Benedict's Sheep

This absolutely refused to load on the correct post, but I loved it so much (and thought Mark's girl might enjoy it too) that it's got its own. Benedict won a BBC competition with this image, taken at Mudchute Farm. Congratulations, Benedict. Off you go, Mark...

Beer and Gin

Virtually nothing survives of the old palace of Placentia, as we were discussing yesterday. So when I hear about something that does just about cling onto existence, I want to know about it. Especially if just about the only description I can find on the internet claims it is 'obscene.'

I read about Beer and Gin - two ancient figures who lived over the Buttery (food store) at Placentia - in a single sentence in a guidebook written in 1937. Sir Geoffrey Callender, who was the first Director of the National Maritime Museum refers to the pair in passing as having
"presided over many a riotous scene in the days of Bluff King Hal, still serving a long term of imprisonment in the Tower of London, whither they were moved by order of the Commonwealth."

I was intrigued. I'd never heard of such figures. I googled the pair to infinity, finding only one other mention - as their being 'obscene.' No pictures at all, no mention in any modern references to the Tower today.

Now I love an ancient obscene figure as much as the next Phantom, and when faced with the concept of two of them, I sniffed A Quest. Not least, perhaps, one of rescue. What the hell were they doing still languishing in the Tower when Greenwich could do with all the ancient obscene figures it could get? (And no, Chris Roberts doesn't count.)

Since I couldn't find anyone to tell me whether they were still there, there was only one thing for it. Co-opt a couple of American visitors and seek the jolly pair out myself.

We decided to do the whole tourist thing - I mean if you're paying sixteen quid each you want every cheesy moment the Tower can throw at you. And believe me - there are cheesy moments a-go-go on a visit to the Tower. We did the Beefeater Tour, the Crown Jewels and the photo opportunity with the ravens. We paced up and down Sir Walter Raleigh's Walk and dutifully voted about whether we thought the Little Princes were actually murdered by Richard III. We heard gory tales of Tyburn and Tower Hill and Jack Ketch, The Most Inept Executioner In All Of England. And then we got down to business.

The first Yeoman I asked didn't know what the hell I was talking about - I doubt he gets many questions that don't include Anne Boleyn, torture or his costume. It didn't bode well. So I went for the oldest, beardiest, fattest-looking Beefeater I could find - always the best idea when asking obscure, I find. And obscene. Beer and Gin? Just by the stairs on the first floor in the White Tower, he told me. Tension mounted. Filth coming up...


Hmmm.

You know, I spent a long time trying to work out what on earth was obscene about the strange pair in front of me. Waist-length carved wooden gentlemen in Tudor doublet and gown, each clutching a tankard in pudgy fingers and looking - well, a bit pathetic, actually.

They've clearly been knocked about a bit (by Cromwell, boo, hiss) and Beer has what looks like a whip wound around his middle. One of my American companions pointed out a slight bulge in an obvious place in Beer's puffy pants, but frankly, I would defy Mary Whitehouse herself to find these two 'obscene.' Comic? Perhaps. Creepy? Definitely. Obscene? Nah...

I can only assume that Cromwell thought that the very act of drinking was obscene. Tell you what, though. Rude or not, I still think they could find a little spot for Beer and Gin in the new Interpretation Centre in Greenwich. Our very own Statler and Waldorf, commenting on goings-on from that balcony up the spiral staircase. I can just see it now:

Beer:"It's good to be heckling again."
Gin: "It's good to be doing anything again!"
Both: "Ha ha ha ha!"

A new campaign for the Phantom, perhaps.

If I'm absolutely honest, there is something else more important (what - more important than Beer and Gin?) The Tower holds that I would like to see returned to Greenwich. But that's for another day...

Sheepish Phantom

This has to be the oddest Ask The Phantom I've had so far...

Mark asks:

My girl is absolutely mad about sheep. Cotswold sheep, in specific. Unfortunately she is stuck over in the states in a completely sheepless area. So, for her birthday which is coming up in early April, I thought I would go and try and collect images of her obsession for a sheep-focussed birthday love-letter. (My word, that does sound problematic...)

Now, I have heard rumours of some unknown species of sheep being kept in a park somewhere in or near Greenwich and I'm aware that there's an urban farm in Mudchute just across the Thames... but would you, or any of your readers, happen to know of more locations I might find sheep in the general area? Cotswolds are the preferred breed, but I'll take any I can find. Unfortunately I am unable to get myself over to the Cotswolds, the obvious place to search, and am otherwise limited to the general London area, Greenwich being the one in which I live and work.

Unfortunately other people's pictures of sheep don't help, it's just... not going to be the same unless I go out and photograph the sheep myself!

The Phantom replies:

Woodlands Farm Trust has four varieties of sheep - Romney, Suffolk, Texel and Lleyn. Sadly no Cotswold baa-lambs there, but a bit further up the Thames than Lechlade...

At Maryon Wilson Park in Charlton you can actually 'adopt' a sheep for your girl. They don't mention varieties, but they all have names - like poor Mylo who is missing an ear after being attacked by a dog a couple of years back when vandals smashed up the enclosure.

There's another City Farm - Surrey Docks Farm - along the Thames Path around Bermondsey. It doesn't appear to have a website.

You know, I'm sure I've seen photos by none other than our very own Benedict that included sheep. Of course I might have been hallucinating. It doesn't sound very likely, I know, but...Benedict? I know you're more into toads these days - but can you help a young couple?

The King's House

Sir Christopher Wren did such a great botch-job on what is now The Old Royal Naval College, that most people tend to assume it was all built at the same time. Truth is, one of the four main courts of Greenwich Hospital is considerably older than the other three, and it was only after eating a slice of humble pie (the recipe of which modern architects could use a taste) that Wren actually came up with what we have today.

It was all a bit of a mess, really. Duke Humphrey's Bella Court (now firmly underneath the lawns at the ORNC) had been subsumed into Placentia, prettied-up by Margaret of Anjou and enjoyed by sundry monarchs up to James I (or VI of Scotland, if you're being picky.) But by the time he was building The Queen's House for his wife (who most ungratefully died before it was finished) poor old Placentia was looking pretty feeble. James, being a weak and feeble type (accused by one contemporary of having 'spindly legs,' no less) found the maritime air of Greenwich too bracing and the damp worsened his aches and pains, so he upped sticks to Whitehall. Placentia sat and rotted. Charles I's wife Henrietta Maria found it more to her taste - but stuck to the Queen's House.

Cromwell sold off everything he could during the Commonwealth, and allowed his soldiers to vandalise the old palace to such an extent that when Charles II came to inspect what was left in 1661, it was a pile in the truest meaning of the word. The place was so neglected that the rusty old gates had to be broken open for him.

The Queen's House was to be finished - even if now Henrietta Maria was somewhat older - a sad Miss Haversham-esque dowager attended by twenty four gentlemen in black velvet. Her son just wanted a new place. Work began on 4th March, 1664. Samuel Pepys was most excited. "I observed the laying of a very great house for the King," he wrote, adding "which will cost a great deal of money."

Pepys was right on the nail, as always. John Webb, the architect, had a grand plan to build it as a grand, three-sided affair, but, in truth everyone knew it was going to be difficult enough to manage just the one.

Like many of Charles's Big Ideas, the King's House ran into financial difficulties almost immediately. It was a building site for bloomin' years. When Pepys came to stay in Greenwich on 24th August 1665, trying to get away from the Plague, he was planning on taking rooms in the palace, but had to content himself elsewhere, as it was nowhere finished.

After three years £26,433 had been spent, and it still wasn't complete. It didn't help that Charles was a veritable butterfly - starting projects all over the shop, then flitting onto the next - The Observatory being a case in point. By 1669, Pepys was used to there being nowhere for him when he came to Greenwich. He wearily wrote that it "goes on slow, but is very pretty."

The East Wing of the King's House was finally done in 1669. But by this point the world had moved on.

William and Mary were on the throne. Mary wanted to turn the place into a seaman's hospital, and commissioned Sir Christopher Wren to design it. He came up with an enormous plan that would flatten both the Queen's and King's houses and create an enormous grid-affair of buildings. Mary would hear nothing of it - she wanted to keep the King's house - and the view from her own gaff. So Wren swallowed his pride, moulding his ideas and ego to fit what was already there.

I ask you. If Sir Christopher Wren could work with old, historic buildings already standing and make something new, vibrant, exciting and relevant out of them, why can't today's architects do the same thing? Take the - Victorian, say, buildings we have and adapt them for today's purposes instead of imposing their conceits and arrogance on us and insisting on razing what is already there to flatter their petty egos?

But I digress yet again. Back to the King's House.



It's serious stuff. Heavily classical - pediments, columns, rustications - and with no doubt about its instigator - Carolus II Rex enscribed in giant letters on the river-side. It's definitely best seen in blazing sunshine or, as photographed at the top by Stevie, by night, when its floodlit severity pays dividends against the black night sky. Inside is the Admiral's House (for another day) and Trinity College of Music (ditto...) The interior courtyard, still quaintly cobbled, feels more out-of-another-era than the rest of it, and always seems to have a snogging couple lurking in the shadows somewhere whenever I walk through. Aahhhh.

Don't you just take one look at Stevie's picture and think what a great place we live in?

Last-Minute Archaeology

This has just come to my attention - so if you're free today, hop along to Woolwich to see what's going on there. I won't be there myself, so I'd appreciate any feedback or pics.

I'm really hoping that Oxford Archaeology will actually give people more notice in future. I'd have loved to have seen this...

Site Visit Day: `Teardrop Site', Warren Lane, adjacent the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich 28th February 2008 c11.00am - 3.00pm Series of pottery kilns from 14th century to 17th century plus a mysterious massive `ditch'.Please contact Dave Score at Oxford Archaeology d.score@oxfordarch.co.uk if you wish to visit.

Greenwich Shudders - And Yet The Phantom Is Unmoved

Blackheathen writes:

There was just blissful silence in my flat as I lay single in my bed for two (aaahhh!) waiting to drop off when there was the briefest but most palpable of shudders. My very first thought was, that was an earthquake somewhere. Don't be mad, my inner voice said.

So it was no surprise this morning to hear the news. But so far away? Is this a record?

I even heard talk of a row of bicycles falling over in Amsterdam.

The Phantom confesses to having had a blissful night of uninterrupted sleep. But did anyone else witness bumps in the night as the biggest Earthquake to shake Britain in 20 years rippled out our way?

Perhaps now is the appropriate moment to introduce you to a site that a pal of mine has helped create. Did The Earth Move For You? will compute exactly how far the earth moved while you were enjoying your personal moment of perfect bliss. So that's what scientists get up to in their spare time...

More Wedding Venue Stuff...

This really ought to go in an FAQ - except that every wedding enquiry seems to be slightly different...

Sarah asks:

We'd really like to have our civil wedding ceremony in Greenwich then put our guests on a boat from the pier for the recepion. Everywhere I ask say they will only do a ceremony if we book the reception with them too. We would like appox 80-90 guests and think the registry office is too far from the river.We'd like to get married this summer and need the ceremony to cost under £2000.Any suggestions?

The Phantom replies:

Your problem is that there are only a few places that are registered for a civil ceremony and the buggers know it. They know they've got you over a barrel and make you do the whole kit and caboodle with them. I'd be tempted to avoid them on principle. If only a few would be a little less greedy and just make themselves available for lovely little standalone civil ceremonies, they'd do a roaring trade. Maybe a few more of the smaller venues should apply (though I'm assuming there are a lot of hoops to jump through and fees to be paid. When it comes to weddings everyone has their hand out...) Sadly The Phantom Back Garden just isn't big enough, even if it was decked out with some fabulous plastic flowers and the gnomes were dressed in their Sunday best with little carnations in their buttonholes...

What friends of mine have done is two separate events (on different days.) They've had a quiet little 'official' ceremony at the town hall with a minimum of fuss and relatives, then, on another day, they've created their own little unofficial vows ceremony for the people that matter somewhere lovely (usually woods or Neolithic forts, though of course the latter is in short supply around here...) before moving on to yet another venue for the big kneesup.

Hmm. Somewhere near the river. One of these days the Cutty Sark will be available again (though a word to the wise - don't book a peripatetic jazz band with a sousaphone if you're going below decks, ok?) but until then the others know how to charge. The Trafalgar will be way over budget - the Admiral's House is slighty better, I understand, but they make you have Leith's catering and judging from the just-about-ok meals I've had in the King William Restaurant it's nothing to write home about. The Silver Sturgeon is a fine ship for your boat idea; I believe the company has some smaller vessels that may not be quite as prohibitively expensive.

I'm beginning to see a gap in the market. If only I had the cash...

Maybe the good burghers of Greenwich can come up with better suggestions than me.

Do let me know what you come up with. I would genuinely like to know...

The Phantom Titters...

I'm sorry - but is mine the only puerile mind that finds this image snigger-worthy?

I'm not really sure why - maybe it's the juxtaposition of the cannon-in-a-condom with Sir Walter looking on in frank admiration, maybe it's just been a long day...

Thinking about it, it's all a bit - ahem, masculine around there, isn't it. We have two obelisks, a cannon, Sir Walter Raleigh and a host of virile sea-captains looking down on it all. We don't even have a bare-breasted Nannie clutching a piece of horse's tail to counterbalance the male-female off-kilterness at the moment.

Still, I guess the cannon-that-was-lost is now found and they want to look after it, and good for them.

More news of long-lost local obscene-art that should be returned to its rightful home soon...

General Change...

David's getting into a bit of a lather about the Wimpy Bar - and its surroundings.

is it true it is about to close and become a bloody chicken shop oh please say no and the video shop a pond shop oh please say no all the shops empty from the college what si happening to greenwich and could you please tell me what is going on where burger king was major works therealso the state of the st alfeges park the fences torn down the rubbish it s a mess.

Phew. The Phantom doesn't really know what to say except, perhaps, suggesting a cup of tea and a sit down before reading on...

I don't know about the Wimpy Bar per se. It wouldn't surprise me to see it go - it must be one of the few left standing...

It's certainly a marvellous throwback to the 1970s - when, standing proud in its Britishness, it may have served burgers - but you were never allowed to let it go to your head. You'd be forced to remember you were British, for God's sake. and you had some values... Waitress service - and you'll eat that burger with a knife and fork, young Phantom. And don't forget to ask permission before you leave the table...

I really don't know what's happening with that funny little shopping centre - it's getting sadder and sadder looking - we've been discussing it recently. I have indeed heard that the ex-video store will be a pound shop, but maybe better a pound shop than a dead shop? Personally, I'd like to see the whole lot flattened and rebuilt with something a bit less brutalist - they could still keep the Somerfield and the flats and the funny little shops - just in something that doesn't look so depressing. I was reading about the mass demolition of old places in the 70s last night - presumably that nasty shopping centre was one of the proud results.

While I may have issues with some of the things the Greenwich Society do these days, without them and their efforts in the 1970s, the whole of Greenwich would have looked like that. They prevented a four-lane motorway from driving straight through the Queen's House and developments like that monstrous shopping centre from replacing the market. And for that I doff my spectral cap.

I was rather surprised to find St Alfege's cemetery chained and locked yesterday - I don't know what's going on there. Anyone know how long it's been like that?

And David's question - what's happening to Greenwich?

I suspect Greenwich is happening to Greenwich.

I don't know. I got up all happy and cheery this sunny Tuesday morning and now on a right downer. Cheer me up with something good, eh, folks...

:-(

Greenwich From The Air...

You may remember my mentioning my friend Ian who's a helicopter pilot - he was able to clear up the mystery of why there are always so many helicopters over Greenwich.

Although some of them are police guys tracking felons from the dodgier areas of town, and others are transport monitors checking out the state of the Blackwall Tunnel (and of course the really noisy Chinooks are MOD and can do what they damn please...) most of them are just circling round in a holding pattern, waiting for permission to enter central London airspace.

He promised me some photographs next time he was over Greenwich (and with a passenger - let's face it, I would have worried if he'd taken snaps himself)and he's come through with some doozies.

There are more, but for some reason (as with yesterday's pics of Nelson's funeral barge) they are refusing to load. I suspect it's a Blogger problem. Ho hum...

Nelson's Secret Room...

The Painted Hall

Back in 1805, The nation was in mourning, just as they should have been celebrating. Trafalgar was won - but at the cost of their blue-eyed boy.

Admiral Lord Horatio Nelson deserves several posts - Heaven knows, he's inspired hundreds of books and a fan club that exists to this day (I must go to a Trafalgar Dinner one day. A friend of mine belongs to the 1805 Society and it sounds an extraordinary experience...) I want to spend much more time on Our Horatio over the coming months but for now, I'd like to look through the keyhole of one of Greenwich's little secrets - hidden right under the noses of the thousands of tourists who visit the Painted Hall.

But back to 1805. Nelson's body was brought back to England, pickled, as legend has it, in a barrel of brandy, from which his men snuck the odd tipple along the way (drinking to his memory, I'm sure...) He was brought to the Painted Hall, where the morticians were given the uphill task of getting him into a fit condition to lie in state before he was buried with full military honours in St Pauls Cathedral.

It wasn't going to be easy. For starters, the brandy had been "refreshed" in Gibraltar with even stronger stuff, and by the time he'd arrived back in Chatham, he'd been dead for, ahem, some time, bundled into a recycled coffin made out of his old bed. They couldn't just dump him in the middle of the Painted Hall like that. He must have smelled like a distilllery for starters...



It was decided the best thing they could do was to use a little room at the side of the hall, which was currently used as a dumping ground for the sort of old tat that we all have knocking around some nasty cupboard somewhere. They had a Life Laundry moment, decluttering the old Archive, finding 'somewhere else' for the piles of books and ledgers; chucking out the shelving. The body, having arrived inconveniently on Christmas Eve, was taken inside, and put under armed guard, while everyone else enjoyed the festive season. I have such images of the poor sods standing outside that room over Christmas.

"Leg or breast, Private Jones?"
"Funny, Sir, I seem to have lost my appetite."
"A sip of brandy, then? It is Christmas, after all, man.."
"Ho, Ho, Ho, Sir."
(Nelson turns in his barrel)
"Did you hear that knocking sound, Jones..?"

With the holiday period over and 1806 rung-in, the rest of the place became a flurry of jet-black ostrich plumes, satin, coats of arms, gilding and escutcheons. Elsewhere, the undertaker, ironically, one Mr France, built a fabulous coffin, decorated with ten thousand brass nails, and took the opportunity of displaying it in his shop window.

The Hall was draped in extravagant sobriety - plumes, feathers and regalia, dominated by a great catafalque, heavy with symbolism, where the great man's body lay, but Nelson himself, dead for well over two months by now, was easily the star of the show.

For three days, lit by sconced candles, England's hero lay in state. No one knows exactly how many people strained against the crash barriers outside to file past, but even the measliest estimate is 15,000. Many reckon it was double that. They came by boat, by cart, by foot (no railway then.)

The funeral flotilla that accompanied the national hero along the Thames up to the City was recreated back in 2005 (they bodged the date a bit, making it, for some strange reason, happen on neither Trafalgar Day nor Nelson's real funeral anniversary) and although it was spectacular, it was also perishing cold, and, as with the original funeral, horribly held up whilst they waited for sundry bigwigs to arrive. The school party I was standing next to waited for hours in the freezing cold and then had to go home without seeing anything. I waited to the bitter end and it was worth it, even if I did begin to wonder whether the whole thing had been cooked up to get people to visit the cafe to warm up afterwards.


But one very good thing that came out of the bicentenery was the restoration of that little side room. Despite its illustrious fifteen minutes (or days) of fame, the Nelson Room went back to being a store cupboard and became largely forgotten. The fabulous little annex, part of the original design of the Painted Hall, was spruced-up with tasteful shades of paint, it's elegant little domed roof restored to perfection. In an original niche, which had always been empty, a giant (modern) statue of Nelson was placed, along with paintings and memorabilia, and as the centrepiece, a model of the Painted Hall as it looked for those heady three days in 1806 was added for good measure.

It was open to all during 2005 (or was it 2006? No matter - it's not now...) but for some strange, extremely arcane reason that was explained to me once by a tour guide, the only way to see it today is to go on one of the guided tours of the Old Royal Naval College. (The ORNC would like to open it for free, but, due to some charity/tax/obscure financial-type reason, they have to charge for something...) The tours are by the way, well worth it - they also include the skittle alley and crypt.

The guide will point out all the good bits, but there's one thing visible from the window, that you shouldn't miss. For this is also the very best way to see the Nelson Pediment, which - and you'll be used to this by now - I will write about another day.

I leave you with one last thought. Stevie sent me an intriguing picture this morning, which could throw an interesting light on the whole affair. Take a look at this plaque. A close look.



Just what was in that barrel again?

The First One's Always Free...

Folks, you may have noticed I didn't post this weekend. There is a reason for that.

Some friends who have my well being at heart began to quietly mention that perhaps my topics of conversation were becoming - well, a bit one-dimensional. Whatever subject they happened to be talking about, I would pipe up with "That's interesting. You know in Greenwich they've got a..." or "Back in 1786 there was a guy in Greenwich who..." or "I know a firm in Greenwich that does that..."

It started innocently enough. A livejournal account that I'd update on an occasional basis. I never thought I'd actually get replies - I intended to just burble to the ether. I didn't inhale.

It's easy to slip though.

I told them I could give up any time I wanted. I hardly noticed that my bedside table was beginning to become covered in the kind of paraphernalia only associated with hardcore usage. Obscure volumes about Greenwich. Lecture notes from 80 year-old talks about Greenwich. Co-ordinates for long-lost Greenwich plaques. My diary had been bowdlerised to take in Greenwich events. My idea of getting away from it all was looking at various Greenwich's around the world as possible holiday destinations.

There was nothing for it. I had to go cold turkey. Just for one weekend. To prove that I really could give it up if I wanted to. The computer didn't go on at all on Saturday. On Sunday it only went on to yield the address (in Hackney) of a party.

I can do it. If I want to. But I don't.

So now I'm mainlining again. Greenwich should be reclassified.

Going Postal

I've had a lot of people contact me about this - our own local part of a national story. One by one, our post offices are closing - and the one along Woolwich Road, opposite Glenister Gardens is the latest victim earmarked for closure. It hardly seems yesterday that we lost the one along Station Crescent at Westcombe Park and now they've got it in for the closest one to it.

It's a funny little place - and I've always feared for it - especially when the school went and then the Hospital, and the footfall just - well, fell. But there are still a hell of a lot of people who live round there and need it. I got my hopes up when the (strangely ham-fisted) renovation took place about 18 months ago (I am still cross I didn't get a photo of the original Post Office signage above the shop which became visible again for a while before being covered up again - personally I'd have kept it - but then I wouldn't have done any of it like that...) but that doesn't seem to have done the trick and someone here told me the new guy can't survive on just the PO revenue (why he doesn't get a few more goods in beats me - I love the idea of a standalone PO but if it needs to be a shop too, so be it.)

Luckily for me, Sean did take some pics of the signs from way back in the days of the mysterious Mr Perkins and sent them to me.

Sean was accused of being nerdy for taking them, but I for one am grateful. Anoraks of the world unite. We have nothing to lose but our relationships.

But back to the Post Office. What baffles me is that although the internet age has brought email and thus fewer letters, it has also brought Mail Order and Ebay. People can buy stuff with the press of a button without leaving their seat - but someone has to trudge down to the post office and send the thing. It's the weakest link in the purchase chain now - I'd have thought that that should be the thing the PO concentrate on - and keeping local post offices so folk don't have to carry an entire scalextrix wrapped up in brown paper or a big cardboard box with a matchbox car and large volumes of expanded polystyrene a mile down the road should be an important part of that.

I heard an interesting thing on the radio. A Royal Mail worker was being interviewed about the cuts. The interviewer said "But they've said that there will still be a Post Office within a mile of every house." The worker said that he didn't know why this was a valid point since there used to be one within a QUARTER of a mile.

I don't know of any petitions. But if you want to vent your spleen, here's the address. Otherwise we face yet another dead shop along Woolwich Road (to add to all the new ones they'll be building at the Old District Hospital Site.)

Anita Turner,
Network Development Manager
c/o National Consultation Team
FREEPOST

Consultation Team
email: consultation@postoffice.co.uk

The branch's official address is 8 Woolwich Road, London, SE10 0JU

Congratulations, Mr Phantom. It's a Blog!

Folks, I'm happy to announce the arrival of several bouncing new pages on the blog. The wonderful Phantom Webmaster has now linked them all up and given the front page a nice new (and possibly familiar) Phantom Image, all ready for Spring.

There are five new pages:

1)An annotated links section - non-exhaustive - I don't list every site I like or use. I'll get round to it at some point.

2) FAQs - where I try to answer some of the things I get asked most frequently about Greenwich or the way the site works.

3)The Phantom's Little Black Book - Trusted Tradespeople as used by myself, my friends or Phantom regulars.

4) The Phantom Photo Album - which will actually have some pics on it as soon as I've worked out how to use it.

5) Parish News. Occasional announcements and events I think look interesting. Again - non-exhaustive - and even now, I'm warning, probably not as frequently updated as it should be.

Let me know what you think of the new bits. If you have any suggestions or questions, do let me know

thegreenwichphantom@gmail.com

General James Wolfe

1727 - 1759

I have been holding out writing about General Wolfe, a local superhero for local people, for some time, for reasons which may be apparent if you look to the right of the screen. I have always thought his was a wonderful statue, standing eerily sentinal at the top of Greenwich Hill, keeping silent watch over the town. Although he wasn't actually born in Greenwich, he was brought up and lived here, and the town is littered with Wolfe-abilia.

Wolfe was the classic action man - the Sylvester Stallone of Greenwich - always on the move, always itching to get going, always striding in where, perhaps, if he'd thought it through, he might have been a bit more circumspect. At least one brigadier thought he was bonkers, and said so within the earshot of George II. The King retorted "Mad is he? Then I hope he will bite some of my other generals."

On the other hand, he wasn't all Rambo. There was definitely some Tom Hanks in him. When fighting at Culloden, he defied his commanding officer, by refusing to shoot a wounded Highlander, saying that his honour was worth more than his commission. A metaphorically square-jawed hero, then, even if, bless him, his was not a face best reproduced in profile...

Born in Westerham, he moved to Greenwich at twelve years old, when his parents bought MacCartney House. It's still there, one of the Phantom's fantasy residences, all wisteria-covered and leafy, backing onto the Park. There's a blue plaque on the wall, but I'll leave the house itself for another day - it deserves a post of its own. He lived here in between being a hero at various wars - you know - sort you've heard of but couldn't actually say what they were about. He was a soldier's soldier - and as the campaigns continued he became well-respected by all (including the Scots, who'd not forgotten his gallant behaviour at Culloden) even if many privately thought he was a few troops short of a batallion.

Of course, what he's really famous for is his heroic victory (and death) at Quebec. Wolfe shares with Nelson the dubious honour of being mortally wounded just at the point of National Supremacy, thus securing him eternal hero status.

Imagine the scene in the classic heist/war/intelligence movie. You know - the "It can't be done" moment, where, in the tent of the commanding officer, someone important tells the hero all the obstacles that lie in the face of success. There has been stalemate for three months as the British holds Quebec in siege. The fortress, even if you could get into it, is built like the Chateau D'If, but it is surrounded by deadly waters and unclimbable cliffs. If you get past the cliffs, there are several cannons aimed straight at you. And if you get past all that, there's still a vast number of highly trained Canadian troops waiting to bayonet you at their convenience. (For a more European-cinema version of the story, check out Benedict in the comments section, but for now, I'm sticking to the Hollywood Hokum, 'cause it's more fun to write.)

As in all the best Hollywood Saturday-nighters, Wolfe wasn't having any of that. By now, he was George Clooney. In a dazzling montage of derring-do, Wolfe and his troops crept along a secret path in the dead of night and scaled the cliffs below the towering fortress of Quebec. After a thrilling climax of buckling and swash, they captured the castle, thus securing British interests. But by now, he was John Wayne. In slow-motion closeup, accompanied by stirring classical music, a bullet struck him in the chest.

Of course, he was allowed a death-scene close-up, supported by grieving soldiers. His final words were, of the enemy, "What - do they run already? Then I die happy."

He was brought back to Greenwich where his body lay in state; a national hero. It somehow seems a shame that when, a quarter of a century later another national hero also lay in state in Greenwich, Admiral Lord Nelson managed to eclipse his illustrious forbear (though Wolfe does still have, like Nelson, a fan club. The Wolfe Society, much like the 1805 Society, meets annually for a formal dinner, celebrating his Pious and Immortal Memory. I intend to find out more about this curious club...)

James Wolfe is buried in St Alfege's Church. Don't bother trying to find him in the graveyard; he's in the crypt, which is another one of those places I'd like to see on London Open House Day...

A word about the statue. There had been murmurings of a there needing to be an eye-catcher at the top of the hill for some time - and in its day, potential subject matter received as many column inches as the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square today. One of the suggestions included a 200ft colossus of Britannia. The final sculpture is by Dr Tait Mackenzie and wasn't actually unveiled until 1930, though perhaps the time-lapse was a good thing, given the unveling was done by the Marquis de Montcalm, a direct descedant of Wolfe's opponent at that final siege.

The monument was rather near the business-end of a bomb in WWII, the results of which can still be seen on the plinth, making General James Wolfe possibly the only British soldier to have received schrapnel wounds in major wars 200 years apart.

For some time I found the cloaked silhouette with swashbuckling boots and mysterious tricorn hat slightly sinister, but now I can only see his as a benign presence.

In my imagination, on a clear, starry night, I see him hop off his plinth, stride down the hill and vault those wrought iron gates, before silently patrolling the Greenwich streets, righting wrongs and fighting the never-ending battle for Truth, Justice and Bugsby's Way.

I like to think he wouldn't mind too much my nicking his image for my own phantsamagorical purposes...

Greenwich Cablevision

Paul asks:

I found an intriguing reference last night in a book called "I Never Knew that About London" by Christopher Winn to the fact (apparently) that Greenwich was the subject of the first pay TV channel, Greenwich Cablevision. Apparently it began broadcasting from a studio in Plumstead on 3 July 1972 and its first programme was about everday life in Greenwich at the time. I would love to see the programme. Ever heard of it? Seen it? Any ideas on sourcing it? If not, I may go to Mr Winn's publishers to ask.

The Phantom is flummoxed.

Blimey - I'd never even heard of it. But it sounds intriguing indeed. Wow - I'd like to see that too.

I would say your best bet for a first-stop would be the Heritage Centre or the Borough Museum at Plumstead - they may have it - though of course it could be on some long-lost tape format and unwatchable now. Your enquiry might prompt them to digitise it while it's still available (though actually still in copyright so there might be some iffy implications.) Sadly I don't think there's a TV equivalent of the British Library - where you have to legally deposit a copy of broadcast material.

Perhaps the BFI could help though?

Do keep me posted on this intriguing Greenwich first...

The Phantom's Little Black Book

I am always being asked for the names of really excellent tradespeople in Greenwich. So, due to popular demand, I've decided to create The Phantom's Little Black Book - a specifically non-exhaustive weblist of people that have either done exceptional work for me, my friends, or people I really trust. And I'm looking for entries now.

I'm not interested in just doing a list of services that people think 'aren't too bad,' or that just 'did the job.' I want the tradespeople that go that extra mile - the guys you can really put your hand on your heart and say you would recommend to your best friend. I don't care how short the list is as long as, hopefully, it's a worthwhile one.

I'm afraid I'm just about to be a bit exclusive now though. In order to make this work (and so I don't get any dodgy builders sending me glowing recommendations for themselves) I've had to make up a few rules and, newbies, you may get the hump with me at this point.

At the moment, "people I really trust" means those lovely folk who regularly contribute, non-anonymously, to The Phantom's daily blog.

You know who you are. Those of you who put your heads above the parapet and say stuff here on a regular basis. I don't mean real names, of course - just those people who, albeit with a nickname, have a presence here and I can feel I 'know.' Sadly, of course, "Anon" just doesn't cut it...

Tradespeople will be included at my whim, and all will carry the warning that just because they've done good work for me or someone I know doesn't mean they're going to be any good for you. Caveat Emptor...

The site will go live very soon. Look out, too, for the long-promised links section and a somewhat tongue-in-cheek FAQs page. Do let me know what you think. And if you have any suggestions for truly excellent entries, I'd be delighted to hear from you at the usual address...

Natural Wedding Venues

Is it just me or does that title just sound ever-so slightly racy?
But back to the question...

Philippa asks:

My fiancee and I are getting married on the 5th July. We're having our reception at the new site of the Hangar Arts Trust - a giant circus warehouse in Woolwich. To contrast with this, I really want to have a ceremony (more of a blessing and readings than anything legal due to location) somewhere beautiful and natural, like a wood or a garden. I wondered whether you might have any suggestions as to places we could hire or look at?

The Phantom replies:

Congratualtions, Philippa! I'm intrigued about the Hangar Arts Place - I haven't come across it before. I agree that having a contrast is a good idea. Not least because most of the really wild places will be free.

There's always the ancient Oxleas Wood - containing many possible sites within - worth finding a place beforehand and getting someone to meet your guests and lead them there rather than playing hunt-the-venue. Alternatively, if it's a really relaxed affair, you could actually make it a treasure hunt, leaving clues among the bushes and under stones. Just be prepared for people to arrive in dribs and drabs.

The garden at the Royal Observatory is popular - you may be able to hire it - though presumably there will be rather a lot of onlookers.

Talking of onlookers, some friends of mine who are pagans had a handfasting at the stone circle in Hilly Fields Park in Brockley. Since it was a Saturday afternoon in summer, the dress code was thankfully not "skyclad" (phew) but there was still plenty for saucer-eyed small boys on bicycles to enjoy.

There's always the little gorse-filled hollow at the top of Maze Hill - what the whole of Blackheath must have looked like once. There is the occasional burnt-out car there, but mostly it'svery peaceful, quiet and reasonably private.

How about at the foot of Severndroog Castle? Or among the ruins of Lesnes Abbey? In exchange for cash, you might be able to persuade the residents of Trinity Hospital along the Thames Path to let you use their back garden. I don't know. But The Fan Museum's garden is definitely available for hire, and of course, there's an indoors if it rains.

Another indoor place that you might like to look at would be the Winter Gardens at Avery Hill Park in Eltham. Or if you really want to push the boat out, there's always Eltham Palace. It gets very booked up, but Saturdays are reserved for weddings. The gorgeous palace is fabulous and the gardens are also great, but if you want "natural," cross the little wooden bridge and wander into the less heavily tended areas. It's administered by English Heritage, who also hire out Rangers House at extortionate rates.

Charlton House is cheaper (and though not quite as glamorous, still a lovely place. The grounds, if extensive aren't that exciting however.) Hall Place is currently under restoration (though the gardens are eye-popping - the turf maze would have been fun) as is Woodlands House in Westcombe Park (the gardens are nicely shady) but Danson House will be open. The grounds are only so-so but the house is good.

I am sure people will have some more suggestions...

Echoes of Forgotten Gardens - Or Nature's Reclamation Yard?

Something I love about the Peninsula as it stands is the fallow land waiting to be developed. Where once was marsh, then was life and industry, now is a tapestry of brown and green, with flashes of pinks and yellows as the grasses and sedges cover the soil, dappled from time to time with the odd iris or mallow flower.

All this will go soon, the backdrop of the aggregates yard carefully hidden behind, I presume, the 'affordable'-end of the sundry housing schemes, but for now it's a little breath of countryside behind the chainlink Fence Of Doom, guarded by men in dayglo vests and the odd scary dog.

Dotted around, though, flourishing in the poor soil, defiantly waving cream, fluffy heads above tattered newspapers and discarded plastic cups, clumps of what looks remarkably like Pampas Grass still stand as proud as though it were 1976.

A native of the South American Plains and suburban gardens of the 1970s, pampas grass (Cortaderia Selloana if you're being picky) is tough as old boots, which is probably why it survives where no no other domestic plant does. Because it's so inextricably linked with the Margot Leadbetter end of the 70s, it's generally thought a bit naff these days, but somehow it manages to look not just elegant, but even native on that Peninsula.

Is it what's left of the various 'dirty' businesses that once inhabited the area? Perhaps long-lost handkerchiefs of green outside the boss's office of some dead factory - once manicured to high heaven; now left to take off its corsets and spread out. The entire ex-contents of some relocated worker's front garden? To be honest it's so long ago now, I can't quite remember what was where any more.

Of course the other explanation for the sudden clumps of giant sedges is less fanciful, but no less romantic. That this is Nature reclaiming what's hers and seeding once-contaminated land with her own native species; thumbing a disdainful nose at Progress.

Just outside the entrance to the Eco Park, right in among the carefully-planted, tastefully-planned landscape, one of these plants lurks, triffid-like, hoping no one will notice it. I don't know whether it was allowed to stay there, whether it seeded itself or just whether no one else actually ever marked it, but every time I catch sight of it, I rejoice that a little bit of unconventionality still festers just below ground level...


Let's hope that nothing else under the ground there ever surfaces...

Photography Club/Darkroom

Phil asks:

I was wondering if you knew of any local photography clubs that might (quite literally) offer 'development opportunities'?

My wife is a keen photographer but would like to develop her own photos (still in the analogue age!) using a darkroom/enlarger/liquids etc - are there any either in Greenwich or possibly slightly further afield (I would have thought Goldsmiths would have some facilities but I doubt if they're available for use by the public)?

The Phantom replies:

You know, Phil, only in the last week have I seen a local course charmingly described as "analogue photography," but I can't for the life of me remember where. In the meanwhile, though, Greenwich Community College's Greenwich Park site does a couple of courses in traditional photography and printing.

It would be worth talking to the folks at Viewfinder Gallery - they don't, I believe, do courses themselves, but I bet they know of people who do.

Aperture is the Woolwich Photographic Club - founded in 1892, and appears to be very active.

I know there are a lot of photographers who drop by this blog - maybe they can help you further...

Greenwich Inc Branches Out

Tom noticed an interesting feature in yesterday's Telegraph. He notes

"Seems Frank is branching out of Greenwich, which is fair enough, he must be competing with himself now..."

Hmm. All we can do is look on...

Ministry of Spice

Lewisham Road London SE13

With cars, they always say that intermittent faults are the worst kind. You get the thing to the garage and then look a total fool as the mechanic pokes around, sucks through his teeth and finally says there's nothing wrong.

Inconsistency in curries is my equivalent of the motoring annoying on-and-off knocking sound. You tell everyone a place is great, they try it and it's rubbish. Should you go back and try again, just in case it's as good this time as the very first chicken tikka you had there but didn't get last time, or just move on?

Some friends told me they'd just tried this place and had been quite impressed, and since I can't resist the opportunity to test out a new curry house, we all got together last night to have a tasting.

The usual control menu was ordered, of course, plus all sorts of yummy-looking extras, and we sat down with a nice glass to wait.

Time flies when you're having a nice glass, so it was some time before we noticed we still didn't have any curry. I'm trying to remember exactly how long we waited (we had had a couple of extra 'nice glasses') but it was at least an hour and a quarter; probably more like an hour and a half. Perhaps more. Presumably they're either busy or short-staffed or both on a Sunday night.

I have to say now, that nothing was really bad (save, perhaps, the non-specific extra sauces that arrived with the ok-puppodums - they were very strangely flavoured, strangely coloured and tasted suspiciously as though they were straight out of a bottle. Which bottle, I wouldn't like to say.) It just didn't shine. The rice was fresh and the puppodums were crispy (neither of which are a given, of course) but most else was really only adequate.

They'd forgotten to include the onion bhajiis - not worth calling and complaining about, of course, just worth a good grumble amongst ourselves. The meaty starter was good, and the salad (which hadn't been ordered but arrived anyway) was varied and included olives - not very 'traditional curry,' but an enjoyable extra all the same. Also not very traditional, but, I understand, perfectly ok, were some little meatballs. Another side-dish was excellent.

The rest of the sauces, though, were a disappointment. Thin-feeling, with little subtlely in the flavour. One especially, was very sweet, and very hot - but had no real flavour. Our friends agreed that this was nowhere near as good as the one they'd had before which had been so nice they had considered switching allegiances. On the basis of this test, I certainly won't be.

Has anyone else here had Ministry of Spice food? How was it? Did we just get a duff night?

A Potted Old Royal Naval College History...

...for Jack, who asks:

I have tried everwhere 4 info about the Greenwich Hospital in Greenwich Park During the war it was used as an air raid shelter by the local residents my wife being 1 of those. Can u help me please.

The Phantom will try...

The reason why you may have had difficulty finding out about Greenwich Hospital is that it changed its name and became The Royal Naval College in the mid 19th Century - it is currently the OLD Royal Naval College. Although that was about 150 years ago, it's likely that the locals never stopped referring to it as the Hospital in the early and mid 20th Century.

I'm guessing you're not from round here - otherwise you'd have visited these fabulous buildings - they are open to the public nowadays and make a wonderful day out.

In many respects it's a case of 'what would you like to know?' I could write an entire blog about this incredible place - not just one post!! (I frequently write about different aspects of it on here, though. The more you find out about it, the more there is to find out.

I'll give you a general overview for now, but I urge you to try to make a visit to see it for yourself.

It's built on the site of at least two old palaces. The first was built by Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, on top of an old priory, which had been granted in a brief moment of piety by Henry V after he won the battle of Agincourt. After Henry's death, his brother Humphrey swapped some land with the monks and built his palace there. Actually, the monks got quite a good deal - they ended up with better land - even if they would only lose it again later under Henry VIII.

Humphrey's palace was called Bella Court, and he also had a tower built on Greenwich Hill - where the Royal Observatory is now. While he was there he founded a library - which was to become the basis for the Bodliean Library at Oxford. It didn't last. Henry VI's ambitious wife, Margeurite of Anjou, had her eye on Humph's palace and, after accusing his wife of witchcraft (it was claimed she had been sticking pins into mannekins of the King,) 'arrested' Humphrey and he rather too conveniently died.

Marguerite moved in and prettied-up the palace, by now called "Placentia." It became the favourite of the Tudor monarchs - both Henry VIII and Elizabeth I were born and held court there. If you care to wander though this blog you can find some stories of those times in there.

It was beginning to get a bit dog-eared by the time that James came to the throne - he started building what is now the Queens House on the site of Katherine of Aragon's garden and the old palace fell into disrepair.

What really did for the old girl was the Commonwealth. Oliver Cromwell sold off all the valuable stuff in the palace, and allowed his men to vandalise the buildings. On the reformation Charles II decided to build anew and created the first of what would be come the buildings of the Royal Hospital.

It was Queen Mary (of WilliamandMary fame) that really founded the Royal Hospital though, She was shocked at the sight of all the old, crippled sailors hanging around with nowhere to go after serving their country. Her husband indulged her and they took on Sir Christopher Wren as architect (working for nothing, by the way.) Hewanted to pull down everything and build a radical new complex, but he was thwarted, just as he was with his grid-plan London after the Great Fire.

Mary insisted she wanted to keep her palace (The Queen's House) and that she wanted a view down to the river. Her husband wouldn't hear of knocking down the King's House. Wren had to work around those two constraints, but what he came up with was extraordinary - today's wonderful - and arresting sight - best viewed from the river, so if you come, do try to get a boat down from London. Mary died suddenly, though, and her broken-hearted husband carried on in her name. The first pensioners moved in in 1704 during the reign of Queen Anne, who did nothing to the palaces, save pinch one of the ceilings for her best friend's house.

There were a lot of wars around that time - and hence, a lot of disabled seamen, but by 1869, there were fewer wars, fewer pensioners and many of them 'lived out,' ayway, and the hospital closed. It was turned instead, into the Royal Naval College, training young naval cadets. It continued as such, with the addition of the National Maritime Museum in 1934, until 1997, when it, too, closed.

Although part of the University of Greenwich and Trinity College of Music occupy two of the buildings today, much of it is open to the public - the best bits being the wonderful chapel and the exquisite Painted Hall, decorated by Sir James Thornhill.

I've been trying to think which bits would have been safe for sheltering in in the war, and I can only really think of the crypt - the only part that remains of the old medieval palace. I would be terribly grateful to hear any of your wife's memories about sheltering there. There is a lot of material written about really old history - but very little about the 20th Century. If she wouldn't mind, I'd love to know anything she'd like to tell me.

Do try to get to see The Old Royal Naval Hospital. If you go on one of the guided tours they will take you down to the crypt as part of the tour - it's not open otherwise.

A Good Place to Re-locate?

Julia asks:

I currently reside in the U.S. My family will relocate to the UK in the summer and have found GMV as one of our options. I have two small children 3 and 5 years of age. Since my husband will be working in central London, this seemed like an option since school, transportation, and shopping is within walking distance? Would we need a car?

After calling the school in Millennium I was told that there may not be space for my children for the September term. Is there any other areas in Greenwich you could recommend that is near some good primary and nursery care? And besides that would you say it would be a good place to raise small children? Any comments or recommendations regarding my questions or perhaps even other areas that may work for my family would be much appreciated.

The Phantom replies:

Welcome (perhaps) to Greenwich!

Would you need a car. Hmm. I'd say probably not. GMV is stuck out on a limb a bit, but it's on many bus routes and about a ten minute walk to North Greenwich Tube Jubilee Line. It's about a ten minute walk to the nearest supermarket too (there are two within easy walking distance from GMV - at one there's an electrical store and a big DIY shed as well as Sainsburys; over at the ASDA (another supermarket) there's a TK Max, Boots the Chemist, some clothing stores, an HMV, Office World. pet superstore and a stationers.)

You'd have a pretty sad life if you just stuck to those places though - they're not all that nice, just useful. There are buses to Blackheath (a lovely little village, with a Farmers Market on a Sunday and lots of nice eateries, and to Greenwich which - well - you know all about Greenwich, I'm sure. If not, a trawl through this blog should help there...

I heard there's a car sharing scheme on the peninusla but I don't know anything about it.

The best primary school in the area is Halstow Road School, or so my next door neighbour tells me (people with young families may disagree with me there, of course.) I'm sure I read somewhere that it's in the top 100 in Britain, I believe, but even if I have that wrong, competition is fierce. Some people move into the catchment area just to get their children into the school. It's about a ten-fifteen minute walk from GMV, but check to see if you would 'count' if you lived there. Houses in the Halstow Road catchment area are a bit more expensive than GMV, but they tend to have gardens and more space. Obviously that area is FULL of young families.

There is a Steiner School in Westcombe Park, just up the hill from East Greenwich (Westcombe Park or Maze Hill railway stations) and I've heard good things about the General Wolfe School in West Greenwich, (loads of stations, LR and buses) though the housing stock tends to be much more expensive (and very dinky indeed...) You will find a lot of young families there too.

Families are growing in GMV, but because the housing units tend to be smaller, there is less room for spreading out. It's reasonably safe though, and the eco park, views of the river and comparitively large amounts of green open spaces mean there's somewhere to play.

Is it a good area to bring up children? I'll have to open that one up to the floor!

Halcyon Books

1, Greenwich South St, SE10

You know, sometimes a place is so obvious to write about that in my increasingly muddled mind, I think I've already done it. I could have sworn I covered Halcyon Books bloomin' months ago but since I can't find it anywhere, presumably I didn't...

A dying breed, secondhand book shops in Greenwich. We seem to be losing them all, one by one (most recently Marcet Books in the little passageway between Nelson Rd and the market) but one that is clinging on - and still seemingly doing pretty well, is Halcyon in that little row of stores in Greenwich South St that includes Stitches & Daughters (or whatever it turns out to be next) and the Junk Shop.

Handily, whilst googling Halcyon for the exact address, I found a fun competition from abebooks where the prize was visiting 10 booksellers around the world, including Halcyon - my kind of competition. Shame it's finished...

Apparently the owner, Matthew Hubbard, started the business as a stall in the market in 1988, moving to an actual shop in 1995. So it's 20 years old this year. Nice one. Congratulations, Matthew.

I'm always rather suspicious of neat second-hand book shops, but that's not something you can level at Halcyon. While the shelves themselves are pretty well-ordered, there seem to be veritable landslides of volumes at the foot of each section, more than ever just now, waiting, tantalisingly, for space on the racks themselves.

It's bigger than it looks from the outside, going right back into the recesses of the shop, but I'm yet to see a good secondhand bookstore that had enough room for all its stock (at one I know on the south coast you literally climb up piles of books to get to the shelves) and Halcyon, happily, is no exception, bulging at every seam. There's a small local section, a lot of geographical stuff and an enormous amount of military books - hardly surprising, given the history of the area. The classics shelves probably have a little more room now after my own last visit where I cleared them of Trollope. Sorry chaps - but I guess you probably have more. I still need The Warden, btw...

Much of the bog-standard stuff is 'priced to sell,' but very little costs huge amounts (well, not that I've seen.) Staff are friendly and helpful - on my last request they double-checked and then cross-referenced my query. No luck - but that's not the point. They made the effort and believe me, I ask obscure...

From a vibrant selection of secondhand bookshops in Greenwich we have gone to a paltry couple plus a remainder shop and a mega-chain. I did wonder whether Halcyon keep afloat by selling on the internet, but although the domain name is taken, I can't find any website, save a rather obscure bit on abebooks. So for now it's still a proper, hands-on vistors' bookshop. We need to keep visiting to keep it that way...

Romantic Greenwich

Well - it is St Valentine's Day, after all. And The Phantom is going all gooey on you. I am on a quest to find the most romantic place in Greenwich and I want your personal favourites. I don't care where it is - a restaurant, a quiet corner of Greenwich Park, round the back of the bicycle sheds - it just has to be romantic for you.

Lovely stories, Our Song-stylee, optional, but I am looking for geographical specifics. If it's Greenwich Park I want GPS co-ordinates (no, not really - a good description will do). If it's a cosy restaurant, which table is the best? A street? Which corner? The Picturehouse? Which seat? If it's Blackheath Tea Hut, I want to know what time of day/year you love most. If it's the bike sheds - well, ok, you can keep that one to yourselves.

I'm not necessarily talking about relationship-style romance either. Just a Greenwich place that really moves you to think lovely thoughts, that gives you a warm glow inside...

For once, I'll chip in with my own two-penn'orth later, but for now I'll leave you with this picture I took on my sewer-quest last week, of an alarmingly-pruned Leylandii, proving that even bad gardening can be romantic...