?) was cheaply furnished with IKEA-style tables and chairs, and the walls were virtually bare. It has the feel of somewhere that hasn't been finished yet - and that may well be the case. There are some shelves with a slightly random selection of greetings cards and a few jars of something, a one or two framed Fairtrade posters and that's about it.

But it's not always the decor that makes a place and I'm happy to say that the somewhat odd style choices (there's a sort of coat-of-arms on the shop sign) are not an indication of the service I got in this place. Lovely, friendly people, eager to please and talk, made me a delightful cup of coffee. It wasn't quite what I ordered but it was made with such enthusiasm and it frankly looked so good that I kept it. It tasted good too.

A very friendly Scottish guy invited me to sit downstairs in their "quiet" area - though to be honest, apart from a couple of French chaps the area upstairs was silent too. I walked down some quite sweetly silver-and-white painted stairs to a lounge with beige IKEA-style sofas and some little tables. There was a bookshelf with a fairly eclectic, but nevertheless welcome selection of volumes and a rack for newspapers - as yet unfilled. Here too, the walls could have done with a little extra paint, but these are people who are clearly doing their best on a shoestring. The guy told me they hope to have some nice gentle music (not radio) here soon, which would be welcome.

The Fairtrade /Organic label doesn't usually come cheap, but these people seem to be trying to keep their prices down. I paid £ 1.50 for my coffee and the sandwiches and other simple snacks seemed similarly reasonably-priced.

I wish Channers luck. I'm hoping that soon they may be able to make the place a little less bare, but as long as they serve nice coffee with a big smile, in my book that's already a long way to getting it right.

Point Zero

Polish Cafe/Deli

Trafalgar Rd, SE10

I've been watching the progress of this place through darkened windows ever since the ridiculously-named "Yew Wood Knot Believe It" closed. At first I feared that it had merely been done up for the living accommodation above it, leaving the shop below to rot- and frankly I suspect it had been - there's now a rather awkwardly-shaped entrance to the shop below as yet another minuscule flatlet has been created upstairs. But unlike others further along in Woolwich Road which have received the same treatment but are left all dressed up and nowhere to go, whitewashed windows the furthest you can see in, luckily someone decided to show a little faith and move in.

I guess I should admit right now that I don't think this particular cafe is aimed at the likes of me. It is very much a Local Polish Shop for Local Polish People. And good for them. It's nicely done on the whole and of course I don't mind if a shop's not really for me if it's a credit to the neighbourhood.

And it's really not bad to look at. They've obviously spent money on it - little recesses in the front with long mirrors, a curved glass counter with a large selection of Polish sausages, meats, cheeses and other cold goods, and, at the back, a series of arched wooden shelves groaning with imported Polish tins, jars and packet goods. They seem almost stereotypical to me - lots of pickles, sausages and root vegetable soups in the main, though there are some interesting-looking blancmanges and other dishes. I suspect this selection very much represents 'comfort food' for people far away from home - and, were I living in Poland, I would be delighted at a reciprocal store there.

The rest is fashionably plainly decorated - the omnipresent laminate floors, slung ceiling with inset lighting and white-painted walls, but it's well done and suits the three simple round tables at the front with their wiggly blue glass vases filled with sprigs of spring flowers. The floor and window sill are filled with Polish fashion magazines (and one or two token English-language ones so the rest of us don't feel too left out...)

Somewhat randomly along one wall lies a fridge of sundry cold drinks, and at the back there's another with some interesting-looking cream cakes. As I walked in I was greeted by The Carpenters, a nice retro throwback - until I realised they were on the radio, which, one I realised it was a random choice, somehow didn't seem quite so cool.

The staff seemed a little distant - but not unpleasant. Perhaps it was a language thing. They got my coffee order wrong, but changed it immediately with no fuss. I always think that getting something wrong happens to us all from time to time - it's the way that people deal with mistakes that makes the difference.

I confess the coffee itself was a bit on the strong side for me, already suffering from The Mother Of All Hangovers. This brain-splitting brew was so thick that I could almost physically feel it travelling upwards to sear through my head as yet another punishment for the previous night's indiscretions. I think even on a good day this would have been a bit dark for me, though as a cup of coffee to look at it was a thing of beauty - thick brown-white crema, almost entirely obscuring dark, dark coffee below. A medium cup cost £ 1.75

I'm glad Point Zero has opened. It looks good, sells interesting things and, I suspect, will stylishly fill a gap in the market for people a long way from home. But I don't think it's going to replace the Trafalgar Cafe in my own affections just yet...

See tomorrow for the other new caff along Trafalgar Road...

The Silk Route

Greenwich Covered Market, SE10

Tucked away near a dark-ish corner of Greenwich Market where there are more dead shops and blank walls than anywhere else in the square, The Silk Route is a welcome flash of colour and exotic luxury. In some respects it almost doesn't matter what it sells inside, the bright flashes of satin and sparkling fairy lights, the velvets and silks of the window display and the tasselled Thai umbrellas justify the shops existence in sheer joi-de-vivre.

It's a shop that lifts my heart when I walk past. Inside, the rich-red glow of silk lanterns and the twinkle of fairy lights continues as neat shelves of Far-Eastern goods line the walls of this tiny shop. Bolts of cloth, embroidered cushion covers, satin bags and little brocade pouches are the mainstay, though there are lots of little dishes of beaded fripperies and various clothes.

Wall hangings and beady curtains, pincushions in the shape of a circle of Chinese children, the odd wooden box, most of these things are not unfamiliar to us these days, but it would be churlish to imply that that makes them any less enjoyable to see. They do have some different stuff - there are currently some lovely satin umbrellas (much more classic-Occidental in style than the traditional parasols outside) - and I'd say it was well worth a look - though at weekends, like the rest of the market, it does get a bit full...

"Capability" Bowes

I don't really want to get into doing 'plugs' for things on this site that I don't have any experience of, but Russell Bowes looks like the sort of guy I like, and I think he's Worth Knowing About.

Russell's a Garden Historian, who gives lectures up and down the country to places as far and wide as The Eden Project, The National Portait Gallery and Waddesdon about various topics from Capability Brown to gardens in painting. Locally, he can do consultations on a freelance basis on creating a garden appropriate to their period property.

I don't know Russell personally, but he seems like a Very Interesting Local Person, and I like interesting local people. Check out his website at

www.capabilitybowes.com

and if you're into theatre, take a peek at his reviews too...

Freecycle

I was going to write about something totally different today, but Russell sent me a mail which reminded me that I hadn't actually mentioned Freecycle yet.

I am astounded at the number of people who don't know about this fantastic piece of logic. It's a win-win situation for everyone - except the manufacturers and purveyors of tat - and let's face it - are we going to weep for them if they don't sell an extra nasty cheap item at a vastly inflated price?

In case you don't know what Freecycle is then make yourselves comfortable, children. All your storage/waste/eco-guilt problems are solved - not to mention that you might actually get something fab yourself.

Freecycle is a Yahoo group which aims to keep useable rubbish out of landfill. It starts with someone posting up something they want to get rid of. It can be an old TV, a bicycle tyre, a microwave, children's toys, clothes - you name it, people post it.

Everyone who's signed up to the list receives info about what's on offer. Since there's bound to be someone in London who wants it, the next thing is that someone arranges to come and collect the item as soon as possible. There is only one rule - no money can change hands.

Everyone gets a result. The person giving away their own particular "piece of old tut" is relieved of having to drag it to the dump, the person receiving their own particular "lovely treasure" gets something they want for the price of collecting it and the local tip has extra room.

I love Freecycle. I have personally got rid of an entire kitchen (someone came and collected it from Woolwich in installments in a Ford Fiesta) a microwave, a fridge, a stereo - plus many other items - all of which were perfectly good, but had just been upgraded and I no longer needed. Russell tells me he has got rid of some Lloyd Loom chairs, a pasta maker and various dodgy Christmas presents. What he has got, though, is amazing - but pretty typical - a double bed from someone who couldn't be bothered to sell, a flat-screen monitor for his PC - you name it you can find it here. From the sublime - a bag of rubble - to the ridiculous - I've seen cars listed and, once, an AGA...

It's not just big stuff. You can offer (or get) spare seedlings for your garden, the free DVDs that come with newspapers - anything (that isn't alive.) It's worth putting slightly broken stuff up there too because a lot of artists use it to get 'unusual' materials. I've seen things like "offered - TV - broken" - and then seen, a few days later "taken - TV- broken."

I particularly love Freecycle because I've always had a problem with throwing things away if they're still good. If they can go to a good home I can declutter without guilt. The one thing you must remember is that everything has to be free. If you want to sell something, take it to Greenwich Auctions or Ebay.

I have always used the London version of Freecycle - partially because I want my stuff to go and I can never be absolutely sure that anything smaller is a big enough catchment area.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freecyclelondon/

Russell tells me there is now a local Greenwich one. I have no experience of it, but since the more local people are, the less chance of no-shows, I would probably now advertise my stuff on that one first. I have had a few problems finding it though - maybe you could post a URL, please, Russell?

Pizza Express

6, Greenwich Church St, SE10

It's a Pizza Express. There's little more to say than that. If you know the chain, you'll know the restaurant. Geared primarily to tourists, it does pretty well on the corner opposite St Alfeges Church. It's your usual bright, modern, clattery-type restaurant with inset lighting, wooden floors and metal-backed chairs which does your usual range of not-bad pizzas and the odd pasta dish and salad (I rather like the nicoise.)

The Pizza Express restaurants were started back the 60s by Peter Boizot and they were really cutting-edge and fresh for the time. What he did really well was combine his love of pizza with his other big obsession - jazz. Jazz and pizza were synonymous with the chain - and it was extremely chic back in the 60s & 70s.

The logo survives in all its mid-century glory, at least. And right into the 90s the entire chain continued to have live jazz, but these days only the Dean St and Pizza on the Park really do much in the way of music - though the Maidstone branch still occasionally has acts. The Greenwich branch stopped doing regular music in the early 2000s - yet another sell-out for live music in the town. I haven't been back since.

The only way I can be reasonably confident about the place is that apart from the odd special the menu never changes and the service tends to be similar. It may no longer be terribly exciting, but at least you know what you're getting - and you can see it being prepared, for which, if you've read Kitchen Confidential, you may well be grateful. It always seems fairly full.

Anyone been recently who can tell me it's changed in any way whatsoever?

Boulangerie Jade

44, Tranquil Vale Blackheath

A splendid place to wile away a sunny Sunday morning after you've visited the farmers market at the Station, still reeling from the prices, Boulangerie Jade does good coffee and exquisite French fancy cakelets gooey buns and tarts. They do pastries, sandwiches and snacks to die for, but the best bits are those fab cakes, all made on the premises every day. With names like Chocolatier, Framboisier and White Chocolate and Rasberry Marquise, this is yet another waistline-buster - but what a way to go.

You can get seasonal stuff too - from chocolate logs at Christmas and hot cross buns at Easter to Cholla every Friday. And considering the effort, freshness and surroundings, (and the amount you've probably just shelled out at the market) it's not horribly expensive either.

They do extra large whole cakes, flans and tarts - in sizes to fit any occasion, though it's best to order something special a couple of days in advance. They also have a traiteur service.

Oh - that there were more places like this in Greenwich itself. I love Daisy Cakes Bake Shop but you can't sit out in the sunshine and scoff your buns on the premises, and fab though the Royal Hill Lovelies are, the selection is nothing like this fantastic little patisserie.

If you plan on going more than once, don't forget to pick up Boulangerie Jade's little loyalty card where every 10th coffee's free.

Ex-Working Men's Club

Catherine asks:

"I just discovered your website when looking to find out what happened to the JET gas station on Woolwich Rd.... Which then made me think to ask you if you know anything about the 'Under Offer Restaurant' sign on the corner of Woolwich and Chilver St.... the old Working Men's Club... any idea what restaurant we can expect to open up?"

Catherine - this is exactly the question I was asking the guy in Cafe Massala only a few days ago. After all - his shop's opposite said dead club - he, if anyone, should know. Sadly he doesn't. He says he's never seen anyone going in or out of the place - and let's face it, it's been "under offer" for yonks. I'm wondering whether there's actually anything at all going on there; whether it's just another sign that's been left up there to pique our curiousities. In my fantasies it's an exciting, interesting indpendent restaurant. In more sober times I suspect it's more likely to be a burger bar or another sodding fried chicken joint.

Anyone else got any news on this? If developers actually had their eyes on the ball, they'd realise that thre are new flats going up left, right and centre and all the people that will be moving in will also need to eat, so there would be a market for somewhere nice. Sadly I think they only have their eyes on building as many dwellings as possible rather than actually servicing them...

Singing and Playing

Elaine fancies getting musical and asks:

Singing - I can't really do it very well and I'd like to take lessons. No Xfactor plans but just as a nice little hobby.

Piano -Does anyone know any good local teachers? I can go to them or theycan come to me (which is cheaper?) I haven't played since I was a child andif I'm going to spend time dusting the thing I may as well learn to playagain!

Elaine - I'm not au fait with singing teachers round here - but a few suggestions would include checking at The Forum, Trinity (they may do extra-curricular stuff) and in one of the libraries for notices. Blackheath Concert Halls also have a music school, but it may just be for kiddies.

If you fancy a warble yourself, Monday nights at Mycenae House are music nights where they have a house trio and people of all abilities from beginner to professional get up and do a number or two. As the evening progresses, various instrumentalists join the band and it can get quite busy. It's a very supportive atmosphere. You could go along one week and see whether its your sort of thing.

Piano lessons. I hear very good reports about Viktor Obsust, who teaches from scratch and is very happy to tutor adults. His email is, according to the friend of mine he teaches, obsust@gmail.com but he's not sure if he's got that right. If it's not that, come back and I'll ask him again.

There are huge amounts of musicians in Greenwich - perhaps a combination of cheapish (for London) accommodation and Trinity Music College. There is a lot of music going on (no thanks to a certain restaurant chain) and you're bound to find interesting people once you start looking. I am sure others will be able to point you to other good teachers or classes.

Danson House

Danson Rd - between Bexleyheath and Welling.


Whilst driving along the A2 yesterday, I caught a glimpse of a splendid-looking Georgian Mansion, and realised that it must be Danson House which I'd read had reopened last year after a total restoration.

Danson House is in the unlikely geographical position between Bexleyheath and Welling - not very encouraging if you don't look at the historic context. But when it was begun in 1762, it was deep in the countryside, a cough and a spit from The Old Dover Road and yet very convenient for its owner, John Boyd, to get to the office - one of London's first commuters, it would seem...

Boyd had cash - but it was 'new money,' inherited only from his father Augustus, which automatically made him nouveau riche. Augustus made his pile through sugar plantations in the Caribbean - hardly something to shout about this year, the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the slave trade (more about that on another day) but enough in those days to allow his son to lead the life of a gentleman.

John Boyd had studied theology and loved the arts, but ended up working for his father, living in Lewisham - again a tad nicer then than it is now. He had had his eye on the park at Danson, but though he'd snapped up the lease it took an act of parliament for him to be able to rather sneakily buy-out the Almshouse trust that its previous owner had left in his will. He purchased it for £ 100 and kept acquiring land piecemeal up to 600 acres.

Danson House was completed in 1766. It's a charming palladian-style villa, and not gigantic like so many of the country piles of the day. Neat, economical and with a clear box-like design, it feels like a home you could actually imagine people living in, though it has the sanitised, risk-free feel of a 'house open to the public' these days (if you're not into that kind of thing, the only place I know of to really get down and dirty with history is the incredible Dennis Severs House in Spitalfields.)

Danson's had its ups and downs over the years, and in 1923 Bexley Council bought it - then did bugger-all to it save selling-off the surrounding land for housing and implementing some atrocious 'repairs' in the 1950s. Eventually it became derelict, and, arguing that it was beyond repair, the council decided to pull it down. Central Government, however, had other ideas and the resulting stalemate meant that it just got worse and worse.

Things came to a head at Christmas 1995 when burglars stole all the fixtures and fittings over the holiday period, and bundled them into containers to be shipped abroad. They were actually recovered but not until English Heritage declared Danson Park to be London's "most significant building at risk." EH, somewhat belatedly, took over the remaining dogs dinner of a building and started an extraordinary programme of repairs which finished a couple of years ago.

And it's an amazing piece of work. Looking at it now, it's nigh-on impossible to imagine what it must have looked like beforehand. God-only knows how much it all must have cost.

The fabulous dining room has had all its paintings restored and carpets have been rewoven to fit the octagonal salon, which overlooks the remaining parkland and the lake. The library has a totally-restored organ - though the books are fake. Downstairs the kitchens are bright and airy and filled with items from Bexley Heritage Trust's collection.

The house was in such a state that virtually nothing was left in some rooms - and literally just the studs from the walls at the very top, though one or two of the charming ceilings and fireplaces remained. A major help was a series of eight extremely detailed watercolours of the interiors painted by a young girl in the 1860s which appear to be remarkably accurate.

Up the delicate oval staircase which snakes its way up the centre of the house like some kind of exotic snail, lit by an oval lantern at the top, there are rooms which though once bedrooms are clearly meant to help supplement modern Danson's financial future - set out as meeting rooms for corporate events and weddings. On the very ground floor the tea-rooms look out across the lake, though sadly the little doric temple was removed to St Paul Waldenbury in Hertfordshire in 1963, which I can't find much out about, save that it seems to specialise in removing garden features from endangered properties. Whether it specialises in returning them is less certain.

The only bit of the restoration I'm not really convinced by are the ultra-modern inset lights in the bedroom, but I'll give EH the benefit of the doubt and assume "they had their reasons" for this extraordinary anachronism.

It sort of feels wrong that a country estate like this isn't miles away - it's a fifteen minute drive from Greenwich at most. But it really is a lovely little place and I'd say well worth a trip on a sunny day. The old stables are now a pub that does food - we didn't eat there but it looked fine.The park looks like a pleasant walk, but the wind was blowing us about so badly our ears hurt and we gave up.

They have some interesting events though you'll have to call or drop in to find out about them - the website is "under construction."

http://www.historicdanson.com/

The Thames Barrier

A week ago a 1" column at the bottom of page 10 of The News Shopper announced an event held by the Institute of Materials at the Thames Barrier. In true News Shopper style the closing date for registration was five days before publication, but I called the IOM anyway and the event wasn't full.

Everything seems to have a dual purpose at the Barrier - the coach park that sits suspiciously close to the thirty-odd foot river bank doubles as an emergency hospital if one of the giant sills that move round to actually become the barrier gets sick. They weigh so much that they'd have to rip out the trees and bulldoze down the bank to get one on land, but once it gets dragged onto that platform it won't fall through as it's been specially strengthened from below.

We had to wear hard hats (always makes you feel like you're going to see something exciting) and carry gas masks because given the close proximity of oil, water and electricity fire is a real risk.

Basically, each of those lovely boat-shaped steel piers that poke up so charmingly across the river at Charlton/Woolwich is connected deep under the riverbed by a giant, mainly cut-away cylinder which rolls round bringing the little rounded wall that's left after the cut-away up above the water to create a barrier. And underneath them there are connecting corridors full of pipes and wires and strange machines which make you feel like you're a member of the Nautilus's crew...

It's not for the claustrophobic or anyone with a heights problem. There are lifts - but there were too many of us to use them, so we trooped up and down open stairwells made of thick, grey concrete, with steps made of metal mesh - you go down, along a corridor, and then up again to each pier (or at least that's what I think's happening - it all looks exactly the same down there and I quickly lost any sense of where I was.)

The corridors have shelves full of electric cables running down one side, and enormous pipes full of water for the sprinkler system down the other and seem to go on for miles and it's almost a relief to get back up onto one of the piers.

The piers themselves are lined with wood which really does give the impression of them being upturned boats. They house the operational gear. They've got cute little portholes too, from which you can get some amazing views of the river.

The sheer size of the hydraulic system is the most impressive thing - gigantic yellow pumps and massive hulks of thick steel connected to some of the thickest electricity cables I have ever seen. There are three different power stations supplying electricity from various parts of London but even they can go wrong and in the past the Barrier has had to rely on its own little generators to operate the piers.

My favourite bit, not being any kind of engineer, was getting to actually stand out on one of the piers and look back at The Woolwich Ferry, forward to the Dome and sideways to the banks. There are massive cranes on each pier and, of course, the operational gear.

The rest of the day was given over to some fascinating lectures including a guy from Thames Water explaining exactly what happens when they replace the Victorian water mains which we're all suffering at the moment. Other speakers represented sustainable drainage systems which, although innovative, don't seem to be taken seriously enough by the government yet. Did you know that there's a B&Q car park in Portsmouth which has permeable tarmac which drains away to a tank underneath to flush the loos? No more puddles and a reduction in drinking water use. Fantastic. Why didn't we get that at the Peninsula? That was supposed to be green, wasn't it?

I wasn't quite so impressed with the guy who wants to build loads of "sustainable" houses in the Thames Gateway, possible on stilts since it has, after all, never been built on before because it is a flood plain. They might be cheap to erect but the engineers don't seem to have taken aesthetics into consideration and if they want to attract a mix of people to live there rather than turn it into some kind of ghetto, they really do need to do better than that looks-wise IMHO.

The day wasn't cheap, by the way - not actually qualifying for any concessions meant about 80-odd quid for a ticket which still keeps me awake at night. But I would do it again. A fascinating day...

Not sure if the IOM is doing any more trips, but if the cost doesn't make you nearly sick I would definitely recommend it as a one-off treat.

http://www.iom3.org/EVENTS/index.htm

The Thames Barrier doesn't seem to have its own website but there's loads more technical info at

http://www.environment-agency.gov.uk/regions/thames/323150/335688/341764/

There's an exhibition and visitors centre at the Barrier but you can't normally go on the piers. The guy who showed us round said that people sometimes write and ask to have a special visit and they try to fit them onto an organised trip like the one I went on, so it may be worth a try.

Manchesters Flowers

Woolwich Rd

Since it's Mothering Sunday tomorrow I thought I'd go for an obvious one...

It must be a real bummer to have your business plan all worked out, your market nailed and your site decided upon, only to discover a few years later that someone's moved the goalposts.

There is a whole row of little shops which were obviously intended to compliment the old Greenwich District Hospital. Two funeral parlours, a minicab firm and Manchesters grace Woolwich Road opposite a totally empty site, looking a bit forlorn these days. Presumably the other shops that were once there to service the hospital were unable to keep going once the place had gone - there are many dead shops in that part of Woolwich Road, but with a bit of luck Manchesters at least can keep going until we get whatever's going up instead.

It's a smashing little shop. Easily the best-looking in Woolwich Road (though let's face it, there's very little competition) its dark green livery and interesting window displays are a little oasis of pretty in a part of Greenwich which is generally a bit grim. Inside, they're friendly and helpful. I would imagine that the bulk of their trade is Interflora-type work, but they always seem to be able to break off to make you up a bouquet, sell you a pot of daffs or arrange a floral surprise for your mum.

It's a perfect example of a business that realises that even if most of their custom comes from telephone and internet orders, having an excellent shop front is an ideal way of drumming up interest on a local basis.

Undercover Experience - take note...

www.manchestersflowers.co.uk

Murals

Jonathan asks:

"What is the origin of the huge mural on the flats facing St Alfege school?"

Blimey. You've got me stumped there, Jonathan. I CAN find out for you, but sadly not today, as Proper Work deadlines loom over my head. I'll do my best to find out for you asap, but in the meanwhile if anyone else has any clues, they'll be welcomed here.

Woolwich - Bargain City

Yesterday, in a 'proper work' avoidance move, I trotted over to Peggy Middleton House to check out the Olympic Proposals, which were only there until today.

They're very much Info-lite - lots of pictures of random smiling people and artists' impressions of joggers running through non-specific parkland and a few indecipherable maps. They included nothing at all about anything this side of the river, which was most disappointing. I was told that since they haven't had any plans submitted they don't officially know about any Olympic plans for Greenwich - despite another artist's impression of the equestrian events in Greenwich Park in the council's own newsletter.

I had particularly wanted to see the plans because I am mildly worried about any long-term damage the events in the park will cause - such as the loss of any ancient trees, planting patterns or that superb, mature herbacious border by the Queens House wall. No such luck.

But I digress.

On being thwarted in my efforts to save Greenwich's flowerbeds (ahem,) I decided that a spot of retail therapy was needed, and went for a wander down Woolwich's pedestrianised high street.

I'd forgotten what a fab place Woolwich is for genuine bargains. Forget poncy out-of-town outlet parks, if you can get past the fact that it's a bit on the scruffy side, Woolwich is the home of REAL factory outlet shops.

Marks & Spencer, for a start. They do proper reductions on real last-season stuff - and since most M&S stuff is hardly cutting-edge anyway, going for the 'classic' market instead, it's frankly just as good this year as last. Men's, women's and children's - as well as the odd homeware, smelly or novelty good. At the back there's a food store (not sale stuff, natch.)

If you carry on down towards the river, you'll pass various cheapo outlets - from brand-name makeup and tolietries at rock-bottom prices to bedlinen and housewares, games and stationery.

Another real find is the Clarks Factory Shop - right down the end. This is a real free-for-all - with Clarks usual quality-footwear at ridiculously low prices - again, men's, women's and children's - a real plus if you've got kiddies with growing feet and not an awful lot of cash - you get good quality at low prices. Take a pal with you as they often do offers where you get one pair for a low price, two pairs for even less, and they practically pay you to take away three pairs. At the moment they have boxes and boxes of party shoes - but they always carry other stuff too.

I guess it's down to individual conscience whether the basement-bargain stores such as Primark, Peacock and Poundland (all the 'p's) are a great way of keeping low-income British families within a reasonable standard of living or a middle-class guilt-trip as stories about third-world sweatshops fill the papers, but if you're with the former camp, they're all here too.

Also to be found - Boots, WH Smith, New Look...you've got the picture.

Whatever you think of Woolwich - it's certainly worth a trip - if only to enjoy the buzz of activity that a sunny day and a few special offers produces.

Tuesday Nights at Olivers

You know I'm always moaning that we never know what's on at Olivers? Well it seems the artists have taken it into their own hands (probably wise) and, on Tuesdays at least we can now find out.

Go to Von Twist's site to find listings of what he compares every week. I'll pop along myself when I get a free Tuesday (sadly not for a few weeks just yet...)

Let me know what you think if you go.

www.myspace.com/thetwistacoustic

Jet Garage

The Jet Garage along Woolwich Road next door to the weird-shaped offices and East Greenwich Library has closed. The guys told me that the land's been bought for - guess what - luxury flats...

Tutankhamun Exhibition

Am I the only one who's getting slightly cross with the papers at the moment? Have you seen all those headlines about curses and Pharaohs and Domes just because we're not getting the boy-king's golden mask at the forthcoming exhibition?

If the mask is too delicate to leave Egypt, as Dr Zahi Hawass says - or even if the Egyptians choose to keep the mask for frankly understandably touristic reasons, it's NOTHING TO DO WITH THE DOME.

It didn't go to Philadelphia and we ALWAYS KNEW it wouldn't be coming here - so what's the big deal with all the headlines this week? We've got everything else - now that we're not getting the casino - and I personally can't wait to see the treasures which I didn't get to see the first time round because I was 'too young' and my parents thought I'd want the toilet just as they got to the front of the mile-long queue.

Which is why I thought I'd share a link I've just discovered on the 02 (God I hate typing that name) website where you can register your interest in up to 8 tickets for the exhibition. You don't have to say what day you want to go - or even part with any cash up front, but you will get a unique registration number which will guarantee you get tickets. Given that it's almost certainly going to sell out, in my book it's worth signing up even if you don't know if you're going yet. I note they're being somewhat coy about how much the tickets will actually cost...


http://www.kingtut.org/plan_your_visit/london

Blockbuster

Trafalgar Rd

I know, I know. You weren't expecting me to like this, were you...

Blockbuster is hardly the Home of Alternative Cinema. The selection of anything that isn't, well - blockbusters - is extremely limited and frankly, given the size of the store, the selection of anything at all isn't wild, with far too much space given over to cheap retail DVDs and computer games for my personal taste. My own choice would be a small independent that stocked a wide range of Hollywood Action, European Art and Japanese Manga along with everything in between.

But - and it's a big but - given that we have a chain, the next best thing to an indie store is personal service of the kind you get here.

Greenwich Blockbuster has some really knowledgeable, helpful and friendly staff who will take as much time as you need to find something they think you'll like, whilst also wryly acknowledging the limited range. They'll talk to you about the sort of thing you like and recommend stuff they think you'll enjoy. They're not always spot-on - but they try - and then remember to ask if you enjoyed what you borrowed. They have even been known to advise me not to take one DVD because they thought it really was tosh and another title because it would be on special offer the following week.

To be singled out in particular is the big guy who works there - if he's not in the store you might find him lurking outside with a sneaky fag. He goes to inordinate lengths to help. The two young guys who seem to be there when the big chap isn't are also very friendly.

Obviously, you're going to get the best service if you don't go in at 7.00pm on a Friday night - but I have never known these guys to be anything other than helpful.

So. A chain I like. Though if these guys were to strike out on their own and start a really good DVD rental shop I'd be there like a shot. Not that I'm hinting or anything.

BTW has anyone tried those mail-order rental firms? I can't ever see myself organised enough to think that a) I'll want to watch a DVD in two day's time and b) I'll know what movie I'll be in the mood for. Are other people like that too?

Ok. Just me then...

Sayes Court

Deptford

Poor old John Evelyn.

He was arguably the most refined character of his day - a man of taste, education and compassion who campaigned for the welfare of elderly seamen, liked to plant sweet chestnut trees in people's gardens and kept a diary which though perhaps not quite as 'entertaining' as that of his friend Samuel Pepys, is ever bit as illuminating to us today. Pepys mentions him several times in his journal, though reading between the lines, although the diarist admired Evelyn he sometimes found him a bit dull.

Evelyn lived in times that just weren't as sophisticated as himself. Although he kept a fine house in Deptford which attracted all the learned men of his day and held soirees which discussed the important issues of the times, his hospitality wasn't always treated with the same respect.

Evelyn's most passionate love was his Deptford garden at Sayes Court, upon which he lavished attention, planting it carefully in the formal European style with walks, vistas and intimate groves. He collected rare plants which he cared for like children - even visiting them in the middle of the great Frost Fair to check they were alright.

Trouble is, that when, in 1698, the young oaf who would later become known to the world as Czar Peter the Great came to visit Britain, ostensibly on the 17th Century equivalent of a student exchange trip to see the sights of London and learn about shipbuilding, he ended up staying at Evelyn's house. Evelyn had let it to Admiral Benbow, but Benbow got elbowed out of the way. Evelyn didn't get a look in.

When Evelyn returned to Sayes Court three months later, after the Czar had moved on, his heart was broken, as indeed, was his house. His doors had been taken down and burned, his floors and walls covered in grease, ink and whatever else the czar and his mates had cared to chuck around, Evelyn's precious collection of paintings had been used for pistol practice and not a single piece of textile from bedclothes to tapestries was left unripped or unsoiled.

But it was his precious garden that upset him most. The Czar had ruined his carefully laid-out lawns, stamped around all over his plants and totally destroyed his favourite holly hedge by he and his cronies charging around pushing each other straight through it in wheelbarrows.

The Treasury agreed it was a bit of a mess and gave him the paltry sum of 350 quid to clear it up, but Evelyn was devastated.

Sadly, if he were to see Sayes Court now he would probably just be depressed. I recently went to see what was left of one of the greatest houses of the 17thC. The house has totally disappeared - now there are just grim apartment blocks and dismal roads. covering the site Part of the garden remains, though not in anything like it would have been even after the Czar of Russia had been on his jolly.

It's now a gloomy municipal park in 1950s corporate style. Crazy-paved concrete rose beds and dull walkways are the best it offers, though maybe we should be grateful it's a splash of any kind of green and there are at least some nice big trees. There are one or two ancient Mulberry trees which I would guess do actually date from the time (James I hit on a 'brilliant' money-making wheeze by trying to introduce the silk industry to Britain. He made everyone plant mulberry trees in their back gardens, only discovering too late that they were the wrong variety for silkworms...) but nothing else to even imply that this was one of the most influential gardens of the time, visited by many members of the Royal Family in Evelyn's day. No plaque, no little explanation in the noticeboard as you walk in, no nothing.

Even today Evelyn is vastly underrated. As a final insult, the Czar's visit is commemorated by a road name in Deptford, whereas the best John Evelyn gets is an extremely dodgy-looking pub.

More about Evelyn on another day, for now I have to do some proper work...

M&S

Blackheath Standard

We've all been waiting for it - and today at 10.00am, Old Dover Road was the fullest I have ever seen as throngs of nosy people like me queued to get in to have a first peek. The local law enforcement services were also out in their droves in case there were any brawls between overexcited old girls with shopping trolleys driven crazy on M&S champagne.

As was to be expected, there was rather more hoo-ha than when the Co-op reopened last week. The celebrations involved PR girls handing out fizzy and tying balloons onto kiddies' prams. They also had hi-tech raffle tickets to win M&S vouchers if you could battle your way to the back of the store to get it checked on an ultra-violet reader. A boom-box blasted out Magic Moments and people milled around doggedly pushing giant shopping carts in a most antisocial fashion.

I naturally wanted to explore every corner of the new store, but had already made the decision not to buy anything today. Part of it was, of course, the vast queues at the checkouts (I don't think they would be a problem on any other day - they seem to have enough) but most of it was that today, of all days, it was important to visit the other shops at the Standard who have been supplying us through thick and thin (mostly thin recently.)

When it boils down to basics, this is a Marks & Spencer store. If you've seen one, frankly, you've seen them all. It's very nice indeed, with dinky boxes of dinky food at rather less dinky prices. The quality is high, and the presentation modern and fresh. It still feels a bit - well - dark inside - a problem of the building as much as anything, but the food is well displayed and appealing. I have always felt I could spend a small fortune on M&S food. There is a small bakery at the back (though don't forget Hirst &Sons) and the usual excellent ready meals.

I am pleased to see a very basic selection of M&S clothes. There is a paucity of clothing stores at the Standard (unless you're into the charity shop look) and the pants, socks, jeans and woollies are a welcome addition. There are also various toiletry items and basic homeware.

The car park is back in action - though do remember that if you stay longer than an hour it will cost you.

I squeezed out through the throngs of customers queueing round the store and visited the other shops which were, understandably, empty. GG Sparkes, Apple and Orange, Pegga Stores. NOW is the time to visit these guys, while we still have them.

Although M&S is going to be pricier than the old Somerfields I'm really hoping that this new store will begin to turn the quality of the Standard around. We have some fine specialist shops there already; hopefully they will enhanced by M&S supplying the rest of our needs and we may even get some lovely new ones. Laziness mustn't be allowed to sneak in - remember, kids - if we don't play with our toys they'll be taken away...

The Mogul

Greenwich Church St


You know I'm beginning to get a little weary of reviewing restaurants in Greenwich. Not because I'm fed up with it or want to stop, but because I'm getting tired of having to describe everything that isn't 'awful' as 'okay.'

The Mogul is, in my humble opinion, yet another ho-hum experience. I've been several times now, always hoping that it might get better and I deliberately saved this review until I'd seen the new decor.

Sadly I didn't get to see downstairs as we absolutely weren't allowed to go there (the only real reason to eat at The Mogul - in a previous life this must have been a tavern or warehouse or something - do tell if you know - as downstairs is a vaulted cellar with little alcoves and interesting nooks and crannies.) The spruce-up involved painting everything pale yellow, from what I could see.

The service is as iffy as ever and the waiter treated us with barely-concealed irritation. Of course this could be due to the party going on downstairs, but frankly it's usually like that when we go in.

It's North Indian cuisine as opposed to your usual bog-standard curries, but it's not my favourite. The meat dishes are okay (only okay,) but the vegetable side-dishes are very oily and if you're vegetarian the only options are the biryani or two side-dishes and rice. My companion asked for recommendations but if you ask me the waiter just pointed out the most expensive options rather than anything he personally thought was good.

Sitting up at street level feels a bit goldfish-like, especially if you're in the corner near the loos. Upstairs there's a bar that wasn't open, but a nosey through the glass didn't make me want to go inside - a very soulless looking room.

I can't talk for downstairs, as I wasn't allowed down there (still smarting from that.) The loos have very strong hand dryers that might blow a size 0 person clean away.

The Mogul is one of those places that some people rave about. If they love it they REALLY love it. I am not one of those people. For me it is a very average experience.

Supermarkets

Pablo asks:

From previous posts I have deduced the following:1) The Co-op has been refurbished and will continue totrade2) A new Tesco supermarket is soon to appear3) There is a Somerfield in the areaPlease excuse my ignorance (I am very new to the area)however I have the following questions:1) Where will the new Tesco be and what is thetimeline for this?2) Where is the Somerfield? Is this due for closure orwill it continue to do business?

The new Tesco will be along Trafalgar Road, a few metres closer into Greenwich than the Co-op. I have no idea how long this is going to take - but since they haven't actually finished the foundations yet I wouldn't hold my breath just yet.

Somerfield is in Greenwich High Road in that dodgy little set-back row of shops. It's a dismal, scruffy experience.

A new M&S opens at Blackheath Standard today.

Doctors, Dentists, Beauticians, Osteopaths

Jen asks:

"I've just moved into the area and need to register with a GP, Dentist and Osteopath and need to find a good beautician. Any recommendations?"

The Westcombe Park Dental Practice is all new and shiny and is, I believe, in the slightly strange situation of still taking National Health patients. They've always been good to me.

I would recommend Anita at House of Beauty (see separate entry) for all your beauty needs and there are osteopaths recommended on yet another Ask the Phantom... (scroll down to find it)

I can't help you with GPs as, ahem, I'm not actually registered with any. Anyone got any suggestions or recommendations?

Builders

Lorna asks:

"I am looking for a reliable builder, plasterer and plumber in Greenwich as I'm planning on making some changes to my new house that I've just bought! If you, or any of your readers have any advice or contacts I'd be really grateful."

I have been wondering for sometime whether I should name and shame the cowboys that made a total bog-up of the back of our place last summer, but have concluded that I can't afford the libel action that would follow the words I would use to describe them.

I actually heard of some good builders down the road in Welling last night - I'll give the people I heard it from a call and find out more details.

I can recommend really good plasterers though - Phil and Andy Cambridge, a father and son team. 020 8303 0861; 0774 712 7922. These guys are fantastic, work cleanly and quickly and are pleasant into the bargain. They've done work for lots of people I know and I have never heard a bad word against them.

I don't know whether they're also plumbers, but Blue Flame are a very good gas fitters - also pleasant and efficient. If they don't do regular plumbing I bet they can recommend a good one for you. http://www.blue-flame.co.uk/about.htm

In fact I have learned (sadly rather late) that if you need a recommendation for a craftsman, the best people to ask are other craftsmen whom you trust. It's more than their reputations are worth to recommend someone duff - and since they're not actual rivals, they're usually more than happy to suggest someone. So if you already have, say, a tiler whose work you approve of, why not ask HIM if he works with or knows a good builder?

Coleraine Rd, SE3

Thought it would be fun to start reviewing roads as well. I missed my profession - should have got a job with A-Z...

Of course, Coleraine Road isn't really technically in Greenwich at all, having an SE3 postcode. Leafy Westcombe Park sits between the two towns, but since it's 'our' side of the heath, I've always considered it to be 'one of our own.'

Running up the hill towards the heath, it more or less runs North to South-West and is one of the gentler slopes in the area. Most of the buildings are very late-Victorian and rather large - three and even four stories. They are quite grand, on the whole, some with gothic-style details like arched windows and fancy coving. Not much chance of nosying through to the back gardens, as the people who live here are, on the whole, the private sort iwth high side fences and things "in the way..." Even many of the front gardens tend to be hidden behind thick, high privet hedges. I can only hope that the gardens are long enough to ensure that the homes behind them aren't like the Black Hole of Calcutta. The houses with even numbers would get the best view across London.

They often have lots of original features - at least on the outside - classic front doors and those wonderful encaustic-tiled paths - one or two coloured, more small black and white diamonds. Some aren't in great condition - something the owners should do something about quick - have they seen the price of encaustic tiled paths - but several are in great condition (they might also have lovely encaustic tiled halls - but since I don't know anyone in any of them I don't know.) My absolute favourite is the one still shared (no nasty walls) between numbers 45/47 - a fabulous complete path of black and white diamonds, simple iron bars dividing the boundaries, not the path itself. Utterly stunning. Next door, 49/51 isn't quite so good - but still quite an eyeful. Towards to the top of the road some lovely cast (or wrought - difficult to tell) iron verandas adorn the top few houses giving them a charming, villa-esque appeal.

Not all the houses are Victorian. There are some nice Edwardian examples - and I'll put money on No 121 being an Arts& Crafts original - probably incredible inside if it's not been altered too much. The early 20th Century houses filling in the gaps have also mellowed pretty well.

My favourite house is the glorious, double-fronted "Lydney" which, with its garage (a rarity) and adjoining extension/granny flat, "Lydneyette," must also command quite a view from the back.

The whole of Greenwich is blighted with hideous modern flats - mainly because of spot-bombing during WWII, which took out individual properties rather than flattening the entire area. Coleraine Road has not escaped (the cu-de-sac Webb Rd is pretty unexciting too) but there are enough of the original houses to still keep some continuity. The flats are not attractive - late 60s, early 70s I'd say, but that was how they did things then. What I find harder to forgive is the large house nearer the top of the hill which has lost its entire garden in the past couple of years as some ghastly developer has crammed as many "luxury" flats into a Gated Horror behind it. It is utterly appalling and shouldn't have been allowed.

Coleraine Road currently enjoys free street parking. How long that will last will presumably depend on what happens as the parking spaces at the Dome dwindle.

Does anyone live in or know anyone who lives in Coleraine Road? Do add some gossip here about what it's like...

The Frog & Radiator/ Ship &Billet

Matt from Londonist asks:









"Is the Frog & Radiator still there? Not the best pub ever - but what a name."

As the splendid name, no, but that's not such a bad thing. It had been pretty grotty for some time. It went through a rather schizophrenic period a year or so ago where it couldn't decide who it was anymore. It suddenly closed down overnight - the circumstances looked a bit iffy if you ask me, but I don't know any details.

Next thing we knew it had re-opened, half done-up. That strange Frog and Radiator sign was still there, as was the name above the pub, but it had that frosted-glass effect on the windows which clearly called itself the Ship & Billet (does anyone know if this is the pub's original name?) It stayed like this for months before finally getting the rest of its revamp and finally got a 'proper' sign with a nice ship on it.

I have to say that it does look pretty smart now, though as all owners of pubs will know, they don't get to choose their clientele and smart though it may look, you see the same regulars as ever going in. On Saturday nights they have discos, with bouncers outside and I have seen posters for live music which is NEVER a bad thing, but I haven't actually been to any.

But I'll give them this. It looks great from the outside in a street that needs all the help it can get.

BTW the sister pub in Deptford, The Frog and Nightgown, also seems to have bitten the dust some time ago.

"Plunder"

The Greenwich Theatre

In one of our occasional moments of "use it or lose it," we decided to support our local theatre last night. Greenwich Theatre has had its ups and downs over the years and sometimes the only time people actually seem to notice it is when it's on the skids.

We weren't too sure about it - when the only review a play can find to advertise it seems to be some very carefully chosen words from the News Shopper, you have to think twice about something, but we went anyway.

And I have to say it was a good production. Of a bad play, that is. The cast had obviously realised back at the Watermill Theatre in Newbury that the paucity of actual gags in it meant that they'd have to make up for it in dumbshow, mugging and extra business, and they worked overtime to squeeze every last snigger possible out of it, which was sadly still not enough to guarantee a smile ever ten minutes or so.

My biggest question was what on earth the producer was thinking of reviving this museum piece in the first place. Ben Travers is one of the most famous Farcemongers of the Twentieth Century, but this is really not his finest hour. He seems to have been having some crisis of genre - or, as one companion suggested, he had been writing three different plays, suddenly had a deadline and cobbled them all together to make one unfeasible concoction of police procedural, Agatha Christie whodunnit and parlour drama. The farce was added afterwards, with a few people coming in and out of doors via the subtle means of one character saying to another "you wait outside which I'll tell someone a bit of important plot in front of the audience and, oh - take him with you."

Farce is light, fluffy nonsense. This is laboured, dated and doesn't actually make sense - whatever else farce is, it HAS to at least be logical. At one point in this, a character actually exits through the front door then reappears seconds later coming downstairs...

There was a moment in Act II where it did look like things were looking up where the usual dead-of-night-underhand-business-in-and-out-of-doors-in-a-country-house began. It lasted about five minutes before we were treated to a long scene "back at the Yard" where two plods laboured their way through a bunch of clues we already knew.

I repeat this is a good production. The set was fresh and funky, the acting really very good considering the material, but nothing was going to save this from creaking worse than the Cutty Sark.

My current theory is that the producer went to the theatre as a small boy and saw this play. In the olden days, apparently, people found it hilarious (as, indeed, we are informed, preview audiences at The Watermill thought it too) and possibly he has grown old remembering that first great experience that made him want to Go Into Theatre. It had always been his dream to revive such a masterpiece - he would know he had "made it" when he brought his own production of it to the stage.

Dear oh Dear. I don't blame Greenwich Theatre for having booked this. The pre-publicity is excellent - good posters and strong flyers and visuals. The design is great and the information they would have been sent was - well - enough to make me want to go. I don't blame the actors either - they did sterling work. But really. Material like this should be consigned to a single bound volume in the 'restricted' section of the British Library. In the hands of an amateur cast it could be lethal.

If you want to see a farce, I hear Boeing Boeing is excellent. If you fancy something with a period flavour I can't recommend highly enough the Criterion's superb The 39 Steps.

In the meanwhile, I will continue to support Greenwich Theatre. See my review of Sleeping Beauty for an example of what they can come up with, and home grown, too. I'm going to try to get to see the rest of the productions this season - and I hope you will too. Part of the charm of theatre is that you never know what you're going to get...

Quetzal

1, The Market

I confess I had avoided this shop for sometime. I'm not really an ethnic-hat kinda Phantom and I was expecting the usual patchouli-reek and colouful knitted nonsense that makes you look like a road protester from the 80s. When it all first came out I rather liked it but now you can get it on every other stall in the market and at least two shops in every highs street, not to mention charity shops and chainstores, I struggle to find anything new; anything that hasn't already been done to death for the past n years. I've even, heaven forbid, started to associate it with people's mothers, though I grudgingly admit there are at least enough students with dreadlocks at the other end to keep it going.

So I waited until I was with people who actually like that kind of thing before setting foot inside, swearing that if there was any of that wafty Enja-type music playing I was going straight out again.

The music was Cuban, actually, which I rather like, so I ventured further in. And much to my own self-disgust, I really liked the stuff he had for sale. Big chunky knits - some a bit, erm, vibrant, but others with funky cuts and interesting details. Everything's on sale at the moment because he's expecting a new delivery of summer goods which makes it a very good time to go.

There were some decent things for both men and women - some great asymmetric tops and jersey dresses. I found myself playing with some delightful children's mittens in the shape of animal puppets - the crocodile is particularly snappy, with zig-zag teeth. Grrr.

So. Once again I've learned to be a little more tolerant. This shop is well worth a peek even if you're not into Enja. Or Cuban music.

I thought I'd better look up exactly what a Quetzal was before writing this. It's a very cute, colourful tropical bird.

Co-op Update

I've just realised what it is that depresses me so much about it. It's nothing to do with what it looks like.

It's that dreadful 1970s throwback Radio Co-op relentlessly telling me about all the bargains instore as I trudge round.

Three Things I Bet You Didn't Know The Co-op Sold:

• Five kinds of babies' dummies (in two different places)
• Fridge freshener
• Pectin (in case you don't know it's an enzyme used in jam-making...)

Mr Humbug update

Matthew asks:

"What are the opening hours of Mr Humbug?"

An important question indeed.

You can indulge your sweet tooth every day except Monday, Matthew. On Saturdays and Sundays he's open from 10.00am, Tuesday to Friday from 11.00am

He's one of those delightfully organic small shopkeepers who officially closes at 5.30pm but if he's still busy (usually at the weekend) he'll stay open til 6.00pm.

Be careful though. This guy has the gift of the gab. Before you know it you'll be the size of a train.

Council Salaries

Roger Helm asks:

"Who are the 9 Greenwich council staff, reported in the Standard this week, as earning 100,000+ a year. What do they do for us each day to justify this money."



This is possibly more a question for another website, GreenwichWatch - www.greenwichwatch.blogspot.com - than me. Annoyingly I didn't see the Standard article so I don't know the context but I'd certainly be interested to know in which capacity these guys are employed. I suspect they may be contractors rather than salaried staff, but this is merely conjecture.

Does the Standard mention these council staff by name or even position? If not, how can we be sure that they've actually got it right and not, ahem, misunderstood the situation? I'm not setting myself up to defend the council, BTW, but I am in the embarrassing position of not knowing coucil staff pay levels.

Does anyone have any more info? Are there any council positions that we might actually consider to be worth 100k?

The Co-Op

Trafalgar Rd

I am proud of the Co-op - the little 'ave a go Joe that fancies its chances enough to meet the Tesco Goliath head-on in the Battle of Trafalgar Road.

It's stolen one March (fnarr fnarr) in that it's managed to close, refurb and re-open in a matter of a couple of weeks while the lumbering retail monolith still thrashes around removing original Edwardian shop fittings and digging foundations down to Australia.

Which is why I am truly sad to report that that's just about the only thing that the Co-op has managed to do.

As you approach, it's naturally the shop front that strikes first. What is it that makes supermarkets install giant plate glass windows then cover them in sticky-back plastic with close-up pictures of cabbages glistening with 'morning dew?' It's not just the Co-op that does it - they all do - but don't they realise that punters might actually prefer to have a couple fewer choices of penny wafer brands in return for a few rays of natural sunlight?

I am not going to say anything about the shop signs save that I'm assuming they're temporary.

I have to admit that the Co-op is better now than it was. Tragically that's not really saying much. My overall memory of the old store is a tatty display of cheap women's mags falling out of the shelves as you walked in, followed by half-empty tatty displays of sad-looking veg and baskets of 2-for-1 bakewell tarts with orange stickers. Later on there was a tatty, half-empty display of yogurts with orange stickers and more bargain bins. When you'd finally made your choice, you'd either queue up at one of two tills which might or might not be open or stand in line at the cig counter.

As I walked in yesterday, the display of cheap women's mags had expanded to a few more titles and was in shelves that looked like they might keep them a bit neater. The veg seemed slightly more various, but was already running out and looking hap-hazard. As I moved further into the store the fridges were new - but once again the products looked thin on the ground. The one thing they do seem to have bought in bulk are the ubiquitous orange stickers.

The tatty bargain bins remain. The gloomy lighting remains. And, even though they had the opportunity to change it, the ridiculous checkout system remains. They've admitted that the stand-alone checkout counters were never open and done away with them, but all they've replaced it with are several people at a long counter-like till with individual queues, rather than one queue feeding into all. It was only about 9.30 and people were already grumpy, complaining that 'their' queue was moving more slowly than anyone else's.

Really - M&S manage to make these places look cool. The Co-op looks not much different to before. What staggers me is that they've obviously spent money on this - but have failed to do basic things like working out the queuing system. The not-very-encouraging counter to this is that Tescos probably won't look much better.

I'm sad. I like the Co-op's principles and would always prefer it to the might of the Tesco Titan. It's made a few small forays - I liked the little display of essential DIY bits and bobs, for example, but though I might be wrong I seriously doubt the ability of this refit to stand up to the might of the Tesco Juggernaut.

First "review" for the Phantom!

Methers has kindly pointed out that this site has been chosen as "find of the week" in The Londonist:

http://www.londonist.com/archives/2007/03/blogjammin_4.php

I'll be the one walking round Greenwich with a head the size of a house, then...

Cheers Methers!

Hairdressers

Kim asks:

"I have been going to Go West at the standard for some time and it is fine but my hair is not sensational. Is there any other good hairdressers you could recommend, that don't cost the earth but do a great job. Would appreciate a quick answer, need to get it cut this weekend/Monday if poss"

You would think that with the plethora of hairdressers around - a infinite number on Trafalgar and Woolwich roads for a start - that there would be somewhere that stands out but I haven't heard much about any of them - most people just say, like yourself, "it's ok."

I have heard good reports of Bavardez in Trafalgar Road, but haven't been myself - so can only report hearsay.

I confess that I actually travel some distance to a friend who does mine, which I know doesn't help you. But I know that people out there will have their own opinions.

So, guys. Any chop shops we should be earmarking - or avoiding?

The Gipsy Moth IV

Reading about the Henry Moore Statue being lost to us because we didn't look after it, my mind wandered to another Great Greenwich Loss, The Gipsy Moth IV. I started wondering what had happened to her...

She was, of course, the yacht in which Francis Chichester sailed solo around the world.
Chichester actually started out as an aviator - and the first Gipsy Moth was actually a plane.

He became fascinated by the old Australian wool clippers of the Victorian age, and decided he wanted to do the same route - but more quickly. All this in spite of the small inconvenience of having been diagnosed with cancer in 1958. Allegedly, his wife refused to let surgeons remove one of his lungs and nursed him back to health herself. Miracles do happen...

He had Gipsy Moth IV specially built and in 1966 he took just 106 days to do the fastest round-world trip in a small boat and achieve the first true solo cicumnavigation.

This was, for an age already bejewelled with great exploration, an amazing achievement. Her Majesty was delighted and she knighted Chichester at Greenwich on the same spot and with the same sword that had been used to knight another Maritime hero called Francis, by another Queen Elizabeth, Sir Francis Drake, who'd also been sailing the seven seas in a ship not much bigger than Chichester's, The Golden Hind.

The ship was dry-docked in Greenwich, next to the Cutty Sark, and here's where the shame begins. We let her die. She just rotted away and none of us noticed. Eventually she was closed to the public and we started to not even really notice her.

She was bought by eccentric millionaire (and heir to the MFI fortune) Paul Lister for £ 1 and a gin & tonic. He renovated her and she once again began to sail the seven seas - this time with a youth crew.

I had heard she ran into trouble last May and needed to be rescued, so I have just checked out the website.

I am happy to report that she's still on the water - and if you're into maritime logs, you can check it out at:

www.gipsymoth.org

Paul Lister, BTW, is rather better known for his desire to populate his Highland hunting lodge with the original bears and wolves that would have roamed Scotland. The authorities are, perhaps understandably, less keen but personally I think it would be a great idea.

Henry Moore Statue update

Somebody (M32, I seem to remember) wanted to know what had happened to the Henry Moore Statue Knife-Edge in Greenwich Park.

I emailed the Friends of Greenwich Park - then stupidly failed to notice the reply in my in-box which arrived a few days ago.

They say

"Knife Edge has gone on loan to Kew Gardens for a year. It is then likely to be returned to the Henry Moore Foundation. It has been on loan since its installation in 1976 but the Foundation is concerned that it could bedamaged (there is already graffiti on the base)."

So there you have it. We can't be trusted to look after stuff, so it's taken away from us. It happened to the Gypsy Moth, we nearly lost the Cutty Sark, and now we're losing Henry Moore. Tut.

BTW the Friends website is:

www.friendsofgreenwichpark.org.uk

and I'm sure thye're still taking members...

The Phantom is listening...

Eagle-eyed readers of this blog will notice a new (v. discreet) feature down the right hand side under my intro. It's two contact buttons that my lovely Phantom Web Host has given me and which mean that I am much more easily contacted (but still remaining anonymous - you know the reasons...)

The first is an Ask the Phantom button - if I don't know the answer, you can bet your boots someone here will - send me your queries, I'll do my best to answer them - then throw them out to the floor for others to chip-in.

The second is my Phantom Tip-offs button. Found out some dirty gossip (or clean, I don't care) that we should know about or a new place that needs reviewing? Let me know!

I look forward to hearing from you...

Popcorn

Last night I revisited my past. Somewhere I had not set foot since the Picturehouse opened 18 months ago. Of course the soulless industrial cylinder that calls itself a cinema wasn't called the Odeon then, it was Filmworks, but in every other respect this place hasn't changed one iota. It's still a garish wind tunnel of a building designed by someone who knew they would never actually have to sit in it.

Everything I moaned about then is true now - the non-allocated, suspiciously-stained seats, the miserable ticket-buying area, the dismal waiting area, the worse free-for-all when gangs of spotty teenagers clutching tickets all descend at once on other spotty teenagers trying to tear tickets - you know the score - we've all been there. Outside, it's even worse - dreary chain restaurants - though in a small triumph McDonalds closed recently - surely a first for the mighty empire.

Which is why, in theory, Popcorn, the latest film "set" in Greenwich (don't get excited - it could be any multiplex in the Western World) should have worked. It was almost entirely filmed in Greenwich Filmworks (though a continuity mistake in the first few moments shows it as both Filmworks and the fictional "Moovieworld")and actually starring sundry spotty teenage actors, one or two of whom I suspect I should have heard of.

Looking at the others sitting in Screen 4, I realised we were the only actual punters. I was clearly surrounded by the movie makers themselves. I began to whether the crew had managed to annoy the cinema staff when we had a spot of bother getting anyone to be the slightest bit interested in our screen and we didn't get any adverts at all - a first for the Odeon, surely.

It's a mediocre film - I would rather think so even for the target audience unless they were virtually illiterate. A rom-com about the people who work in a multiplex, the "comedy" relied almost entirely on saying rude words and showing various topless birds, and the action was slow. The acting was, on the whole, wooden, though I couldn't work out whether this was due to the actors themselves or the bog-awful script which obviously thinks it is a lot cleverer than it is.


There is a knowingness about this film which leaves a bad taste in the mouth. A by-the-numbers romance playing on the concept of movie cliche, it seems to both wink at the viewer and sneer at them at the same time. There was no noticeable respect for the target audience - 14 year-old boys, I would say from the lesbians and scatological humour - the writers had clearly thought of them in stereotypical terms rather than as individuals who made up a group.

The casting is suspiciously young - like some Children's Film Foundation project - and while it can just about get away with it - after all the staff at the Odeon are hardly out of nappies themselves - it needed the gravitas of age to fill roles such as that of the projectionist Zak, who did what he could with a duff part, but who was basically just too young. Some of the other acting was just plain bad.

The only person who really came out of this well was the ex-soap star, Jack Ryder. I vaguely remember him as some airhead who got himself photographed by the paparazzi coming out of Annabel's with a dolly bird on each arm, so it was a revelation to see him play the awkward, gawky lead with such conviction and sympathy. I really believed this guy was rubbish with girls and warmed to him because he injected some of himself into his character - which can't have been easy under the circumstances.

The film-within-a-film sequences were contrived and, as far as I can see, merely included to add some cheap gags, albeit on two levels - tits-&-ass for the teenagers, knowing winks to the film makers' mates. I did like the graphic novel/photo-love story influences - but would have liked to have seen it followed through.

Robert Rodriguez made El Mariachi on a budget of $7,000. He used almost entirely non-actors, toy guns and office chairs and wheelchairs instead of proper equipment. His film doesn't always stay in focus, sync or even sometimes make sense. But that guy managed to put creativity on the screen instead of cash. He got performances out of his actors, made art out of adversity. He put his very soul up there. Here there is a gaping void in the soul department. I don't know what the budget was, but it must have been more than $7,000 - if it wasn't, I take it all back and the director is some kind of god.

After endless credits including the unfunniest outtakes ever - people forgettting lines does not humour make - the film ended (to much applause from the audience) and we stumbled out in the dark to no music or any help from the staff, the Forgotten Audience. I could only assume that either the Odeon staff is even worse than I remember - or that the crew had really pissed off the poor buggers who work there whilst filming.

We crept out virtually unnoticed by the film makers. I'll be back in the Picturehouse tonight...

Note to later edition: If by some bizarre chance, you fancy actually seeing Popcorn you'll have to travel It didn't last the weekend...

Maybe Blockbuster in a month's time?

The Great Molasses Flood

Do you know how many people died in the Boston Massacre?

Four.

No, Really.

There were actually more fatalities in the Great Molasses Disaster of 1919 where 21 Bostonians and several horses came to a sticky end in waist-deep treacle when a 2,300,000 US gallon tank collapsed and filled the streets with a gooey black slick.

Why am I talking about this? Because Greenwich actually had her own Molasses Flood in the early part of the last century. I can't be sure when because sources seem to be at odds with each other, but since I don't want a schlep up to Colindale to search through the newspapers of the time, I choose to believe the splendid Mary Mills in her delightful picture book "Greenwich and Woolwich at Work."

I said I'd gradually talk about the efficacy of various Greenwich Books and this is an excellent start. The pictures are all old photos from various sources, but the commentary is by Mary and is succinct, knowledgeable and very readable. And of course, her being a long-term resident of the area, some of the more recent pics have personal resonance for her.

So many books of this kind are dry monographs for enthusiasts only. This one, being mainly pictures, is a real light, pleasurable read. If you want more on any particular subject, then joining the Greenwich Industrial History Society (or cribbing from their excellent website) will help (unless you're planning on doing a PhD - in which case, get studying now...)

But back to the molasses.

Those rotten smells you get around Blackwall Tunnel are nothing new. They may have changed (I have a theory that the factories there now don't actually produce anything any more - they just create worse and worse smells in the hope that Anschutz will eventually pay them to go away) but back in the early part of the 20th Century they were just as putrid.

The culprit then was Molassine, a company that made animal feed. Its dog food was particularly popular - you can still find advertising postcards and tins on ebay from time to time. It also made horse and cattle feed and only eventually died in 1981. There's an excellent account of the company on the GIHS website by John Needs

http://gihs.gold.ac.uk/gihs10.html#molassine

so I won't go on about it here, but in Mary's book (just inside the front cover) there's a great picture of people milling around Blackwall Lane, which actually looks like a river as the sticky goo runs down from the factory on the Peninsula. She dates it as being in the 1920s. John Needs quotes someone (unnamed) as describing it making "its ponderous but inexorable way into the neighbouring Tunnel Avenue," which frankly I can't top.

As with the Great Molasses Disaster of Boston, the tank had collapsed, though unlike the American incident, the only casualties were the Greenwich tramlines which got so badly gommed-up that the service was severely interrupted.

"Treacle on the Tracks" - sounds like a modern-day British Rail excuse, doesn't it...

The picture is fantastic - certainly people seem to be enjoying the diversion rather than panicking at the sight - though a woman in an apron does look as though she is about to put her foot right in it.

"Greenwich & Woolwich at Work" by Mary Mills is published by Sutton.

World Heritage Site protection?

An article by David Hencke in the Guardian today (thank you, M, for pointing this out) has revealed that Tessa Jowell is to announce "buffer zones" around World Heritage sites which will prevent "unsightly" skyscrapers and dodgy home improvements such as stone-cladding or satellite dishes.

This is certainly an interesting development. I suspect it was brought in to save the Government the embarrassment of having the Tower of London put on the "World Heritage Sites in Danger" blacklist - something that would be a first in the developed world - but it will apply to all World Heritage Sites - including Greenwich.

It will apparently give more power to public inquiries to block insensitive developments, which is not going to please a certain South Bank incumbent, one Ken Livingstone.

Ken's just been given extra powers to force local authorities to build high-rise blocks - even against their own wishes - and let's face it, he has never been afraid to step into any kind of brawl.

I expect to see these two rhinos lock horns very soon. I fear that unless the White Paper is written very carefully, it will be full of loopholes. Two immediate contenders spring to mind.

One would be the possiblility of building "sightly" skyscrapers - buildings that have putative architectural "merit." The other - far more likely to be exploited - would be to build the unsightly skyscrapers just outside the buffer zone. What I want to know is how big this buffer zone is going to be - Would Lovell's Wharf be far enough away not to count? The Old Hospital site? Is it ultimately just going to mean that anyone who doesn't come into the immediate area of outstanding heritage just gets blighted with even worse and more dense development than we might otherwise have expected?

Let's watch this one...

http://politics.guardian.co.uk/green/story/0,,2026582,00.html

Cafe Massala

44, Woolwich Rd

Cafe Massala used to be Lahore Spice until very recently. It boasted an "award-winning" chef - though exactly what the award was was never actually expounded upon. "Best Chef in the Lahore Spice Kitchen," perhaps?

As regular readers of this blog will know, we have a 'control menu' that we always order (classified information, naturally, so that we can remain secret spooky spies, but including most of the major subcontinental food groups...)

Lahore Spice was ok - nothing special but nothing terrible. The food arrived reasonably quickly and was standard price. The rice was never stale (an immediate disqualification in my book) and the food edible but nothing fabulous.

We moved on in our quest for curry perfection, but recently returned, when a new flyer, suspicously like the old one but with a new name, dropped onto our doormat. It said it was being refurbished, so we thought we'd check it out. The menu appeared to be exactly the same but there was no mention of the award-winning chef.

The shop now has a few (rather unexciting it has to be said) tables and chairs and the leaflet says "an Arabian atmosphere" though I didn't really get much of that - it seems a little - well, bare - for a decorating style so famously louche. There is one water-pipe on a shelf and the walls are painted a sort of orangey-terracotta-ish colour, but there are no carpets and no camels (and what's a curry house without a camel, I ask you...) I was rather puzzled by the decision to do "Arabian" when the food remains British Curry in style, but hey - this is ostensibly a takeaway, not a restaurant, so it's the food that counts.

We decided to give it a try anyway. And I have to say I'm quite impressed. The food took a reasonably long time to arrive, but it was well-cooked and not the usual lurid colours you get from some curries. A second time when I collected it myself the guy was chatty and the armchairs non-grotty.

The ingredients are supposed to be fresh and natural. I could certainly recognise many of the ingredients as opposed to some of the general mushes you sometimes get. They claim the "lowest fat content possible" - though that's frankly a rather vague statement in my book. That could mean anything.

In the accompanying letter, the "award-winning chef" re-appeared, though still with no mention of which award it is. But they're doing special offers just now with free side dishes so it's worth asking about offers. They have high hopes for the future, promising sampling sessions and cookery demonstrations. I'll watch with interest. In the meanwhile I would number this as one of the better takeaway curries in Greenwich, though with the caveat that this is Greenwich, not Southall or Tooting...

The things your Phantom does for you, eh. I'm going to be the size of a house by the time I've checked out all these takeaway flyers that keep being shoved through the door. It's a tough job - but somebody's got to do it.

Olivers - update

Iain Hatt has kindly sent me this as an update to the news that Greenwich Inc is forcing Oliver's to install soundproofing after moving into the ex-antique shop upstairs:

"Olivier is dealing with this by having soundproofing installed on 11-12 March. One of the bands who plays at his bar has members who are in the soundproofing business so he's got a good deal and from what he's explained to me they are going to be able to do a good job. Not that it will stop his nibs upstairs complaining again at some point no doubt. Sadly I don't think this will be the end of it."

So. Hopefully that will suffice - but I agree with Iain. I don't think this is the last we'll hear of this. Olivers is the only part of the Spread Eagle that Greenwich Inc don't control. They can't be too happy about that...

The Sandwich House

Next door to Peter de Wits, The Sandwich House is an ok snack bar selling teas, coffees cakes and buns as well as the odd savoury snack. I can't say the cakes taste as nice as they look (to be honest they're pretty bog-standard) but it's really not bad as a quick snack venue. You can get the usual fried stuff and sandwiches and there are definitely worse snack bars in the centre of town (albeit there are also better ones.) In the summer, there are tables and chairs in the tiny yard at the back, though unlike their next door neighbours, they haven't made much (read "any") effort to render it particularly "cute."

HFH Designs

Jewellery Artists

Greenwich Village Market Boutique, Opposite Ibis Hotel

I had the privilege of meeting these two characters yesterday while I was walking around the scruffy bit of Greenwich Market in between King William's Passage and the railway line.

I don't normally find bead jewellery that exciting. What it has always boiled down to for me is something that anyone could do if they visited the bead shop and bought a few bits and bobs to thread on a bit of string. To me most bead jewellery you see in markets is uninspiring to say the least. So I almost walked past this stall.

This exuberant pair go several steps further. There are one or two 'off-day' pieces - beads on a string - but most of it is genuine flights of fancy with things they have found around them. Bursts of colour - or non-colour - the clear stuff is as wonderful as the coloured - check out the necklace made of shattered crystal - light the tiny boutique, encouraging you to delve deeper into the stall.

What's more, they clearly adore what they do. I stood chatting for ages about where they go to source their materials and how they come up with ideas. Harma, coolly dressed like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face, took me round the basic pieces before Herve, a classic French beatnik with tufty beard, glasses, scarf and beret, got very excited telling me all about his new bead-making machine, which he has the grace, not to mention charm, to admit he hasn't quite mastered yet

"They come out peanut-shaped at the moment, but they're getting rounder all the time," he says with an emotional catch in his voice. His workshop is in Deptford, and he says that once he's mastered it he will start doing open days to demonstrate his new-found technique. They'll be doing ordinary Open Studio days from April.

The work is exquisite - I still can't quite work out how they thread the beads to create thick ropes of materials I've never seen before. Harma showed me some gold rings Herve has been experimenting with - whopping great lumps of bling to gladden a Puff Daddy heart - though personally I'd wear something as eye-catching as that singly with a LOT of black. Harma held it up against her black turtleneck and it looked amazing.

The stall is on the left as you walk in from the Crooms Hill end - about 20 metres from the road. Go sooner rather than later as everything is on sale at the moment - Herve has just got back from Venice with a bunch of new beads and, eager to get going, is selling off old stock to make room for his new ideas. It's not absolutely dirt cheap (and nor should it be - this is art) - but very reasonable for an individual original piece. The pair are off to the Far East in search of inspiration soon, so go now. Oh - and don't miss the cherub on a spring.

If you want to be included on the mailing list for Open Studio days, send an email to

hfhdesigns@yahoo.co.uk

This is just the sort of stall I fear for when the market goes.

The Ghostly Hand & The Creepy Foot

James Thornhill, who I will write about in detail another time, was paid bugger-all to decorate his mate Christopher Wren's Painted Hall (which I will also come onto at a later date.) He spent nineteen years being paid between £ 1 and £ 3 per square yard to lie on his back/ climb scaffolding/ crawl about on his hands and knees painting the various kings and queens who came and went in the duration of his massive project. He'd been saddled with "The Triumph of Peace And Liberty Over Tyranny," "Apollo," "The Four Seasons," "The Signs of the Zodiac," lists of benefactors, ships, cupids, sundry bigwigs; you name it, he painted it. He felt he needed his fun.

He painted himself - rather bigger than one or two of his patrons, I note, a grizzled old pensioner of 96 who was still being regularly had up before the beak for drunkenness, debauchery, profanity and bringing ladies of ill-repute into the hospital, depicting him as the sage and venerable 'Winter' - and, my favourite, reputedly taking King George I at his word, by painting George's estranged wife literally under the carpet.

Queen Sophia had originally got herself in trouble back in Germany, where after being forced to marry her first cousin, reviled by the court and hated by her in-laws, she had allegedly (and frankly understandably)fallen into the arms of the dashingly-titled Swedish Count Philip Christoph Von Konigsmarck. He got himself killed and thrown into a river under extremely dubious circumstances for the pleasure; she merely got put in gaol for the rest of her life.

But what's sauce for the goose is rarely sauce for the gander too. When George added England to his list of realms, he came over (somewhat reluctantly - he didn't like Britain and never learned to speak English) with a pair of mistresses, one very thin; the other rather fat. The British people, more shocked by his taste than his morals, nicknamed them The Maypole and The Elephant.

Thornhill, who by this time was getting a bit fed up with whitewashing out old monarchs and painting in the new models, asked King George if he wanted his wife in the picture. George, I understand, said that the artist could paint his wife under the carpet for all he cared.

Go to the back of Painted Hall and look at the picture of the King and his family. About halfway along you will see the ghostly image of a hand sticking out from the rug as Sophia refuses to be literally swept under the carpet of History...


There is another oddity about this particular part of the mural. Check out the king's foot and where it's pointing. Now move position and look at it again. Try the same thing once more. Now. I've heard of eyes that follow you around the room...

The Alamo

It's not Mexican...It's Texican!

The catchy tagline for the eaterie that sprang up overnight last weekend pretty much describes its attitude to food. It replaced the Organic Bar and Kitchen opposite the Picturehouse which had started out so promising but rapidly deteriorated to mediocrity.

We yawned when we saw it - that makes four Tex-mex cafes in Greenwich Town centre now, when really, unless you're in the Stockyards at Fort Worth, the most anyone needs is one - but in the interests of fairness we determined to visit so that I could report back.

I confess I rather like tex-mex food - it's uncomplicated and brassy yet full of flavour - I didn't really think much could go wrong.

It didn't take much more than swaggering through the solid plywood "saloon doors" (which could have someone's eye out if they're not careful) that The Alamo is going for the kitsch vote. It had been done out in 'jolly Mexican' fashion - blankets and guitars on the wall, dodgy naive-style murals of cowboys and gunfighters and a 'tiled roof' over the bar. Along the window a row of sundry sombreros and jokeshop cowboy hats waited patiently on hooks like a comedy bunch of 'Mexicans' on siesta.

The place was quite full - mainly of people like us - plainly checking out the joint. Most of them grimly wore their sombreros, desperately trying to have fun in that oddly eccentric way that only sober English people can. La Vida Loca blared out from the sound system.

I am a student of kitsch - I love it with a passion, so I am very sad to say that this is not kitsch - or not knowingly so at least. It is only so in a secondary sense - in that it's any kind of art that's missed its mark. This is far too self-conscious - and frankly is just downright naff. This is trying too hard with neither enough cash - nor love - invested.

It was "fiesta time" (see my review of Babur a few days ago to see festivals being done well) which meant that there was some Corona Beer bunting and cocktails were £ 2.95 to "senoritas."

The albeit fun-ly dressed waitresses and the MD, dressed as a Mexican cowboy (rather well, I have to admit,) were at least friendly - if a little daffy - but I can forgive daffiness on the opening of a new restauarant. My companions tried to order various beers but the only one that seemed to be available was the heavily-promoted Corona. I decided to test out a Marguerita.

It was in chatting to the staff that the mists began to clear as to why this transformation had happened so fast. This has the same owners as the previous organic cafe. They had apparently started out with good intentions, but had gradually reduced the organic content (and, I can assure you, the quality) to a mere 50%. Sadly the custom had reduced by rather more.

I had always been slightly suspicious of the organic part of the previous restaurant (in my original review I had been surprised on its opening how little they had seemed to know about the ingredients) and now it was clear - it hadn't been a passion - merely something they thought would make money.

And The Alamo is the latest idea.

The Corona was fine (naturally - though sadly without the frozen glasses you actually get in Texas) but my Marguerita was so watery that it was difficult to tell quite what it should have been. The salt around the edge was authentic enough and the time it took to arrive implied that it had been freshly made - but the taste implied a mix.

I have mentioned I like tex-mex food, so I was still hopeful of a good meal. I confess to a sneaking enjoyment of the music - very much "party latino," so was happy to wait. We estimated an hour's wait - but it came in more like 20 minutes - not bad for a minute kitchen which, I suspect is part of the reason why this restaurant has historically had problems.

The blackened ribs lived up to their name - literally falling off the bone, juicy and smothered in a fruity, tangy sauce. An excellent choice. The rest wasn't nearly so good. Packet nachos and, and, I quote, "the world's most boring chili." It was clearly cheap mince and "no noticeable chili flavour" - much as my Marguerita had had no noticeable alcohol.

The vegetable fajitas arrived, sizzling on authentic griddles and my heart rose. They were fresh vegetables and looked good. But these had merely been fried in oil and they too had no real flavour. The guacamole was insipid and the rest of the accompaniments bland.

Having said that, there was plenty of it and enjoyable enough if you weren't looking for authentic tex-mex cuisine. My companion, after several more attempts at finding a beer on the menu that wasn't Corona, managed to secure what I suspect was the only bottle of San Miguel in the joint. I didn't want to repeat my Marguerita experience and, curiously enough, was unmoved at the thought of the other cocktails and line-'em-up shooters - which all seemed to involve Baileys and included the nausea-inducing "Blow Job" (subtle, eh,) consisting of Baileys, Banana Liqueur and cream. Let's not even go there.

The lights went out and Anita O'Day's "The Peanut Vendor" was cut off in mid-yodel. A be-candelled cake was brought out and we were all expected to sing to the embarrassed birthday girl.

And that was when it hit me. This restaurant isn't meant for diners. This is aimed at the party market - and, if the place is actually big enough (a big "if,") it should do well at this. When you're out for an office party, hen night or group outing, no one actually tastes the food as long as the alcohol keeps coming. There are special deals for group bookings which involve a special (read "cheap") menu and a free crate of, ahem, Corona. THIS is where they'll make their cash - not in trying to appeal to anyone who's actually going to take any notice of what they're eating.

The ladies was out of order.