Dwarf Orchard Pictures

Have you noticed that there are virtually no pictures of the Dwarf Orchard? I don't just mean on the internet, I mean full-stop. I've ploughed through books old and new and - zilch. Not even old photos or drawings of how it would have been in its heyday.

I'm not saying there aren't any - just that I can't find them. I think I found two online. When that little flurry of work that started back in the spring began (which, if any of the organisers are reading, many of us couldn't make because it was on a weekday, not because we didn't care...) I had hoped for a few in the local papers.

Now admittedly I don't get the local papers, so I have to either look at other people's or go to the library, and, hands up, I don't always bother (I know, I know, I'm missing thrills and excitement beyond imagination...) but the only pics I saw were closeups of the people doing the clearing, which is nice, but...

Maybe there isn't much to see, maybe it looks exactly the same as every other bit of abandoned formal garden gone back to nature (the best of those, BTW, is the fabulous Warley Place in Essex, about a 25 minute drive away near Brentwood - where wild flowers and creepers have almost entirely consumed the crumbling mansion, leaving tantalising, ferny caves, mosaic-ed floors, sunken rooms and my favourite walled garden ever - seventy/thirty wild/formal.) But I still want to know what's behind those walls.

I'm sure I was once sent some plans of what they intend for the place - but I can't find them. One thing I read was that it was going back, as far as possible, to being formal, another that it was being turned into the dreaded 'community garden.' Anyone who's ever been to Warley might make the argument to more or less leave it as it is, controlled chaos.

Julia lives opposite, and promised to send me some pics, taken from pretty much literally over the wall. We have her to thank for these first images of what's inside what has to be Greenwich Park's most secret area.

For the moment, these are the best we'll get. There's definitely been some clearing; I don't know if it's still going on or it's stalled (hope not...) I would like to know if there's anything of the original left - bits of masonry - very old fruit trees - formal plants gone wild - hard to see from these pics, lovely as they are.

Did anyone join in with the volunteers in the Spring? I'd love to know what's there, what's planned, what's happening...

Not At Risk. No, Really. Honest.

According to a survey by English Heritage released today, one in seven conservation areas in London are 'at risk' - mainly from "neglect, decay or damaging change."

You know the sort of thing - dodgy extensions, icky 'improvements,' street clutter, the wholesale paving-over of front gardens, giant advertisement hoardings, nasty front dormers, yada, yada. EH's biggest bugbear is plastic windows and doors.

"Hm," I thought to myself. "I can think of a few 'additions' to some local conservation areas. I'll look up the results and see just how bad we are..."

Hold onto your hats, folks. Greenwich is squeaky-clean.

What? Not a single conservation area in the whole of Greenwich borough at risk? Heavens. What paragons of heritage preservation we must be after all. I must have just been imagining that front-dormer in Humber Road...

It was only when I looked a little further, that I started to smell a rat. English Heritage got their results by contacting councils and asking them if there was anything wrong with their lovely conservation areas. Simon Thurley, (CEO of EH) was "delighted that 75% responded..."

Let's look at the possible meanings of our own fair borough's omission from the list.

Number One. The Bucolic Greenwich Scenario. We really do have completely healthy conservation areas, every development in these spots is utterly gorgeous to look at and we live in an Arcadian Dream.

Aw, c'mon. It's possible...

Number Two. The Oops-I-knew-there-was-something-I-meant-to-do Scenario. Greenwich Council couldn't be bothered forgot to fill in the form. Well - at least they're not alone - a quarter of councils did the same thing.

Number Three. The Nothing-to-see-here Scenario. Surely Greenwich Council wouldn't lie about the state of our conservation areas? After all we're not at any kind of risk of losing our World Heritage status, are we.

Nah. It's got to be Number One. It's just got to be.

What's your favourite 'addition' to a conservation area? Remember it has to be a conservation area, so sadly my all-time favourite conversion, to adjoining properties on the corner of Halstow and Chevening Roads - so extraordinary that it's made its way into a Harper Collins book on period property, and worth making a special trip just to witness (sorry - I've never had my camera whenever I've been that way), doesn't count...

Flaming June

A simple post today, courtesy of Stevie (well, ok, the bland one above's by me...) When I visited Rangers House Rose Garden a couple of weeks ago, it wasn't quite ready, but with the warm weather we've been having, things have come on apace.

I don't know what any of these particular roses are, but at the south end of the path, there's a plan with all the varieties listed, even down to the ones in the stone urns.

So - get on out there, stand in the middle, near that little meadow-y part that has the big tree (the one that often has little memorials underneath it...) and breath deeply, folks.

Different to Wednesday's limes, but just as heady. We Londoners have to enjoy pleasant smells while we can - they don't come along too often...

Fleeting Moments Of Scents

In my last gaff I used to hate lime trees. This was because the only place I could park was underneath one and between April and October every year my windscreen was covered in sticky, gooey 'dew.'*

I was such a grumpy Phantom as I tried to sponge off the mess that I never once noticed what lime blossom actually smells like - a little piece of Heaven. It took a trip to the Cotswolds in July one year to really appreciate it. Now I actively seek it out.

Folks, may I suggest that some time in the very near future, you take a wander through Greenwich Park and stand underneath a lime tree? (Not for too long if you don't want to get very sticky...) The one at the top of this post is just inside the main entrance and is laden with pretty little understated pale-green flowers now. Stand below and take a sniff. It's wonderful.

If that's not enough, try the mock-orange blossom a little way past the herb garden. There are also a couple by Gloucester Circus's railings.

I know. I'm a soppy Phantom today. So shoot me...

*Actually aphid-excrement. Nice.

Country Lanes (5)

Travelling north across the water (or to be more precise under the water) today, over onto the Isle of Dogs for this view of Greenwich that looks like it's in the middle of the countryside.

Before we get there, though, I should mention something that Ianvisits flagged up the other day - that for some bonkers reason, it has been decided that no photography is to be allowed in the foot tunnel any more. Not just flash photography, which might have some slim H&S reasoning behind it as being a bit of a surprise to a naughty cyclist whizzing through too fast, no. This is all photography, full stop.

Of course this is not as bad as it could have been - banning Champagne would be a serious bar to future scientific progress, but it still seems a ridiculous regulation (though, frankly, easily ignored - would-be civil disobeyers can just take pictures outside elevator-hours) for no readily-understandable purpose.

I will, in the next few days, be bringing you a similar slightly-sinister ruling, this time by Greenwich Council, that I've just learned about, but for now, lets move to sweeter pastures.

Island Gardens is, in many people's opinions, the best view of Greenwich (as opposed to from Greenwich.) But there's a footpath that runs up the spine of the Canary Wharf peninsula, via Mudchute farm and some rather sweet allotments that also affords some lovely glimpses of the town which is just as much fun in its own way (you can also take a little detour round the sports ground, though don't try some of the 'steps' that lead down to the sports area - they've long deteriorated into mudslides.)

One of these days I'm going to get one of those groovy maps with little arrows that show where I'm talking about, but for now here's a vague Streetmap image to show you where I mean.

At that point you're more or less following the DLR, and it will take you up to Canary Wharf. The whole thing takes about twenty minutes, I'd guess, unless you do as I did and stop off at a dockside bar selling indifferent Spanish drinks at City prices.

Don't forget to keep looking back to see glimpses of Greenwich through the leaves. Ah...

Food For Free

The title, of course, being that of the legendary food-foraging book by Richard Mabey, which I noticed recently has had a makeover with funky pictures and a new format. Ever since well before the credit crunch people have been rediscovering their roots and berries in the hedgerows round here. I was impressed by The London Forager last year but now the skill is becoming a bit more organised.

Transition Westcombe, a group I still don't quite 'get,' but always seems like A Good Thing, is organising a Wild Food Foraging Walk this Sunday 14th June at 2.00pm (maybe they'll bump into Ross MacFarlane's Medical London walk and become a foraging posse...)

I've already done my own foraging for June - and made some splendid-though-I-say-so-myself-who-shouldn't Elderflower Cordial (I'd have made Elderfower Champagne too but I had some last year and it tasted like alcoholic cat-piss.)

The above recipe was really easy to follow; the hardest thing to find wasn't the elderflowers, but the citric acid. Apparently drug dealers buy up bags of it to cut into sundry narcotics and many chemists refuse to sell it any more. I finally found it at a health food shop.

I don't know what all this rain is going to do to those wonderful thick cream curds of blossom, but if you can find some relatively undamaged blooms, start collecting those bottles now...

Views News

Now here's something you won't hear me say very often:

Hooray for the Mayor.

He has restored the width of the protected corridors of vista on 11 classic views in the City - two of which are on our stamping ground.

Ken narrowed the vistas in 2007 - down to 70 metres in some places, so that developers could build skyscrapers in front of famous views, changing them forever. Boris has reversed Ken's decision, saying "We are privileged to enjoy a fabulous architectural heritage and history as we go about our daily lives. We must protect those views at all costs."

Right n'all.

So The Phantom's General Wolfe's famous view from Observatory Hill now has the much more generous vista of 300m through to St Paul's, as has the lesser-known but clear winner (by a long chalk) of the Phantom's Best View in Greenwich Poll, The Point.

Councils cannot approve a building that obstructs St Paul's, and must not allow a development that would bring "an intrusive element in the view's fore or middle ground." Sadly projects already approved during Ken's tenure are not affected.

Boris has even created two new vistas, though unfortunately that wonderful nearly-local one that peeps through the trees at Nunhead Cemetery through to St Paul's is not one of them :-(

I am, of course, delighted about Boris's change in the rules. But I foresee problems in the future as this vista-thing is used as the planning development equivalent of the Hokey-Cokey every time we get a new mayor with a different agenda - or developers in their pocket...

Observatory Gardens

It's entirely possible that you've lived in Greenwich for some time and never visited the 'secret' Observatory Gardens in the near-centre of Greenwich Park. Indeed there will probably be a fair few people rather miffed that I'm mentioning it at all - but hey - we're all True Greenwichians - everyone here should know our town's secrets...

It's rather more landscaped now than in the past - terraces and laid paths have made it a lot more formal, but it's still a quiet area surrounded by trees, up a path you would easily miss if you didn't know it was there.

There's a baby haha on one edge - not deep enough to be particularly dangerous, but keeping the wild bit from the large lawn. At the other end there's some natty terraces.

I wonder whether they've been added to facilitate the Open Air Shakespeare they occasionally have there. I, to my shame, have never been, though I once saw a production by Rainbow Theatre (which usually puts on said Shakespeare) in Worthing where they'd miscalculated the tides, and, unable to present Twelfth Night on the beach as advertised, held it a few streets back in the producer's (far too small for the audience numbers) back garden. Sitting on a variety of kitchen chairs, pouffes, piano stools etc. and clasping a glass of wine from the producer's cellar, we enjoyed a fantastic show in a wonderfully-improvised fashion.

I don't know whether there will be any Shakespeare in the Observatory Gardens this year, but since the tides don't generally reach Greenwich Hill, I think we can safely assume that if there is any, we won't end up in anyone's back garden. I can see how, with its secluded situation and tall trees to cut down on noise, the venue would be ideal.

There are some very inviting-looking steps in one corner, for children to explore. Of course I did my own Phantom expedition around them and though they are now 21st-century Kiddie-Safe^TM laid paths and cut back greenery, and hardly the rough and tumble experience that I would have preferred, given the Health & Safety hoops they've probably had to jump through just to get - heavens - uneven surfaces, it will keep younger children entertained for at least ten minutes.

The garden entrance can be reached from the top front of the Observatory, going down the little side path, or, for a step-free (and frankly more comfortable) experience, it's just set back from the road, a little way downhill from the public loos.

Country Lanes (4)

Langton Way, SE3

I know - this doesn't look very lane-y at all - something that Joe agreed when he sent me this pic. And in many ways I don't really know how to describe Langton Way - it's not a 'made' road (of course by that I mean it's not properly tarmac-ed, not that it's been ignored by the Mafia...) it has no footpaths and there's much greenery involved. It's also tucked away behind Shooters Hill Road and both ends of it look very countrified. It doesn't give the impression of a 'planned' street, rather a back lane that has grown.

I'm guessing that 99% of the houses/cottages along it used to be people's back gardens, sold off over the years as building plots. I would also guess any remaining full-length gardens have their days very definitely numbered.

Some of the places were clearly built a long time ago, perhaps they are old outbuildings or small servants' cottages. Others are much more recent; some are still going up - Joe was most impressed with the local - or perhaps less so - scaffolding company:

N.B. If you're thinking of calling them, do bear in mind that it's a Tatooine dialling code and calls may cost more than advertised from a mobile...

Part of what makes the lane charming is the differences in architectural style, ranging from really rather lovely, through cool and innovative to frankly horrid.

It's a nice walk-through on a sunny day - probably better as a walk than a drive - the road is very uneven. I wouldn't mind betting that's exactly how the residents like it - while it's a truly bumpy ride, it's never going to be much of a rat-run alternative to the parallel A2.

I like Langton Way well enough, but I can't help rather wishing it still looked like the neighbour that bisects it. I'm surprised (but delighted) more building hasn't gone on along Angerstein Lane.

Hell - there are even some original Victorian/Edwardian outbuildings along there, which I hadn't noticed before as they're opposite one of my favourite front gardens and I'm usually rubbernecking the other side of the road, but clocked last time I went along there.

Are these carriage houses and/or stables - or, perhaps, early motor vehicle garages? I particularly like the very high arched bit in the middle - a tack room, maybe? Pigeon loft? I've no idea, but I love it.

Whatever they are, I'm delighted that they remain more or less as they were built down this leafiest of leafy lanes, quietly reminding us of Greenwich gone by...

Country Lanes (3) Westgrove Lane

Another lovely Country Lane today, this one slightly more 'official' than some - it's actually got a name. Westgrove Lane's pretty old - it joins up Point Hill with Westgrove and, eventually the top of Grove Lane. It has a lovely collection of houses - from red brick Victorian through charming Arts & Crafts,

all the way to the Amazing See-Through House, which I did take a picture of, but will be kind enough not to use today since you really can see absolutely everything, all the way through it to the view the other side. Still - I guess if you live in a glass house you can't be exactly shy...

Lots of lovely little features - don't forget to look up at the roof tops as you walk down it, especially on the big red Victorian one on the left. What's up there? Not telling...

But another fab lane, n'est ce pas? Who needs to actually live in the country when you can have the best of both worlds..?

Patch Match

I know loads of you have been hankering after an allotment - but with regular plot waiting lists closed or punishingly-long (the Prior Street one is especially painful to read - I'd give you a link but it's broken and besides, I don't want to depress you...) then other means need to be explored.

The good burghers at Transition Westcombe have started a local Patch Match which puts people with gardens that they can't (or can't be bothered to) garden themselves with people who are desperate to get their mitts dirty.

I think it sounds fun - though there are obviously more restrictions than you'd have on a straight allotment. They are, for example, very clear that this is for food growing, when many traditional allotmenteers actually choose to grow flowers or just a patch of grass to put a deckchair on and read the paper. I don't get that this would be an acceptable use.

But then I guess this is private land and paying the rent in spuds and brussels is the least you can do for use of it - so if food is the reason you want to grow stuff, this could be the way to go. It's certainly the best current option, given the amount of proper allotments available these days.
If you join the scheme, let me know how you get on...

Attack Of The Killer...

PANIC! as SWARMS of slimy insects RAMPAGE YOUR ROSES!

SCREAM! as they SUCK your greenery's LIFEBLOOD!

RUN! to the garden centre to find something environmentally unfriendly to KILL the HORRIFIC MONSTERS!

FEAR! these terrifying CREATURES OF DOOM will turn their DRIPPING JAWS on the HUMAN RACE!

Benedict had a shock the other day. Thinking that Greenwich Council had painted the lamp post outside his gaff with a special new, textured finish, he was yuckked-out to find it was a swarm of greenfly.

In his garden, worse was to come. His plants, smothered in the lime-green nasties, were beginning to droop.

Whatever he does, they keep coming back. He's now wondering if this is personal. Has a vengeful Greenwich god wreaked a biblical plague upon him for some dreadful transgression - or does everyone have greenfly-a-go-go just now?

I've been peering at plants in other people's gardens in a suspicious fashion and they do seem to have vast quantities of nasty green bugs on them (and a few nasty black bugs too.) So maybe Benedict's not been picked out for Personal Purgatory after all.

Maybe we'll get a plague of Greenwich Toads to eat the plague of Greenwich Greenfly. But then we'd need a plague of Greenwich - hang on, what eats toads..?

Thanks, Rich, for the last-min pic...

Country Lanes (2) Diamond Terrace

This is one of those lanes that looks like you shouldn't be allowed up there - and yet, once you get past the first few feet, it opens out into a substantial road in the middle, with some stunning Georgian/Victorian houses on it (I particularly like the one with the Regency wrought iron balcony outside it.)

Diamond Terrace has three exits, the southern most one of which, that's a footpath only, is my country lane for today, full of lush country flowers (yeah, ok, weeds) and cobbledy cobbles. There's a fantastic grey-painted cottage halfway down, that I am convinced if you just showed a picture of it to someone, they'd believe was in the middle of Devon or something. Railings, flagstones, tulips and cherry blossom.

Long-term readers may remember the spooky tunnels that run underneath Diamond Terrace, including the one that was fancifully grotto-fied Regency Times and later used as an air raid shelter. Sadly I'm still waiting for my invite to one of the exclusive cocktail parties the present owner apparently holds from time to time ;-)

Ah, well. I'll console myself with some lovely greenery. Ahh...

Bluebells

No - not another band slot. Just a suggestion from Charlotte for something to do today, if you're stuck for ideas.

The bluebells at Oxleas Woods are stunning just now - as seems to be most of the greenery around here - presumably a combination of a long wet Winter and a warm sunny Spring.

If you take a trip up there, don't forget the Oxleas Wood Cafe where you can get all the egg & chips you can eat, and if you haven't already visited the a-bit-poorly-just-now Severndroog Castle you should take a peek - though it won't actually be open for a snoot around until Open House Weekend. The Preservation Trust has grand plans for it, though, so fingers crossed.

Angerstein Lane Revisited

I had a tip-off that the gorgeous adopted garden in Angerstein Lane which marked the very first of my Favourite Front Gardens series.

Deep in the middle of the lovely, leafy pathway between St John's Park and Shooters Hill Road it's easy to miss if you're unfamiliar with the area. The owner of the tiny, low-lying cottage has quietly adopted a piece of what is, frankly wild land, turning it into a dappled oasis of beauty.

It doesn't photograph very well (well -okay - it probably does - but I'm no photographer as you can see from these shots) so you have to see it for yourself. It's currently full of forget-me-nots, punctuated by tulips, but this jumble of cottage garden classics is clearly for all seasons. I can already see paeonies poking through and ferns uncurling for later in the year.

This is a wonderful example of a gardener without a garden finding a way, somehow, anyhow, to express himself. It shouldn't work - when he first took it over it must have just been a bit of scrubland that looked far too overshadowed by trees and the giant houses surrounding it (I'm assuming the cottage itself was originally outbuildings servicing the posh piles) - but it's a lush little corner of greenery that, for my money, can hold its own with Greenwich Park's grand herbaceous border.

Angerstein Lane should really also go in the new Country Lanes series - a leafy, lovely way to slip from Greenwich to Blackheath - albeit a bit of a trek for people in West Greenwich. A trek well worth making, I promise.

John Evelyn's Top Crown

Walking past Rangers House the other day (has anyone else noticed that you only seem to be able to go on 'guided tours' there now, instead of wandering round at will?) it occurred to me that I don't know much - if anything - about the bowling green just outside it. I always think it looks very nicely kept (a friend of mine who plays says it looks a bit uneven - can't see it myself) but I rarely see anyone playing there.

Turning to my long-suffering copy of Hasted (the poor old thing is now kept in an old boardgame box to stop it falling to pieces entirely. It definitely needs rebinding, but I shudder to think how much that would cost...) I find a page that is just four lines of actual Hasted-text long. The rest of the page is taken up with Drake's notes, which are often the best bit about this fab old book.

Immediately after a protracted ramble about hermits (well - he couldn't resist - and who can blame him?), Drake tells us that Sir John Evelyn notes in his diary on May 1, 1683:

"I went to Blackheath to see the new faire, being the first procured by the Lord Dartmouth. This was the first day pretended for the sale of cattle, but I think, in truth to enrich the new tavern at the bowling green erected by Snape, His Majesty's farrier, a man full of projects."

Evelyn's being generous here. As we've seen before, Andrew Snape nibbled a load of land from Greenwich Park, and then, on a dodgy 60-year lease, built sundry semi-legal-to-downright-illegal projects, the most famous of which is Rangers House, which is, of course, next door to the bowling green.

Then I get a bit confused, as Drake says the tavern in question is the Green Man.

Hang on. Wasn't that in the middle of Blackheath?

Either there were two bowling greens or two Green Men. I like to think two taverns. Just think - if there had been two pubs and the one at the top of Crooms Hill had survived, wouldn't that have been somewhere good to drink of a Sunday afternoon?

But I digress. A newspaper ad of 1703 might or might not be talking about our bowling green. "The Bowling Green on Blackheath, near Greenwich, which is now very fine and in good order, where all sorts of provision are to be had for gentlemen, their attendants, horses and coaches, besides a very good ordinary." It doesn't say 'ordinary' what...

The venerable Blackheath and Greenwich Bowling Club wasn't set up until July 1903, but it was on the bowling green outside Rangers House. Or at least on the old one. They're responsible for getting us the one there today - the London County Council rebuilt it in 1923. Even then it doesn't seem to have passed muster, so the club moved to its current home at Brooklands Park in 1926. You can read the rest on their history page. Try not to blush too much at the unfortunate typo.

So who meets there now? It took me some time to ferret out The Blackheath Bowling Club (which is absolutely not the same thing as the Blackheath & Greenwich Bowling Club, okay?) They don't have a website that I can find, but their rates are almost low enough to make me want to join.

If you fancy a go, you need to be free on Thursday afternoons (which may explain why I never see them play) and prepared to stump up a whopping 20p per session (after the extravagant £10 joining fee...) Email gfneville@aol.com.

The season is just beginning...

The Best View In London?

On Easter Monday, I took a stroll up to the Point. I love going there - it's full of those country lanes I've been promising to flag up (some more coming soon, promise...) It doesn't matter how you approach it, it always feels slightly edgy, slightly secret.

It certainly was on Monday. As you can see, the place was deserted. Admittedly it had that certain extra, added-edginess - that 'will-it-won't-it-pour-with-rain-before-I-get-to-the-Union' feel about it. But for that short while, despite its being a bank holiday, it was empty up there. A magical, flat, tree-surrounded fairy glade, with a fabulous view.

Of course the view's getting a little more obscure these days as the shrubs on the hill below grow to maturity - they could do with a spot of judicious pruning here and there - but hey - this has to be one of (if not the) best view around.

If you can imagine, through the rapidly-approaching clouds in this picture, the London Eye is bang in the middle, with Wembley, the Gherkin, that strange building over Spitalfields, Tower 42 and Canary Wharf all silhouetted to the right (not that they're mentioned in the charmingly out-of-date info board up there...) but there are lovely little extras too - chimney pots and higgledy-piggledy roofs, church spires and curiosities, the DLR and sundry train lines (sadly no St Nicholas, Deptford, any more - new builds conceal it now...)

That same day, the crowds to view London from The Phantom General Wolfe's Statue were several-people-deep. And - I'll grant you - it IS a good view. As is the one from that lonesome bench to the west of Greenwich Park, just at the brow of Greenwich Hill. I'm even partial to the vista you get from outside the Amylum chemical works on the Thames Path, looking back at the ORNC. From the top of Maze Hill, by Vanbrugh Castle's another good one. But none of them can beat The Point, IMHO.

Sadly, by the time I took the photo above, those clouds were approaching a bit scarily fast (though in the event came to nothing) and the view was rapidly fading but if you've never been there, hive yourself up there pronto.

And then - hell, why not - let's have a poll. What IS the best view in Greenwich? Have I missed any out? Vote Here

Deer Me

I always enjoy some blue-sky thinking - especially when it's clearly intended as a wind-up. Which meant that I specially liked WG's comment a couple of days ago:

"With regards the deer enclosure - is this the optimum use of quite a large slice of Greenwich Park? There are only two cramped observation areas with prison-like security to stop fingers being nibbled. I suggest they are moved to Bushy or Richmond Park where they will be free to roam and do something a bit more beneficial."

Okay - let's run with that. It's not something I had ever considered - I confess I can't imagine Greenwich Park without the deer. They've been here for longer than we have - at least since Henry VII's time and yet it's us that have slowly pushed them further and further back until they're shoved into a corner next to the compost heaps and the rubbish bins.

It's not so long ago deer roamed freely through the park - and, as you can see from the 1903 postcard above, until 1927 feeding them was part of the fun of a day out to Greenwich.

Not that that came without its attendant problems. People tended to assume that the deer enjoyed scoffing whatever they enjoyed - and there were a few casualties along the way. Post-mortems revealed

Death By:

• Gooseberry Tart
• Sweeties
• Orange peel
• Mutton bones
• Strips of cloth
• Leather and, ahem,
• Venison.

Deer have always been around Greenwich park by default, but it was 1653 that a specific herd of 96 deer was officially brought in (along with a small stock of conies, which, inexplicably, don't seem to have bred like the proverbial rabbits...)

Numbers have increased and decreased over the years, and yes, WG, some were moved to Bushy Park in the 1850s when they got a bit numerous. Every so often they bring new males in to make sure the stock stays strong.

I think it's a shame the deer have to be locked away these days - presumably for their own good, but I don't see any real reason for getting rid of them altogether. The park is huge - we don't really need any more space - besides - I rather like there being a secret 'secluded' area.

The deer are charming - and while I'll agree that the double - or is it triple now - row of wire netting makes it hard to feel close to these animals in any real way, I still enjoy taking a trip to the south end of the park. Sometimes they're really near the fence; other times they're not to be seen at all. I like that pot-luckery - it makes me feel privileged when I do see them.

Thing is, the deer enclosure isn't just for deer. At the risk of coming over all eco-warrior, it's a habitat for all manner of other wildlife from bats to moths, funghi to flowers.

But let's not dismiss the idea altogether. Hmm. Let me think. What would the benefit of moving the deer be? Well, I could sleep easy on Blackheath Fireworks Night, knowing the deer aren't frightened out of their furry wits, for a start.

Maybe there is a better use for the land. Her Majesty could flog it off for some luxury flats, perhaps. Or Greenwich Inc could put a venison-themed mid-price restaurant franchise there. How about a pony paddock, complete with baby jumps as a lovely legacy for 2012?

Suggestions here, please, folks...

Slow-Burner Daffs

How odd - whilst I was waxing lyrical about the lovely slow-burner daffodils outside the Queen's House, Stephen was out snapping them.

And because I, for one, can't get enough of the spring flowers just I thought I'd share a couple more with you. Have you noticed the unusually-sweet aromas in the air just now, too, delicate, blossomy smells, rather than the usual yeasty pongs? I just love Spring...

While we're on the subject of the Maritime Museum / Queen's House, Stephen also points out that the statue of Captain Cook has disappeared, replaced by this bush:

Now - I know it wasn't the best statue in Greenwich, but it certainly wasn't the worst (that dubious honour goes, of course, to this hideous, designed-by-committee effort) and I'm rather surprised to see it go. I don't even seem to have a picture of what's missing in my ever-bulging file of photos - I'm sure you know the one I mean though.

I went to check it out earlier today, and there was much activity going on, mainly of the burly-blokes-hauling-entire-shrubs-around variety, and there was a non-committal notice outside the children's playground saying something about essential works. It could be the beginnings of the 'exciting' new Sammy Ofer Wing, of course, or just a re-jig of the greenery, but I'll make a guess that Captain Cook will be back at some point.

In the meantime, sit back and enjoy another daff-pic from Stephen's lens...

Happy Spring, folks.

The Buddha of Gurdon Road

Gurdon Road, SE7

By rights this should be in my Favourite Front Gardens section.

It's an unassuming little Victorian end of terrace house with its own little Zen garden, quietly tucked behind a screen of willow trellis. The gatepost has this delightful little head - I don't know which god it is - but it looks peaceful and that will do for me.

Behind, in a little gravel area, is another cross-legged god (I'm assuming it's Buddha, but my ignorance level is high here...) surrounded by miniature bamboo in pots and, in the summer, one of those little shiny roller-ball fountains. At the moment, it's tucked up in bed for the winter, so try taking a look in a few week's time when Spring looks a bit more likely than now.

A little bit of peace in a Charlton garden. Ahh.

2026 Footpath Clarification

This is an update from a post a couple of weeks ago, where I was concerned to hear about a law that will come into force in 2026, extinguishing any footpaths in Britain (even medieval ones) that haven't been officially recorded.

RTB was very concerned about this and wrote to the council asking what the situation was as far as Greenwich's footpaths are concerned. They may not be the most picturesque in Britain, but some of them are jolly useful.

He got a couple of smug replies from Some Bloke, saying that as Greenwich is an inner city borough, it didn't have to provideone of the definitive maps that the law will use to base closures.

RTB asked where that left us. He got a non-committal reply.

So I wrote to the Ramblers Association - and this is their reply, from Janet Davis, Rights of Way Policy Co-Ordinator:

"The National Parks and Access to the Countryside Act of 1949 was the legislation which required the drawing up of the original definitive maps. At that time the London County Council (LCC), the county boroughs and areas which county councils considered to be ‘fully developed’ areas were exempt from the requirement to produce definitive maps. These councils could, by resolution, decide to do so, although not surprisingly none of them did.

When the LCC was abolished in 1965, the GLC and 32 London boroughs were created. However, definitive map legislation remained optional in the 12 inner London boroughs which were roughly the equivalent of the old LCC.

In 1981, the requirement to produce definitive maps became compulsory everywhere except the inner London boroughs (of which Greenwich is one). That remains the situation to this day, and although it is still open to those boroughs to resolve to opt in to the legislation none of them has.
The good news is that the cut-off date provisions recognise this and footpaths and bridleways, any part of which are in an area which immediately before 1 April 1965, formed part of the administrative county of London (i.e. the old LCC) are exempt - they won't be extinguished on 1 January 2026.

The Ramblers has always argued that the inner London boroughs should not have been exempt from the requirement to prepare a map because having a definitive map of rights of way is very good protection for such routes. The depiction of a right of way on a definitive map is conclusive evidence (i.e. sufficient to satisfy a court) of the existence of a route and that can be invaluable in protecting a route from development or other obstruction. It is difficult to see why the City of Birmingham should have to produce a map when the inner London boroughs do not have to do so.

However, while the threat of the 2026 cut-off date remains in place, the situation in which the inner London boroughs find themselves is actually, in a way, advantageous. Once the Government has made a decision on what to do about the cut-off date, and the recording of rights of way in urban areas in general (although mapping is compulsory everywhere except inner London many urban authorities have been very slow about it) we will be in a better position to decide if we should re-new our campaign for definitive maps in inner London."

So. It basically seems that because Greenwich Council (and, actually, all the other London Boroughs) didn't bother creating a definitive map, we get to keep our paths. For the moment, at least. Phew.

Janet Davis was, however, keen to point out that the cut-off date is still an issue in the rest of the country. If you enjoy walking in the countryside, you may like to sign the petition anyway...

Can't Resist...

...a few more lovely pics. When I finally work out how to retrieve pics off Picassa/Flickr we'll have another fest...

In the meanwhile, a couple more from Rod - one where Greenwich suddenly looks like some Alpine village (with micro-mountains, natch)

and another that shows just how bloomin' deep the snow managed to get on those branches:

I didn't include any of Stevie's pics yesterday - space and time just got in the way - so I'm rectifying it now. All of Blackheath, all lovely. He calls this one 'Spires & Tyres..."

...and the long Paragon Plod:
But my personal favourite is this one. Don't you just love the pastel shades with the white of the snow?

Bet there are going to be a few home-made Christmas cards next year.

Take care in all that slippery stuff, folks...

Pun-Free Snow Pictures Headline

What can I say that hasn't already been said about the weather? Heaviest snow for 18 years, bin lids for toboggans, no rail information 'due to weather,' yadda, yadda.

Every website going has dozens of pictures, and terrible snow-puns. Me? I'll just go for the first. Thank you so much, everyone who's sent in pics. I haven't included here any sent on Flickr as I am a Phantom of such little brain I can't work out how to get them off the Flickr pages - soz...

I may well do aother batch later - hell - everyone likes pics of snow, don't they...

Rod was responsible for the fine photo of Yours Truly above. He also sent me the fab aerial shot and the gates as most of us have never seen them before.


But ultimately on days like this, everyone just heads for the park. And this ghostly pic of the Observatory is just a little deceptive. The place was crawling with people - Rod must have got up pretty early to get this.

It was as crowded as it gets on a sunny day in August, as Emma's pics show:

I just adore this snowman and his dog - how many hours did that take..?

So - The Dwarf Orchard?

Did any of you go to the working party a couple of weeks ago to start tackling the Dwarf Orchard? It was on weekdays, so many people (including me) couldn't make it - but I'd like to know how it went. I had a peek through the gates, but all I could make out was a giant box of footballs that must have been lost over the wall...

'Til The Clouds Roll By...

Benedict has just sent me this lovely picture of Rangers House rose garden, to remind us all that Spring WILL come. At some point.

Blimey. Colour. I'd forgotten such a concept existed...

Countdown 2026

Here's a thing I hadn't heard of, which I'm suspecting the Government is keeping a very low profile on, but which everyone should be aware of, even those of us that live in an urban area. For those of you who get the blog via RSS, sorry about the re-post - I managed to put it in the wrong place.

Did you know that on January 1st, 2026, all paths established before 1949 that have not been formally recorded as rights-of-way by that date will be 'extinguished,' and lost forever?

No? Nor did I. And yes - that includes paths that have been around since medieval times and before.

It's all down to greedy landowners who don't like the hoi-poloy tramping across 'their' land. Apparently there are about 20,000 footpaths that we just assume are rights of way because they always have been - but which haven't been formally set down as such - usually because we didn't know we needed to.

At the time when the government passed the law (2000) they thought it might be a bit unpopular (can't think why) and so they started a project to start recording the most-used paths. But it proved really red-tapey and cumbersome and the project was quietly abandoned. Strangely, the law the project was brought in to counteract was not abandoned.

The Ramblers Association is at the forefront of a campaign to get rid of this law, and, given that no one seems to know it was actually passed, they're having a bit of an uphill trek.

One of the reasons this is so important to everyone is that it's not just pretty little country lanes that are in danger. It's those little cut-throughs and snickleways that we use every day, and just assume are ok. One day a builder closes it off, you assume it's just while a new development is going up, and yet somehow it never re-opens.

Don't assume that the path you use across the Angerstein Lane by Farmdale Road that leads over the flyover to Westcombe Park station is registered. Don't assume that that little path between Maze Hill and Maze Hill station will stay there for ever. I don't know about these two - or any others, as yet - for all I know they MAY be registered - but we can't assume anything.

A very interesting case is on the other side of Maze Hill station, eading to the south side, from Vanbrugh Hill. Will that path ever re-open now we have 'Seren park'? Who can tell.

I understand that it's a particularly complicated one and that, curiously, the two parties that the Ramblers usually see as 'baddies' are actually the 'goodies' in this instance.

It seems that both the developer and the council are happy to reopen it (I believe the developer actually had to make a special path as a Section 106) but South Eastern Trains themselves are putting up all kinds of barriers, wanting to close it completely forever. They claim, I understand, that the path belongs to a totally different railway company, but a little bird tells me they're being VERY obstructive.

I don't know the details, but this is one thing that mustn't go unnoticed. I have a friend up Vanbrugh Hill who has recently had a baby who has to hump a pram over the railway bridge, along past the pottery and back up over the footbridge just to get onto the platform. Shame on South Eastern.

But back to Countdown 2026. This is potentially a serious issue. We can do two things. We can sign the usual petition (I'm never sure how much good they do, but since it's there we might as well...) and we can look at the paths that we personally love. There are definitive maps of paths recorded so far. We can check that the ones we use and love ourselves are included on the maps, and if they're not, we need to use them and get proof that we did. The Ramblers Association will help.

We mustn't let this one slide. I understand that even marked footpaths and some famous paths are included on the 'at risk' list. If they are, then heaven help the little byways that, though they might not be the prettiest sight ever, we use every day and which make our lives that little bit easier...

Twitching Hour

Birds, Biscuits and Beverages. I like 'em all, though not necessarily in that order. And, let's face it, who doesn't?

Greenwich is hardly the Serengeti when it comes to rare birds. I'm the first to admit it. But even if the best we can do is a few sparrows and the odd cormorant,* our wildlife is still wild - and we need to do what we can to look after it. So far it's all been a bit piecemeal - people have done their own private bit of birding - a little bit of recording or taking the odd snap (which some have been kind enough to send to me...)

But on Sunday, between 1.00 and 3.00pm, over at the Ecology Centre on the Peninsula, a grand pooling of knowledge will be taking place. Everyone is welcome to bowl up and talk about the birding they're doing or planning to do, the varieties they've seen and to exchange good places to see the best Greenwich birds. Oh - and you get tea and biscuits, so no need to bring a Thermos.

Call 07982 729 015 or inaleagueofourown@googlemail.com for more details, or just turn up.

I've been looking for an excuse to use the picture above, of one of our rarer birds, for a month or so now. Will someone reassure me that it doesn't look ever so slightly rude?


*plus a parrot or two...

Pics of the Dwarf Orchard

Anonymous asked if there are any pictures of the Dwarf Orchard on the web, and I confess I don't seem to be able to find any, but I've been sent a picture of what is currently there, and a map of what is planned, scanned from a brief by Greenwich Park Management...

First of all, the splendid fellow from the portal above the entrance to the Dwarf Orchard. I can never remember whether he's Old Father Thames, Neptune, The Green Man or, as I believe someone once somewhat randomly suggested, Charlton Heston, but he is rather fun. To my immense shame, I can't recall who sent me this picture - I think it was Benedict - but huge apologies if it was someone else.

But onto the one and only picture that I know of on the web, of the Dwarf Orchard. Again I don't know who took this; I'm told it's ok to use it. Hope so...

So - a bunch of odd bits of masonry (maybe we can put them together again, a bit like the mice in Bagpuss and then hear a story by Professor Yaffle about what it is. Altogether now, "Heave! Heave...") some wildflowers and a lot of weeds...

And finally, some plans. You'll have to click on this to see the suggestions, but apart from the typos (and it happens to the best of us, ahem,) it all looks pretty sound.

More pics of the Dwarf Orchard will be gratefully received.

The Dwarf Orchard

Just about everything regarding the Dwarf Orchard (anyone else find that name just plain funny?) is a tangled mess. If only it was just the weeds.

It's history is hardly straightforward. It started out as a nice (much larger, by the sound of it) orchard that once belonged to Anne of Denmark (I vaguely remember it, alongside the Queen's House, being a 'Sorry I got angry, Pumpkin,' gift from her husband James I after he shouted at her for accidentally killing his favourite dog. We've all been there...) The man in charge was William Boreman, who was, BTW, responsible for the planting of the ancient chestnut trees we're all so concerned about just now, and by all accounts it was A Bit Nice.

It had roundy flowerbeds, a water feature (wonder if it was Charles I's comedy fountain...) proper paths and a mound with a black mulberry - the cutting-edge tree du jour at the time. They stuck a fence around it to stop the deer chomping the flowers and it was all very bijou.

It was given to Greenwich Hospital in 1707 - for use as a graveyard, but the Admiralty just couldn't resist the lure of development. I'm guessing that the result is the houses along the side of the Park up Maze Hill these days, which would have made the Orchard much bigger then than it is now. The article I read tactfully says that after WWII, when it was used as allotments, it " reverted through 'natural regeneration' towards bramble, scrub and sycamore woodland." That translates as "it's been totally neglected."

Well. Not quite. There have been some attempts to get this poor relation of Greenwich Park back to some kind of order. The council, who bought it in 1976, seems to have been a bit of a low point.

They leased it to Greenwich Environment Forum, which was quite enthusiastic at first, but slowly dwindled to one person, and the politics moved in. An acre of heavy weeds is an awful lot for one person to handle, and it all went very pear-shaped. I don't know all the details, which is probably a good thing.

After 30 years of campaigning, the orchard was returned to the park by Greenwich Council in 2007 (in what, on paper at least, sounds like an very silly ceremony) but by the point of the formal handover (April 2008) the wildlife had already settled in for the summer. Then they discovered the dreaded Japanese Knotweed - which needs the intensity of treatment reserved for rabies and bird 'flu.

So - what now? Well, it's finally ready to start being cleared. The brambles, nettles, ash - and those sodding sycamores (my own personal bete-noire) - have to go. The plan is to clear it out, find out exactly what's underneath, then try to restore what once was - the sweetness of miniature fruit trees, the buzzing of beehives and all-round general loveliness.

And you can help. Between Jan 19th - 21st, a three-day intensive gardening project is going on. The perfect opportunity to poke around part of Greenwich's history and work off a few of those Christmas pounds at the same time with the British Trust Conservation Volunteers. If you're interested, give Warren Young a call on 07740 899 614 or email him at W.Young@btcv.org.uk

Twelfth Night

A flimsy excuse to include a pic I'd forgotten I'd taken - of a jolly little sapling in Greenwich Park, which somebody lovely had decorated, clearly just for me...

Those baubles will have to come down by tonight - or bad luck will befall the park...

Guerrillas In The Midst

Following on from yesterday's sad sight, I bring you an example of Guerrilla gardening, albeit in the borough, rather than the town of Greenwich, by our own RTB. He mentioned he'd done some and I wasn't going to rest until he'd shown me the results...

He noticed that the war memorial in Eltham was looking - well, not really fit for heroes:

so set about creating a new display, full of meaningful and symbolic plants chosen for the place. The full story and plant-meanings are on his website.

And here's one of the boxes, just after planting. It's early days - it will need time to fill out, but he's planted it using a frame of chicken wire to discourage vandals so you never know - it might just reach maturity.

Which has just got me thinking of Trafalgar Road's own Tubs of Shame, in between the bookies and the lap dancing bar...

So, RTB, you've probably got some time on your hands now the war memorial's done...

A Slightly Worrying Thought...

Folks, I'm beginning to wonder if we haven't been slightly barking up the wrong tree with the Equestrian Events in the Park in 2012.

A little piece on the back page of the Friends of Greenwich Park newsletter has begun a few alarm bells ringing - that in concentrating all efforts on watching a temporarily big event in four years' time, we've taken our eye off another ball - and one with permanent implications.

A project whose designers openly admit will damage part of the park, change the way it looks AND lose mature trees permanently and irrevocably.

What is this project? The new Sammy Ofer Wing of the National Maritime Museum which we discussed recently. If you recall, they're going to knock down some Victorian buildings and build a new, unexciting but not particularly offensive wing to house - well - not very much as far as I can tell.

A cafe, shop and a 'greatest hits' section for those too lazy to actually visit the museum properly. Admittedly there will be some good new archives, too, but I find the whole project a bit pointless really - something dreamed up because a millionaire gave a load of cash to the museum and, presumably, wanted something named after him instead of spending it on something they really need like staff wages or exhibitions.

All in all, I wasn't wild about the concept but I wasn't going to be lying down in front of the bulldozers over it.

What I hadn't noticed, though, was where they're going to put the new entrance ramp. Straight through one-third of the longest herbaceous border in London. Yup, folks, that lovely long flower border that runs the entire length of the museum/Queens House part of the park. (see above.)

The Friends' newsletter also states that it also involves "removal of the boundary fence" - hang on - isn't the boundary 'fence' ancient wall at that point?

Finally, two mature turkey oaks are for the chop. Now, I can't deny - and I've been to look at these trees - that they're not the most exciting specimens in the park. They're not truly aged - though any tree that size isn't exactly young, either. But this gradual erosion of large trees is, IMHO, not a good thing. Architects always include trees in their plans to make it look like their buildings are prettier than they actually are - but they're always those stupid dwarf varieties that don't get in the way of anything.

We are losing our large trees - from roads, from borders, from gardens. Surely a Royal Park must be somewhere that grand, majestic specimens can stretch their leaves? Now - these two are on the NMM side of that wall, so I can't really moan about them (even though, of course, that's exactly what I'm doing.)

But what the hell is Royal Parks doing, even considering a plan that involves damaging a fabulous, stunning herbaceous border and, possibly an ancient wall (personally I can't see how you can lose the border and not the wall...)

The Friends' newsletter says that they went to a presentation where they were told all the marvellous goodies the new wing will bring - and the bad news about the border. They say they are concerned, but they don't say what they're going to do (if anything) about this.

Proposals are being put before LBG for planning permission 'before the end of the year.' But where are Royal Parks in this? Why aren't they kicking up one hell of a stink?

Maybe they, too, have been so busy with the Olympics that they haven't noticed this either. The NMM have realised that now is a good time to bury bad news.

Money talks, it seems, when it comes to destroying Royal Parks.

Conker Canker

Warning. This could get nerdy, folks...


Sarah's worried. She asks:

"Say, you don't know about this thing with the chestnut blight? I'm really worried about the trees in the park, a lot of them seem to be hit by it. Do any scientist types know if it's something that will move on, or will it kill the trees?"

The Phantom replies:

You alarmed me there, Sarah. So much so that I went out yesterday to check every chestnut tree I could find in the park. Of course it had nothing whatsoever to do with the lovely sunshine or the threat of cold-and-nasty for the next few days. This was Science. Obviously.

According to the BBC website, the alarming-looking 'bleeding canker' which is a nasty bark fungus, and the leaf-miner moth which make the leaves wizen and drop off, only seem to affect Horse Chestnut trees* but given the close proximity of horse chestnuts to the historic sweet chestnut trees* I wanted to make sure. I don't think they're connected genetically (I believe that the edible ones are more closely related to beech trees) but I'm no expert.

The blighted trees had reached Chatham and the Medway by 2006 which is when the BBC site's dated, so I checked the RHS for symptoms to look out for. There are icky pictures of particularly bad cases on the BBC site.

As far as I can tell, the leaf miner just saps the trees, and makes them sick, but they can recover. And as it's been a wet summer, they may have gone away anyway. The bark blight is the real baddie - and some forestry types seem to think it could be the next Dutch Elm Disease. There's a rather alarming - if short on detail - map here that shows instances of the disease.

Obviously the leaves are mostly all dropped just now, so it was hard to tell whether they'd died because they'd been chomped or because it was winter. I could only look out for the nasty Bleeding Canker. I must have looked like some loony, staring up into trees, peering closely at the bark and muttering to myself but I couldn't see anything that didn't look like it shouldn't be there (save the odd parrot...)

So yes - I think that it's something to be on the lookout for - but personally I couldn't see any problems up there yesterday. And because it only affects Horse Chestnuts (as far as I can find out) I don't think it's an immediate danger to the 300-year old Sweet Chestnuts.

*The Phantom's Scientific Chestnut Identification Field Guide:

• Horse Chestnuts (Aesculus hippocastanum, if you want to get down, dirty and latin...)
  
  The classic conker trees - you can tell the difference by looking at the leaves - they're much bigger and look sort-of hand-like (to me, anyway...) They have 'candles' in the spring - pink and white, and they come up with big shiny, inedible conkers in autumn, in little hard green spiky cases. They're the ones you bake in vinegar and tie on bits of hairy string then smash into other kids' vinegar-baked arsenals (though you're probably not allowed to do that kind of thing any more due to H&S regs...)
  
  They're nothing to do with:
  
  
• Sweet chestnuts (Castanea sativa)
  
  Those big, gnarled-trunk jobbies that are getting in the way of an easy Olympics. The leaves are more spindly with crinkly edges, and even youngish trees look knobbly. But the big difference is in the nuts - they're edible for humans. The cases are much spikier and look softer.When they're on the tree, they look almost 'fluffy' from a distance. Don't be fooled. Wear gloves to pick them up - they're buggers for ripping your hands to shrebbons trying to open them.
  
  If you can get there before the hoardes of Chinese grannies who suddenly appear out of nowhere armed with giant carrier bags every autumn, you can gather them and roast them on the obigatory 'open fire...' (make a cross in the bottom with a knife first or they explode.)

...And Mellow Fungifulness...

Further to my post last week about Lovely Autumn, I'm getting soppy again today. Scared of Chives has sent me some fab pictures of the park all dressed up in its golden finery and the suns's shining. I love Greenwich Park all year round but there's something special about it now that's truly glorious.

I managed to miss out on the chestnuts this year - by the time I got there, they were plump and ripe - but mainly gone - perhaps it's the credit crunch that has made us begin to remember that age-old source of food, wildlife (though no one seems to have tucked into the hundreds of squirrels yet... )

The collection of sweet chestnuts by locals has been going on in Greenwich Park for centuries - though the park keepers now frown on the other age-old tradition of beating the trees 'to encourage growth.' I reckon the second week of October is optimum time for nuts being just about ripe but not already harvested by armies of enterprising Chinese grannies. Better put a note to myself in next year's diary...

But there are other foods to be found in the hedgerows around here (and yes, there are a few still left.) Elderberries have been amazing this year, as have rowans. And the wet weather has brought out the funghi. Dave spotted this strange specimen:

and though I wouldn't be too keen to try it, you never know. I once watched on in horror as someone harvested a giant growth on the side of an oak tree that my mum would have given me a smack for if I'd touched as a child, pronounced it a 'chicken-of-the-woods' and pan-fried it with garlic. It looked far scarier than the above, but you never can tell. And yes - it did taste just like chicken.

To be honest I'm too much of a wuss to take on funghi - there are too many varieties on the wrong end of the yummy/belly-ache scale, but people who would know their chanterelles and ceps from their fly agaric and their death caps are the curious London Foragers who I have written about before. I admire their style, (roast chestnut ice cream - mmmm...) but I'm still not touching any toadstools. Especially not the ones that appeared in my, ahem, rather ancient doormat last week (ick.)

A very good guide to dull-but-tasty versus pretty-but-deadly mushrooms is the UK Safari page, though for clarity I prefer the Northern Ireland Fungus Group's site, which also has good tips for harvesting - I'm guessing the main species will be the same. Cheaper, though perhaps a tad riskier, than the stall on Blackheath Farmers Market...

As Scared of Chives's pic below shows - we have short, crisp days with bright, low sun and breath-catchingly cold walks to look forward to. And they don't cost anything, either...

Favourite Front Gardens (13)

We've been a bit slow on Fave Front Gardens this year - presumably the weather's not really inspired people as much as usual. But Benedict told me about one in King George Street which is as lovely as it is simple. He sent me these pics to prove it.

This little cottage could be in a little provincial town, but it isn't. It's in the centre of Greenwich and a reminder that you can get a little bit of the countryside pretty much anywhere. There are a few perennials in there, but for the show, they've concentrated on just a couple of annuals - big, floppy poppies and sweet peas, which act as a very neat 'net curtain.' A profusion of summer, to remind us that yes, we did actually get a bit of one...

Favourite Front Gardens (12)

Well - not quite - but at the moment it is someone's front garden - though it's possible it will be available to all soon.

I've been watching the former graveyard at Devonport House for some months now. It always used to be (and frankly, still is at the moment) a case of having to sneak around the back if you wanted to get a closer look at the few monuments that still exist there (most were moved to the charming East Greenwich Pleasaunce in mid Victorian times.)

It was, I confess, with mixed emotions I saw paths and fences spring up in the grounds, in preparation for opening them to the public. Obviously, it will be nice not to have to tiptoe about getting muddy boots and risking a ticking-off just to take a peek at Admiral Hardy's Tomb and, I'll give them their dues, they've done it really well - with little avenues of baby box which will knit to form low hedges and areas of long grasses and wavy flowers.

But part of me rather liked the fact that there was a little wild-ish area in the middle of Greenwich, a secret area, despite the fact that it was almost entirely on view to the world, but somehow still remained invisible because it was behind railings. I liked the lush green grass, growing right up to the monuments, the peaceful 'forbidden' air that made sneaking-in a delicious challenge.

What has been created is lovely, I'll grant you. It's tasteful and elegant - and I look forward to wandering through the grounds. It also has the added bonus of softening the somewhat severe brickwork of Devonport House.

But it's also losing something, IMHO. OK, this was hardly a wilderness - the grass was cut and there was never any chance of it being neglected. But it was somewhere that needed a second look - that didn't yield up its charms to every visitor that walked past.

Now it's safe. We have wide (albeit lovely) paths, sensible (charming) streetlights and sturdy (elegant) railings around each monument. It's well done. But would I have swapped its former secluded peace for the chance to have another formal gardens? I just don't know.

Of course at the moment, it's the worst of both worlds. The taming has been done, but we still don't get to wander the paths in what little watery sunshine that remains to us. I've checked the Cathedral Group website, also the rather dull Devonport House site but I can find no reference to the grounds at all, though there's a large-enough banner proclaiming that they're creating space for the people...

I'm wondering if it's some Section 106 agreement - it had to be done - but nothing was said about actually ever opening it.

What do you think? Am I just being a miserable old Phantom? Do you welcome a new park - or are you like me, secretly rather fond of a place you could see, but not actually visit - but that retained a quiet that was somehow away from the hustle and bustle of central Greenwich. And does anyone have any idea whether or not this will ever be opened? If it's going to be tamed we might as well have the use of it...

Favourite Front Gardens (11)

Trinity Buoy Wharf,E14



We haven't had a favourite front garden for ages. Maybe this is because the weather's been so bloomin' duff that I haven't been out looking for them - or maybe nobody wants to do much in the way of primping and preening their greenery in the rain.

But I said I'd bang on about Trinity Buoy Wharf a bit more, and today, I want to show you what a bunch of creative people do with no fixed gardens.

Trinity Buoy Wharf (not actually in, but I like to think "honorary" Greenwich) was basically an experimental station built along the Thames to test out lighthouse technology before it was used in really dangerous areas. There are some fab stories about it - one of my favourites is where they'd fire up a new type of bulb and some poor sod would have to leg-it round to Shooters Hill to see if they could see the light - and famous people - Michael Faraday, no less, who worked there, but that's for another day. A dark winter's day, perhaps, when stories of bravery and derring-do on the high seas are all the more dramatic.

Trinity Buoy Wharf has a fascinating life these days too. It's inhabited by creative types - with wonderful installations and art projects (see Aluna for one of my favourites) - and a great diner - all of which I'll also get onto in good time. They warrant looking at in more detail than one post.

The place is a wonderful mix of the old - Victorian warehouses, light-ships and the lighthouse itself - and the new - a pile of containers, painted bright colours and inhabited by arty types. And there's nothing arty types like better than creating exciting plant projects.

All over the place pieces of art mingle with found objects, juxtaposed in curious ways, both inside and outside the workshops of potters, mosaic artists and sculptors. Strange inventions and old objets d'art and honest tools mingle together - and grow from and alongside plants. Gay annuals and bright bedding jostle with runner beans and courgette plants, tomatoes and herbs.

This place is great. On the first weekend of every month most of the installations are open, and it's best to go along then. It's currently a bit of a trek to get to - you have to either drive or go to Canning Town on the Jubilee and take a 15 minute walk. But occasionally, just occasionally, they have a "festival" day and there's a free boat service from the O2 - and if you see one of those advertised, GO. It's a great afternoon out. The website is a bit out of date - it's still advertising the last festival - but I checked London Open House Weekend and it's going to be open then.

Laura Williams, the artist responsible for Aluna, tells me that since the Thames Clippers are now based around there, they can pretty much hop on a Clipper any time they want to go across to Greenwich. Wouldn't it be great if there was a boat service every weekend the art is open?

Greenwich Wildlife (4)

Jo has been watching a family of cormorants that "regularly perch on the old coal loading pier outside the power station, drying their wings and digesting their catch."

She notes that that must mean that Greenwich has a fair abundance of unseen wildlife - the fish in the Thames. So the river must be pretty healthy - especially for a city waterway. I still don't much fancy a swim though...

Rear Window (10)

I just love this shot, sent to me by 11 year-old Jake. It is, of course, East Greenwich Pleasaunce, which would make Jake's place somewhere in Chevening or Annandale Roads.

What a fantastic thing to look out on every morning. I remember a few years back when I decided that I really needed to get fit and enthusiastically started a 6.00am exercise regimen in the Pleasaunce. My enthusiasm for the project naturally didn't last very long at all, but one of the only nice things about the whole experience was seeing the park so still and beautiful (and surprisingly populous) at that time of day.

There is something almost magical about the place. Perhaps it's the quirky gravestones; perhaps it's that wonderful combination of the well-loved and the still relatively unknown.

I notice that it's just won a Green Flag award, and rightly so. It's wonderful.

What I really love about this picture is the use of the window as a frame for the subject - with photography like that, I do hope you entered the FoGP's photography competition recently, Jake...

Car Boot Sales

Stephanie asks:

"Do you or any of your readers know of any half-decent boot sales around the area? I'm looking to sell off some bits and bobs but am slightly wary of naively turning up in a semi-decent car and seen as rich-pickings. Any hints or tips would be gratefully received."

The Phantom has only ever tried car-booting twice - both were spectacular disasters. The first was in the multi-storey car park in Lewisham about ten years ago. It was a big commercial one and I seemed to be the only person not selling knocked-off designer handbags, miracle-wonder-gadgets or dodgy tea towels. It was horrid. I don't even know if it still exists, but if it does, avoid it.

The second time was even worse - in a scrap metal yard just off Brick Lane. It was unspeakably bad - I was a lamb to the slaughter.

My friends tell me the best ones to look out for are the much more genteel table-top sales that churches and schools often hold - far more 'genuine' sellers and less hassle all round. Also the money you pay for the pitch goes to charity. Look out for them in the local paper.

Other people may have more positive impressions, but I for one will never car-boot again. Ebay is ok, though you'll pay for absolutely everything. You can list stuff on Gumtree for nothing, and it's gaining popularity over Ebay which is rapidly becoming a dealers' domain - more like an online mall - great if you're looking for stuff, but not as quirky as it used to be.

And if you need to get rid of things but not actually sell them, charity shops are always happy to have good stuff (Bexley Cottage Hospice will collect furniture, though they can't take electric stuff, I don't think) and Freecycle, though occasionally frustrating when flaky people mis-use it, is a fantastic way of keeping stuff out of landfill.

Greenwich Wildlife (3)

Third in the Wildlife series, today I bring you Olly's picture of a heron who's been hanging around the river Ravensbourne, just beyond Brookmill Park. As Olly points out, "it's nice to see something completely unexpected sandwiched between built up, busy residential areas." Watch out pond owners, though. Goldfish are a favourite delicacy...

Benedict, on the other hand, has a mystery for us. He tells me "I can't identify these birds with my Tony Soper Book of British Birds . They are about 9 inches tip to tail and hop around on both legs while grubbing for bug stuff on the ground.I sometimes see them on the lawns by the Queens House."

Now, I am no birder, Phantom or otherwise, but I'm guessing that this chirpy little fellow is a mistle thrush, which proves that some things you learn when you're a kid do stick. I had a picture book with about ten birds in them which I loved so much I learned them off by heart. I could be wrong. But hey - who cares? He's a cutie..

One last question - can anyone help me? I've been sent Picasa web album pics by various people which I'm having trouble downloading. Does anyone have any suggestions?

The London Forager

I've been a Richard Mabey fan for years. Not long ago I gave away my copy of Food For Free then missed it so much I had to re-buy it. It was out of print at the time and was so bloomin' expensive I needed to make an awful lot of Damson Jam and Elderflower Fritters to justify it, but I guess that's what comes of having charity-shop purges on one's book collection...

It's back in print now, but before you rush to buy it, take a peek at the site Michael sent me, about the ancient tradition of foraging in London. I had no idea that I was doing anything other than gathering a few nuts and berries, but these guys have made it into an art form. They're based in Blackheath, so although it's supposed to cover the whole of London, Greenwich and Blackheath feature heavily on their as-yet smallish London Forager site.

Not to be confused with the characters who hang around supermarket bins (they're big in the States and have given themselves a fancy name which I can't remember) this lot follow the time-honoured country occupation of gathering free food from the hedgerows. They've updated themselves - less grass potage and mud pies, more Nettle Pesto, Lime Leaf Salad and Elderflower Champagne (which we used to make as kids - it tastes of Summer.)

On the Continent - France, Italy and the Balkans in particular, they've a long tradition of foraging, and they take it VERY seriously. I'll never forget the Italian guy who I asked to take me to find the best fungi on Hampstead Heath. He agreed, but only on condition I was blindfolded. He wasn't joking. And as we become more cosmopolitan, we're gradually seeing those skills being brought back over here, where we have all but forgotten how to do it.

There are sundry codes to follow - no nicking from people's gardens, for example, but mostly it's just common sense. Learning what toadstools you can eat before you set out will also save a trip to Casualty.

Last Autumn, I gathered damsons, elderberries, blackberries, rowan berries, wild apples, rose hips and sloes - all from the same lane. Sadly it was in Herefordshire. With a bit of luck, this site might help me do things a little closer to home. And any time they want to make Dandelion Bhajis out of the weeds in my 'lawn' they're welcome...

Oh - and if you want to check out Richard Mabey, I'm still having fun with my widgets:

Greenwich Wildlife (2)

Dave's back garden is clearly Greenwich's equivalent of Longleat. Maybe not as exotic - but certainly as varied. And it's got me thinking.

You know, I've been pondering a lot recently about the idea of middle and recent history. We don't record what is happening now, because it's 'normal' - everyday. Which is why trying to find (especially) middle-term history is so hard. No one bothered to save it at the time.

The context I was originally thinking in was in respect to architecture - there are NO old pictures of my street of which I am aware, for example, (though some snaps may exist in individuals' photo albums, I guess) and we have virtually no records of stuff that happened in, say, the early 20th Century - save the big events, like the 1933 Pageant. It was all - well - workaday, so no one thought to preserve it.

I've started taking pictures, saving memorabilia (only in a small way - don't worry - I'm not going to end up like one of those strange hermit-y people you see on Life of Grime...) and I urge you to do the same. Hopefully at some point we'll have a Heritage Centre that could actually take all our stuff for historians of the future.


Now. You may think I've gone off on another one of my tangents - but stay with me.

Dave's garden may LOOK like it only has common animals in it, but think about it. At one point in Greenwich, wild boar and wolves must have been 'common animals.' Dave tells me that the 'sparrowhawk' (he's not sure whether it's actually one or not) was seen quite often for a short time in 2006 and then disappeared.

We are gaining and losing wildlife all the time. The urban fox, which many consider an absolute bane while others love to spot, is one such. Dave tells me that even in the year or so since the Lovell's Wharf development began, the fox, which was a regular sight in his garden a street or so away, has disappeared. This picture was taken a couple of years ago. He doesn't see them now.

So what I'm saying is, I guess, that we mustn't take our heritage - whether it's wildlife, buildings or everyday customs - as a fixed given.

When I'm going through old material it's the memorabilia - the snaps - the lecture notes - the emphemeral leaflets - that give me the real insights into Greenwich's world. I have dozens of books about Henry VIII and the Old Royal Naval College. I have virtually nothing about "real Greenwich" - especially in the 20th Century. The shy foxy gentleman below may be 'common' now - don't suppose he always will be...

The Phantom Tree

You'll have to look at this picture carefully to see The Phantom Tree (as usual, click on it to get a larger image.) It's in the very middle of Greenwich Park - not far from the bandstand, and slightly down the hill. It's the middle of summer, and yet this tree is a mere skeleton. A neat skeleton, I'll grant you, in a perfect tree-shape, but a skeleton all the same. A ghostly shadow in crepuscularly purple shades.

Is it actually dead? Or maybe, by some freak of Nature, some strange variety that only sends forth shoots in winter? Whatever, I rather like it. It reminds me of those eerie leaf skeletons you sometimes find on country walks in Autumn, and I like to feel it is a little secret for true Greenwichers; seen and yet somehow not seen by most other park users.

You could walk past this secret little tree a million times and not even register it, but once you know it's there, I promise you'll never miss it. I hope it's allowed to stay, though I hold out little hope. Come the Olympics it will be first for the chop, I suspect, being neither historic nor, ahem, actually alive...

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.

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...

Not A Lot Of Allotments

I've been thinking about allotments (again...) There was a time when Greenwich was covered with them - look at old maps and you'll see that much of the Peninsula and quite a lot of space around Tunnel Avenue was given over to allotment and market gardening land.


Someone suggested I start a petition to get Greenwich Council to create more allotments, but I have a sneaking suspicion from a feature I read about those (much loved) allotments that were destroyed in Ilford last year, that although the law says the council has to provide sites, it's not specific about where they should be.


The thing is that Greenwich does have allotment sites available (or did last time I asked.) Problem is that they're right at the far end of the borough - a good car journey or several bus rides away, which makes them impractical to get to on a regular basis without further warming the globe and allotmenteers' tempers. They are situated where many people already have large houses and gardens so don't really need allotments too. Here, in more built-up Greenwich, where many have flats or micro-gardens, the demand is fierce and supply minuscule.


Trouble is, that if we tried to get Greenwich Council to provide sites on legal basis, I suspect they'd just say they were fulfilling their statutory duty by providing land in the outskirts.


But here's a thought. What if we were to suggest spare scraps of land which are currently just derelict - or that would never be used for housing anyway. Perhaps the council could purchase it cheaply or negotiate with the owners to create new sites, if they were put under enough pressure. After all allotments are trendy right now - it would give the council acres of things to write about in Greenwich Time now that they've knocked the pics of Chris Roberts on the head.


I'll start.


Railway land. This is a traditional source of allotments, especially Ooop North. There's that bit around Westcombe Park's North platform, for starters - South East Trains have, perhaps unwisely - planted Eucalyptus trees there - they will need to come down before they get much bigger or they'll undermine the houses. But create a couple of plots there and the extra people tending their allotments may help stop vandalism. On the South side is that bit of concreted land at the end of Westcombe Hill, just begging to be taken over.


Motorway Land. Slightly more prone to pollution, but plant lots of trees between the motorway and that strip of land alongside Tunnel Avenue, and there are a dozen or more plots to be had.


That Old Factory Site in Charlton. I've no idea what it was but it runs along Woolwich Road; ASDA runs along the back of it. It's effectively one enormous walled garden, as far as I can see. The only difference being that at the moment all it's producing is weeds and dead shopping trolleys.


The Peninsula. Has it all been bought by consortia? Or is there space to bring back what was historically a green and fertile veg plot?


Lovell's Wharf. Is it too late to slap a Section 106 on it requiring land for people who buy the flats to grow some food on it if they wish?


Do you know of an unloved space that could provide an allotment or two? Or am I just being Saddo Fantasist Phantom?

Rear Window - Greenwich Style (1)

Here is the first of the promised new occasional series where we'll be nosing out of people's back windows onto whatever they get to look out on - seeing Greenwich that little bit differently.

This is the view from David's gaff in Winforton St. He says " I absolutely love the view from this window -- it's my "study" (well, the place where the books and the computer are) and it's one of the things that made us immediately fall in love with the house."

I can see what he means. St Alfeges, Canary Wharf and the clocktower to name just three lovely things.

I've had a great response so far (thanks for all the lovely pics, guys) but I'd love to see even more of your views. They don't have to be as grand as David's - if all you get to see is next door's garden gnome that's fine by me. It's a sort of straw poll and we don't all get to see the big stuff. They don't need to be professional quality either - you've seen some of my own efforts. And if you want to keep us guessing as to your whereabouts I'm happy with that too. I just thought it would be fun to get a literal snapshot of how we live now...

Phantom Favourite Front Gardens (9)

Royal Hill, SE10

From the very eastern tip of Greenwich on PFFGs No8, hidden away in the Peninsula, through to much more familiar territory, this fab little cottage is like many of my fave front gardens in that it doesn't actually have a front garden to speak of. The sheer exuberance of just a couple of well-chosen window boxes and several plumes of brightly coloured Hollyhocks are enough to brighten what could be quite austere Georgian front, giving it that slight crossover feel. Smart town house or country cottage? You decide. I love it.

BTW I took this picture last year - so don't expect the view to be exactly the same just at the moment. The hollyhocks are high, but not out yet and the window boxes need to fill out. Give it a month or so. But if you're interested, I also notice it's for sale.

Oh, The Shame...

My name is Greenwich Phantom and I am a trash-o-holic.

It all started innocently enough. I had a Green Bin and a Blue Bin and bought a supply of black bags. I put the organic stuff in the Green Bin. I put the recycling in the Blue Bin and the Bad, Evil Stuff in the black bag. I was a Good Phantom. Honest.

But then it started. I didn't notice at first, but then came The Smell. I looked in the bottom of my blue top bin in search of the source of said whiff, and there it was - a single, super-dooper-cost-a-packet Bio-Groove-Deluxe-O-Matic bag full of potato peelings and cabbage leaves, sitting forlornly cooking in its own heat long after all the other, good little bags, had been collected. I had been missed out.

So I called the council. I had to give my address and house number. Ah yes. They have us all on file. And the answer? My innocent-looking little bag was, according to their records,

CONTAMINATED

Oh My God. What on earth had I done? Had I deposited nuclear waste into the food chain? Secretly slipped a dead dog into my bin? Cleaned it out with Cilit Bang?

No. My super-duper bio-groove-deluxe-o-matic liner was merely the wrong kind of bag.

I had stupidly seen the words "bio" and "degradable" and assumed that biodegradable was good. I should have chosen "compostable." The difference? That would be an ecumenical matter.

Of course, I did know about the compostable thing and I've always made an effort to get the right bags (I just can't face putting slimy food remains directly in the bin and there's only so much you can wrap in old copies of Greenwich Time.) But I blew it. One second's loss of concentration in Sainsbury's (I long ago gave up trying to buy any from the council) can lead to misery and rejection. My super-duper-bio-groove-deluxe-O-matic bags aren't even black so the council won't take them as non-recyclable bags.

Oh why didn't I see it? Why didn't I notice before I went on the Council blacklist (which must be gigantic by now) as being The Evil Household That Doesn't Recycle? The villainous Phantom determined to CONTAMINATE the world because I just don't care if we all go to hell in a handcart...

I should have noticed the second I got the bag out of the little green bin and it wasn't dripping with goo (That's the real difference between compostable and bio-degradable, btw - 'compostable' is little better at keeping-in slime than a string bag...) Now I have the indignity of an uncollected bin and I will be marked for life. How will I bear the shame?

Folks. Learn from one who has been there. Shop wisely for your compostables. You never know who's watching...

Open Gardens - On or Off?

Green-fingered Phantom-readers may remember the discussion about The Pagoda a couple of months back. At the time I promised to let you know the one night of the year it's open for charity as part of the National Gardens Scheme. If you recall, three gardens in close proximity to each other open on the same evening, and a very civilised event it is too, as you quaff a glass or two of wine on a warm June night, drinking in the atmosphere and the perfumed lushness, slowly slipping into quiet oblivion as the 'charitable donations' mount up...

Well, as usual, I've bought the deeply user-unfriendly Yellow Book, but Horrors! There's only one listed in there.

28, Granville Park, SE13, in between Lewisham and Blackheath was the furthest of the three, but no great distance to walk from one to the other. It's a charming garden on several levels with different 'rooms' - lovely indeed. I remember a lovely round lawn and a sweet terrace with palms, as well as a crazy-paved secret bit at the end. It will be open on Friday 13th June from 6.00pm until 9.00pm, price £3.50.

But of 12, Eliot Vale, SE3 (a wheelchair-friendly garden that weaves the visitor in and out of different styles of plants and a high-level pond) and the Pagoda itself, both usually open on those nights, there is no mention.

Why? I have no idea. Maybe they're not exhibiting this year. Perhaps the owners have moved. Or - and this is a wild guess - it could be that they ARE still open, but not part of NGS. I note in the Yellow Book from last year that 12 Eliot Vale were giving part of their funds to a different charity than the official NGS causes. I wonder whether they've decided to donate all their money to the other causes this year and thus made themselves ineligible for the NGS?

Does anyone know? Are these gardens all going to be open on June 13th? Or any other time? I'd miss my annual fix of floral fun...

There's one more garden listed that's not a million miles away - the Hither Green end of Blackheath. 41 Southbrook Road SE12, open Sunday 8th June 2-5pm. I've not been so I have no idea what it's like. Oh - and I'll be looking out for the Bexley Cottage Hospice events too - though they are even further afield...

Phantom Favourite Front Gardens (8)

Alderburgh St, SE10

Right down the bottom of the Peninsula, tucked away between the various industrial estates and the A102 M flyover, two dainty little streets quietly exist in that strange place that is neither Greenwich nor Charlton, but something all of its own. Fearon St and Aldeburgh St could just be tatty little nothings tacked onto an unexciting business area - but they're not. The residents keep them neat and tidy and there are lots of little touches in them that makes me realise that this is a community that likes being where it is, and has a little unique flavour to it.

There are some sweet window boxes and filled tubs, early-days hedges and tidy flowerpots, but my favourite is an unassuming Victorian terraced house on Aldeburgh St with topiary grandeur punching above its weight.

Two great boxes of box, stepped like Aztec pyramids, a pair of square 'braziers' burst with an unfettered 'flame' of tufty growth on top from a simple brick wall. There is nothing else to muddy the view - no extra flowers, ornaments, hanging baskets, gnomes, wishing wells or birdbaths - and that's what makes this statement so bold.

A gardener of taste lives here.

Deer Me

Benedict knows I like a good gulley as much as the next Phantom and kindly sent me this interesting conduit for identification. It's in Greenwich Park, just in that little hollow that comes down from One Tree Hill and just up from the Queen's Oak. I've never been too sure of it myself, but The Friends of Greenwich Park's website came to my rescue.

It's a deer trough, installed in 1858, pretty much where the keeper's cottage stood. He's a very old pic of the place:

A.D. Webster (from whom I culled the pic) reckons it probably dated back to The Commonwealth or just before; I find it a very curious to imagine Greenwich Park with such a large series of buildings in it. So did the Victorians - they demolished it in 1853.

Webster tellls me the first mention of deer in the park is January 1510. A Eustace Browne was paid the princely sum of £13 6s 8d to stock the Park with deer for Henry VIII to chase around. They were clearly not fast enough for Bluff King Hal, as five years later he had some "quick" deer transferred from Eltham (I know, I know, it might have just meant 'not dead' but the thought of extra-speedy deer makes me smile...)

Queen Elizabeth enjoyed hunting there, and Sir Walter Scott (admittedly about as renowned for historical accuracy as I am...) talks of King James hunting in the park too. It must have been one of the only things James did there - he didn't really care for Greenwich - it was too cold and damp for his many ailments.

Everyone had their eye on a quick buck - and during the Commonwealth Cromwell had to set up a special task force to prevent poaching. He eventually got bored and decided to flog the whole park and its contents to one John Parker, though of course on the Restoration Parker lost his prize.

A.D. Webster talks of the pollution that threatened the deer during Victorian times - the factories pumping out smoke caused all manner of "deleterious effects of an impure atmosphere" and nearly did for them. In 1896 they numbered just 47, but the herd had increased to 150 by 1902.

Of course at that time they were allowed to roam all over the park, which delighted visitors. Their keepers were less delighted when the visitors killed them with kindness by feeding them some extraordinary snacks. One poor thing died of eating "too much gooseberry tart;" another's stomach was found to contain "two hatfuls of orange peel," in just two of the fatalities caused by picnickers sharing their lunch - which even included, I'm sad to say, venison. Here's an Edwardian chap sharing his mutton pie, scotch egg, battenburg and cheesy wotsits with a new friend:

With the coming of first the motor car, and then larger volumes of visitors, the deer had to be enclosed. At first it was just at night, but later they were relegated to the enclosure in the South-East corner.

The two herds (red and fallow) are very small indeed now. but they're still lovely to see. There are two places (apart from the little observation hut which isn't often open to the public) where you can get a not-bad view of them. The obvious one is not far from Blackheath gate, with a crazy-paved area and seats. The other, you have to seek out. Go into the Victorian flower garden and keep the thickets on your right (or your left if you're entering from the Maze Hill entrance) There is a little pathway through the trees to another spot with a seat where you can see the wilderness where the deer are. There's a little seat there too.

Sadly they're very well kept-in - two (perhaps three now?) layers of wire mesh, which means getting a good picture is nigh-on impossible. Here's the best I could do a couple of years ago in the snow:

Wisteria Walk

Benedict and I have been discussing the joys of wisteria, and waiting for a good couple of weeks for that spectacular moment when the utterly stunning example of this wonderful climber on the corner Gloucester Circus and Royal Hill is in its full glory.

Well - I got the email entitled "It's out!" this morning - and I now urge you to go and see this mauve monster in all its purple pomposity. Even Benedict himself would admit that mere photography can't do this one justice. My favourite view is from across the road by the shops (Benedict ogles it whilst queuing in Drings) but he got right under it for this shot (and was caught at it by Kirsty...)

Indeed, since we all seem to be whipping ourselves into wisteria-frenzy (well - ok, one or two of you have enjoyed the pics; that's frenzied enough for a poor old Phantom who needs a cup of tea and a sit down at the sight of a bunch of glads...) how about we create ourselves a Wisteria Walk?

For example, in Straightsmouth, a little purple haze goes a long way to softening that building site in the background:

Benedict also points out a rather fab example in Hyde Vale...

...and this splendid fellow in Park Vista:

More will be added as I find 'em, then I'll arrange them into a walk for wispy wisteria womantics... Suggestions welcomed. And don't restrict yourselves here, folks. I'm no Wisteria fascist. I'll take anything interesting - laburnum, clematis - whatever - if it's lovely, wheel it in...

Peninsula Pollution?

P and his mates down the pub have been putting on their conspiracy hats...

"I heard a rumour at the pub the other evening... when talk slid along (as it does) to cover various disjointed yet weighty topics, we entered a residential/environmental phase of the discussion. At which point, one of the group asserted that the B&Q on the Peninsula was having problems with pollution leaching up from underneath.

To support this, they referred to the slightly buckling pavement in front of it. This hardly speaks to a "nice" aspect of Greenwich... but I'm certainly interested to know if it's true or not. I wonder if this is something you might throw out to your wider readership to confirm/deny?"

The Phantom is largely unconvinced. Certainly it all sits on top of a load of ex-industrial nastiness and there is only a 'cap' on top of it, but I would really assume (or maybe I should say 'hope') that it's pretty thick (the peninsula doesn't seem to be any higher than anywhere else but it is build on marshland, so maybe it all evens out.) Those giant retail sheds can't have much in the way of foundations; I would have thought that the pollution just couldn't get through there.

I suspect the buckling of the pavement is just down to bad building - and very annoying it is too, if you're trying to push an already recalcitrant trolley along it. Blackheath Bugle went over just now to see what all the fuss is about and took some pics of the pavement, which Blogger won't let me upload. Grrr. BB asked in B&Q what was going on with the pavement:

"I asked the cashier about the paving outside, and he said that it was about to be renovated, but he didn't say why. It's not just B&Q -all the paving next to the shops there is wonky, and also the tarmacby the bus stops has warped leaving large puddles next to the seats."

Now, If you'd asked me about the high-rise flats I might be a tiny little more concerned. They must have to have quite deep foundations and I can't see that the 'cap' can be very thick underneath them. But I'm no engineer and my physics sucks. Maybe someone else here has more of a grasp than me (not hard...)

I wouldn't put it beyond being true. I have an engineer friend who was brought in as an expert on a project up north which was going to build houses on an ex-landfill site that had been landscaped. He refused to sign it off because he was concerned of methane leaks and shifting soil as stuff decomposed, and got sacked from the project. Another 'expert' was brought in to rubber-stamp it. If there is something nasty going on there, then I doubt anyone in charge is keen to advertise it, but in the case of B&Q at least, I think we're pretty safe.

Phantom Favourite Front Gardens (8)

Trinity Grove, SE10

We haven't had a fave front garden for ages - mainly because nobody's place looks much cop in the winter months, but now the sun is beginning to peep shyly from behind the black clouds, The Phantom is once again on the rove, looking for things to delight a jaded eye...

Trinity Grove is less a favourite front garden than a favourite front street of mine. This is clearly a road whose residents not only adore living there, but actually like living with each other. Virtually every house has something outside it - a pot, a window box, a tub, a trough. And what's so great about it is that this is despite not one of those little houses actually having a front garden to decorate.

Perhaps it's the very narrowness of the street (cars could go down it, and it has yellow lines that imply that they do - but it really isn't wide enough), perhaps it's the fact that there's only a handful of the tiny Georgian/early Victorian terraces left clinging to the rock of West Greenwich's extraordinary topography, the rest having been cleared for flats further down the hill, that promotes the impression I get that this street really is a little self-contained neighbourhood.

If you walk round the back of the western ones, their back gardens just drop away down Greenwich's equivalent of Cheddar Gorge (we are, after all, in Maidenstone Hill/ Blackheath Cavern territory here) so the front gardens take on an even more important aspect as outdoor spaces. I imagine neighbours sitting out here together with a glass of wine or a giant bowl of rich pasta of a summer evening, gathred around the bench by the little street goddess on the corner, chewing the fat, gossiping about the antics of the Big Town far away down the hill.

And my absolute favourite bit? This old claw-and-ball-foot bath, filled to the brim with whatever's in season and surrounded by honesuckle. It's not quite up to speed yet, but visit it in the summer and you'll be enchanted.

I've wanted to feature Trinity Grove for ages, but because it's such a narrow street and because I'm such a rubbish photographer, I was totally unable to get any kind of pic that did it justice. Happily Benedict has come to my rescue with these fabbo shots.

More Fave Front Gardens to come, but in the meanwhile I'd say Trinity Grove really merits a walk one warm summer evening. Enjoy...

Little Green Space

Now as you know, I'm not in the habit of doing promotions for companies - old or new - I consider that to be the job of the free mags - but I'm making an exception just this once, not least because the founder, Richard Campbell, has come up with an offer I can't refuse, neatly circumventing my 'no ads' rule...

Little Green Space is just two days old - a local company that plants up lovely window boxes for instant Spring loveliness. I am a big fan of fab front gardens (as you may have noticed) and anything that makes Greenwich look nicer as I walk through it is good by me. It doesn't matter whether you've got a giant front garden or no garden at all, I am yet to find someone who doesn't have windows...

They deliver ready-planted window boxes, (or a colourful tub) so even if your fingers are any shade of the rainbow except green, you too can have a place that would be worthy of a Phantom Favourite Front Garden...

So - to Richard Campbell's idea. He's offered to give a window box away free to a local place that needs cheering up - a charity, group, elderly folks' home - that sort of thing.

So I thought I'd ask you - do you have any ideas for somewhere that would like such a sweet gift? Check out their website www.littlegreenspace.com and let me know...

The Best Shed in Greenwich...

...has to be this one at Ballast Quay. I've written about this fabulous little garden before - mainly the very odd little memorial to the animal victims of foot & mouth dying "not of the disease, but of the cure..."

If I'm honest I know virtually nothing about this lovely little rural corner of the city riverside, but there is something wonderfully bucolic about the simple tree, the ivy-covered memorial, those terracotta jars, crumbling stone steps - and, of course that shed. I love the fact that it has city railings one side, the river Thames the other, yet its low-lying black-shiplap walls and lichen-covered roof are straight out of deepest Dorset.

I imagine the inside, neat rows of ancient terracotta pots, regimented in musty wooden seed trays; the slightly musty, earthy odour mingling with faint reminders of creosote and linseed oil.

In the corner, I see a battered leather armchair, moulded to a half-century's worth of backsides, aged stuffing bursting from cat-clawed arms.

There are, of course, a couple of chipped mugs, a much-used Thermos and a packet of Rich Teas, nestled in a rusty biscuit tin behind a propped-up spade and a pile of seed catalogues. By the window in the roof, a few small seedlings enjoy what little watery warmth the March sun can afford.

I have never seen anyone in this garden, not even perched on the little green-painted cast-iron seat outside my dream shed enjoying a cup of PG Tipps in the setting sun. Someone told me that it's looked after by a lady who lives opposite - presumably in those cute brick houses with the little lattice arches, but anything more - well - my imagination has to fill in the rest.

You know what? Just like that roof garden on the peninsula, I don't want to know what's really in that shed. I could only be disappointed. But I will always stop a moment as I pass that place, poke my nose through the railings and wonder...

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...

A Murder of Crows

Benedict's Murder of Crows...

Benedict points out the sudden onslaught of Spring:

I'm often suprised to see a murder of crows on the clock tower, usually in the autumn, but the unseasonaly early spring weather has instigated an unprecidented conflagration. Any ideas?

The Phantom replies:

That is one enigmatically highbrow epistle, Benedict. Did you actually mean to write to The Times? The Phantom is currently donning tweeds and a deerstalker to pen a worthy reply ;-)

Indeed Spring is portentiously early this year, perhaps, one might suppose, to render some recompense for the failure last year, of Primavera to peer in April's front at all...

...Phew - I can't keep that up for much longer. By the way, I love the collective noun. Did you know that, according to Wikipedia (which is never wrong, of course) you could also have used cauldron, caucus, congress, cowardice, hover, murder, muster, parcel, or storytelling when referring to crows?

But back to Spring. I did notice the daffs were fully in bloom in the National Maritime Museum yesterday, and that a pair of blackbirds are getting it together behind my gaff, warm spring days replacing the need for flowers, chocolates and Barry White Albums.

Any more springlike indcations folks? Sightings of yellowhammers or recordings of the first cuckoo should be addressed to The Editor...

Phantom Favourite Front Gardens (7)

Greenwich Millennium Village

Front gardens are a state of mind. Sometimes they're not actually on ground level. Or classically laid-out. Or even at the front. My favourites are not always bursting over with flowers (that one in Whitworth St, for example, full of plastic gnomes, plaster fairies and faux wishing wells lifts my heart every time I walk past) but they all have that something that makes me look twice. That makes my imagination work. In the case of this particular roof garden on the Peninsula my delight is in what I can't see.

What's up there? It's clearly a terrace to be used. A combination of evergreens and palms, chosen for architectural restraint and ease of upkeep provides an elegant basic backdrop for whatever the owners want to do up there. I'll wager it's not gardening. And that's absolutely fine. If I had the view that they must have, I'd want to use the area for parties, swanky events and get-togethers. It's a social space. I like to think parasols and sun-loungers. Hell - for all I know there could be a swimming pool up there.

I love it for the way it teases my imagination. I have images of a mini Kensington Roof Gardens up there, of fairy-lit champgane soirees and secluded romantic moments. Those wooden fences could hide anything. Even the brutalist air vent-y thing works against this restrained, carefully chosen garden.

There's a well-worn rule in garden design that dictates the maker should ensure the viewer never sees everything. That they are left to always imagine there's more, to force them to use their fantasies. This garden succeeds in spades. I have no idea what's up there and I don't want to know.

Oh and by the way I especially don't want to know if it's really full of kiddies' sand pits, paddling pools and rotary clothes-dryers, like everyone else's. Let a Phantom dream on this sunny Friday morning...

Greenwich Gardeners' World

Jen asks:

I can't wait for Spring when I can get out into the garden and see green again. I'd thought it would be nice to try making a 'Greenwich Garden' with influences from the area's history. Any suggestions?

The Phantom rubs hands with glee and replies:

What a great question. Spring is definitely champing at the bit now, isn't it. I like the idea of a themed garden. Hope you put one in the front too so we can all enjoy it. If it's especially good, I'll feature it as one of the Phantom's Favourite Gardens...

You don't say how large your space is. For pure fantasy reasons I'm going to assume it's huge; you can always scale-down if yours is more of the average size in Greenwich - i.e. tiny.

For a really large garden (and I know some people do have them - my greedy eye lasciviously sweeps the property sections every week - the words "120-ft garden" makes my heart leap...) a sweet chestnut would be a wonderful thing, reminiscent of the fabulous old trees planted by Le Notre (well, one of his flunkys, obviously) during the redesign of Greenwich Park in the 17th Century. These beautiful trees were a passion, nay, an obsession with John Evelyn, who used to take them round to friends houses in his one-man campaign to get a chestnut in every garden.

A friend of mine (with no previous gardening experience, and who lives in a high-rise) has recently heavily got into bonsai which got me to thinking about trying to create a compromise with trees for people who like trees but only have handkerchief gardens. A giant flower pot, a small tree and some careful pruning of both roots and branches each year could surely create a lovely specimen plant - fine for a centerpiece. If you don't fancy chestnuts, perhaps a grand old oak, like the one Elizabeth I sat and Henry VIII frolicked under.

If you want fruit, how about a medlar or a mulberry tree? These wonderful old plants can both be found in the back garden at Trinity Almshouses, and there are mulberries in Sayes Park (the sorry site of John Evelyn's gaff) and right by Inigo Jones's loo at Charlton House. You can't eat medlars until they're 'bletted,' (read 'rotten') by which point you wouldn't actually want to eat them but they make tasty jam and pie fillings. Mulberries are fiddly to pick but also make good preserves and tarts.

Right. Onto flowers. Some tulips, perhaps, to remind us of the Tulip Staircase at The Queen's House? Or daffodils, for the yellow carpets of them that grow in stiff rows outside the house in spring? My faves are the ones that grow up the hill leading to the Observatory, though I'm also rather fond of the handful of naturalised crocuses that spatter the grass near the Pepys Centre.

Bela Court was originally part of Duke Humphrey's masculine stronghold, but it was made all pretty and girly by Margeurite of Anjou who decorated everything from stained glass windows to tiles with daisies (her flower) and planted bowers of various blooms. She begrudgingly included a few hawthorn buds for her estranged husband.

Henry VIII liked masques. On one occasion, he used a dancefloor which had a cloth lain on it embroidered with gold lilies. Other popular medieval/ Tudor flowers you could consider are gillyflowers, or "Sops-in-wine," used to flavour drinks with their clove-like perfume. They're better known to us as carnations. There exists a charming painting of Elizabeth Woodville surrounded by gillyflowers and the ubiquitous roses.

On the subject of roses - you could always go to Rangers House for inspiration:

or get a variety with a good name. Rosa Christopher Marlowe might be a nice choice if you're more over the Deptford side.

Georgian Greenwich is a bit more difficult. Rococo in small gardens has to be done with care or it starts to look cheap, however much cash you lay out. In the meanwhile, take a peek at the back of the Fan Museum for a very English take on the Oriental style which was also popular. I love the detail which isn't always obvious at first. There's an even more impressive one at the Pagoda in Blackheath which opens for charity occasionally. But by then, it was nudging into the Regency, and everything had softened a bit so you can get away with a lots of flowers too.

If your place is Victorian (and odds-on in Greenwich it will be) you can have great fun. They went absolutely berserk. The fabulous formal beds at the top of Greenwich Park are almost certainly toned-down for the modern eye - nineteenth century fashions were definitely on the gaudy side. They loved bright, acidic colours which to us are frankly a bit much. Bedding's a bit outre these days, but done well it can still be a great look expecially in front gardens which can get neglected. I'm sure the wheelbarrow of fortune will turn soon and formal beds will be back. If you fancied, you could have a fernery, or shrubbery, like the path up the west side of Greenwich Park, or even have a nice greenhouse like Colonel North's Winter Gardens at Eltham.

When it comes down to it, virtually everywhere you go in Greenwich you can be inspired by wonderful greenery. Keep an eye out and visit widely on Open Gardens Days. When you've done your Greenwich garden, do make sure you open it for charity on an occasional basis too, like this one I visited at the top of Crooms Hill last year...

New Lamps for Old!!

So - it's not quite the end of panto season after all. Wicked Abanazar (well, wicked Uncle Ken, actually) is out peddling his wares at B&Q this weekend, inviting all you Aladdins out there to swap your new lamps for old.

Basically you take two of your old ordinary light bulbs to B&Q(they don't have to be working - but let's face it - who hoards dead light bulbs?) where they exchange them for low-energy versions. I did it this morning, and even though I've been rubbing my new lamps as hard as I can and I still can't make a genie appear, it still seems like a good trade to me.

I'm curious to know what the deal between Ken and B&Q is - presumably not everyone was like me and left with just the light bulbs - it must be quite a money spinner for B&Q.

Oh well - still worth a go. Get on over there - maybe yours will be the lucky lamp and Robin Williams will grant you three wishes...

The Herb Garden, Greenwich Park

Warning:

If you're ScaredofChives, or of a similarly delicate constitution, look away now. We are about to enter Herb County...

Tucked away in the North-west corner of Greenwich Park lies a little garden. Behind low, dainty railings, and separated by parterres of box, a modern Tudor-knot contains herbs for every sense, billowing out their frond-y, frothy abundance in a heady green-and-yellow haze, a gentle breeze rustling the ferny leaves in a soft murmur.

Well. Ok. maybe not just at the moment. It's more like a bunch of dark green boxes full of dead brown-and-black stalks and grizzled old earth, scoured by a howling gale. But in these dark January days a Phantom needs a few memories of long, hot summers and long, fragrance-filled evenings to light the way through to Spring.

Memories, for example, of that little fountain in the middle - I think it's supposed to be a thistle - but it could be a tulip or even a pineapple. No matter. The tinkle from that tiny pond twinkles in my mind and I can feel the warmth of the sun on my back, even if it's actually just my cardi, an extra blanket and a fan heater.

It's not that old (the herb garden, of course, not the fan heater, which is antediluvian.) There's precious little written about it anywhere - naturally - I'm beginning to get used to a total blank-er-oo whenever I try to find anything out about stuff in Greenwich. It's as though just putting something lovely somewhere is enough - when surely part of charm of a thing, whether a statue, sculpture, street furniture - or a garden - is in its history?

The new Greenwich Park walks leaflet (which I will be reviewing as soon as I've had the chance to try out one or two of the suggested route-marches) comes to the rescue - a bit. The garden was first planted in 1969 but tarted up in 1993, with 30 herbs. That fountain, designed by (and yea! - we have a sculptor) Kate Malone, was added in 2000.

The Phantom is in reflective mood today, swaddled in blankets and thick socks, leaving you with a lovely photo to remind you that Spring's not that far away now. Honest.

Christmas Tree Disposal

Sue asks:

As the Council are collecting trees AFTER 21st Jan (when most people will take them down this weekend!) where is the nearest place to take them for recycling, as I don't have a garden to leave it in. Is it in Plumstead?

The Phantom replies:

Hmm that does seem rather late - I'm sure it was earlier last year. It could have something to do with them being really busy this year implementing the new general collection arrangements (of which I thoroughly approve even it is a teensy bit more work) but it certainly makes it awkward for people with flats or no gardens.

Your best bet is either the Re-use and Recycling site in Nathan Way (quite an interesting experience if you're not there at a busy time - I would avoid Saturday and Sunday mornings if at all possible - best weekend time is during a major sporting event or a Charlton match) or, if you're near Thompsons Garden Centre in Welling you can dump it in a special area there (I would turn down/off your sound before going onto this particular website if I were you.)

Good luck - and Happy Twelfth Night!

The Phantom's Favourite Front Gardens (6)

The Fan Museum, Crooms Hill, SE10

Ok, folks, I'm being all fluffy again today and waxing lyrical about a lovely little secret corner of Greenwich which many pass by (its being slightly set away from the road) and yet adds, in its quiet way, a little moment of happiness for me - and, I hope, others who pass by. Aaahhh...

After yesterday's entry which is more likely to be seen by locals than tourists, todays, I'll bet, gets viewed by visitors and the rest of us only notice it when our mums are visiting...

As you will probably know by now I'm most impressed by front yards that have very little obvious potential, but which their owners have not given up on - the one in Angerstein Lane that has virtually no light, for example - or the tiny one in Maze Hill that most would think was far too small for a formal landscape - or even the one at St Alfege's Passage that has no 'garden' at all.

Basements - however pretty the houses themselves might be - can be excuses for doing nothing - no one's going to notice so why bother? So it's double joy when someone does something good with one.

Now, admittedly, if you're going to have a basement front garden, Crooms Hill ain't a bad place to have it - but I always get a little frisson of pleasure whenever I pass the Fan Museum and look down. Giant sword ferns and potted evergreens jostle with hanging baskets of annuals and what looks suspiciously like an overgrown house plant. The little cast iron table and chairs(which may or may not belong to the people next door - I don't care - it's the overall effect through that arch that counts and if neighbours can co-operate to create a nice view for the rest of us I'm not complaining) looks wonderfully inviting even if no one ever sits in it and even practical things like the security bars at the window, the floodlight and the rolled hose are part of the pleasure of this place.

The Phantom smiles serenely.

Favourite Front Gardens (4)

St Alfege's Guesthouse, 16, St Alfege's Passage SE10

I've been a bit of a grumpy old phantom of late so I thought I'd cheer myself up with a favourite front garden. This one's at St Alfege's Guesthouse, which still has to be the funkiest place to stay in Greenwich. One day I'll actually make it inside (so difficult to be a tourist in your own town...) but if the pics on the website and this garden are anything to go by, it must be cool indeed.

What I love about this place is that they 'officially' have no garden at all to speak of. The rest of the places in that particular bit of passage open out onto the street, but Number 16 has no intention whatsoever of being without greenery. A little area has been created using the natural street furniture - railings and the lamp post, a collection of giant pots and a tempting-looking bench.

Inside, there's not an inch of space between the plants - save for another, hidden little bench. Tropical - date palms and banana plants - and classic evergreens, they may be mixed in 'climate' but they do keep to a palette - just green - and very cool it is too. It's ever-so slightly jumbled and bohemian-looking with the odd weed tolerated rather than ripped out, which keeps it from looking prissy, and I enjoy it every time I walk past.

My heart gives a little leap whenever I'm staying somewhere in the world, am searching for my hotel and I see an entrance like this. It's a sign that I have made the right choice.

In this particular case I can't tell you whether you have made the 'right choice' if you have chosen to stay at St Alfege's - I have never stayed there myself. But all the signs are that it will be fab - and you can guarantee that if you choose one of the faceless multinational business-hotel alternatives, you will have made the wrong choice.

There is, of course, an opportunity to get a sneaky peek into the Guesthouse on, I believe, Monday, when it will be part of a fly-on-the-wall documentary The Hotel Inspectors. In the meanwhile, enjoy another example of an interesting and quirky Greenwich Front Garden...

Glenister Green Revisited (well - sort of...)

A few months ago I was convinced that Glenister Green - the dull bit of land in between the old folks homes and Mister Fast Fry on Woolwich Road - was actually a cheap holographic image created to cover the tracks of an alien space ship, and that any unsuspecting fool who set foot within those sinister gates would be swallowed up and experimented on (see "Open Spaces")in horrifc fashion.

There is still something very sinister about this scrap of land, especially at night, when although completely visible from the road, the lonely pools of light and the paths that lead round and round lend it an otherworldly atmosphere. I won't go on about all that again - but I have, in the past couple of weeks, noticed that it's not quite as horrid as it has been.

Leaves on the trees have made a big difference, of course, but some man-made improvements have helped too. The mural that used to be outside the hospital has been spruced up (though the tiles are still too far apart, making it look like it used to be somewhere else...) and it now has a plaque (not that I've actually looked at it of course - I'm still not actually setting foot in there. The aliens still loom large in my imagination.) The grass (well, weeds, but it's all green, isn't it) gets the occasional cut and some of the low shrubs that were planted when the place got its 'redesign' have bushed out a bit. It's not enhanced by the giant monstrosity that is the extension of Mister Fast Fry - easily the same size again as the original building and the most uninspired design imaginable, but that's a Planning thing, not Parks.

The biggest difference is that I have actually seen people in there. Granted it's nearly always slack-jawed teenagers loitering round the bins, who have kindly added some enhancements of their own in the form of art-free grafitti but it is Life. And that encourages me. Unless, of course, the aliens have invented a cunning patch for their hologram program that populates their creepy dimensional timeshift gate thingy...

Ruxley Manor Garden Centre

I have been looking for a fabulous garden centre for some time now. Given the price of land around Greenwich it's hardly surprising that there isn't much more than the piss-poor garden section of B&Q (Homebase is slightly better) but if you go out just a few miles there are quite a lot of them, some more impressive than others. There is one near the M25 which will remain nameless which didn't seem to have a plant in it that wasn't diseased when I visited, but others are at least clean and have a reasonable selection.

But I wasn't prepared for the sheer size of Ruxley Manor Garden Centre. Lovely Anita from House of Beauty told me about it and I thought I'd give it a try. The website looks nice enough but can't show just how big this place is. As you go in, you pass what turns out to be the overflow car park (the 'proper' one is next to the entrance.) What I like is that they have made an effort everywhere. Most garden centres have plenty of plants and then might do one or two displays, the rest being -well - a bit scruffy, really. This place, from the moment you go in. has well-cared for beds and smart displays. Presumably you pay for it in the prices, but I didn't notice many stupidly expensive items (and you know what a skinflint I am...)

If it goes outdoors, Ruxley will have it. There are huge sections of different kinds of plants - palms and ferns, fruit bushes, architectural talking points, perennials, annuals - you name it, they've got it. There are all manner of hard landscape-y things, outbuildings, summer houses, interesting ideas for back gardens from Japanese minimalism to country cottage charm. I particularly liked the dancing teddy bear topiary.

Indoors, every garden tool, accessory and frivolity jostles outdoor wear, conservatory furniture, kitchen stuff and dining clutter. There's a big aquatic and pets department I didn't go into - not my kind of thing, but I'm sure it's the same quality as the rest.

Plenty of loos, a cafe (Anita recommends the panini) and an intriguing-looking Italian Restaurant, which is open not just for lunch but evening too, implying that it's a proper restaurant - we'll see - it's now on my long and growing list of eateries for review.

The old manor itself (more like a lovely farmhouse than a traditional 'manor') isn't open to the public, but is a pretty place, and its attendant chapel, now totally dead, its windows covered in chicken wire to prevent bird damage, is also worth a look - it has a curious ruined tower next door.

I reckon this place is well worth a visit (if you're into gardens of course - if you're not, I'd give it a wide berth...) It's about 20 minutes from Greenwich by car, but much better than the same old, same old (and the horrid queues) at B&Q...

www.ruxley-manor.co.uk

Hortus

Blackheath Village, SE3

This is the kind of yummy, rather posh gardening shop that it's unlikely we'll see in Greenwich just at the moment, the nearest equivalent being the lovely florist in Royal Hill, though it's not quite the same. It is extremely tasteful in every respect ( a tad too tasteful, possibly?) and I wander around it like a little girl in Claire's Accessories, dazzled by all the finery but wondering whether my pocket money will actually stretch to anything at all.

To be honest that's not a very good analogy at all. Claire's Accessories sells cheap tat and even the poorest little ballerina can normally afford something. But cheap - in any sense of the word - is not what Hortus is about. Quality is the name of the game here, and though you'll pay for it, there is no doubt that whatever you pick up here will last longer than one party for under-10s. (That's enough dodgy analogies - Ed.)

OK, back to the gardening. Outside Hortus sits a selection of beautiful, fashionable plants, ranging from the simple to the exotic, and another selection of lovely, lovely pots to put them in. I am always particularly taken with the blue-and-white ceramic pots that come pre-weathered. I WILL buy one of those at some point.

Inside, there are lots of gardening accessories that I would say are intended more as presents - either for friends or as a personal treat - than as basics. Gorgeous gloves, pastel tools, curious ornaments and objets d'art. Not sure about the terracotta 'slug catcher' (because if it works, at some point it needs to be emptied - yeuch) but all the unusual gadgets and pretty versions of old Victorian curios are perfect for a gardening friend.

If you're not into gardens but you like being IN gardens, there is loads of 'outdoor living' stuff - barbecues, picnic gear and dozens and dozens of candles and candle holders. Once again, this is no bargain basement, but it's all LOVELY and lovely has to be paid for.

Out back there's a tiny gravel area with all the architectural plants, fibreclay and cast iron planters in traditional and contemporary designs and curious ornaments. I particularly like the potting bench (obviously not for sale) which really feels like it gets used.

Back inside again, they have a little selection of cheese and wine accessories - like labels for cellars, decanters and cheese knives. There's a small selection of books and other gifty-type things - everything beautifully and tastefully displayed. It's somewhere to visit for birthday presents. And one day I will actually buy something for me...

Apparently they also do floristry, landscaping and garden maintenance, though the website is a bit minimal on detail...

www.hortus-blackheath.co.uk

Favourite Front Gardens (3)

A totally different favourite today. I always adore walking past number 39 Whitworth St for its sheer exuberance. There's no fancy topiary shapes, no gorgeous country cottage charm, no formal splendour. Instead, behind the neat picket fence and fancy edging over a gravel base, bursts a veritable explosion of artificial flowers, jolly statuettes of animals, scarecrows, windmills and, of course, the nigh-on obligatory garden gnomes.

I am sure it's not everyone's cup of tea, but for me this is an expression of someone's personality that is just as exciting and valid as some of my other favourite gardens in Greenwich. This is a person who knows their own taste and is confident enough to absolutely go with it. No wishy-washy single gnomes or discreet plastic flowers masquerading as the real thing. The owner of this front garden likes the colour and vibrancy of artificiality and clearly gets a lot of pleasure from the concentration of baskets, pots and novelty boots full of giant faux-flowers, something I would argue is probably the only way to really 'get away' with such a look. The window box is crammed full of colour, and every corner of this minute space gleams with the zing of perky blooms.

How much more do I like this kind of thing than the garden that says nothing at all. The person who doesn't give a stuff about what they look like; the owner who leaves a pile of old fridges and broken armchairs in the front; the one who seems to think that leaving last year's hanging basket half-full of dead flowers will do; the person who makes a bit of effort but is so timid they end up saying very little.

I love all gardens that have had some thought. They might not be what I would have chosen - but they're not my space, they are someone else's and that person has had the courage to make a statement. And it is in the collection and variety of these individual statements that we find Community...

Favourite Phantom Front Gardens (2)

Maze Hill, SE10

This is about half way down Maze Hill (I couldn't see a number for all the greenery...)

Whoever lives here must spend half their life out the front - the garden is tiny - a few square feet at best -but this hasn't prevented the owners from treating it like some kind of stately home.

On the adjoining side of the semi, well-managed trees create a frame - I'm sure there's a eucalyptus in there, but it's kept under tight control and adds a wispy curtain in front of a maple(?) that's also been heavily-clipped. A date palm and cyprus give it a lush depth which only a serious plantsman would know how to create. At the centre, topiary pom-poms shoot up like a sort of mad green fountain and by the drive there are more well-clipped shrubs. The whole thing is softened by a cascade of annuals and a background of climbing roses and I love it.

It's worth walking past this house for no other reason than its sheer exuberance. These people have not let the fact that they only have a garden the size of a (ladies) handkerchief in which to express themselves get in the way of putting on a display for passers-by that puts the owners of far bigger places to shame. Not a blade of grass is left to chance, not a leaf is out of place, not a rose left un-deadheaded. The colours are restrained, but exquisite and the whole is a country house garden in miniature. It's a complete opposite to the fabulous cottage garden up at St Johns, Favourite Front Gardens (1) but nevertheless a brilliant gem to stumble upon.

I can only guess what the back garden is like, but in the meanwhile, how generous of the owners to give the rest of us a free show...

MRF Recycling Plant

The trash from a small part of one morning's collection

Nathan Way, SE28

Don't you wonder what happens to all your recycling once it goes into that blue-topped bin? It just doesn't feel right that it all goes in one bin, unsorted. How do they do it? I had imagined a little team of Ooompa Loompas sorting it all out, then wondered whether they used convicts from Belmarsh (complete with stripy outfits and balls & chains around their ankles...) Someone told me that they shipped it all to China - you know the sort of rumours that go round.

Then I heard that you could put your name down to go on a tour around the MRF plant (Materials Recycling Facility) and - well - who could resist? It took over a year for my name to turn up on the list, but it really is worth doing.

It is actually like some alternate universe version of the chocolate factory - what Willy Wonka would have built if he was into waste management. As you go in, the are lorries bringing the contents of Greenwich's blue bins - a gigantic mountain of the stuff every day. The sheer size of that mountain is extraordinary - and a sobering thought.

First of all it's fed into a terrifying-looking machine called a bag-splitter. This is something out of a cartoon - giant revolving knives ripping and shredding the sacks that we put our stuff into and loosening the contents. The sort of thing that Roger Rabbit would be straining with hands, feet and ears to avoid being pushed into by Judge Doom.

It all then goes into what looks like a gigantic tumble dryer, a Trommel Screen - it's full of gusts of air which blows out all the loose paper and light bits of plastic, sending the heavier stuff along on a conveyor belt past a massive magnet, which picks up all the ferrous metal - tin cans etc. The heavy stuff goes onto the Ballistic Separator (I forgot to say that all the machines have James Bond villain-type names) which sorts out aluminium - which is bounced off the magnet into another box. All that's left is glass and plastic.

Next comes the Piercer-Crusher Unit (see what I mean about the names) which does exactly that - pierces the plastic and crushes the glass, which is sieved out into vats below. The plastic goes onto a 21st Century piece of kit which identifies densities of plastic using infra-red beams.

Anything that's left over trundles along on a conveyor belt for the only humans in the place to check over manually. Frankly there's not much left. Everything gets baled up and sold - which helps to keep the costs down. Another thing that keeps down rates is that the plant takes in recycling from other boroughs at commercial rates.

And what does it go to?

Cardboard - corrugated card for packaging

Newspaper - reused as newspaper

Other paper - recycled as - you've guessed it - paper

Metals - can be many things such as aeroplane and car parts

Glass - crushed and used for road building in South East London

Plastics - fleece fabric, CD cases, work surfaces and, in a pleasingly cyclical twist, wheelie bins

After you've handed in your hard hat and come back for a cup of tea and a biscuit the guy talks about all the new moves and things they're planning and answers questions, more candidly than I had expected. We were given nice notebooks made out of recycled paper, pencils made out of old CDs and a splendid pencil sharpener in the shape of a wheelie bin which is the envy of all who see it.

I heartily recommend a visit - a most unusual day out - but utterly fascinating. You'll have to wait - stick your name on the list and you will get there eventually. The place doesn't smell, by the way - that's mixed dry recyclables for you. It's quite dusty - you come out wanting a shower - but not horrid.

You can put your name on the list by emailing recycling@greenwich.gov.uk

Preview: Open Gardens Day

The Pagoda, Pagoda Gardens, SE3
28, Granville Park SE13
12, Eliot Vale, SE3

15th June 6.00pm - 9.00pm

I'm sure that many people will know about this already, but I thought I'd give the rest of you a heads-up on one of the great opportunities-to-be-nosey of the year. Part of the National Gardens Scheme, three of the best private gardens in Blackheath are open for one evening only for the public to enjoy, the proceeds going to various good causes. It's an evening that I normally would not miss, though sadly I can't make it this year.

The great thing about these particular gardens is that the owners have got together and made them open on the same evening at the same time, so that, in a very civilised move, you can wander between the three of them, enjoying a glass of wine at each as the sun sets. So very civilised...

The Pagoda is probably the most famous of the three. I will come to the house itself another day - it warrants an entry on its own - but the garden is wonderful - totally in keeping with the house's history. An English interpretation of an oriental fantasy, the half-acre includes shady walks, a water garden with a suitably red lattice pergola and some truly lovely country-style planting. There is some fabulous old stonework, and a great mix of jungly/tropical and old English plants.

28 Granville Park is a long, narrow garden with separate 'rooms' - right next to the house there is a sunken area with giant ferns and palms. My overwhelming memory is of a splendid circular lawn and intense planting. There's a pond and, right at the far end, a dry garden. Plenty of shady nooks and interesting corners.

12 Eliot Vale is completely different. Designed for access (presumably there's someone with disabilities in the family) the paths are long, wide and winding, and the planting is low. The pond is raised - I assume to avoid accidents, and there's an enchanting little summerhouse in the centre. It's an odd shape - just when you think you've got to the end, it turns a corner in an extra bit that they presumably bought off the neighbours. Lovely and shady. This garden seems younger than the others to me - an extra year on, it may well have established much more. The sculptures that are dotted around may not be to everyone's taste, but it's certainly a bold idea and they add interest, mingling in with the plants.

On the surface, it's not a 'cheap' evening. Each garden costs £ 3.50 entrance fee, which notches up if you have a family, but if memory serves, this includes a glass of wine, and, let's face it, it's all for charity and it's a lovely evening. Somewhere in my mind it costs less if you go to all three. My suggestion would be to give up on the savings front and book a nice restaurant in Blackheath Village afterwards.

Enjoy - let me know what you think if you go.

BTW, I'll be coming onto the other Open Gardens - for Bexley Cottage Hospice, and in the centre of Greenwich for GreenwichAlive another day...

Favourite Phantom Front Gardens (1)

Angerstein Lane, SE3

After yesterday's agonies, I thought I go totally fluffy on you today and share one of my favourite secret local corners. It may be cheesy, but sometime's CheddarVision's just not enough...

Angerstein Lane (no prizes for guessing the provenance of that name) is one of those places that no one who stumbles upon it can quite believe is in London. A straight passageway behind the posh bit of Vanbrugh Park that curves round the edge of Blackheath - linking St John's Park and Shooters Hill Road (ok, the A2, go ahead, smash my rustic fantasies) it is merely a dotted line on the map, but a delightful leafy retreat, complete with postbox set into ancient wall, lamp posts and overarching trees straight out of one of those postcards of 'Old Blackheath' you can buy in libraries. I would turn this picture into sepia except it's so bloomin' small already it would end up fuzzy...




Much of the back of it is garages and back entrances for the big houses on Vanbrugh Park, delightfully neglected in many cases, and there is a secret little path of modern houses (Langton Way) which is so embedded that you don't notice it until it's right upon you. But the rest of this path is totally empty - save for one tiny little roses-round-the-door cottage, Number 5, nestled in the only bit of clearing that the sun manages to break through. I can't work out what happened to Numbers 1,2,3 and 4 - there is no sign that there was ever any other habitation.

At first it looks like it might be part of the giant Victorian building towering among the foliage behind it, and maybe once it was an outhouse, but it is very much a little cottage now. A low, white-walled building, it is cute in itself, but what really makes it is one of the loveliest cottage gardens I have seen in a long while. 'Designed' in that wonderfully hap-hazard style of the classic country garden, it has been clothed in traditional flowers and plants by someone who clearly spends a lot of his time out there - and who cares passionately about the bit of land that he's reclaimed from the lane at the front of his house.

It's clear the guy's grown a lot of things from seed and cuttings, supplementing with bought specialities. The first time I walked past, he was out working and I spent some time chatting to him. A very friendly soul, he happily discussed planting ideas and pointed out his favourite bits (as gardeners usually do.)He is particularly proud of a peony he's just acquired at great expense.

Though I would suspect this is not a totally new garden, it's going to take a few years to fill out, but it's already one of The Phantom's Favourite Haunts. He's created a tiny hawthorn hedge around it, though of course it will take years to get above knee height, and I suspect that he will always be delighted for fellow enthusiasts to enjoy it. And in the tradition of the true cottage gardeners, he's generous too, leaving surplus plants at the gate with a note for anyone to take them.

I thoroughly recommend this little haven as a way to feel good about the world again after yesterday's misery. Forget Chelsea Flower Show. This is real.

Reuse and Recycling Centre

Nathan Way, Plumstead, SE28

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Greenworks

Nathan Way, SE28

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Check it out.

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