The Bouquet Tree

The Bouquet Tree - currently sans-fleurs...

Benedict asks:


"While wondering about the park, I often notice a bouquet and a card left by the big tree in the rose garden. Any ideas as to who what and why this mysterious offering is placed there?"


The Phantom doesn't have a clue - but is sure that there's a wildly romantic and/or tragic tale behind this floral gesture. If anyone knows the real story, let me know, otherwise I might just have to make one up and you know the sort of tripe I come up with when I go off on one...

Views From The Wheel (1)

Lovely pictures are beginning to come the Phantom's way, courtesy of the Wheel, and here are a few of the first. This one's by LGM:

I find it almost impossible to imagine that I actually live just down the road from somewhere that looks like that - it's like some stately home or Versailles or something - I feel that I should be listening to a Purcell voluntary whilst looking at it. And the angle it's taken from makes it look as though the whole thing's set in the countryside...

Methers's pics have taken a slightly different approach. Vanbrugh Castle, a mere dot in the distance, seems at least a little closer here:

And I really love the framing of the Dome by the ironwork of the Wheel.

But what I like best are the angles we get of things that make us look at things in a different way. Take this shot, of the Pepys Centre directly below the Wheel:

I don't know about you, but when I think of the ORNC, I think of angles. I think of mathematical precision, straight lines and rigorous perspective. But what's that building just behind the curvy colonnade in the bottom left corner doing? For starters, I'm not quite sure what it is - it's round the back (I have an inkling, but I need to do some more digging...) but just look at that angle. It doesn't particularly bother me - but it does make me curious. I mean - who decided to put something at such a squiff in a place that is so very rigid in its design? I like to think that it was an individual decision.

I don't know what it is or who built it - but I'm going to find out. I want to know who it was that had a little rebellion one day and built what is effectively a neo-classical shed on the wonk; a little fist of defiance to architectural conformity.

Greenwich Wheel

Since I haven't made it this weekend (I have been doing some splendid other stuff, about which more later...) I've appropriated Greenwich Lalas comments about the new wheel - which include some helpful tips. The photos are courtesy of Dave (naughty Phantom - zero effort on today's post. Must try harder...) Anyway, Greenwich Lalas says:

"I went on Saturday afternoon and queued no more than 10 mins, and was given a gondola with just the two of us in (don't waste your money on a private one, they pretty much will give that to you for free anyway).

I'd say 12 mins is a starting point not a guarantee, they're not overly strict on how long you spend on it. We had more like 15 mins and 4 revolutions on it before the staff unloaded us.

I like it, it looks lovely and is a nice way to spend a little bit of time. But deary me, it's a lot higher than it looks once you're in one of those little pods, swinging away. We were postively queasy for the entire first revolution!"

So - sounds like it's fun and pretty. I am especially looking forward to seeing it at night.

Anyone else been yet?

Lost Emails

I'm very red-faced just now - I've just accidentally deleted about four emails, sent yesterday (Saturday.) If you sent me something yesterday and I haven't replied, chances are I've done something stupid with your mail. Could I ask you to send it again?

Royal Teas Discussion

Folks - I've locked the comments on the Royal Teas discussion - it was turning into a mud-slingery and just going round in circles - and that's not what I'm about. Discussion good. Flaming bad.

Greenwich Park Prods

It's not just the major studios that find Greenwich a draw. I was delighted to see this group of students(?) filming their own music video (?) on this park bench a few days ago.

They got a beat going, then took it in turns to rap - not sure what it was about - I couldn't hear properly - but I wish I could.

If any of you guys are reading this (unlikely, I know) and it's on YouTube or similar - let me know - I'd like to see it...

Water Charges

Lizzie asks:

Every Friday we go to Zin in Trafalgar Road for great value Chinese/Sushi meals.

Today they told us that they charge 50p for a glass of tap water.
Isn't this illegal?

How much more than 50p have they lost in a badwill gesture?

The Phantom replies:

The Phantom-Find-Outer has found this out for me - that if they're licensed to sell alcohol, they cannot refuse to serve you tap water, but they can charge for it, unless there is a special condition in their license.

Interestingly, The Phantom-Find-Outer tells me that under 2005 legislation, under Scottish law they HAVE to provide free tap water.

I agree with you though, Lizzie - this is a short-termist attitude and has not gone unnoticed.

Cautiously Good News

Laura has just sent me a link to today's Standard.

Do you reckon we count as part of the "unprecedented levels of opposition?'

Rock on...

Mark has found the press release for us.

I'm cautiously welcoming this, but I still think we need to keep a beady eye on things.
What do you think, guys?

Moving From Islington to Greenwich

Kelley asks:

We live in Islington now and are looking at buying a flat in Greenwich, on Blackheath Road. I know the Estate agents want to make it sound fantastic, and the flat itself is fab, but what do you say about the location? It's about five minutes from the Greenwich centre, but how about the Lewisham part? Any thoughts about the area?

The Phantom replies:

What a sound move - Islington to Greenwich. I applaud you, Kelley.

Blackheath Road is, I believe, part of the A2, so, be prepared to see traffic jams outside your window on a regular basis, and check the pollution levels. For noise, check the DEFRA noise mapping site ; (thanks Stevie) I'm not sure if there's a corresponding pollution level site.

Contrary to popular belief, there are are whole swathes of 'Lewisham' that are almost posher than Blackheath and Greenwich - where Blackheath and Lewisham merge, it's extremely smart, though the smartness does tail-off as the roads reach the town centre.

Having said that, Lewisham has good shopping - a vibrancy of chains and independents, and stuff going on. I guess it's much like Islington - in that there are swanky areas and really poor bits, though the shopping does tend towards the downmarket - more Chapel Market than Upper Street...

There are good transport links - and in Blackheath Road, you're a cough and a spit from Greenwich town centre (though five minutes would be pushing it unless you're in a car), Blackheath, Deptford (with a great market and a growing artistic community) not to mention The Point (a splendid vista over London) and Greenwich Park.

But go and see the place - and ask around. Try the various local estate agents too.

Good luck moving in such uncertain times...

Underground Greenwich (8) The Snow Well

Cathy asked (an embarrassingly long time ago):

"I recently read a plaque fixed to the old ice house at Holkham Hall in Norfolk which said that one of the earliest such structures in England was the 'snow conserver' built for James I At Greenwich. Any ideas on where it was and what happened to it?"

The Phantom has been pondering on this. It's clearly an early Ice House - which was the ultimate expression of wealth and sophistication in the 17th Century - a way to cool a drink, or create a fabulous dessert out of season to amazeone's guests.

Thing is, I can't find that there was ever one at Greenwich built by James. The first Ice house was introduced in 1660 by King Charles - but in St James' Park - I wonder if some Chinese-whispers have been going on here? Charles enjoyed the first ice cream in 1662, or so the Internet, which is never wrong, tells me. It doesn't tell me where, but I haven't heard of an ice house built in the grounds of the Queen's House.

However, I have also been thinking about a section in A.D. Webster, which does take this back to Greenwich:

"...on the west of The Obeservatory (was called) "Snow Hill" from the Snow Well there."

Apparently this is yet another part of Greenwich's underground heritage (Olympic organisers, take note...) - an old well in an ancient artificial hollow, between Crooms Hill and the Observatory. It's about 26 ft deep (how big is that in 'hands'? Think how many horses you could get in that hole) - the bottom part is lines with 16th Century bricks; higher up they're more recent.

About 4ft from the bottom, a little passage leads off towards St Mary's Gate (that's the main Greenwich entrance.) It's about 4 1/2 feet high and 30 inches wide (a tight fit indeed) but Webster doesn't say how long it is. I assume it's another conduit so it goes some way - perhaps towards the old Stock Well?

I don't think any of this well is visible any more, but the ancient hollow had another use - there used to be a whipping post there for naughty sailors "in frequent use to a late period."

As to how old the hollow is, Webster seems to think that from the name, it could be Roman. Who can tell...

Anyone got any more on this enigma?

Phantom Favourite Front Gardens (10)

Flip sides of a coin today, folks, or, to be more precise, flip sides of a block.

Some of the Phantom's fave front gardens are very formal, others, I just love for their sheer exuberance - and this is one of them.

Here, in King William Walk, just by the Cutty Sark, lives a little house with owners that love to put on a show. Every inch of their garden, despite its having a grille over a basement, is covered in pots and tubs of colourful plants, both bedding and permanent.

Window boxes full of pelagoniums, tall tobacco plants, yuccas, trailers - all sorts, in all sorts of containers, offset by hedging and lush dark greens - and, of course, the fabulous Regency/post Regency buildings. A real joy.


Which makes me all the sadder when I turn the corner into College Approach. Same buildings; perhaps even better setting - but look at it. One measly creeper and a few bin bags, the sum total of front gardenry going on here.

This row of fabulous buildings could look absolutely amazing. But they don't. What a shame.

Old Royal Naval College Allotments

I feel very smug. I couldn't have dreamed that my call a couple of weeks ago, for more allotments to be made available to local gardeners, would be heard by ears in such high quarters...

The Old Royal Naval College most kindly rotovated four new plots yesterday, as you can see from the photos, for what must surely be the world's poshest allotments - and the most sought after kitchen gardens in Greenwich.

Of course they won't come without strings. As they are on a World Heritage Site, these plots will have to be worked within strict guidelines. The theme will be "Kitchen Gardening Through The Ages" and each plot will reflect a different age, growing only crops used in a particular period.

The first, A Tudor Sallat, will recall the days of Good King Hal, and his daughter, Good Queen Bess, with a selection of heritage-variety vegetables and fruit. The lucky allotment holder will also be allowed to keep a Heritage Breed hog. He or she will, of course, be expected to wear breeches, codpiece and/or a farthingale when gardening.

The second plot, The Pensioner's Supper, will include the kind of crops grown in their particular age, including a row or two of hops for the brewery. A delightful plot, they will be wearing full pensioner costume when working the plot during public visiting hours.

The third, and probably most splendid, is to be The Victorian Kitchen Garden - a magnificent array of unusual vegetables, fruit and flowers, often lost to today's plate. Cardoons, anyone? Victorian garb required.

Lastly, the Dig For Victory garden will reflect a life of austerity during WWII. The plot will include the entire allotment's only permitted shed, an original Andersen Shelter.

Gardeners will be expected to conduct educational tours every five minutes to groups of bored schoolchildren.

Demand will clearly be fierce for these four plots and the fairest way to decide which local gardener gets to hold them will be a competition. Apply in writing, in the style of the era you wish to work. The longest and most authentic letter (you can include engravings of yourself in costume if you wish) will be chosen for each allotment. Please bear in mind that the plots will be temporarily taken over each winter for the annual Ice Rink, so the growing of overwintering onions, leeks and cabbages will be curtailed.

The Phantom Gets a Reply From Boris...

...or not, as the case may be. As expected, I got a minion, sending me the email equivilant of a xeroxed reply to my letter about the Equestrian Events in Greenwich Park. I repeat it verbatim:

To whom it may concern

Thank you for contacting the Mayor regarding the use of Greenwich Park for the London 2012 Olympic Equestrian events. However the selection of 2012 sporting venues is solely the responsibility of London's Organising Committee for the Olympic Games (LOCOG) with the agreement of the International Olympic Committee. The Mayor is aware of your concerns about the Park and has asked me to pass them on to LOCOG.

Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic - hand-washing to the Nth degree.

Honestly. I don't know how much more hands-off this new mayor can get short of hot-footing it back to Henley and using a rubber-stamp on the end of a very long pole.

Bones

While I was down checking out the Wheel last night, I ran into yet another film shoot. Fox seemed to have taken over the whole of the ORNC, which appeared to be standing in for Whitehall. Two miserable looking 'sentries' in bearskins stood as sundry meeja types buzzed around what I assume were the stars. I'm guessing they're the girls in the mac and suit.

Being the sad Phantom I am, I had no idea who these people were, so I asked a security guard (always ask the security guards - they love to talk...) what the show was. It's apparently Bones, A Sky 1 series...

Well, there you go. As you can see from the photos, a somewhat smaller affair than Wolfman, but since they're all over the ORNC I'd guess there are lots of scenes being shot at once.

Wheely Happening At Last

This was supposed to be posted yesterday but - well, you know the drill by now. I couldn't upload any pics. But in a way, it's quite good. Edith had sent me some pics of Greenwich Observation Wheel on its way up at last, but in the delay, I've also had some pics from DC07703 and I've been down to look at it myself.

Edith's pictures are fab, but Blogger's only letting me upload one of them:

It looks as though each section is being added, then the wheel turned a bit further on. By the time DC07703 got there, the wheel itself was complete, but without its podules. I particularly like this picture as it looks as though they've used the Maori Memorial as part of the wheel:

DC07703 made the point that the area's so covered in trees "that the first 3 mins and the last 3 mins of the 12min trip you'll be looking into the trees. So It'll only be 6 mins of views."

This bothered me a bit, so I thought I'd pop down to check the tree situation for myself. I got down there about 5.00pm and about two thirds of the pods were in place. I took a long look and came to the conclusion that we'll probably be all right. There are trees, granted, but they're comparatively low, and at around that point I shall be so excited I won't notice. And if it's anything like a wheel I went on in Manchester - it looks exactly the same - then we'll go round several times anyway.

The Greenwich Foundation website still isn't owning up to when it will be opening, but my guess would be that they don't want to miss another weekend, so maybe Friday or even Saturday? See you in the queue...

Fully Funded

Yo! The shipping magnate Sammy Ofer, who gave all that cash to the Maritime Museum a few months ago, has been digging into his pockets again.

He's smashed the piggy bank, checked the back of the sofa and looked in the glove compartments of his sundry cars and scraped together £3.3m to make sure the old girl can complete her restoration.

Ross sent me the link to the BBC News story

I seem to remember being slightly mealy-mouthed about Mr Ofer's last offer, but this one? Well - hooray. The Phantom's smiling now...

The First Phantom Poll

Since Blogger's once again preventing me from showing you some rather fab photos of the Greenwich Observation Wheel going up, I thought we could have a little poll following from this morning's post about Royal Teas.

Raymond Voce and the Men in Grey Suits spent some time discussing whether Raymond's popular Cheesy Beans recipe consitutes 'cooking' or merely 'reheating.' They still didn't come up with a definitive answer.

So I thought I'd conduct a (very scientific, obviously) poll to find out what readers think.

So here's the dish:

Cheesy Beans with Marmite Soldiers.

So that's beans - presumably out of a can.

Cheese. On top. Melted.

Toast.

Marmite.

So. Here is the question for you. Is Raymond cooking the cheese or reheating it? How about the beans? Warming them up or cooking them? And is he 'cooking' toast, or reheating bread rather fiercely on both sides at once?

Your shout.

Due to the vagueries of this site, it's not easy for me to put a poll onto the main Phantom page, (besides, I'm running out of room) so I'm starting a whole new one for polls, serious and not so serious. You'll have to click through to it to make your voice heard. The Phantom Webmaster has very kindly agreed to assimilate the new page into the main site in time.

For now, though, click here to vote...

Royal Teas

Ok - a long - but important one today...

I guess most of you will have heard by now that Royal Teas have finally lost their long-running battle with Greenwich Council over their ability to run the cafe properly - or indeed at all, given the restrictions they will now be put under. If you're anything like me, the thing had been rumbling on so long that you would have thought that the charges had been quietly dropped, but sadly not. Thanks to the small-mindedness of individuals, we are in grave, possibly imminent, danger of losing one of our best cafes.

I don't know about you, but I managed to get myself very confused about this over the years - a bit like when you start watching a situation, then a crisis, then finally a war break out over a period of months in the news. You're drip-fed info on a piecemeal basis - at first it seems like a storm in a Fair Trade teacup and you take little notice. By the time it's got serious, you're already lost in minutiae.

So I dropped a line to Raymond Voce, owner of Royal Teas, to get the record straight, which is why I didn't talk about this as soon as I heard (thanks to everyone who sent me the bad news - I guess I'd always rather know than not.) I'm going to give you pretty much what he told me - the bits in greeny-blue are his words. The rest are mine. This isn't quite over yet and there are things best whispered by a Phantom...

So, for the moment, over to you, Raymond...

"I have been at the cafe since 1999. From the onset I tried to get planning permission to knock down and rebuild our delightful toilet.

After a number of applications I got permission. Two weeks after getting this permission I received a letter from the Council saying I was not allowed to continue cooking on the premises. This is 2002. We appealed this decision and had a hearing at the Council in 2004. Before this we were required to draw up an extraction system for the kitchen, which we did and received a letter back from Environmental Health that our system was acceptable.

So the hearing took place no mention of the system was made by the Inspector during the eight hours - included a site visit - and we didn't bring it up because we thought it was no longer an issue. When we received his report it stated that we had lost and the majority of it was about how our proposed extraction system was not good enough. We felt that the
Inspector was at fault because to our minds his job is to ensure all the relevant points are discussed which he didn't do.

We had no chance to put our points across re this system. So we felt we didn't have a fair hearing and took this matter to the high court.

Are you still with me? I know, it is kind of boring. We lost at the High Court last year. The judge said we should have known the extraction system was always an issue. Incidentally, this took so long to be heard because Greenwich Council took forever to get their paperwork in.

We next applied to the Court of Appeal. An intermediate judge gave the go ahead as he was very concerned about the Councils behaviour. That takes us up to last week where we once again lost.

This time the conclusion was that if I had represented myself at the original Council hearing I would have had a very good case against the Inspector but as I took along a planning consultant - a professional - the onus was on him to raise any appropriate points. So how I see it is, the Inspector's job changes dependent on who else is there.

Doesn't seem right. Our Barrister is thinking of challenging this decision in the House of Lords - our case has now set this new precedent. It never ends!

Back back back.

The Inspectors report when dissing our extraction system made references to Public Services division section blah point blah. None of us had heard of them and it took a number attempts ringing the Council to find out who they were.

Well, they no longer existed and were superseded by two Environmental Health Departments. We had only got approval for the system from one of them. You would have thought that when we sent the plans to the address we were given by planning that they would ensure all relevant departments would see it. My point being with regards to the Court of Appeal decision, the planning Department itself didn't seem to know about this Public Services Department and the two new strands of the Environmental Department so how would an outsider, even if he is a 'professional,'know?"

Phantom, here, guys...

So anyway, While all this was going on, various individuals started coming out of the woodwork. People living around, complaining. So we basically have people moving in right slap bang over/next to a cafe and complaining they live right-slap bang over/next to a cafe. Raymond points out:

"At no other time have we received any other written complaints while I have been there."

Eventually the cafe got permission to extend - it's not very big - really just to improve that toilet (though I have to say as tiny, creaky old loos go, I don't hate it - there are far worse I could mention...) and maybe get an extra table (some pushchair space for those sodding buggies would do me.)But as Raymond says

"Obviously I can't spend that sort of money while this uncertainty is hanging."

So these individuals turned to moaning about the cooking smells. The main problem seems to be with the hideous smell of bacon. From a vegetarian cafe. Nice one.

Raymond Voce, admits that "Royal Teas does have a 'no cooking' condition attached to it."

But - and stay with us here - "because we have no commercial equipment and the soups and lunches we make are done in bulk and then reheated as ordered we were able to continue. We had over the years any number of people from Planning down and we were told just not to extend the menu, which we never have.

After getting permission for the extension it seems someone saw our file and encouraged the Council to take action even though we had been doing this since 1990."

The sundry individuals who hadn't noticed that they'd moved in next to a cafe, suddenly had the shock of their lives. Heavens! It seems they'd accidentally moved in by a pub too!!! That pesky pub and naughty cafe were clearly hiding when these people went to view the property. So now, the brewery were involved. Raymond is throwing his hands up here.

"Myself and the tenants at the pub really do our utmost to keep the impact of our businesses minimal to the surrounding area. We are very good neighbours, even if I do say so myself.

So at the Council hearing we applied to remove this 'no cooking' condition or alter it and specify exactly what we would be allowed to produce. Both suggestions were rejected."

So what now? - House of Lords possibly. Just to mention here that the Barrister has acted for us free of charge. He is an angel. The Planning Consultant after the Councils hearing also offered his service free of charge.

I am now in the process of trying to alter the menu. I need to hire a kitchen elsewhere in order to prepare the soups and lunches and I will also have to hire another person. Extra costs that are going to be difficult to cover. At the weekends when we make most of our money 90% of people will have one of the breakfasts that I am no longer able to produce.

At the Council hearing much was made of cooking and reheating and the distinction between the two. I am able to reheat I am told. We spent twenty minutes discussing whether cheesy beans on our menu was cooking or reheating. No conclusion was reached. It is difficult planning a menu when it is so vague as to what I am allowed to do. I have been told by planning that toast is cooking but I have also been told that it is ok for me to bake cakes. Makes no sense to me. We are listed as a tearoom and coffee shop surely I should be allowed to make toast."

What to do, folks? It worries me that some kind of nasty legal precedent seems to have been set here, allowing mean individuals up and down the country to move in next to places and then force them to change because they don't like it. All I can say is that I hope Raymond doesn't give up on the legal process. I don't believe he intends to.

"I love the cafe and our customers are great. There are not enough independent cafes as it is and so every effort will be made by us to keep this one going."

Here's one thought, Raymond - though it's not a cheap one...

As a dedicated East Greenwich-er, I have to tramp through the Park (what a hardship) to get to you. There's a lovely empty shop next door to Theatre of Wine (opposite the Arches) - why not have that as your "cooking facilities" - let's face it - no one can complain about the smell - it used to be a fish shop. At the same time, open it as Royal Teas II (or some other wonderful pun - I'm sure my readers will come up with some corkers for you) - and maybe a lovely wine-tasting shop in the evening, in conjunction with ToW????

Ok, I'll take my Phantom Fantasy Hat off now. Good luck.

In the name of Fairness, if any of those individuals who've been moaning about having moved into a place next door to a cafe and pub that were hiding when they viewed their new gaff want to tell me their side of the story, I'd LOVE to hear it...

Swings And Roundabouts

I just have to crow a little.

Boo! I just got sent on a 120 mile round-trip for Real Work which ended up in absolutely nothing. A complete wild goose chase and a wasted day on a busy week.

Hooray! I discovered a secondhand bookstore on my way home, where I found both volumes of The Rev. A. G. L'Estrange's sizzling classic The Palace and the Hospital - Chronicles of Greenwich, written in 1886. I confess I'd only vaguely heard of it, but it looks great - appearing to be a fascinating mix of hard fact, dodgy speculation, Victorian whimsy and salacious gossip. My kind of book. I shall be sharing snippets and clippits with you as I enjoy them.

Not only that, I found an original and pleasingly well-thumbed copy of Baedecker's 1908 Handbook for London. I had been considering buying the 1900 version in reprint (Old House Books, a company worth investigating if you like difficult-to-find old books) but one that has clearly been used, complete with some rather strange newspaper clippings attached with a glass headed pin in the front is much more romantic.

So. A poor day for earning money. A good day for spending it.

Rear Window, Greenwich Style (3)

Third in the nosy series where we look at Greenwich through other people's windows, and today, our reverse Through The Keyhole, has us peeping out of the upstairs of Dave's place.

The first picture is out of Dave's bathroom window - and it's just the sort of thing I'm looking for in this series. Not everyone looks out on The Old Royal Naval College or the Thames. Most of us get a much more personal image of our town - secret, even.

This is the sort of thing that will get lost in history. I have spent a looooong time trying to find any old pictures of my own road - and despite driving the people at the Heritage Centre potty, all I could find was one - and even that was wrongly labelled.

Dave doesn't say exactly where he is, though I'm guessing somewhere around Pelton Road, from the pics. He mentions that this view is going to change considerably when the Lovell's Wharf development starts to change shape. So these pictures are a little piece of Greenwich ephemera - and I love them.

Keep 'em coming in, folks. Thanks for all those sent so far - I'll be posting them all - but there's always room for more...

An Unfortunate Incident...

...or The Phantom, The Food Waggon and The Very Messy Pie...

I have lost count of the number of you lovely people who have been telling me that Goddards Pies have managed to survive, despite being bought out of their lovely old shop by The Gourmet Burger people. I can understand their doing it and though selling pies out of a van could be seen as a step down, they are at least still going.

I was determined to try them out again before writing about it, and it's taken me all this time (a good few months) to get round to it. Time seems to be very short just now.

So. There we were, hungry, and in the tiny food-courty bit sandwiched by the bank and the railway line in Greenwich Church Street. A perfect opportunity to test Goddards at last.

They still do much the same range as before - all the old favourites (including rhubarb crumble, hooray.) And they're still as jolly and friendly as ever. We bought a selection, found ourselves a bench at the back (interestingly, although it was a Saturday, lunchtime, heaving outside and not tipping with rain there was loads of space) and dug in.

And yes, the stuff's pretty much the same as ever. With one exception. It's all ridiculously hot. I guess they have to keep it piping and you do have to eat it with your fingers these days instead of with a knife and fork, but this is something else.

It was all going pretty well until I bit into the cheese and onion pie. Now - I know I didn't have too many of them back in the days of the shop, but was it really just a sort of searing-hot goo in the olden times? This was like a cheesy version of instant mash potato when it's been made up with too much water.

I'll give you tasty. The actual flavour wasn't bad at at all. But it started to seep, then rain scorching spud all over me. I'd taken a paper napkin, so I was able to mop up as I went along, but once I'd got past the pastry, it all collapsed, covering me with red- hot (and very wet) potato.

Apart from the incredible pain, it was the shame that got me. A Phantom with red-hot potato smarmed all over their mush is not a pretty sight. Trouble was, by this time my napkin was already covered with cheesy pie innards, so the more I dabbed at the goo dribbling down my chin, the more I covered the rest of my face. It went on my nose, my cheeks, my lips - everywhere. My companions found it extremely amusing until they realised that my face was burning underneath. They got me more paper tissues and I cleaned up. It took about half an hour for the red marks to die down.

So. Here's my advice. By all means go to Goddards. And enjoy the lovely meaty/fruity/cheesy pies. Enjoy the friendly banter. But take lots of paper napkins and wear old clothes. Carrying some soothing ointment as a precaution may not go amiss.

The Windmill's Not For Turning

Nat sent me these pictures some time ago, but it was the old story - Blogger wasn't letting me upload pics at the time and I proceeded to forget all about them.

When Sainsburys took away the old windmills from their flagship store on the Peninsula (better known to us as the Telly-Tubby Sainsburys, of course) I assumed that that was that.

I mean they'd already removed the electric-car charging points (though to be honest I'd never seen anyone using them and who knows - perhaps they are better off as diagonal parking spaces for 4x4 drivers who are too important to find an actual bay) and as far as I could see the only thing the windmills and solar panels ever did was provide the lighting for the advertising banners below.

But they're back - and with a new vertical design. Gwladys Street just happened to be doing a spot of shopping back in May, whilst they were going up under the cloak of night, and like all good Friends of The Phantom, (sounds like some kind of euphemism, doesn't it..) happened to have brought along a camera:

Very occasionally they're spinning round, usually not. Sometimes they take it in turns. But - and this is most interesting - there are no posters beneath them this time.

So what do they actually do? What are they actually for? And, come to think of it, just how eco-friendly is that store, for all its grass walls and funky fanlights? I have no idea.

It all put me to mind of George Monbiot's book Heat, in which he discusses Sainsbury's claims to eco-friendliness. He quotes the supermarket boasting of "an earth cooling system for air conditioning, natural light from north-facing windows, a gas-fired combined heat and power station, solar panels and two wind turbines," and points out that if this kind of efficiency was rolled out across the board, massive savings in energy could be made.

He goes on to talk about those infamous turbines:

"The only firm figures I can find for this 'watershed in supermarket architecture' give me further cause for suspicion. The store's two wind turbines, which Sainsburys customers see when they enter the car park, are each 3.6 metres in diameter. This suggests, at mean wind speeds of 4 metres per second, that their average combined output is a little over 0.4 kilowatt hours - a microscopic fraction of the power the store must use. Even this is likely to be generous, as they stand just 12 metres from the ground, and their poles support advertising hoardings, which must create turbulence."

Well, George. The good news is that the ads are gone. The bad news is that in the months the new turbines have been up, they've been turning less often than the Greenwich Wheel is just now. I'm guessing their output is currently pretty much zero. And in Sainsbury's latest refit, where perfectly good wood cladding was chucked out for shiny new stuff, the turf outside was laid so badly, and on such a hot day that it all collapsed down the hill and became frazzled; at a time when they actually had an opportunity to make a serious difference in carbon emissions, they didn't. Those sodding fridges and freezers are STILL open to the atmosphere, permanently engaged in battle with the in-store heating.

I wouldn't leave the Phantom Household freezer door open - and I'm convinced that nor would supermarkets if they didn't think they'd lose custom to their rivals from shoppers too lazy to open a fridge door.

In Heat, Monbiot talks to an anonymous retailer who used the frankly pathetic excuse that the doors would mist up if purchasers opened the fridges and other people wouldn't be able to see the goods. I assume they haven't heard of labels (or photos of the items if they're really scared they'll lose the illiterate shopper.)

In my humble opinion, the only way around that particular impasse is legislation - a sledgehammer to crack a nut, perhaps, but if ALL supermarkets were forced to put doors on fridges/freezers, I'm sure they'd secretly love it - I mean it would cut their costs overnight...

George Monbiot is deeply circumspect about Sainsbury's data. He says:

"My researcher contacted J. Sainsbury three times, hoping to obtain operational figures, and to discover whether or not they had been independently audited. Six months later we are still waiting for a response."

Since the book came out in 2006, I thought I'd drop George a line to see whether he ever did hear from Sainsburys. After all, if I can manage a thank-you letter to Scary Auntie Phantom for my Christmas Woolly by May, surely Sainsburys can come up with a few sums in two years. His reply? Short and with just a little regret - after all - this store should have been a big move forward.

"I am afraid I never received a response from them."

Hmmm.

Pre-refit Sainsburys complete with old turbines...

Fastest Thing on Heels

This would normally go in the Parish News Section, but it made me smile and - hey - it's my blog...

August 16th sees the third annual Drag Race. If anyone's ever been to one, you'll know it's a night of enjoyable chaos, where the fastest girlie in a skirt doesn't get all the prizes. Everyone starts at the Rose & Crown, where costumes are admired, entertainment is purveyed and 'health beverages' consumed before the racers get to bend over the blocks...

"We are working with the local LGBT Police liaison officers and neighborhood team to get the roads closed for the race. Also we are trying to work with Greenwich council to get Neveda Street closed for a ‘sort of’ street party," Jackie Foley, one of the organisers, tells me. Proceeds go to the Metro Centre.

And because it's going to be bigger than ever this year, they're looking for runners. Gay, straight, girls, boys, not-sures - the more the merrier. Who knows - perhaps The Phantom will don a gold lame cloak and tricorn and sparkly knee boots...

If this sounds like a hoot, find out more here.

Greenwich Night Pageant (5) Act IV

And so the final act of the biggest Am-Dram Greenwich has ever seen (and will probably ever see.) We've sat through Acts One, Two, Three and Four of The Greenwich Night Pageant and now I'm on the edge of my seat for the final, riveting scenes and the Grand Finale. We start with the funeral of Admiral Lord Nelson...

Everyone who hasn't had a part yet, gets to slum it in this section as the light comes up over a waiting crowd "of the roughest native English type, horse dealers, pickpockets, vendors of milk, buns and every miscellany, even of rat-traps; chimney sweepers and draymen, mingling with the more repurable citizens." At last the door is flung open and they are allowed to file past Nelson's coffin.

I'm snuffling away - if the death of General Wolfe hadn't had me in floods, this would have got me. It gets worse, as, to the strains of Dead March in Saul the funeral procession, led by the Lady Mayoress, walks down to the King's Steps and away to London. The man behind me hisses at me to shut up. I give him A Look.

Nelson's barge leaves Greenwich and I give my nose one last blow.

Phew. What I really need after all that is a good shanty to cheer me up. It's almost as if Arthur Bryant's heard me as a douty chorus of jolly jack tars sing what has to be every shanty known to seaman. We are treated to Barnacle Bill, Spanish Ladies, Blow the Man Down (complete with blown-down man) Nancy Lee... I join in lustily, feeling much better.

You know, I had assumed that we'd already had the Obligatory Surreal Moment every amateur show produces when you really don't have a clue what's going on, so perhaps the next bit, depicting The Great War, is the Obligatory Creepy Moment instead. Amongst 'ominous flames and shadows' comes a battalion of Robot Soldiers. Their leader is Death. There is an Unpleasant Moment and then all Hell lets loose...

To be honest there isn't really a satisfctory ending to this bit - a single figure in Naval uniform stands at the top of the steps and blows a bugle, instantly ceasing the racket of machine gun fire and bombs. It's all very symbolic; I'm just not sure what it's symbolic of, given the whole history-thing.

The Grand Finale is a cavalcade of historic figures re-enacting the best bits from each of their scenes, to the tune of Sir Henry Wood's Fantasy on British Sea Songs, but I can't really hear any of it, I'm cheering so much. It's all been fantastic.


A sonorous chord sounds long and loud and we all stand to attention for The King. What a night. What a crowd. And what a coup for Vice Admiral Sir Barry Domville, CB, CMG, President of The Royal Naval College. A shame really, how he turned out. But that's for another day...

Greenwich Night Pageant (4) Act III

When George in pudding-time came o'er

And moderate men looked big, Sir

My politics I changed once more

And so became a Whig, Sir...

"Psst! What's pudding time?" I stage-whisper to the man behind me.

"Sssh!"

I bet he's cross 'cause he doesn't know. I'll check it in the library when I get home.* In the meanwhile the promised puddings don't seem to have materialised in Act III of 1933's glorious Greenwich Night Pageant. Instead we get two bunches of richly-dressed nobles in a face-off. Whigs and Torys apparently. The Torys are fed up because the Whigs have brought Hanoverian King George I across.

And sure enough, George I and his gang bowl up along the steps of the river and he plants the Royal Backside into the Royal Sedan Chair to the strains of Purcell's Trumpet Voluntary. My own backside is beginning to remind me that this show's going on a bit and we're only about two thirds of the way through. These fireworks for the king's birthday had better be good.

Flash! Whoosh! Bang!

Hmm. Not bad. But what's this? A whole troop of ballet dancers dressed as swans? Well, I guess it's making as much sense as much of this spectacle. Bring 'em on. They twinkle about the stage. We all applaud politely. I'm getting bumache here.

Hang on. Things are looking up. It's the interlude, and the heroic life of General Wolfe!

We see him leaving his house in Greenwich, saying farewell to his dad and girlfriend, then we are treated to a thrilling series of tableaux depicting his life. We see "Red Indian sharp shooters" with feathers and tomahawks. We see lots of firing of muskets and cannon, loads of smoke and the daring assault on Quebec, to the rousing music of Handel's Occasional Overture.

It's all very exciting. "The French start to shoot before the English in fierce, ragged volleys; then at a word of command, the latter raise their muskets to their shoulders and fire with drill-like precision," my programme tells me. Hurrah! The English have won the day without breaking a sweat! The gunfire and smoke fade to darkness.

But hold. What is this? Our Hero, lying wounded upon the ground, surrounded by his gallant men. "The frail figure lurches; then drops into the arms of his officers."

"Oh! Canada!"

As the spotlight holds upon the dying Wolfe, I'm sobbing so loudly that the man behind me kicks me in the cloak. I shoot him such a look. The man has no feeling at all.

The little group slowly rises to reveal the Flag of British Canada. I sob even more loudly. What a show.

Glancing ahead in my programme I get the horrible feeling that my tears aren't over yet. I have to take a break while I search my pockets for a fresh hanky, for the final Act tomorrow, "Nelson Goes Home..."

*I'm still having problems working out what pudding time is. From what I can gather the phrase (from the political song The Vicar of Bray) refers to a time of life - i.e. the sweet time, that one has been waiting for - the Whigs had bided their time, waiting for the political tide to turn) but I'm not betting on it. Other interpretations will be gratefully received.

No Wheels On My Waggon...

Bad news, folks.

An anonymous journalist tip-off (oooh-er!) has just informed me that this Saturday's grand opening of the Greenwich Observation Wheel has had to be postponed.

From what I can gather, it's got itself stuck in The Hague, so hasn't actually arrived yet.

As regular readers will know, I've been hopping from foot to foot waiting for this particular circus to come to town, and here in the Phantom Household, we're all mega-disappointed.

Poor old Greenwich Foundation. Hope they're insured. I feel sorry for them - it makes them look flaky when I can only assume that it's those dastardly Dutch. They just can't bear to part with it.

My contact doesn't know when we'll finally wrest it from Netherlandish hands, but in the meanwhile, don't go down there on Saturday hoping for a ride into the skies...

Greenwich Night Pageant (3) Act II

Phew. Just squeaked back into my seat in time, bag of boiled sweets in one hand, cup of Mazawattee in the other. The guy behind me gave me a black look as I squeezed in. I offered him a sherbet lemon. He declined. Huh. Some people...

So. We've been feasting our senses here tonight at the Greenwich Night Pageant, having travelled back in time to 1933. We've hugely enjoyed the pomp and glory of Act I and we're just waiting for the next tableau to roll out before our eyes. This one looks a bit grim. It's entitled The Tragic King, so I'm not expecting much in the way of laughs. Hope it doesn't go on too long.

Ah - here we go. The announcer's speaking...

"Somber and rich, the skies
Great glooms and starry plains
Gently the night wind sights
Else a vast silence reigns" etc. etc.

Aha, here come Charles I and his lady wife, attended by multiple gentlemen and ladies of the court. They have young Charles II with them and all is lovely. But what's this? A ballet! And The Tempest at that. Stormy times are ahead and no mistake, guv'nor. Cavaliers and roundheads march about the stage while the band plays Cavalier songs.

I root around the bag for a rhubarb & custard. The man behind me coughs in an annoyed fashion. A grim bell starts to toll and the announcer speak sonorously:

That thence the Royal actor borne
The tragic scaffold might adorn
While round the armed bands
Did clap their bloody hands" etc. etc.

Cor. I shuffle forward in my seat to get a better view, but they're not going to actually show the royal decapitation. We just get a bunch of women in black and a snow effect. What a swizz. A horseman gallops into view and announces the king's death. A woman faints, clearly enjoying her fifteen seconds of fame.

Sundry psalms are sung while The Bad Guys^TM ransack the palace.

I don't quite get what happens next. The urchins of the town gradually take over the roundheads singing rousing Cavalier songs until they take over. There's a slightly muddled bit where all the people who haven't had parts yet mill around, playing tinkers, peddlers, jugglers, merry-andrews (whatever they are) and "all the wandering gipsy crowd..."

Comedy stuff goes on. All very colourful and great fun. I suck three acid drops and a bullseye. I'm not getting this at all, but it doesn't seem to matter.

We are treated to a marvellous morris dance, which sets the scene for that inexplicable character General Monk. For the purposes of this pageant, he's a Royalist through and through and saves the day. We're treated to lots of marching and silhouetted pikemen.

Huzzah! Huzzah! King Charles II is back! And history seems to be back on course.

That bullseye was a mistake. Now everything tastes of aniseed. I'm going to nip out and get a cup of tea to try to clear my mouth.

Act III is intriguingly called 'Pudding Time.' If I'm going to manage pudding on top of all that whitebait, tea and sweeties, I'll need to psych-up. Try to contain your excitement. See you tomorrow for a fete galante, a trumpet voluntary and George II's birthday...

How Much Is That Doggy In The Window?

Lula asks:

I wondered if you or your readers could let me know of any local dog rescue centres other than the battersea big type places? We're struggling to find anywhere without driving for hours!

The Phantom replies:

I'm delighted you want to give a pet a second chance, Lula. I know Battersea seems a long way to go, but they do have the largest selection of furry friends that need new homes. If it's driving in London you don't care for, they have a branch at Brands Hatch which although is probably slightly further is at least not through town.

The RSPCA South East London Branch has a rehoming section too. It's also worth asking your local vet - sometimes they have notices in the waiting room, or the vets themselves know of an animal that needs a new family.

If you've a hankering to other pets, you could look at the Greenwich Branch of the Cats Protection League or Greenwich Rabbit Rescue (turn the sound down on your computer when you visit this site - the music's very loud.)

Happy Adopting.