Foster's Cafe

10, Old Dover Road, SE3

Sodding Blogger is playing up again this morning, refusing to let me load photos, so I thought I'd fall back on a little cafe at the Blackheath Standard that I'm rather fond of.

Despite its name, Fosters is run by an Italian family (or at least it always has Italian staff when I'm in there and there are a selection of touristy plates on the wall with relief pictures of the Tower of Pisa. The Phantom is nothing if not observant...) It's not as funkliy retro as Gambardella round the corner - the walls are plain white with the woodwork picked out in a strange dusky-puce; the tables and chairs are in that varnished pine that was popular in the 70s and 80s, but I like it just as well as the last-decorated-in-the-50s Gambardella.

The guy who runs Fosters has a bit of the retro about him himself, kitted out in a little cotton cover-all dust jacket and, since the smoking ban, often to be seen taking a sneaky break outside, chatting to passers-by. He disapproves of my coffee choice. The ritual goes like this: I ask for an Americano; he purses his lips and looks at me with all the disgust he can muster at this abomination of the Italian language. He asks if I'm sure I really want it "weak and black." I say yes. He shuffles off with a pitying look for such a feeble Phantom.

It's worth the discussion though. It's good coffee, done with a proper espresso machine. The range of food is very definitely 'caff' - and it's usually very munchable. I am a bit of a fan of their 85p toasted teacakes, but the cooked stuff's good too. They also have a small range of Italian deli-type stuff - amaretto biscuits, pasta, the odd tin of anchovies etc for purchase as you leave.

Between this one and Gambardella? Not much in it. Depends on how much you like 1950s vintage decor, I guess...

Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew...

...Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub.


Yes, I've made it to East Greenwich Fire Station. A building that has definitely seen better times. And yet, somehow, despite its reduced circumstances, it still manages to be a curiously elegant structure, waiting, perhaps for the return of glory days.


Just over 100 years ago, East Greenwich must have been a hive of activity much as the Peninsula has just been. The new school in Halstow Road had just been built, a library was just about to be announced as a gift from the American philanthropist Andrew Carnegie, and a whole bunch of new houses was going up - presumably to the great dismay of local people upset at losing Coombe Farm.


And in the midst of this, a brand new fire station was being built. The first stone was laid, according to the plaque on the front, by one J D Gilbert Esq., chairman of London of the Fire Brigade Committee of London County Council, on 18th July 1901, but apart from that info, I can find virtually nothing more about this building. All I can do is look at the place itself and try to work out how it operated.


It's a great-looking place - if you view it from Google Earth it's a curious truncated diamond, the car-park (presumably where the horses were kept) maintaining the shape. It's one of those places that the more you look at it, the better it gets. Now a frankly dodgy-looking 'hotel,' it's not easy to see that the obscure-windows at the little gabled front must have been where the appliance was stored, though the old cobbles outside remain. The front bit, although it looks connected to the rear, is only, apparently, attached by the walls around the outside. What was in that little roofed area upstairs? I have no idea - offices maybe. There doesn't seem to be any room for a pole.


I like to imagine the scene - presumably there are photos, though I've never seen any. All the jolly firemen, almost certainly made out of foam rubber and walking with a slightly stiff gait, lined up for inspection before being called out to a small blaze at Windy Miller's mill or Trumpton Town Hall.


Behind the front business-end, what can only have been the crew's live-in quarters rise in elegant red brick behind. Even these have lovely little touches - crenellated mansards, railings and faux-mullioned windows.


I don't even know when it stopped operating - unless I'm googling really badly I can't find anything at all about this place, and no book I own seems to mention it at all. Sadly it seems that Greenwich's everyday past is often forgotten in favour of her grander buildings. All I know is that in its present form, the Greenwich Hotel, this fabulous building is wasted. The sign outside boasts a bar and conference facilities - I can't begin to imagine the kind of conferences that would go there at present. It also boasts an 01 telephone number.


What this place needs is a Greenwich equivalent of the Blackheath Preservation Society, which, if I have it right, was formed to bring back lovely old buildings to gloriously restored health and put them to a genuinely loved use. I know this isn't a Captain's House or a Tea Caddy Lovely, but it has a beauty of its own - and great potential. You won't hear me saying this very often but I actually think this place would make great apartments, with a lovely Something (TBD) in the front bit (suggestions for funky alternative uses on a postcard, please...) So it's a little close to the Blackwall Tunnel Approach and the flyover? Let's face it, it's no more so than most of the Peninsula...


I don't even care if it continues to be used as a 'hotel,' with the same inhabitants. Just not as it is - unloved and slowly crumbling to dust. The paint is peeling, the front closed and unwelcoming, the atmosphere around it miserable - when it needn't be. The slates on the roof are chipped and the bit around the back choked with weeds.

But look again. Greenwich 'Hotel' might be jammed up next to a major road intersection, but actually, there is a little patch of grass and trees in front of this once-pretty building - easy to miss just now, but with a little care, a patch that could be made into a tiny oasis before the madness of the roundabout/flyover ensemble. With a spot of investment this place could sparkle again and, surrounded by the newly-spruced Angerstein Hotel (another day, folks) and the Library (ditto) could bring to this forgotten little corner of East Greenwich a touch of renewed Edwardian glamour.

Sorry about the pic, by the way - I took it a long time ago - during one of the many road-up moments of 2007. However, Dazza has just discovered an old picture of when it was first opened. Just take a look at this:

Bear Fighting on Blackheath?

Rebecca says:

I am an American who is living in Blackheath Standard and I love walking down to Greenwich on Sat and Sunday afternoons. My question is this, I have been told that the green dug out areas before you get to Blackheath Green in front of the Blackheath entrance to Greenwich Park were originally dug by Elisabeth I to hold bear fights in and I was wondering if you knew if that was true or not?

Hmmm. The Phantom is unconvinced.

I've heard many tales about the bumps and dips that cover Blackheath but never that one before. Blackheath is honeycombed with holes and is really quite unstable. There have been collapses throughout history - some bigger than others - and the last one was very recent indeed - 2002, when the A2 disappeared into a big old chalk pit. I intend to get onto Black (heath) Holes soon, but for now, if there was a bear pit there, I can't think that it would have been anything other than temporary - perhaps for one of the fairs that were held there. Neil Rhind doesn't appear to mention it in his seminal work The Heath - though I could have missed it, I guess.

It could even be a dried-up pond, if it's right next to the gate. I think there was more than one there.

More research needed, I think, but for now I'm not buying that there was a bear pit there.

Blackheath Batteries

Westcombe Hill, SE3

I didn't really need to buy a new car battery. In fact, strike the "really" bit of that last sentence. I didn't need one at all. But I did want to poke around the mews behind the shops at the top of Westcombe Hill. I just can't resist entrances to other worlds, however workaday they might appear.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered that a friend was having problems with his battery so I marched through the entrance, past the dog-eared sandwich board, cobbles beneath my feet, into the little back yard that must have once sounded to clip-clop rather than vroom-vroom.

To be honest, it's difficult to really get much of an idea of how this little brick-built jumble must have looked when it was workshops and stables, there are so many parked cars and white vans squeezed in there. Problem is, it tends to get locked up at any time when they're not parked in there, totally hidden by thick rusty gates. But it's neat, freshly-painted and remarkably quiet for somewhere that must have all kinds of interesting small businesses tucked away in there, quietly beavering away at whatever they do.

I walked into Blackheath Batteries, my usual carapace of nochalence, reserved specially for dealing with teeth-sucking mechanics, buttoned firmly down. Several gents of almost sterotypcial car-parts-dealer appearance were standing around in anoraks, drinking orange tea and 'having a laugh.' Gulp.

I asked my question, quite proud that I actually remembered the make and model of my pal's car - not a given in the Phantom universe. And then was stunned. They listened to me. No, they didn't have the battery I was after - it was an unusual one that needs to be sourced from the manufacturer - but they weren't going to let me go that easily. How old was it? ("errrr....") How many miles had it done? ("umm....") How often was it started in this month? That month? Maybe my mate should try this. Or that. Don't do that because it doesn't work, whatever the AA man tells you. Get a new battery only as a last resort after you've tried all that because that sort are really expensive...

These guys knew they weren't going to make a sale out of me. They'd already told me they didn't stock the item I was after. But they still wanted to help. They spent time thinking about and discussing the problem, giving me advice (some of which I might even remember) and not sucking through their teeth once.

I am impressed by this old-school, friendly local business. Forget Kwik-Fit and all those other chains. Visit guys who know what they're talking about and actually give a damn.

Developments at the Standard

Dan asks:

I live on the Standard and heard recently that there may be plans to re-design the area including doing something about the slip road between Westcombe Hill and Charlton Road?

Do you know of such plans?
If so, do you have any more details?

The Phantom replies:

I suspect you mean the argument that has been going on about that slipway between Old Dover Road and Charlton Road regarding access between the two. I believe it's by Hexagon Housing. I confess I found the reports in the WN very confusing and I'm really not sure what the hell is happening there. If someone would care to create a Blackheath Standard Development Proposals For Dummies (and Phantoms) I would be very grateful.

Societies

Dennis asks:

I was wondering whether you knew of any neighbourhood or residents' associations in downtown Greenwich?

The Phantom replies:

I've been meaning to do a links page for ages - but in the meanwhile here are a few local groups. I'm not commenting on any of them here; merely listing them.

I'm sure I'm going to miss a few, so feel free to chip-in, folks...

The Greenwich Society

The Blackheath Society

The Charlton Society

The Friends of East Greenwich Pleasaunce

The Friends of Greenwich Park

Park Vista Area Residents Association

The Westcombe Society

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.

Micro Eco Park on the Peninsula

No - not the "official" one - which I'll come to another day. This tiny little eco park is about a tenth of the size of the 'proper' one and I confess I've walked past it on several occasions without realising what it was or even, if I'm honest, that it was there at all.

It's round the back of the Teletubby Sainsburys - presumably some kind of Section 106 set-aside, and it takes approximately 1 minute to walk round, but it's nevertheless a delight to stumble upon, and once the sundry consortia who have carved up the Peninsula have covered what is green and lovely now with coloured concrete boxes, it will be an even more welcome haven for animals, insects, birds and even the odd walker.

It's basically a couple of wetland-pond-ish-marshy dips, filled with reeds, rushes and, at the moment, some beautiful yellow irises. There are saplings of what look like some sort of willow (?) dotted around and a little fenced area with some young apple trees - I have no idea of the variety, but I'm hoping they're either native or at least heritage breeds.

A little (pretty-accessible) path winds its way around the site - it takes a couple of minutes to march around it, slightly longer to wander. There are no signs, plaques or even gates - but it's such a welcome corner, tucked behind a shopping centre and surrounded by a hedge of mixed British plants - even the back of Sainsburys itself doesn't 'loom' over the area (and presumably provides a nice place for employees to enjoy a quiet fag) that it's worth seeking out as a five minute excursion of peace from the madness that is that sodding Peninsula car park.

Circus Street, SE10

In another of my occasional focuses on Greenwich streets I thought I'd take a peek at an estate-agent-favourite West Greenwich byway today.

Circus Street links Royal Hill and Greenwich South Street in a gentle sweeping curve which doesn't quite meet Gloucester Circus at the Royal Hill end. It's clearly Georgian /early Victorian and has kept that old feel despite one or two more modern places along it. A few houses were obviously built together as pairs or rows; others have been built as little terraces but don't all look the same. It's a delightful mixture of very large, stucco-front houses with splendid front doors, wrought iron railings and imposing windows, and tiny little flat-front terraces opening directly onto the street with interesting features and jolly window boxes. There is what looks like a converted chapel about half-way down it. Judging from the amount of converted chapels in the area, Greenwich must have been some religious place. It would seem to be less so now.

Near the Royal Hill end, there is an interesting place with a discreet plaque which says "Zero" - but my (albeit imperfect) searches have bowled up nothing about it. Can anyone enlighten me?

At number 42 lives Circus Street Ltd. I had a spot of trouble wading through the jargon to find out what they actually do - it seems to be a sort of digital media consultancy - though whether this is PR, website design, some sort of data analysis or a mixture of all of them beats me. I guess that's what comes of not actually working in this field. They seem to have some big clients, judging from the list. The blog's fun - I enjoyed "Can brands control bloggers":

http://www.circusstreet.com/index.php?q=node/blog#42

Hmm - wonder what would happen if I typed in "The Greenwich Phantom Sucks," as recommended. Phew. Nothing. Yet...

On the corner of Brand St is The Pub With No Name. Sadly, it's lost its sign, and there's no name on the board above it, but luckily its real name is carved into the very stone of the building - thank heavens for the supreme Victorian confidence that presumed that this pub would always be called The Morden Arms, presumably named for Sir John Morden who founded Morden College in Blackheath in 1695. It's nice enough and has the occasional jazz night (it gets involved with the Riverfront Jazz Festival,) but it's not what I'd call a destination pub - more a local boozer for local drinkers (no food.)

Does anyone here live in Circus Street or know anyone who does? I'd love to know more about it.

Paul McPherson Gallery

77, Lassell St SE10

Paul McPherson's tiny gallery is tucked away down an East Greenwich side street, and you might miss it unless you were actually looking out for it, but it's well worth a visit - and a regular visit at that.

Paul McPherson himself is a graphic artist and designer - he's the man responsible for that wonderful Hope & Greenwood sweetie packaging (now there's a shop I could stand a sister branch in Greenwich - but that's a whole other story.) He's also worked for J&B Whisky and Smirnoff but his best-known work in Greenwich is probably the graphics for Theatre of Wine. You can see the sort of thing he does on his website.

He works from the back room, which leaves the gallery at the front available for rolling exhibitions from up-and-coming artists. They're not always my cup of tea, but that's the beauty of a rolling display - the artists change on a regular basis, so if you don't like one, the next one might turn out to be a favourite.

The Paul Catherall exhibition on at the moment is excellent (he did those fab posters on the underground with the lino prints of modern London landmarks but is possibly better known, if you hang out round bookshops, for the design for The Cloudspotters Guide - you can find him at www.paulcatherall.com) but you never know who's going to be there so it's worth making a regular date in your diary.

It's minute - the size of a shopfront, but it's crisp, bright and modern - a perfect exhibition space for a new artist. The door is a 'normal' front door and can look intimidating - but if it's regular office hours, chances are it will be open - and if it's not and Paul's in, if you ring the doorbell, he'll let you in. There's no obligation to buy of course,and there are usually sweeties in a jar at the back as an extra incentive to visit...

www.paulmcphersongallery.com

The Hill

Royal Hill, SE10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ashburnham Arms

Ashburnham Grove SE10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coriander

Station Crescent, SE3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dead Shops

Can't you just see YOUR lovely shop here?


Just for an albeit sick kind of laugh yesterday, I decided to count the dead shops along Trafalgar and Woolwich Roads. It was a depressing experience. It wasn't an easy job. Some shops are so dead that it's easy to miss them totally, blanking them out in your mind. Some are actually just about still alive but are so tatty I almost took them for empty. Some I couldn't tell where one shop ended and another began. For the record I counted along what can be at most a third of a mile, 33 empty premises. THIRTY THREE. Now albeit I'm counting a couple of gigantic ex-offices which are total eyesores and the Caffrey's joint but really - that's terrible.

It wasn't always so grim. The place must have buzzed once - only a few days ago I met a guy on Romford Market selling dress fabrics who said his old shop had been on Trafalgar Road. He said that the rents, the traffic and the lack of footfall drove him out.

There's such opportunity here. With all the new builds coming - at the horridly-named "Selection" (how much precious and expensive time did it take the marketing company to find the letters "SE10" in a word, I wonder) and its rather bizarre unnamed opposite number (am I the only person that thinks it looks like a bunch of portacabins stacked on top of each other?) not to mention whatever goes into the Old Hospital site, there are going to be loads of new people moving in - all of whom will need to buy stuff.

There's one shop in particular I've had my eye on for some time. My next door neighbour and I fantasise about setting up a really good quality cafe and cake shop a la Buenos Aires in the old Wavy Line store (see above) It's a fab little shop - with a side entrace for vans/ horses and carts. I have no idea what it's like inside as it's got filthy windows and net curtains and it seems to have been shut for ever, but it must be similar to the others which are a fair size. It was recently painted (probably part of the little push to brighten things up a bit round East Greenwich)and it wouldn't take much, I'm sure, to make it really exciting.

It's also got those lovely coloured ceramic tiles either side of it, nearly intact and little cast iron 'parapets' above the side entrance. There are several shops down this road with fabulous little quirks and flights of fancy, often in a dreadful state of repair or even painted over in vibrant colours (see the little obelisk-ball things over the newsagents next door to The Old Friends, a pub I won't discuss just now) for a particularly vomit-inducing yellow colour.) I've never understood why shopkeepers don't cherish these little bits of decorative history the way that homeowners have started to. I can only hope the trend back towards keeping original detail within homes will start to permeate the retail emporia of historic towns...

Together my neighbour and I dream of having lovely mis-matched furniture - squashy old sofas and wooden tables and chairs, proper crockery and good quality coffee (Union Roasters, natch...) The cakes would be under big glass domes and very much of the homemade variety - you know the sort of thing. My own favourite addition would be a secure buggy park in the back bit where the vans used to go so that there would be lots of room for pushchairs. There are plenty of schools and nurseries around - I'm sure there would be the clientele - and the rents must be dirt cheap for shops shut for so long, but I really can't do it.

Anyone who actually knows me will tell you that I haven't the temperament - I have patience neither with regular hours nor the General Public. I would be the original Grumpy Old Phantom - and would be forced to do a Very Bad Review Indeed of myself.

So my idea's up for grabs, guys. Someone must find the challenge attractive? I'll be a regular customer, and so will my next door neighbour, for starters...

If you don't like that shop there are 32 others to choose from - some in appalling condition; others recently refurbished. I got all excited recently when a shop a few doors up from my dream shop was totally gutted and refurbished - only to find that it had merely been done to give the flat upstairs a separate entrance so it could be let out on its own. The brnad new shop has whitewashed windows and an extremely dead feel to it. Depressing stuff indeed.

In case you don't fancy a coffee shop, here's my East Greenwich Wish List:


What we need:

A greengrocers (though for now the little market stall by Rick's Place is an excellent substitute)
A GOOD bakers (sorry - I just don't count Greggs)
A butchers
A bank
A GOOD QUALITY cafe down Woolwich Rd end
A stationers
A cheesemongers (well, a phantom can dream...)
A lovely sweetie shop (still dreaming)
A fabric emporium (dreaming on)
Anything interesting and quirky
A small Woolworths (sorry - a particularly peculiar personal perversion of mine - we all have our faults, please bear with me, I'm getting therapy)

Oh, and a truly GOOD restaurant.

What we DON'T need

Estate agents
Bookies' joints
Sandwich bars
Dodgy fried chicken shops
Estate Agents
Pizza delivery places
Takeaways - of ANY variety
Tool hire shops
Dodgy electrical appliance shops
Estate Agents
Funeral parlours
Hairdressers - have you SEEN how many hairdressers there are down these two roads? There might even be more hairdressers than estate agents, though at least the hairdressers do a useful job)
Amusement arcades
Tatty pound shops
Strip clubs
Did I mention Estate Agents?
Travel Agents
Recruitment Agents
Insurance agents
Any other kind of agents ESPECIALLY Estate Agents



Perhaps congestion charging will encourage more people to walk along these currently scruffy rat-runs for out-of-town traffic. They could be a valuable local resource. They're currently a depressing experience, but who knows what the future could bring.

Winter Gardens

Avery Hill Park, Eltham

Ok - so it's not actually Greenwich - so shoot me - it's in the borough and everyone needs to get out occasionally...


The Winter Gardens at Eltham are one of those surprising little places which make being a tourist in your own borough worthwhile. Clearly with a name like that, I waited until deepest January to visit, picking a bright, clear and bloomin' freezing afternoon to pack up a flask and buns and head off towards the Eltham Campus of Greenwich University.

It's not a generally exciting building complex, Greenwich University's Eltham Campus now occupying what's left of self-made millionaire 'Colonel' John Thomas North's mansion - which is why when you do discover the hothouse it's all the more delightful.

It was built during the 1830s but not an awful lot happened to it until the colourful 'Colonel' bought it in 1888.

North had started out, it is said, as a gun runner in South America where he'd gone to build railways (it's amazing how one can get sidetracked, isn't it...) but eventually found his fortune in seagull guano, wich any fule no makes great fertiliser.

But being a shit importer has never guaranteed success on the social ladder, and though North had made a pile Oop North on the where-there's-muck-there's-brass ticket, and though he had heaped largesse on the good folk of Leeds he still just didn't seem to get invited to the right parties.

He decided to buy Avery Hill and do it up so that he could have a swanky London pad. He had the main road moved to Bexley so that he wouldn't actually have to come in contact with the South London riffraff and spent over £ 200,000 on the interior design alone. He commissioned TW Cutler to remodel it in the popular Italianate style, but Cutler went overbudget even for the likes of North and was sacked; his assitant promoted in his place.

North was responsible for the fabulous hothouse, which he presumably fertilised with his own imports, but at the time it wasn't the hothouse which was the star of the show. Instead an outrageous three-roomed Turkish bath took pride of place - with tiled walls, marble floors and silver fittings, it outshone the other big Turkish baths at the time and the architectural critics were agog.

His home complete, North was made an honourary Colonel in Tower Hamlets but what he really wanted was a knighthood.

He invited the Prince of Wales to tea, but it would seem that Bertie wasn't overawed by the experience. North never did get his knighthood. He lived only another five years in his creation before his death in 1896.

His family, unimpressed with the extravagance, immediately put Avery Hill on the market. It took two years to sell, and even then it went for considerably less than North paid for it. The new owner never moved in.

It's been in the hands of the council since 1902 - they bought it and the park for £ 25,000 - a bit of a bargain even then. What's left of the house is now part of the uni but the hothouses and park are open to the public - and a splendid job they have done too, maintaining it - it can't be a cheap thing to do.

If you're driving, you enter through the grounds of the uni, you can park in what must have once been a walled kitchen garden (well, I did, anyway...) and walk around to the astonishingly large palm house, heated even in the darkest, dankest of winter months to house the exotic plants so fashionable amongst wealthy Victorians and Edwardians.

In the centre, a giant Norfolk Pine dominates the view, and to either side of the red-brick glasshouses are smaller, delicate little rooms. The one to the left provides a great place to sit and contemplate on a late winter afternoon as it makes the most of what watery sun there is, the only interruption the odd university group using it as a film location or for a botany lesson. The one to the right has a replica of a beautiful marble fountain (the original was half-inched) playing over cyclamen and fernery.

The greenery of the park tumbles away down the hill towards football pitches and dull suburban housing, but here is a little corner which will be forever Victorian splendour. Enjoy...


BTW. Sadly, the Turkish baths were bombed to buggery in WWII, but there is a fantastic account of them by Victorian Turkish Bath specialist Malcolm Shifrin at

http://www.victorianturkishbath.org/6DIRECTORY/AtoZEstab/Houses/Avery/AverySF.htm

Gloucester Circus

I notice that the two houses that have been being restored on the posh side of Goucester Circus are up for sale for £ 2.5m each. I am sure that someone will tell me that that's cheap for London but it's still probably the steepest these babies have been up for, so I thought that today was as good as any to take a look at the joys of Gloucester Circus.

It's an odd place - clearly intended to mirror the great circuses of Bath and central London, but you have to be careful which angle you view it from - only just over half of it is 18th Century - the rest is dodgy 1950s flats. I have always pondered to myself which side I would prefer - to live in the flats and have the view or to have the gorgeous houses and look at the flats. In reality of course there's no contest, especially in summer - the oval central green, surrounded by railings, is full of lovely old mature trees which effectively mask each side.

It's easy to assume that half of the circus was the victim of the wartime bombs that devastated great swathes of Greenwich, but the truth is rather more prosaic.

Gloucester Circus was designed by local architect Michael Searles (who later went on to create The Paragon in Blackheath) and built between 1791 and 1809. Searles, who started out as a surveyor, had grand ideas - not for him the boring old circles of most circuses being built at the time - he fancied for his Greenwich version something new - an oval. It was going to be two sweeping crescents with pediments at each end - one opening onto the Park and Crooms Hill; the other onto Royal Hill.

Trouble is, Greenwich wasn't really posh enough at the time to take a feature such as this - there just weren't enough moneyed people who wanted to live in what was, frankly, a bit of a grotty area. Odd pockets of grandeur existed - such as Wren's Hospital and individual houses - and even the Spread Eagle had made a bit of an effort to spruce itself up - but South East London was, to most, just an industrialish, dock-ish sort of town. (Actually, some people I meet from other areas still regard it as a bit of a backwater. I don't make much effort to dissuade them from this - we don't want any old hoi-poloy coming here, do we...)

There wasn't enough initial takeup on Gloucester Circus, which was, after all, a speculative build needing the cash from the first sales to fund the rest, and only one complete side was built - and even that took nearly twenty years to do. The pediments were finished - albeit a bit wimpishly - and a couple of extra houses built on the west side, but eventually the builders just gave up. I bet there are a few developers who'd jump at the opportunity to turf out the poor residents of the 1950s(?) flats and finish the job now, though.

Somehow poor old Gloucester Circus didn't last very long as lovely homes for the upper middle classes. By the early 20th Century they'd fallen into disrepair and eked out a living as tenements for dockers and other working class people. It was only comparitively recently that they have come up in the world to what James Johnston is (perhaps optimistically) calling "probably the best address in Greenwich."

Which brings us to the present. If you want one of these houses now, it will set you back £ 2.5m - but don't forget - it will be useless if you want more than 6 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms and 3 ensuites. I couldn't find out how big the gardens are at the back - do tell if you know. The one person I have ever met from the Circus tells me that the private gardens in the centre are today a bit of a nightmare to upkeep - they are jointly responsible for the now rather large trees. I doubt I'd complain...

It's a popular haunt for film crews - like much of Greenwich - but sadly it rarely stands in for itself - it's usually meant to be somewhere else. We need more films set in Greenwich.

East Greenwich

Perhaps because of its close proximity to the A102(M) and the fact that if the wind is blowing the wrong way it can get a bit whiffy from the factories near the Blackwall Tunnel, East Greenwich sometimes gets a raw deal in the swank stakes. It doesn't help that the old hospital - now demolished - was a total eyesore. All that's left is a pathetic row of funeral parlours, an actually pretty decent florist (left over from the hospital's glory days) a couple of filthy £1 shops, a cabbie's and a rather good dry cleaners. Behind it all are blocks of council flats. There is a good "naïve" style mural on one wall venerating Sam Pepys who though he would have walked along this way would certainly never recognise it today. The close proximity to both Charlton and the motorway has also made this a favourite area for tool-hire shops - useful about once a year for those of us with a DIY urge, useless the rest of the time.

On the corner is a pub which mysteriously closed down as The Frog and Radiator then just as mysteriously reopened as the Ship and Billet. It looks rather smart actually - though I'm not convinced the clientele has changed. Only time will tell. The other pub, The Old Friends, very much of the old unreconstituted "boozer" school, always has 'friendly' messages chalked on the blackboard outside such as "England - Love it or Leave." Still - anywhere which advertises the musical skills of 'Roger Romantic' can't be all bad.

I'm not going to discuss the forthcoming lap-dancing club at the moment - except that when the Chinese restaurant at the Plaza closed I remember saying that "anything would be better than an empty shop." Then we got a bookies and I said it couldn't get any worse. Ahem…

Continuing along Woolwich Road towards the motorway, the gloom continues. "Glenister Green" - whatever visions of Eden that name implies - turns out to be a grotty bit of grass by some faceless modern houses. It's been given the old hospital mural which should have improved it but somehow it's still as grim as ever. Cutting the grass occasionally might help, I suppose, but frankly, I think it's doomed. The fish shop isn't bad - friendly, and with nicely greasy fry-ups - but it does feel very lonely perched there all alone.

It's not helped by the proliferation of "luxury" flats that have sprung up in the last year or so. I mean - who the bloody hell needs a GATED COMMUNITY round here? I HATE gated communities with a vengeance - they closet themselves away from the people who already live there and give nothing to the actual community around them except some extra exhaust from their fancy cars' fumes. Mind you, the bus stop is situated just outside several of their plate glass living room windows so they can't FEEL very isolated, tee hee...

The shops get worse as you get further towards the main road - mainly dodgy takeaways or just completely closed down, the dead shop fronts grimy and unloved. What used to be an upmarket lingerie shop has now turned online, leaving the shop itself a mess of half opened brown boxes, piles of papers and grotty old computers - couldn't they have at least advertised themselves with a little display? A photographer once had a shop along here - but even the dog-eared picture of Judi Dench clutching a cup of coffee has gone now. The Labour Party headquarters livens up once a week when Nick Raynsford has his surgery (though the last time we walked past on surgery night he was alone, with his feet up on the desk looking bored.)

There are plans afoot for this bit of road - which could be good - but only when we find out what is to happen to the old hospital site will we know whether we are to get anything worth having - or whether it will be yet more uninspired 'luxury' apartments. Shivas, the little mini-mart, has made an effort recently, and the Post Office looks like it's getting a spruce up - but this could be such a great little parade if someone was prepared to take a chance and bring some little shops like those at the foot of Royal Hill. Daniel at Theatre of Wine tells me a wet fish shop may be moving in next door to them. I can only hope this will be the start of some REAL shops ariving - a bakers, perhaps, or a greengrocers, butchers - or, dare I say it - a branch of The Cheeseboard? I really think, with all the schools and nurseries around, there would be room for a little café too. Oh well - I can dream.

Thing is, I actually love East Greenwich. Once you get to know it, you start to become really fond of its funny little quirks. East Greenwich Library - a gift in 1906 by the American benefactor Andrew Carnegie is actually a beautiful little art nouveau building - now partially converted into a music college and therefore full of life and vitality. Try standing at the bus stop opposite and looking at the building next to it - an optical illusion makes it look flat like a film set which might amuse you while you wait for the 422. The old fire station behind it, now sadly a hotel of the variety which almost certainly doesn't have a honeymoon suite, must have been utterly lovely once - and who knows - maybe it could be again, despite the fact that its best view is over the 102(M) flyover.

The streets around the southern part of the road, whilst not up to the grandness of Westcombe Park or West Greenwich, have a charm of their own and are generally well-looked after by people who care (there are a couple of examples of stunning architectural re-invention in Halstow Road - I don't need to tell you where - you'll find them.) There is a feeling of community and apart from the thundering skip lorries which use it as a rat run, the area is very quiet despite its proximity to a major road. Some of the roads backing onto the railway are really rather nice - and I've seen one or two properties in Annandale which border on the exquisite. Neighbours actually talk to each other and interesting things go on from time to time - not least centered around Halstow Road School, which is one of the best in the area.

Behind Annandale, Chevening and Halstow roads, there is a delightful little park called East Greenwich Pleasaunce. This used to be the overflow from the old Seaman's cemetery and there are still around 3,000 seamen buried there, complete with graves covered in anchors and other seafaring memorabilia. But it is now a rather sweet park, which is used by the whole community, including children from nearby Halstow Road primary school, dog walkers - and me, once, in an (extremely short-lived) fit of enthusiasm for Keep Fit. There are gates in Chevening Road and at the top of Halstow Road, where a recent Section 106 agreement led to a new entrance.

South of Woolwich Road is Tunnel Avenue. This, I presume, is the old Tunnel approach road, and has some rather sweet, if a little bland, 1930s-style houses running along one side, and 1980s-style the other side. Halfway up Tunnel Avenue is a little walkway leading to a footbridge over the 102(M) to the Peninsula shops, aka Shopping Cart Valhalla - the place where trolleys go to die. There are always half a dozen waiting forlornly for passage into the next world (or Greenwich Peninsula Sainsburys, whichever is the quicker... ) You can get good views from the walkway.

What will ultimately make or break East Greenwich amounts to two things - what is going to happen to the old hospital as mentioned above - and whether the ludicrous plans for "traffic calming" which were revealed to interested citizens at one of those pointless "consultation" sessions we sometimes get ever get implemented. I won't go into them - but basically I found myself, a generally calm, collected-ish individual wanting to hit the car-hating out-of-towner "expert" who had drawn up the ridiculous plans before not much of the evening was through. I wait with bated breath, and have, by the way, stopped attending 'consultation' sessions. That's precisely what they are - consultation, nothing else. "They" tell us what they want to do, we tell them we don't want it, they nod sagely with rather pitying looks at our imbecility and lack of understanding, then go ahead anyway.

Despite my rather bleak look at East Greenwich I wouldn't live anywhere else. It is going to change a LOT in the next few years - but I suspect we will end up being a little haven of quiet between "Old" Greenwich and the Peninsula - and, of course, in pole-position between the two Olympic venues in Greenwich in 2012. So it's not all gloom. Maybe I'll get that cheese shop yet...

West Greenwich

The areas bordering the Park and the heath, and around Crooms and Royal Hills make up the "posh bit" of Greenwich.

Roads full of dinky little terraces and fine Georgian townhouses all painted white and gracefully draped with wisteria and old roses seduce the visitor – of which there are few – most tourists stop at the fan museum if they even make it that far – into a mix of fantasy and plain nosiness – I went there with a friend the other day and at one point she was on tiptoes trying to nose into people's houses. Disgraceful. Not that I'd do that myself of course.

There are some splendid double-fronters in Crooms Hill and up the back streets near the heath little private roads lead to yet more architectural delight. I always find it fun to take the western gate out of the park and walk through the little alley and down the little pathway to Crooms Hill – it doesn't take much imagination to step not only back in time, but out of London entirely. The houses are large and imposing – and those on the heath and backing onto Greenwich Park are fine indeed. I'm particularly covetous of Robert Hooke's old house, The Grange, which I once got a sneaky peek inside while it was being renovated - I instantly fell in love.

On Royal Hill there is a wonderful mish-mash of architectural styles which are in such a fine state of higgledy-piggledyness that for a fan of such things it's difficult to know what to look at first.I envy them not only their peace and quiet around these roads but the variety of shops.

The bottom of Royal Hill sees a little parade of fab retail outlets – what I call The Royal Hill Lovelies - a good old fashioned cheesemongers, a family butcher, a greengrocers which always has lovely displays of seasonal produce outside and a delightful florist which also has a couple of tiny tables and chairs for the odd tea consumer.

Oh – that we could enjoy such delights in East Greenwich. Frankly we have more dead shops than open ones.

Royal Teas is a tiny, tatty-looking-from-the-outside shop which attracts the Saturday morning Guardian readers and Yummy Mummies. Very 'alternative,' it's always so packed with bloody pushchairs that I can't ever get in. I always used to prefer the Argentinian café/deli Buenos Aires a few doors up – less crowded, with squashy armchairs and divine cake, but it now gets pretty full itself.

Gloucester Circus, I understand, was originally intended to be a complete circle, but the cash ran out and only one side was built. The other side is filled up with rather ugly flats – but at least they get a good view. There is a lovely private garden in the centre with mature chestnut trees which shields the swanky owners from the hoi-poloi opposite – though being deciduous the trees naturally give less screening in winter. The residents moan that it costs a fortune to maintain but frankly I think it comes with the territory - you want to live somewhere truly fab? You have to look after it.

All in all, West Greenwich is a seriously desirable area. Well – I desire it, anyway.

Westcombe Park

WESTCOMBE PARK

Sounding a bit like a country pile straight out of a Jane Austen novel, this delightful half-run-down-half-really-rather-swish area engenders a great love in its residents. So much so that the Westcombe Society – made up merely of the handful of streets south of the railway line around Westcombe Park Station has its own monthly newspaper which is of a consistently high standard.

The houses, clinging to the side of the hill leading up to Blackheath, are nearly all Victorian, often very large indeed (though many have been converted into tiny apartments) and generally in beautiful condition. Encaustic tiled paths and stained glass doors are still plentiful and I guess there aren't TOO many nasty conversions.

I've got my name down on the waiting list for the stunning Humber Road Allotments (breathtaking views of Canary Wharf) but I've got a long wait – eleven years and counting, according to the lady at the council. Given that I'm number 23 on the list, there's just 11 plots and people only give them up when they die, I'd say that was actually a rather generous time allowance...

The Westcombe News (delivered free to residents but available from the newsagents at the station if you're unlucky enough not to live in the catchment area) keeps a close eye on the environment affecting the whole of Greenwich and encourages a small but persistent group of lobbyists to complain loudly about 'wrong' things in the area. The noticeboard section at the back is useful for local tradespeople, but as I've found to my cost, some are gems and others total cowboys.

The Peninsula Shopping Centre

PENINSULA SHOPPING CENTRE

A word to the wise. Avoid the Peninsula shopping area at weekends. No really, I'm serious. I've never seen so many frayed tempers, grumpy gits, extraordinarily bad driving and screaming children. Much of the blame for this has to be laid at the feet of whoever designed the ridiculous thing.

Ok, I know that it's a dirty topic - to say that you actually like cars in this day and age – but making people so angry they crash them is not a very clever way to get them off the road. There are two entrances to the Sainsburys/Comet/B&Q/Odeon bit, neither of them well-designed, both neatly arranged so that once you're in you can't get out. Sleeping policemen so vicious they scrape the bottom of your vehicle ensure that people take stupid short cuts and little dead ends that create the necessity for 35-point turns don't add to the day's shopping experience in a good way. All in all, by the time you get to B&Q and realise that once again there's only TWO cash desks open, you're ready for a punch up with anyone who'll take you on. I have seen fisticuffs on more than one occasion.

I actually recently witnessed someone smashing up someone else's car in a moment of road rage in the queue to get out of there whilst the poor devil sat terrified inside, desperate for the lights to change so they could get away from the maniac, and I noticed yesterday one of those police incident boards requesting witnesses to a family being robbed in broad daylight. Whatever is this world coming to? REDESIGN THAT BLOODY CAR PARK!!!!!!!

The "other" shopping centre; the one that is nominally in Charlton, with Asda, Smiths, Next, Argos etc, is even worse. They've got special little posts to stop people backing into parking spaces too far, cunningly designed so that they're IMPOSSIBLE to see from your rear view mirror, which you back into BECAUSE YOU CAN'T SEE THEM.

I've just done £200-worth of damage to my bumper. And that's another thing – why don't bumpers bump any more???? They're just brittle, flimsy bits of painted plastic. RUBBISH. But if they made the posts six foot tall and fluorescent we wouldn't bump into those sodding posts in the first place. I know I'm not the first because they're the colour of Joesph's bloomin' dreamcoat.

Take my advice – just don't go there.

In between the two, in the little road that has the Royal Mail Sorting Office, there is a scruffy little parade of odd warehouse-type stores, called the Angerstein Business Park. Most of them are airline bucket shops and Chinese catering supplies, but there is a very good discount bathroom centre, called JEM, which has a wide variety of suites and knock-down prices and the intriguingly-named Greenwich Diving Centre.

If you're into Chinese food, the See-Woo Chinese supermarket is also here. It's always packed – don't bother with the main car park, go straight through to the overflow one next door – and stocks a sublime mix of ingredients, fresh food and giant catering packs of rice. It's nominally a cash and carry – but they serve me. My Mum loves visiting their cookware section, where they have a splendid array of party lanterns, dishes, toys, dragons and baffling paper clothes. I've found the people to be friendly too, whether fellow customers or assistants – happy to help when they've seen me wandering around clutching a shopping list looking lost. Oh – and at Christmas they give out cool calendars.