'Parklife'

Day 8

Bayswater - Beckton - Beckton Park - Becontree

 

I'm setting off a bit earlier than usual this morning, as I'm meeting up with someone in town at 11am, so the plan is to visit one station in the morning, and then a couple more after my meeting.

 

There's a thick mist hanging over West London as I walk to the station, and for a while I imagine the title of today's blog post will be 'A Foggy Day (In London Town)'.

 

'Play Misty For Me'

 

It's nothing like the choking 'pea-soupers' our old friend Sherlock Holmes would be familiar with, but it's uncommon enough these days in London to be worth a mention.

 

First off today I'm heading for 'Batswater'.

 

No, that's not a typo - well, it is, but not mine. On the railings by platform 12 at Paddington is a map of the Circle Line, which unfortunately has the station between Paddington and Notting Hill Gate, which should be Bayswater, labelled instead as 'Batswater', an unpleasant sounding place to visit I'm sure you'll agree...

 

Batswater - the QWERTY keyboard has a lot to answer for.

Now, on Day 7, in Barkingside, you'll recall that my camera attracted some attention, and I ended up having an entertaining chat with two very different but perfectly friendly people as a result. Today, as I'm taking the above photo, it attracts attention once again, though of rather a different kind.

 

I sense a 'presence' hovering just behind my left shoulder, as I'm stood with the viewfinder to my eye, and I lower the camera to find a Police Community Support Officer (PCSO) watching me silently.

 

For the benefit of those who may be unfamiliar with these entities, I can do no better than quote from their own website www.policecommunitysupportofficer.com:

 

PCSOs "...are members of support staff, employed, directed and managed by their Police Force. They will work to complement and support regular police officers, providing a visible and accessible uniformed presence..."

 

The site goes on to inform us that their primary purpose is to "improve the community and offer greater public reassurance... to address anti-social behaviour, the fear of crime, environmental issues and other factors which affect the quality of people's lives..."

 

Quite why this particular PCSO is paying me so much (silent) attention then is rather unclear - I don't believe taking a photo of a tube map falls into the category of anti-social behaviour, nor is it immediately apparent where 'the fear of crime' might be. I suppose I could, at times (particularly after a potent curry) have an effect on environmental issues, but I can assure you that today my body is behaving itself impeccably. As indeed, am I.

 

I ask politely if there is a problem, to which the PCSO gives the inexplicable reply:

 

"No, no - just wanted to make sure you were alright."

 

Alright? Well, yes - why wouldn't I be? I'm taking a photo, not frothing at the mouth.

 

Of course, what he meant was "just wanted to make sure you're not a terrorist", but that's not something he can admit. Now I'm all for decent law and order and a 'visible presence' on our streets, and I don't subscribe to the view that all cops are vicious racist thugs who'd stitch you up as soon as look at you. On the, thankfully, few occasions I've had recourse to the law, it has treated me with respect and courtesy. However, I'm afraid I suspect this particular PCSO of a touch of over-zealousness.

 

A camera and a rucksack do not a terrorist make. And if, for some strange reason, you suspect that they do, then you may ask me politely what I'm doing, and why, and I will tell you, (although the law is somewhat vague as to whether or not, in fact, I am obliged to do so). Loitering with intent to intimidate is not the way to win hearts and minds.

 

Clearly I was doing nothing wrong, either legally or morally - equally clearly, this PCSO wasn't going to go away until I explained why I was taking the photo, (which, as I've said, I'm not convinced I was obliged to do). It may have been subtle, but the intimidation was definitely in the air - so I pointed out the hilarious typo on the sign, and he agreed it was mildly amusing. I moved on, feeling somehow aggrieved, and stepped out of Paddington station to the streets above.

 

***

Bayswater Station is a fifteen minute walk from Paddington, and by now the sun has burnt off the mist, so I eschew the pleasure of the amusingly misspelled Circle Line, and stroll through the grand old Georgian houses towards my goal.

 

It's easy to forget that these gleaming four- and five-storey white-washed palaces were once all private residences, belonging to a single family (plus servants). I'm assuming (justifiably I hope) that they've all been subdivided into as many flats as the landlords can get away with, though it's possible that one or two of them are still wholly owned by the more affluent of the local residents.

 

In any case, compared with the terraced working class dwellings I've encountered on many of my journeys, the contrast is stark.

 

It's with this thought in mind that I reach a street that I've been curious to see for some time - an otherwise unassuming row of Georgian houses called Leinster Gardens. 

***

While you may not immediately recognise the name, or recall the architectural curiosity to be found there, if you are a fan of the TV show 'Sherlock' (he does seem to crop up regularly doesn't he) or have read Ben Aaronovitch's latest Peter Grant book 'Whispers Underground' you will definitely have come across it before.

 

Leinster Gardens -
nothing to see here...

At first glance, as you walk along Leinster Gardens, the houses all look alike and you may not notice anything unusual about numbers 23 and 24. But take a second look - or better still, have a look on Google Earth and get the bird's eye view. Spotted it yet?

 

From above, you'll see a gap, the width of two houses, in the otherwise continuous row. The gap dates back to the early, steam-powered days of the underground, when "venting off" points were needed to let the steam out of the tunnels.

 

Switching back to 'street-view' as it were, for a moment, you might begin to realise that there's something a little odd going on here...

 

Got it yet? Go on, have another look...

 

Street level - an uninterrupted row of Georgian houses.

Aerial view - a great big gap between two of them.

 

The solution to the mystery is, of course, that numbers 23 and 24 Leinster Gardens are not houses at all, but merely false facades erected to protect the sensitive residents of the street from the reality of steam-powered tube travel.

 

It was deemed unsightly to have billows of steam erupting from the ground between these magnificent dwellings, so they simply decided to hide it all away behind false walls and painted-on windows (look again at the photo and the difference between the fake windows and the real ones next door is obvious).

 

The only problem is, they seem to have done a pretty poor job of it round the back, in Porchester Terrace... 



What goes on behind
closed doors...

... Or perhaps the residents here were not considered aesthetically sensitive enough (or rich enough or important enough) to warrant a similar bit of architectural subterfuge.

 

 

***

Round the corner from the Case Of The Missing Building, I find this chap, minding his own business. The sign on his neck reads "I am the goat of happiness" - which is nice...

 

 

 

 

 

***

Bayswater Station is on the road called Queensway, as is - unsurprisingly - Queensway Station. This is one of the difficulties of this endeavour - knowing quite how far to spread my exploratory wings from each station I visit. A lot of London's stations are so close that to draw any imaginary 'boundary' between them becomes meaningless - they are, in effect, serving the same streets and the same community.

 

Today I decide that, since Hyde Park, which is south of Queensway, is more than big enough to warrant a few separate entries from the various stations surrounding it, I shall consider the area north of Queensway station as 'belonging' to Bayswater.

 

Not that there's a great deal either of them would waste much time squabbling over. For an area with a reputation for affluence, there are a surprising number of very shabby tourist souvenir shops, and rather run-down looking cafes and restaurants. There is a shopping centre - Whiteleys - where the great and the good of Bayswater can buy the usual clothes, jewellery and frothy coffee, but it seems to be such a typical example of the genre that I decline its charms.

 

I do spot an intriguing bust (and who doesn't like an intriguing bust of a morning?) with an inscription which makes some fairly unequivocal claims about its subject... 

I can't help thinking that if Mr Skanderberg were truly the defender of Western civilisation he claims to be, I would have heard of him before now - which I haven't.

 

Also, given that he seems to have lived for a, frankly, piffling 63 years - he can't have been all that invincible either.

 

 

However, I have a meeting to get to, so I take a quick photo of the station, and then walk right past it and on to Queensway, five minutes further along, to get the Central Line into town.

 

***

It's a measure of how much this blog has already inveigled itself into my life that, when I get a phone call telling me the person I'm supposed to be meeting has got her dates mixed up and put today's meeting in her diary for next week by mistake, I'm actually quite pleased and relieved as it gives me more time for tube travel...

I'd already hoped to visit the next two stations on my list today, since Beckton and Beckton Park are, not surprisingly, both on the same stretch of the DLR and shouldn't take too long to visit. The next station after that is Becontree, which is way out east on the District Line, and it would be very useful if I could visit that today too, while I'm vaguely east any way, rather than having to start off with that long journey on my next trip.

So - better get a move on!

After a quick lunch, I work my way across to the DLR via the Northern and Jubilee Lines to Canning Town. Since it's lunchtime, I'm surprised by the number of people sleeping (or at least dozing) on the train. Of the seven people opposite me four of them have their eyes closed. Is it just the soporific effect of the daily commute? If so, the trip I'm doing is  the perfect antidote to this mind-numbing tedium. Take a different route people! Shake it up a bit!

At Canning Town I step almost immediately onto a DLR train that will terminate at my next destination, Beckton.

The journey, as always on the DLR, is quite pleasant, since the trains are light and airy and the route is an elevated one which allows you to take in the views of London's docklands as they pass by outside. The view could be more interesting, certainly, with the London City Airport being the main attraction on this stretch, but at least you can see it, thanks to the large windows of the trains.

Unfortunately there really isn't much more to see when I arrive in Beckton. Opposite the station is a retail park with a huge ASDA supermarket, and a bus depot, and as far as I can see, not much else.

Beckton - not much happens here.

There is, rather incongruously, a statue of some horses, which I later find out was sculpted by an artist called Brian Yale in the 1990s - but it does little to enhance the rather bland surroundings.

'Horses' by Brian Yale - fighting a losing battle I fear.

The area was created in the 19th Century as a residential area to house the workers at the local gas and sewage works, which is an inauspicious start for any budding suburb. It was named after the chairman of the Gas Light And Coke Company (which was later to become British Gas), Simon Adams Beck - who must have been very proud...

Almost directly opposite the station, and easily missed is an extraordinarily long and straight tree-lined pathway which, the map outside the station tells me, leads to Beckton District Park.

The path (known as the 'Beckton Corridor' on the maps) is so long and straight that I sense some history here, and looking it up later, discover that it actually follows the route of a former railway, long since closed down, that used to serve the gas works. The final stretch of the DLR line arriving at Beckton was built over the existing line.

Within two minutes of entering the leafy avenue, the sound of traffic has faded to a distant hum, and been replaced by a chorus of birdsong. It's always a pleasure to experience this in London, which is normally such a hectic beehive of activity - it's nice to remember that there are pockets of tranquillity to be found all over London, if you take the time to look for them.

The park (which must presumably be the 'Beckton Park' of my next destination, despite the addition of the word 'District') is a fairly basic affair - there's a small pond on my right as I leave the 'Corridor' and then nothing but grass, with a few goalposts strategically placed here and there.

Still, it's peaceful and relaxing and, since the sun is by now well and truly out, it provides a pleasant backdrop as I continue my stroll south to Beckton Park station.

South?

But, surely, on the tube map...?

Yes - I know - it's one of those infuriating times when geography simply refuses to bow to the cartographer's will. The Beckton branch of the DLR actually loops back on itself. Having gone east for most of its length, it heads north at Gallions Reach and then West towards Beckton, which means that by the time you reach Beckton you're almost due north of Beckton Park. None of this is represented on the tube map of course.

The station at Beckton Park is, it seems, just another isolated stop on the line. There's nothing here other than the park I've just walked through to justify having a station here at all. I presume there are people living in the area who need transport links into town, but as I've just demonstrated, it's hardly a long walk to the next station. It's as if those responsible for planning the DLR just stuck pins in a map and played 'join the dots'.



Beckton Park - it's in Beckton... near a park...

Having stopped only briefly in this part of town, therefore, I catch the train back northwards to West Ham, where I get the District Line out to Becontree.

***
The station is, supposedly, haunted by a faceless ethereal blonde female ghost, although the only vacuous blonde I see is on a poster for Lynx deodorant, and I don't think she counts.


Becontree - Seen any ghostly blondes lately?

The area itself, which when it was originally built consisted primarily of residential council housing, was apparently the largest housing estate in the world. I'm not sure that's really a claim to fame. It's a bit like boasting that you're the most boring guest at a party...

Initially I fear the area is going to let me down - with its depressingly familiar row of shabby shops and take-aways. But mindful of past experiences, I wander a little further on northwards, and am rewarded with another park to explore. Parsloes Park is again one of those oases of peace that I love finding in London.

Parsloes Park

There's a large pond (or small lake - I'm never sure at which point the one becomes the other) in the south west corner, and I do a lazy circuit of it, taking photos of some of the local wildfowl I see along the way.

This is much more my idea of a 'proper' park. It has wildlife, grass, trees, undulating landscape, and play areas for children. The sun is shining, the air is full of birdsong, and the gentle buzz of people chattering as they stroll by washes over me.

I notice that the majority of voices I hear seem to belong almost exclusively to Russian speakers. There must be a large community here. However, it's nearly twenty years since I last studied that language at University, and other than the odd word, it's all just noise to me.

But what a pleasant end to a pleasant day - I head home tired but contented.

 

Are you looking at me?