Chew and Chow

Peter asks:

This is a little way off your Greenwich patrol, but do you know anything about recent changes at Chew and Chow ?

Chew and Chow has been a small licensed Spanish cafe in Charlton Church Lane, just up the hill from Charlton station, serving simple but good quality food for the last 10 years or so. The interior and furniture define basic, but its always been a treat to have a neighbourhood cafe providing authentic Spanish fare using excellent ingredients. Charlton Church Lane probably isn't the best location for an enterprise of this type and in recent years the cafe scaled down to weekend only opening.

We went there for lunch today first the first time for a few months. The menu still offer the same tapas dishes and salads as before, but there is also a "Thai Tapas" menu. The Spanish breakfasts have gone from the menu, as have the omelettes and filled rolls, but there is a new short listing of Thai curries on the menu. We ordered our favourites from the tapas menu and the quality of ingredients and cooking was pretty much the same as before.


So my questions are;

Has anyone else eaten there since these changes and what was their experience ?

What's the storey behind the changes ? Is it now a partnership between the previous and new operators, or has the previous owner sold on the business and recepies ? And if so has the previous owner set up somewhere else locally that would be worth knowing about ?

Peter, I don't know this place, but it sounds intriguing. I will review it asap and find out what I can...

In the meanwhile, I bet someone else here has tried this place and can give you an opinion...

The Dead of Summer

Camilla Way, Harper Collins

Book Two in my Great Greenwich Fiction Readathon, The Dead of Summer is the most recent novel set here - it's only just out. I read an interview with Camilla Way in The Guide (the only local mag I have much time for) and thought she looked interesting. From this, her debut novel, I'd say she probably is.

Set in the long, hot summer of 1986, The Dead of Summer is the story of three misfit pre-teenagers - the mercurial, dangerous, Kyle and his loyal followers, fat, slow Dennis, and "skint paki" Anita, through whose eyes the story unfolds. Right at the beginning, where, some years later, Anita is recounting the story to her doctor, we realise that something went very badly wrong that summer "There were four of us, now there's only one." We know that some terrible event will happen before the end of the book, but I challenge anyone, even up to the last chapter, to work out what that event will be.

There is a heavy sense of foreboding through the heat and the dry sunshine of Greenwich Park, the chlorine stench of The Arches swimming pool, the steep slog of Point Hill - even on the bus from Brockley (where the kids actually live.) As we follow the unstable Kyle and his two cohorts through the park, looking for the tunnels under the hills (yes - you know the rule - if there's a book set in Greenwich it MUST include a reference to the tunnels under Greenwich Park...) we begin to feel that not everything is right or even particularly wholesome in any of the children's lives.

There are a couple of really chilling moments, though I'm not going to give you any spoilers here. But in a Wasp-Factory-esque, Curious Incident of the Dog-ish sort of way, expect not to get what's going on until it's far, far too late.

In the Guide interview, Camilla Way says she was a magazine sub-editor, which to some extent explains why this book keeps its taut, flat, emotionless tone throughout - she is the person that cuts the fat out of other people's writing, so presumably she's quite good at editing-out her own flabby material, sticking to the story in hand (Ironically, I did notice at least one typo in the interview. Tut, Guide subs - you'll never get a book published now...)

This is not a long read. But The Dead of Summer's bitter taste lingers long after the last page...

The Harvest of Heads

Ok, so if you've been paying attention (sit up straight at the back, there!) I was talking about Duke Humphrey's Tower recently - you know - the one that stood where the Observatory is today.

If you remember, Our Humph was a hero of Agincourt, who did very nicely, thank you, building palaces left, right and centre, until a new king came to the throne. Humph and his wife were accused of dabbling in The Black Arts against nutty King Henry VI and everything went horribly wrong. Humph died in mysterious circumstances and his wife was convicted of sorcery. They got off lightly - his followers were hanged, drawn and quartered.

Right, so now we're up to speed...

Not everyone was delighted by this, and one Jack Cade (his real name, John Mortimer, just didn't have that swashbuckling feel to it...) led a rebellion - The Men of Kent - against the king. It's uncertain how interested Cade actually was in the issues but he was an adventurer who was looking for an excuse to swagger around in a red outfit, make speeches and lead an army of men into the history books. All togged-up in his scarlet clothing, he led his motley crew (some accounts say 46,000 of them) onto Blackheath and camped there in 1450 - not dissimilar in many ways to the Wat Tyler's Peasants Revolt 70 years beforehand.

Shakespeare doesn't think much of The Men of Kent - he describes them as "the filth and scum of Kent, mark'd for the gallows" - though of course you do have to remember which side of Shakey's bread was buttered a hundred-odd years later.

It does seem that Cade himself was a bit of a meathead, into dressing up in his fancy clobber, beheading people and causing general terror everywhere he went (presumably if he were alive today he'd be found glassing someone outside the Meantime Nightclub on a Friday night) but not all his followers were rabble - there were lots of respectable men who had real grievances. Many of them were from Greenwich, loyal friends and servants of Duke Humphrey who were convinced he'd been murdered.

It all got really nasty when Cade killed the leader of the King's party, then led the gang into London itself, beheading and destroying as they went. The Lord Treasurer got his head chopped off and Cade's mob destroyed sundry property documents, declaring themselves for universal equality - pretty radical stuff for the fifteenth century. Cade struck the London Stone and declared himself Lord of the City.

It didn't last of course. The king brought out the army and, offered a pardon of sorts (they were forced to beg for it on their hands and knees wearing nothing but their shirts) many of rebels backed down. Some of them were still executed but pardoned in death and allowed to be buried. The repercussions rippled through Kent with executions all the way to Rochester, where nine men were beheaded.It became known as the Harvest of Heads. Heaven Only knows how many people were decapitated on both sides by the time it all started to calm down.

Cade was hunted down and hanged, drawn and quartered, bits and bobs of him brought back to Blackheath to go on general display. It's not clear which bits and bobs of him we got, but presumably they flapped around in the wind on the bleak heath as a warning to anyone else who fancied their chances. It didn't work - two years later, the Duke of York amassed an army there as The Wars of the Roses really began in earnest.

Cade's always been remembered as a bit of a romantic hero, however thuggish he might really have been. There's a road named after him - Cade Road - and Blackheath Cavern, underneath Point Hill and which I will talk about another day, is also known as Jack Cade's Cavern.

There's a good article about Jack Cade's rebellion at:

http://www.fantompowa.net/Flame/jack_cade_1450.html

Gourmet Burger Kitchen

45 Greenwich Church St, SE10

I must be getting super-professional. I actually remembered a notebook for this one AND made notes. Whatever next, eh...

Many people will be finding it rather hard to forgive the Gourmet Burger Kitchen chain for buying-out the much-loved traditional Goddards Pie Shop, and I confess that I went in with a slight grump about me. "Ok, Gourmet Burger Kitchen," I thought, "show me what you've got..."

It's not Goddards. Gone are the days when you could scoff pie, mash & liquor, guzzle a Tizer, finish it all off with a cherry pie and still have change from a ha'penny. The burgers here will set you back the best part of eight quid a piece. But at least they are tall enough to rival Canary Wharf...

If you've eaten at any of the other GBKs then you'll know the drill, but for anyone who hasn't, here goes...

It's all painted very tastefully in discreet greeny-grey -'olde-worlde'-yet-somehow-youthful-and-thrusting fashion. They've retained Goddards many-paned windows and the lighting is so discreet from the outside that approaching it we weren't actually sure whether it was open yet.

Inside it's all white -painted, leaving the odd tasteful bare beam, with inoffensive colour photos of nothing-in-particular downstairs, inoffensive black &; white photos of 1950s nothing-in-particular upstairs. The floors are the ubiquitous laminate.

It's all order-at-the-bar, but they weren't busy so a terribly sweet waitress who spoke virtually no English at all offered to take our orders.

There's a large selection of good-quality burgers to be had - very little else - but there are vegetarian options which are interesting (no veggie-burgers, though, just giant portabella mushrooms and goats-cheesy options.) They arrive stacked so high - I'm not exaggerating when I say they're a good 17/18cm - that they have to be staked through the middle with a wooden skewer.

We stupidly ordered chips as well (nice enough, and of the fat variety, but rather pale and insipid in comparison to, say, those at The Hill) but ended up being far too full to manage them too. I think you'd need to have a huge appetite to manage chips AND a burger here.

The chilli burger isn't hot - it's more of the variety that comes with chilli salsa. It was good juicy (organic) steak and came with enough tangy relishes and extras to be a really tasty, satisfying meal for £ 6.65.

The aubergine and goats cheese one seemed a bit overblown to me. The goats cheese was rolled in breadcrumbs, which although giving it a satisfying crunch, also gave it an added flavour and richness that somewhat overwhelmed the rest of the ingredients. Nonetheless it was tasty, filling and enjoyable. It should be at £ 7.20...

The standard is generally high, so if the prices aren't quite justified, you do feel you're a step up from Burger King. There's a tiny bar upstairs, but it's really only to service the restaurant - you wouldn't go there for a drink (the beer, btw, is £ 2.75 a bottle.) The various food options are on a blackboard, though without their prices which is either absent-minded or sneaky since you really do need to be aware before you order that you are Not In McDonalds Now. No 99p cheeseburgers here. It's pricey, but you do get a lot of burger for your money. It's clean, pleasant and bright.

Two caveats.

1. The claim that the juices are 'freshly-squeezed' is a lie.

2. Don't be duped into ordering extra sauces. Our burgers came with plenty of interesting relishes and there are those great ketchup bottles in the shape of tomatoes on the tables. They don't immediately tell you those extra sauces will set you back £ 1.25 each.

I could mourn Goddards forever. Or I could just get on with my life. GBK, although a chain, is a more or less welcome addition to the Greenwich roll of eateries for me.

Quandary

Here's a poser for you.

Last night I was walking past the power station towards the Royal Naval College, when a woman streaked past me, running as though her life depended on it. A microsecond later a scary-looking burly bloke ran past, in hot pursuit. I turned to watch, as I thought she might be in trouble.

About 25 metres up the road he caught her and started beating her up. It was clearly 'a domestic.'

My question is this. What do you think I should have done next?

Wade in and risk getting a beating myself? It was still light, but in a side street, pretty much deserted and the bloke was a real nastylooking type.

Call the police - who might not get there until it had all finished, but might at least prevent it happening again or even press charges?

Taken no action - after all - it was none of my business - it was between them and judging from the look of her it wasn't the first time it had happened?

I'll tell you what I actually did (or didn't do) in a couple of days. In the meanwhile, opinions, please...

John Roan School

Mr Snnib asks:

Is anyone as concerned as I that our only secondary school within walking distance of the Cutty Sark is to be relocated to thepeninsular? First our hospital and now our secondary school… what nextthe Fire Brigade and Police!Further details are available at

http://www.johnroancampaign.com/

The Police are going - Westcombe Park Police Station is already on its way out.

Mark Steel

Greenwich Theatre

Mark Steel is probably my favourite contemporary comic. In these days of social homogeneity; a climate where apathy rules over any kind of satire, Mark Steel dares to be angry - and to channel that anger into a humour that is both accessible and human.

It's profoundly unhip to be Marxist these days, yet somehow Steel manages to carry it off in a way that's almost impossible to dislike. He's been a member of the Socialist Workers Party for-virtually-ever which should turn the kind of audiences that were at Greenwich Theatre last night right off (fewer students than I expected; rather more suits - and ties - than he had expected.) But his humour isn't the kind of in-yer-face-kill-the-bastards violent variety. This guy really wants to understand the world we live in today where, as he pointed out, even the leader of the British Army is politically left of Tony Blair.

What makes his material work, even for people who don't necessarily agree with him, is his unique way of combining his modern stuff with a real in-depth knowledge of historical events.

Last night was loosely (very loosely) based around The French Revolution, and resembled closely his wonderful Mark Steel Lecture series. The OU took quite a leap of faith getting him to present these - but they are a tour-de-force - light years away from beardy blokes in sandals and jazzy shirts standing in front of graphs. The lectures are hardly PhD level, but contain the enthusiasm and spark that can hook a potential scholar - a fantastic introduction to the subject.

He manages to draw out the quirky stuff, the things that make the people involved human beings rather than Historical Figures, and then, with a final flourish, create modern parallels which make you think.

I don't get hatred from Mark Steel. He wants to understand the people who do things he disagrees with, and if he's angry, it's with systems, not individuals. He adores human frailty and gets great fun from finding the wonderfully contradictory facets of human nature. He was on (almost) home territory in Greenwich (he's from Swanley, which he admits gets a cheap laugh every time from London audiences.) He was clearly using well-honed material throughout, and the Sarf London gags, I suspect, were also not on their first outing, but who cares when it's so confidently delivered? Lots of jokes about antique markets and Maze Hill, these age-buffed Greenwich gags rubbed shoulders effortlessly with off-the-cuff things that came to him on the spot. That kind of delivery only comes from years on the coalface of comedy.

There's comedy on all week at Greenwich Theatre, but I can't see anything eclipsing Mark Steel's amiable Angry Man. Let me know if you see anyone else...

The Hill

Royal Hill, SE10

I've heard and read very different opinions and reviews of this pub. I rather wonder whether those who don't like it miss the old Barley Mow, (not that I ever went in it - it didn't really appeal to me. Presumably, if it closed, it didn't appeal to anyone else either.) What is it, by the way, landlords don't like about pubs called The Barley Mow? Gordon Ramsay's new place, The Narrow, used to be The Barley Mow, too. Maybe there will be a backlash - like, thank God, there seems to be with pubs called stupid names in the 80s and 90s reverting to their original titles - witness The Frog & Radiator's 'new' name The Ship & Billet.

But I digress (again...) Back to The Hill.

Personally - I like it. It's not a drinker's boozer, really, better described as a gastropub. It does Adnams Bitter but not much else other than the usual lagers. Sometimes the waiters forget to mention the bitter, so if you don't order at the bar, then at least go there in case there's anything else that's been forgotten.

Outside it's been tarted up with white paint, the Victorian tiles highlit rather nicely. Inside, it's all stripped floorboards, pale walls and candles - which I don't dislike - and the main eating area is up a couple of steps at the back, with a small dividing wall containing an old stained glass window. Outside there's a little garden with the omnipresent decking - not wildly exciting, but then so many pub gardens aren't. I wish more of these places would put a bit of effort into making their gardens as nice as their interiors.

The food has always been good when I've been there, though rather pricey for what it is - a salad I had the other day was definitely a bit thin on the plate.

I particularly enjoy the fish and chips - especially the rosemary chips, which I've been known to order as a standalone meal. Juicy and fat, and excellently cooked, they're definitely the best thing about The Hill.

The service varies. I've not found the waiters bolshy or inattentive, more absent-minded, really. They're usually friendly and eager to please but they can be a bit hap-hazard - they'll take ages to bring your meal, forget to mention special items (or beer) on the menu then ask three times if the food's ok.

The Hill is somewhere I return to on only an occasional basis, but always look forward to doing so.

The Spanish Galleon

Katja asks:

Does somebody know what is going on with Spanish Galleon pub in the heart of Greenwich town centre? It has been closed for few days and there is clearly some building work going on, but haven't got a clue what's happening.

The Spanish Galleon is a Shepherd Neame pub, so unless it was doing stupendously bad business (unlikely) I doubt if it's gone for good, or that Our Frank has got his paws on it. My best guess is a refit before the tourist season is truly upon us. I confess I hadn't noticed its being shut - not been to the market in the past week or so due to vast numbers of visitors (not tourists, my own visitors, I mean...) I tried to call them but to no avail. I'll send them an email and ask. That often does the trick...

Cleaners

Jo also asks:

Admittedly through a haze of guilt at my own laziness, can anyone recommend a good cleaning service? There's an ongoing battle about who our house belongs to, the spiders are winning and I need re-enforcements.

God, I'm being rubbish this morning. Sadly the cleaning in this particular household still gets done by our own fair hands so I can't recommend anyone from personal experience.

Presumably what you'd really like is "a treasure" - your old-fashioned cocker-ney char, complete with flowery turban and frilly apron, mop and bucket in hand, ready to make your house sparkle, always happy to sit down with a cup of tea for a good old gossip... oops - sorry - just went off into a little personal fantasy there....

I believe they're still around (you only have to see that ghastly "How Clean is Your House" for that - why do people choose to show off on telly the pigsties they live in through their own laziness?) but the very fact that they are treasures makes people rather jealous of theirs.

I get all sorts of hand-printed leaflets through the door from individuals wanting to clean my place (not so sure they'd still want to if they actually saw it) which could unearth someone fantastic - though the chances of references are presumably lower and it's a very personal thing, letting someone you don't really know into your house.

That leaves cleaning companies. They at least come with things like insurance and guarantees, but they do have drawbacks. You never know who you're going to get - and since turnover is high it's possible you'll never get the same person twice - and, of course, you'll pay more.

I confess I've not even considered a cleaning company since I read Nickel & Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich, where she goes undercover (albeit in The States) as a minimum-wage worker in various menial jobs and gets treated appallingly. Ok, ok, this was America, but I've become a bit suspicious anyway. Not only do some American companies treat their workers terribly but they essentially rip-off consumers too (one trick that sticks in the mind was spraying heavily-scented furniture polish into the air so that a consumer will think a room has been cleaned.)

Perhaps all British companies are perfect and I'm being unduly suspicious. Maybe people here can reassure me? And help Jo find someone to make her spiders pack their suitcases...

What's happening to Sainsburys

Jo asks:

The site next to sainsbury's just up from Elverson Road, not strictly Greenwich but nearly. Anyone know what's going on there? They've been knocking down warehouses like no-one's business but there's no sign saying what the development is, mysterious....

Hmm. At the risk of sounding horribly parochial, this isn't really my area. But it's worth an ask as I bet someone here does. My usual rule-of-thumb is that if there's something being knocked down, you will be seeing luxury flats going up very soon...

Quick note about advertising

You may notice that I've introduced a few discreet GoogleAds on the page - basically to fund a few running costs. They are computer-generated and neither I nor the advertiser get any say in what goes on, keeping me nice and free to say whatever I like.

Fear not. I do not (and never will) take direct advertising for anything I write about. If a GoogleAd for something I've written about is on the same page, it is nothing to do with me and has no effect on what I say.

I'm not allowed to ask you to click on the ads, but if your mouse was hovering and it just accidentally clicked all by itself...

London Marathon Update

I've just remembered what else I love about Marathon time. For the couple of days afterwards you see seriously nutty, fun people doing impossible stunts for charity.

I'm gutted I missed 'Indiana Jones' being 'chased' by a giant rock (see today's Standard - it's quite extraordinary - I think he's the same guy who has 'run' in a diving bell and in a suit of armour in previous years)and I think the lady who was knitting a scarf was a bit speedier but I did see a guy 'running' in slow motion this morning along Trafalgar Road as I was walking to Sainsburys. By the time I came back, he'd done about half a mile. I wanted to ask him when he thought he'd finish, but he was being mobbed by a gaggle of admiring old ladies...

Don't you just love Greenwich...

PS I've just been reading up about "Indiana Jones." His real name is Lloyd Scott and his website is here:

http://www.lloydscott.co.uk

London Marathon 2007

I always approve of free fun on the doorstep, and since it's pretty much impossible to do anything else on Marathon Sunday, I always try to get down to see people with rather more energy and determination than me punishing themselves on a hot spring day.

I've got it down to a fine art now - watching on TV until they get to PC World in Charlton and then making a nice cup of tea and wandering down to wander up and down Woolwich/Trafalgar Roads and watch the crowds as much as anything actually going on officially (though did anyone else think there were fewer crowds than usual yesterday?)

I love the gangs of brownies so excited that they cheer absolutely anything while they're waiting for the actual runners, I love the taiko drummers underneath the flyover, I love the groups of small hoodies who surreptitiously join the competitors for a while round the Old Hospital, I love the people nigh-on fighting each other to give out water to the famous runners. I especially love the macho cameramen straddling the back of motorbikes, testosterone sparking from their very fingertips as they pretend that this is the kind of thing they do every day in their cool, tough meedja lives...

I knew a few people running yesterday but they were all very dully dressed in sensible clothes so I managed to miss them all, so I just cheered all the people in stupid outfits instead. I particularly liked the pirate ship, the entire cast of Star Wars, the giant guide dog for the deaf and the baked bean. But my favourite was definitely the little lost pony up by East Greenwich Library...


Little Lost Pony is confused...



Little Lost Pony is very sad...



Little Lost Pony finds a friend...


Aaaah...

The Ashburnham Arms

Ashburnham Grove SE10

Estate Agents hyperventilate over any property that comes onto the market in "The Ashburnham Triangle" (more about that another day) - they know they can make huge profits and easy sales. The people who live there realise this, and make sure that it stays nice.

This is pretty much exactly what you might expect in an area as swanky as this - a local mid-Victorian boozer updated for what is clearly a local community who actually use it.

I guess from the wine-bar-ish decor, it's not long been refurbished - wood panelling around bottom of the walls, a fireplace stripped back to the brick, squashy armchairs at the back and a rather splendid painting of a sort of abstract map of Greenwich - The Ashburnham Arms marked with an A, of course. There's a little conservatory at the back. Frankly it could have been done a little better, in my humble opinion - it feels a bit hastily-done, but it nevertheless provides nice surroundings in which to enjoy a quiet pint.

The beers are by Shepherd Neame (allegedly the oldest brewery in the country) who are presumably trying to meet head-on other top pubs in the area such as The Union. The punters are clearly well-heeled regulars, and they clearly love it. I'm told the food is home-cooked and lovely - but whenever I've been in I've always managed to be too late (tsk...)I will make an effort to be there when the food is still on and report back.

The pub takes a bit of finding, and I suspect the locals count on this. The piano player doesn't quite stop when you walk in (though maybe they would if the place actually had a piano...) and it's not an unfriendly look you get as you walk in, but there is an-ever-so-slight raising of heads and a 'not from these parts' atmosphere. And Quiz Night is definitely not a time to be a stranger here.

Would that there were more 'local pubs for local people' of this quality. The Ashburnham knows it audience and plays to it (if sometimes to the very slight exclusivity of others.)

The Ashburnham Arms is the local meeting place for our local Morris dancers, the Blackheath Morris Men. I daresay they'll be out in force on St George's Day...

BTW the loos are quite fun - two separate entrances leading to one room divided by a low glass barrier. His & hers sections, then a glass wash basin each, next to each other by the barrier so you can spoon over the soap.

The Hound(s) of the Baskervilles

Greenwich Theatre, The Duchess Theatre

Aaaarrrrooooooo!! Sherlock Holmes Mysteries, eh. They're just like Omnibuses. You wait ages then two come along at once...

The Hound of the Baskervilles

Greenwich Theatre, SE10

Greenwich Theatre only hosts its own professional productions once a year - the panto. The rest of the year it's a touring house which means that it's only as good as the shows that visit it. Sometimes they're a misfire, but more often than not they're very good indeed.

This is a stylish production. Gauze flats which, if you sit in the centre of the auditorium look as though they are an open book (not sure whether they'd work so well from the side) serve as a screen for back-projections - generally effective, especially the great animations - it's very hard to have an horrific beast on stage that doesn't look daft, but this was actually quite a creepy figure. The other animations seemed to fit well in its Edwardian feel; that they were slightly out-of-focus wasn't a problem. I'm not convinced that the same out-of-focusness worked for the projections of an open book used the rest of the time. I spent too much time wondering whether this was deliberate so that people couldn't actually read it during the play - or just out-of-focus. When one's mind keeps wandering back to a part of the set, then there's something not quite working somewhere.

The play itself, for the most part, did work. Peter Egan's Holmes was suitably insufferable - striding and posing and saying unforgivable things to poor old Watson, to whom Phillip Franks gave some real depth. I truly felt for him; he was certainly much more than a mere sidekick in this interpretation, and the balance of the relationship between the pair was much more equal than in many versions. I really got the feeling that Holmes needed Watson, and a couple of the lines left Holmes quite vulnerable - not that that stopped him strutting around and driving everyone mad - as only Sherlock Holmes can.

The other three cast members, as is traditional, played all the other characters. All three gave sturdy performances, though it was never in any doubt who the leads were.

It's directed by the same guy who brought us The Woman in Black, and there was at least one genuinely creepy moment in it. I wasn't too sure about the way that sundry literary quotes were shoehorned into the script - they felt like they'd been added for brownie points only - and the ending was bizarre in the extreme; the last line a complete non-sequitur. On the whole, though, this is a stylish, assured production with the well-buffed polish of a show that has been touring for some time. An intriguing 'control' show, then, for

The Hound of the Baskervilles

Duchess Theatre, W1

Boy oh boy am I glad I wrote the bit above yesterday morning. I have just realised that seeing two productions of the same story on consecutive days may help basic plot details but in every other respect it's a very silly idea. A good job, then, that this version of HotB is very silly itself.

I spent the whole of the first half trying to work out why they'd cast a Spanish actor as Holmes. It's a brilliant decision, thought I, (he is extremely funny) but rather left-field. And if the Peter Egan production had only five actors, it was positively lavish in comparison to the three on stage in front of me here.

It took a little reading up at the interval to find that it's been created by an established theatre group, Peepolykus, and that regulars would know these guys from previous shows they've done together.

It's wonderfully inventive - has to be, as 'large budget' was probably not a phrase bandied about at rehearsals. But, as I was taught at college, constraints lead to creativity, and in this case seeing the nutty ways they got round what might have been problems for anyone else was part of the maniacal fun.

From the moment a splendid fellow in top hat and sideboards steps forward to a series of quite remarkably-produced sound effects, you know you are in the realm of the bizarre. I can't say that it's unseen on the West End - the superlative The 39 Steps, currently at the Criterion, which won an Olivier last month, probably paved the way for the go-ahead on this production, but when you have a merry tear running from your eye in the first few seconds of a show, you're hardly going to complain that there are two silly spoofs in London just now.

Javier Marzan's Holmes is completely barking mad. There's no other way of describing it. He makes the most of his heavy Spanish accent, puffing on an enormous curly pipe and wearing a natty deerstalker and caped coat. When he's "Holmes in disguise," only the fabric changes, making him a grotty coach driver in deerstalker and cape, and a stinking old tramp in rabbit-skin deerstalker and cape. His "indoor" velvet deerstalker-combo is particularly fetching, and acts as a good sausage receptacle later on (no - you'll just have to see it...)

Watson in this version is, unlike the sensitive soul portrayed in the Greenwich version, a gaping loon, the Laurel to Holmes's Hardy. Together they pursue their crazy quarry to, well, a quarry. The "other" characters were fabulously bonkers stereotypes whose gags were seamlessly inserted into the show later on.

I particularly liked the bits where they realised the show was running a bit short (did this start at Edinburgh, I wonder, where all the shows last an hour?) and they tacked on some 'extra scenes' which worked superbly well.

Every scene layers on the silliness and, coupled with some clever tricks (one of which I still can't work out how was done) and inventive performances (Javier Marzan in a frock and beard is worth the entrance price alone) it makes for one of the funniest nights I've experienced in some time. Well - since I saw The 39 Steps, actually.

I don't think this quite eclipses The 39 Steps, so if you're only going to see one crazed anarchical comedy this spring, see that, but my face ached by the end of this show and I heartily recommend it. Hurry up, it only lasts for 10 weeks, but if you go before 8th May all tickets are £ 20. And the other Hound, at Greenwich only lasts til Saturday, and is also well worth a viewing, so get your skates on...

Note to Greenwich Theatre - get these guys Peepoluykus at Greenwich - they're fab. Oh - and as a non sequitur to match that of the Greenwich version of HotB, when are you going to get the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain back?

Nick Raynsford

Kate sent me this, and I thought I'd throw it out to the floor. Indoor language, now, please...


"I was pleased to read your post on Cllr. Mary Mills - and agree with all the comments about what an asset she is to Greenwich.
Can I ask what your (and your readers) experience of Nick Raynsford is please? I don't want to get into party-political stuff, but I've been disappointed by his failure to respond to three separate queries in three years - A 100% non-response rate on issues which a junior assistant should be able to draft a response on.
Is this just my experience and he's actually a good constituency MP or is he taking a relatively safe seat for granted? Please advise!"

Nick Raynsford is a puzzle to me.

I always thought that MPs were obliged to answer letters sent to them (not sure about emails)but if he hasn't managed one response in three that's pretty poor going. On the one occasion I actually wrote to him, he did respond, with answers to each of my questions, albeit cut-and-pasted party-line from various government policies, rather than with any personal or local thoughts. In my naivety I had hoped I might get some kind of personal opinion out of him - something that might individualise him. No chance. No cracks in that public persona.

On the plus side, he does at least live in the borough, and he does seem to occasionally open things or unveil plaques. Someone's got to do that. ;-)

His rather annoying 'newsletter,' which I'm sure irritates more people than endears him, gives us a glossy PR view of his year, in which he's seen picking up litter on the Thames (not knocking him for that, of course, but it's hardly cutting-edge) and smiling with carefully-chosen pensioners. On the back page he has a diary in which he lists every time he spoke in Parliament. It's not a terribly edifying read - he doesn't seem to have much to say. (A friend of mine gets SMS alerts every time Nick speaks in parliament; I keep meaning to sign up for that too. It would seem from the newsletter that my friend doesn't get bothered too often.)

Now, I know that all MPs create these newsletters, but I disapprove in virtually every way. It's money that could be spent better on practically anything. All these newsletters do is show off what these guys have done and how wonderful they are. They're glossy, tree-killing wastes of cash and time and they all end up in the bin.

But back to Our Nick. I guess see him as a bland party man, rarely prepared to raise his head above the parapet. Which is a shame as I think there is more to him than we ever get to see. I don't see him as a bad man - or even, really, a bad politician. Just - insipid.

I think he could be a very good constituency MP - a sort of MP version of the exemplary Mary Mills. I think he has it in him - he's just buried it.

I've only actually seen him in the flesh once - when I was walking to Sainsbury's on a Friday night and passing the Labour Party shop in Woolwich Rd. It was surgery time, but he didn't have any customers, so was lounging with his feet up on the desk chatting on the phone. I confess I'd always assumed that surgeries would be full, and I can't believe that there are no problems in Greenwich worth sorting out. Having said that, it sort of gave him a kind of 'human' element - it's the sort of thing I might find myself doing. I'm sure most people would disapprove, but it made me smile. I almost went in just to keep him company...

Indigo 2

Hmm.

I confess I am, in general, quite excited about what's happening at the Dome (no -I'm not going to call it that stupid corporate name until I really have to) and it's only because nothing at the Arena appeals to me and I'm not prepared to spend ridiculous amounts on buying a ticket for something I'm not interested in that I've not got tickets to the first night(aye, there's the rub of the whole Phantom gig - I might be able to say what I like about things but I don't get any freebies.)

But I've been uncomfortable about not being there, so when I saw an ad in the News Shopper for the Indigo2 music venue (what are their PR department up to, one wonders - surely you'd have thought they could get a bit of editorial...) I thought I'd book up for something.

I didn't bother taking the paper upstairs to book - I pride myself at finding things on the net - but after about 20 minutes of floundering around insubstantial websites I gave up and went downstairs to get the address (if you're interested it's www.theindigo2.com.) Trouble is, the site looks good - but it misses out what the place actually looks like, so when you come to book you have no idea of where you're going to be or whether it's best to sit or stand.

What, for example, is "The King's Row?" You'll pay £ 40 for the privilege of sitting there. It says it's the VIP bit - but where is it? Quite often the VIP areas are just hosting corporate clients who aren't actually interested in the event so it's noisy and difficult to see anything for all the horsey people quaffing champagne.

Ticket prices are not cheap. They start at £ 30 for standing, and some of the tables also cost £ 30 - but I can't tell whether you'd actually be able to see anything if you sat in one - or whether the people standing in front would block your view. The centre seats are £ 35 and there seem to be some more expensive ones at £ 39.50 (only on some ticket websites) which for the extra 50p you might as well sit in that mythical Kings Row.

Its being a new venue, nobody knows. It would have been really helpful to get a seating plan - or even some kind of flowery description. There's a fairly rubbish artist's impression which could be bloody anywhere and, er, that's it. Is there food? Who knows. Is there drink? Probably. Do you have to drink? Only time will tell.

After a lot of faffing around on the ticketmaster site I gritted my teeth and bought tickets - but oh-my-god it hurts. The actual price paid isn't just the face value, of course.

It costs a whopping £ 4.75 PER TICKET extra PLUS £ 2.75 postage. What are they going to send them in? Gold envelopes?

These extra charges really stick in my craw. And you can't avoid them because there's no box office to visit in person. GGGGGRRRRRRR. Presumably once there is a box office they won't actually be able to charge the postage any more, but I'll wait to see whether that sodding "service charge" remains.

What I don't get is why they don't make the tickets themselves more expensive and hide the "service charge." (probably some tax-y VAT thing, I guess, but it's still crap.)

I don't know any more than anyone else what the Indigo2 venue's going to be like. But it had better be bloody good for these prices and the amount of time I've just spent buying the tickets.

I'll report further developments as I hear them.

Reuse and Recycling Centre

Nathan Way, Plumstead, SE28

This is the bit of the Council's refuse site that we used to call "going down the dump." A few years ago it was changed to being slightly more recycling-friendly, but it has had quite a facelift recently and though not quite perfect yet, is definitely going the right way for my money.

Firstly, you now drive up onto a ramp and drop your waste into the various skips rather than risking life and limb climbing those slippery metal steps with giant bin bags. Secondly, they've designed it for fewer hold-ups (though there were still a few traffic jams when I was there.) Thirdly, they've got more different sections so that more things can be separated, which is A Good Thing. Everything from household batteries to paint and household chemicals can now be separated - which means that toxins don't leach out into the water supply whilst they're in landfill.

The big change is that they're introducing a new bit which is not dissimilar to Greenwatch, but for household items rather than office furniture. There's a new area for unwanted white goods, furniture etc, which will be reconditioned - either just cleaned if they're still working or mended if they're repairable - by young people who are being NVQ trained in this field and then either used by the council for helping needy people or young families or re-sold to the public.

I understand that goods will be on sale at the reuse and recycling centre itself, but I've also heard rumour that there will be a dedicated shop at the industrial estate in Bugsby's Way on the Peninusula. Goods will be very cheap (naturally) and if you have a Greenwich Card, they will be subject to further discounts. I think this is a great idea - and can only hope that they will expand the project to other, smaller items that might turn up in the "household waste" bins which still go to landfill. I still weep when I see what is being thrown in them. The other day I saw huge planters (the sort that cost a fair whack in B&Q,) a not-unsalvageable bicycle and some good-looking plastic boxes, all of which, given a hose-down, would have gone very happily if they were placed on Freecycle.

I totally applaud Greenwich Council for introducing all this. I believe it's a good move - especially since any money raised from the sale of these goods will go to help train young people.

They're also going to be changing our rubbish collections - or so I've heard. The blue-top recycling bins (which, by the way, can take virtually eveything except polystyrene, organic material and those cardboard fruit juice packs with the aluminium linings) will be collected once a week.

They will be converting our green-top bins from general rubbish to organic - so everything from chicken bones to hedge clippings, eggshells to left-over pizza. These will also be collected once a week and taken to a special, covered, ENORMOUS compost bin-type thing where they will collect the methane and sell it to gas companies, and the compost which they will sell to local developers for topsoil. There shouldn't be any smells as people can either collect their organic waste in paper bags or cardboard boxes inside their bins or use special cornstarch bags which will rot down with the rest of the waste.

Anything else will be picked up in bags every other week - theoretically there will be virtually none of it.

I also think this is a good idea. The more the council can collect, recycle and sell, the less our concil tax will be and the less guilty I'll feel about throwing things away. They're making an effort - albeit because Governement and EU directives are forcing them to.

So - that's household waste well on the way to being dealt with soundly, but we still have a problem. There are no Governement directives about small and medium-sized businesses recycling waste, and until shops, businesses and offices are also forced to recycle the huge amounts that they accumulate, the work the council's doing with our household stuff will be less effective than it could be. Some businesses are doing it anyway, but they need to be given more incentives - carrots and sticks. We're all in this together, whether we want to be or not.

Hand Made Food

Cafe/Deli/Traiteur

40, Tranquil Vale, SE3

It's part of that funky row of interesting shops that we'd give our eye-teeth for in central Greenwich - just two doors down from Boulangerie Jade and round the corner from several other fabbo stores, but let's not be mealy-mouthed - it's still largely walkable - and a worthwhile destination indeed.

I'd heard good things about Hand Made Food, but the place was always so darn busy that I had shied away from actually trying to eat in there - or even to queue up for a takeaway. It looked great. That slightly bohemian, busy interior with splendid-looking tarts and pastries, cakes and buns, quiches and salads filling the windows made my mouth water as walked past. But those queues...

Still. Queues are part of the whole phantom-gig, and after yet another rave review from friends I finally tackled it. No room outside of course, but I was determined to sit-in if I could so we nabbed a couple of stools at the side. The service is very friendly and fast - considering that you can't just choose a dish - you have to answer all kinds of questions about how much you want, what you want it with and how you want it done. It reminds me a bit of that bit in You've Got Mail where Tom Hanks explains how Starbucks allows people who are bad at decisions to feel better by having to make fifteen decisions over a cup of coffee before work. Not, of course, that I'm in any way comparing this wonderful place to Starbucks. Sorry guys...

Still - there are a lot of decisions to be made and that's before you get to the drinks. The choice is large - and, obviously, all home made. Large, organic fishcakes, huge slices of tart of the day, well-composed salads, a whole fridge full of toothsome-looking meats.

Our fruit juices were wonderful. They arrived separately, as they were individually prepared and they tasted like it too. Tangy, fresh and substantial in themselves. My Tart of the Day (leek and Gruyere) had fresh, crumby pastry, not too thick, not too thin, and a tasty, deep filling, well-balanced and good-sized. The side salad was a disappointment - exactly two leaves of lettuce, and with the dirty bottom bit still gritty. Perhaps that was my fault, as they had offered me the selection of salads from the chiller and I had been concerned that it would be too much, so opted for a small green salad instead. I don't blame myself for the grit...

I am the only person in the world who doesn't seem to be turned on by bacon - even vegetarians seem to miss it. Not me. So I left it to my companion to test out what I had heard called 'the best bacon sandwich ever.'

He is a big fan of the bacon sandwiches you get from the van in Blackheath Farmers Market - and confesses he likes the immediacy and floppiness of the bacon - a dripping, juicy, wet experience. He had to admit that the Hand Made Food version was clearly extremely good quality, but it wasn't quite to his taste, its being very very crispy indeed.

I suspect this is a case of basic personal choice. If you're a fan of crispy bacon (and I know there are a lot of crispy fans out there) then you'll be in heaven here. The bacon looked good and crunchy even to me who doesn't like it. But if you like the floppy, juicy style, then go to the market, where the juices will dribble happily down your chin as you wander round, bun in one hand, napkin in the other. My companion said he would have liked a little butter on the Hand Made Foods bread, to balance-out the dryness.

I guess the best bit is that everyone gets to be happy - both styles are available.

The sweets are to die for - big plates of beautifully-iced cupcakes (I'm SO glad they're fashionable just now - I just love them) tarts, slices of interesting large cakes and big slabs of yummy biscuity-type things like millionaire's shortbread. I'll have to test them another day though. My slice of tart was far too big to allow a sweet.

As you sit around waiting for the food to arrive (and it is a short wait - they prepare everything on the spot) you can look at the lovely food they sell. Montezuma's chocolate (My favourite is the Geranium flavour, but I couldn't see it there) yummy honeys and spreads, Burts crisps, interesting pasta - the selection is small, but exquisite.

Their coffee comes from the Monmouth Coffee Company - which I like a lot. (My own personal favourite coffee company is Union Coffee Roasters, based in Docklands, where the owners personally hand-roast every batch, but Monmouth is also good.)

I can only assume that Hand Made Food's delightful shop in Tranquil Vale is the 'public front' of their catering business, since even at the healthy prices they charge, a couple of tables out and a few bar stools inside can't really pay for rents in Blackheath Village.

I can't speak for Hand Made Food as a traiteur - I have not knowingly eaten any of what I suspect is extremely splendid buffet food. But their menus look wonderful - everything from finger food for parties at £ 1.50 a mouthful - not actually bad for corporate prices - to cold buffet menus and what they call 'little dishes for receptions.' Has anyone used Hand Made Foods for their 'do? I'd like to hear about it.

They also do hampers - chilled delivery for London, ambient delivery for the rest of Britain.

www.handmadefood.com

The Worm of Death

Nicholas Blake, Hamlyn, 1961

She's an award-winning sculptor. He's an Oxford-graduate poet. They fight crime...

It's official. Poetry doesn't pay. When even the Poet Laureate needs a day job, there's no hope at all for the rest of us.

Our very own local Poet Laureate, C. Day Lewis's day job was writing pot-boiler mysteries, as Nicholas Blake. His 16 Nigel Strangeways stories, started in 1935, garnered quite a fanbase as readers followed the young, handsome poet from idealistic days as a sleuth who used literary references to solve mysteries, through darker times in WWII, a marriage that ended with his beloved wife's death through to much more world-weary stories in the 1950s and 60s. By 1961, Strangeways, in many ways older and wiser, has met a sculptress (sculptor, she reminds someone less politically correct than myself) and they have moved to Greenwich. This is handy, since that's exactly what C. Day. Lewis himself had done (moved, that is, not married a sculptor.)

The Worm of Death (don't you just love that title) is nearer the end of the cycle, but Strangeways is still sleuthing away, like a poetic cross between Miss Marple and The Famous Five, by this point aided and abetted by the lovely Clare. It's all very modern for the time - a point is made about their not being married - quite racy for 1961, and though the actual book feels a little dated, the story clips along at a good pace, albeit with some now-hilarious dialogue.

The best bit about The Worm of Death is the fabulously atmospheric setting. We are deep in mid-20th Century Greenwich here, and the references to the place show just how little - and how much - the place has changed. It's set in the winter of 1960 (Blake/Lewis somewhat red-faced admits he's changed the weather of that year) in thick pea-souper fog with the whole of Greenwich immersed in a myopic vision of fear.

Roads and areas are regularly namechecked - it's clear Lewis/Blake adored the grime, smut and beauty of it - and places described with the eye of one who knows every inch of the terrain. Most of it is set in Crooms Hill (handily in the house where Lewis himself lived - check out the blue plaque at Number 6) and around the west and centre of town (East Greenwich is only mentioned as a sort of amorphous mass where where poor people and undesirables live, ditto Docklands, though the foot tunnel does get a splendid mention.)

The big difference about this freezing, foggy vision of our town and the one we are more familiar with today is the river traffic and the docks, which are a constant presence. The citizens of this Greenwich know every ship, every noise each boat makes and the different vessels that traverse the Thames as well as their own children. The factories and docks are characters in themselves and in this The Worm of Death is an important social document. This is stuff within living memory, but hardly anyone thinks about it now.

It's a pretty basic whodunnit, which, if you suspend your disbelief in a device where a top Scotland Yard official would go to an ageing local poet for help to solve a murder, is really rather fun. I enjoyed accompanying Strangeways and one of his suspects up to the top of one of the hills in the Park and sitting on that bench looking out over London with them, I enjoyed walking past the Power Station and Ballast Quay, and looking into the murk of The Thames outside Trafalgar Tavern for clues, then going inside to ask the residents (not regulars, mark you, these guys lived there) if they'd heard anything suspicious. I especially enjoyed the detailed description of what was clearly Lewis's house.

I was a bit disappointed that Strangeways didn't actually compose any poetry along the way, though his artistic sensibilities came out in other ways:

"She'd be quite handsome, thought Nigel, if she took herself in hand: but what possessed her, with that complexion, to wear a coffee-coloured dress?"

"Nigel shuddered inwardly at the appalling solecism."

Happily Clare does do a spot of sculpture, much to the alarm of her cock-er-ney char lady.

It's great fun, and I romped through it in a matter of hours. I was less sure about the frankly baffling ending. I won't reveal what it is in case you fancy reading the book (it's been out of print for ages but is still to be found on Amazon Marketplace etc. - I got my copy for 37p) but in today's climate of policing, it owes more to Life on Mars than The Bill. I guess it's just a sign of not just police-methods but literary style itself changing, but nonetheless, The Worm of Death still makes a charming local read, and not only from an historical perspective.

Coriander

Station Crescent, SE3

Coriander is a decent local Bangladeshi/Indian restaurant. It's nothing flashy, but it's not horribly old-fashioned or seedy either. Just somewhere serving the local community quietly and with a smile. It's part of a very small chain (three other restaurants in East London) but you'd never know.

It's where Thyme used to be (does every restaurant on this spot need to be named after a herb, I wonder) which though I desperately wanted to like never really hit the spot for me. It was nice enough, I went there a few times but it didn't really inspire me to go back, which is what a local restaurant needs to do. A shame, as I like modern European cuisine.

I was a bit ho-hum when Coriander arrived - another Indian restaurant - and opposite the Royal Nepalese at that. But it's managed to pass my persnickety-ness and we go on a reasonably regular basis.

It's simple and modern - terracotta walls with a little dado, sparkly lights in the ceiling, crisp white tablecloths and high-backed leather chairs in the main dining room, simple round tables and an omnipresent TV in the bar area. You wouldn't catch me having a drink there - that Telly's just too overbearing- but the restaurant area next door is really rather good.

My advice would be not to sit in the window if you arrive early. This is because the halogen street light outside will suddenly switch on during your meal and you'll go from being bathed in rather nice soft outside lamps to feeling like you're on a football pitch. If you arrive later you'll be able to see where the halogen shadow stops and seat yourself appropriately. Of course by that point it may have got crowded and you won't have a choice...

The lamp-thing is not a major problem - just something we've noticed rather than been annoyed by on occasion.

The food is fresh, well-prepared and nicely presented. The poppadoms are crisp and light; the accompanying pickles also good and not out of a jar. The mains (we ordered our secret 'control' menu, of course) were bright, tasty and not too oily. Take note, though. If they warn you that a dish will be hot, believe them, ok? We don't want tears before bedtime. There are plenty of nice, lightly spiced options too. I was particularly taken with the presentation - lovely brass vessels and china with Coriander's name and logo.

There were children in there the other night while we were there, who were being treated very well - they seemed to have a good time. There were various different groups of people; not just your usual couples. This is not really a "destination" restaurant. This is a local, for the community, for people to return to, and the service and food reflect a place that is counting on repeat custom.

So - shock - another restaurant I actually like. can't eat there too often or I'll be the size of a train, but as an occasional treat - yummy...

Greenworks

Nathan Way, SE28

WG mentioned this a couple of weeks ago whilst we were talking about Greenwich Freecycle and I was really excited by it, so I thought I'd go and visit and find out what it was like.

Basically, it's a way of recycling office furniture in which everyone benefits. Greenworks is a charity which clears offices - usually when they have a refit. This is often from banks, blue chip companies and City institutions, but also from hospitals, local government and, more worryingly, central government, many of whose departments redecorate every year.

Once Greenworks have collected the gear, they refurbish it. Most of the kit is hardly used - these companies chuck out some amazing stuff - but anything that's truly dead gets taken to pieces and its components reused by people, often disadvantaged, who have been trained in refurbishment. The wood gets made into new furniture, the foam used as stuffing for kids toys (it's all fireproofed, remember) - even the casters are broken up to be used in roadbuilding.

They then sell it. Everything from carpet tiles to desks, filing cabinets to box files. They do all sorts of services including a complete made-to-measure office fit, but they're just as happy for you to bowl up and have a look around. They especially like not-for-profit companies, but everyone is welcome. It's particularly good for people setting up a new business as the prices are excellent (and I get the feeling they'll do deals if you ask very nicely.) The money goes to training the people, paying proper salaries and keeping the company going. Everyone's a winner.

I had a long chat with the extremely friendly guy and his assistant in the office. He clearly loves his job, and is passionate about recycling. He told me horror stories of government over-spending - for example, he was called out to the Foreign Office to collect an entire consignment of office swivel chairs, but he decided to leave the chairs on the lorry as they were still in their wrappings - he thought he'd made a mistake. It would appear that they weren't quite the right colour or something similarly trivial and the whole lot had been junked before it was even opened. That's out taxes, that is. Without Greenworks, the whole lot would have gone into landfill. It's enough to make you cry. Unsurprisingly, that particular batch sold very quickly...

He tells me it's a little quiet in the warehouse at the moment as, being the beginning of the new financial year, the government haven't got around to wasting our money yet, but he reckons that in the next month or so it will start to fill up with hardly-used gear at bargain prices.

I was astounded at what they sell - GIGANTIC boardroom tables and matching chairs, water coolers, magazine display racks, foyer seating - whatever might be in an office, chances are they'll have it. I noticed some odd-shaped sofas, which had apparently come out of a recording studio. If they don't you can ask him to call around the other branches in London or even further, and they'll either bring it over next time they're coming Greenwich way, or keep a look out for one and let you know when it arrives. And they're truly friendly people who want to be helpful and enjoy the whole process of recycling and dealing with people.

I would highly recommend this for anyone who needs to kit out a new business - or even just find a filing cabinet for their home office. Oh - and there's a splendid silver challenge cup there at the moment, which was once Nat West Bank's Staff Suggestions cup. My suggestion for it would be a great champagne cooler...

Greenworks is A Good Thing. And for that, I'm calling it a Greenwich Phantom Favourite Haunt.

Check it out.

http://www.green-works.co.uk/

A Question of Mural-ity

Ok, I'm giving up on this one; and throwing it out to the floor.

Jonathan asks:

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

I've been doing some digging, I've been asking around and calling few people and I still don't have a clue. Does anyone else know anything?

Underground Greenwich (2) Tunnels in Greenwich Park

Since commencing myown personal Great Greenwich Read-A-Thon, I have realised A Universal Truth. No - nothing about single men in posession of fortunes or anything like that, no.

Merely that a story set in Greenwich or Blackheath must be in want of a good underground tunnel. I got no further than page 19 of The Worm of Death (sitll loving that title) before they started mentioning the tunnels in Greenwich Park, and virtually all the other books set in the area are based around the fantasy of a troglodytic world.

On Bentos's suggestion, I thought I'd do a bit of sniffing about these caverns and tunnels, but am sure I'm only scraping the surface here. Anyone who wants to add a freaky fact or spooky story of their own, please feel free to do so...

My first link is to

www.kurg.org.uk/sites/secret.htm

which is all about underground tunnels, and they describe the ones under Greenwich Park as conduits rather than secret passages. They are very much man-made, brick-lined and with rather splendid arched roofs. They're about 5ft high and half as wide, so not imposible to walk along if you stooped a bit, assuming you were actually allowed anywhere near them. They're very closely guarded by Royal Parks. Various people have claimed to have spent some time as small children looking for the entrances, but no one I've ever met has ever actually been in one. Do let me know if you actually managed it. Some of them are as long as a quarter of a mile. The site reckons that there are little gaps in the bottom three courses leading to lead troughs in the floor, with occasional manholes.

I have no idea exactly where they run - they apparently have lots of branches, but I can't find a map of them (do let me know if you know of one.) They were meant as a means of collecting water for the Royal Palace, presumably the more recent one rather than Placentia, though a somewhat obscure English Heritage feature seems to imply they are medieval. I do know that if you stand in the bottom part of the park looking back in the direction of the river you'll spot, in a private garden, one of the oldest buildings in Greenwich, and, if memory serves, one of the few remaining parts of Placentia. It's a square, red-roofed building, in a garden to the right of the Queens House as you look from the park, and I remember being told that it once housed the royal water supply - which was well-guarded to prevent poisoning. Perhaps it's connected to the park conduits.

There's a conduit head from about 1710 on the corner of West Grove and Hyde Vale - it is quite large, brick-built and has a rounded top. It also has a plaque on it which I must read one day. There's also a largeish brick building in the west part of the park which I have always assumed was something to do with the water suply - maybe one of the Friends could enlighten me?

Another hole in the park is also mentioned by this site, a 100ft well built in 1670 at the Royal Observatory by John Flamsteed, the first Astronomer Royal. He would go down the spiral steps and point his extra-long telescope towards the heavens. The Kurg site says you can see it at the Observatory, but I confess I don't remember it.

Of course the biggest tunnel underneath Greenwich Park is the railway link from London Bridge out towards Dartford. It was going to be above ground but the good burghers of Greenwich opposed it violently during the 1830s and it was instead built underground in 1878.


Here's a link to a great pic of the conduit under the park: (you might need to reformat it so it works)

http://viewfinder.english-heritage.org.uk/search/reference.asp?index=2497&main_query=&theme=&period=&county=&district=&place_name=London&imageUID=76063

I'll cover the Blackheath tunnels, caverns and other heath-type holes another day...

Westcombe Park Police Station

I've been reading in The Papers that all the police stations in the area are to close with a new Super Police Station opening somewhere central. Is there anyone who didn't see that one coming a mile off?

Presumably they've been having a look at the estate agents prices and realising what a gold mine they're sitting on. Plumstead? Not bad. The centre of Woolwich? Really rather good. Westcombe Park Police Station in Combeda