'On The Road Again'

Day 13

Bow Church - Bow Road - Brent Cross - Brixton
 

Given the unexpected excitement of a couple of weeks ago, you might be forgiven for thinking that the lack of any recent activity on the tube travelling front was the result of nerves on my part. However, you couldn't be further from the truth if you were a tabloid journalist.

In fact, a combination of firstly, a tube strike which would have made travelling difficult and unpleasant, and secondly (and more agreeably) the fact that my wife Mrs Nowhere Man had taken the week off work, meant I was more occupied than usual at home, and subsequently not inclined to go a-wombling last week.

 

That said, I admit to a minor flutter or two as I set off this morning to walk to the tube. Natural enough, given what happened I suppose, but surprising nonetheless as I thought I had put the episode well and truly behind me. I'm sure (well, as sure as anyone can be) that nothing similar will happen today, but, well, you never know. However - let's not worry about that. I'm on the road again, and that's what matters...

***

First stop today is Bow Church on the DLR, although as the next stop - Bow Road (District and H&C Lines) - is only 300 metres away from it, the surrounding streets I'll be exploring will realistically be common to both.

Rather than the convoluted journey required to get me to the DLR, I start with a much simpler trip on the Central Line to Mile End. From there I could get a tube on a different line to Bow Road, and then walk to Bow Church. However, the pedant in me baulks at getting the two stations back to front (alphabetically speaking) so instead I decide to catch a bus from Mile End - enjoying being above ground for a change - and simply look the other way for a few seconds as we pass Bow Road station on the way to Bow Church.

The bus journey takes all of ten minutes, although there isn't much to see along the way. Bow Road (on which both stations sit) is mainly a collection of three or four storey buildings - presumably all now subdivided into flats - dotted with the odd row of shops. There's a police station (in case I need it later...), a pub or two, and of course the station itself, which is much like any other DLR station - its bright turquoise (Pantone 326, since you ask) signage standing out against today's rather cloudy sky.

Bow Church - not a church

There's not much else of interest however, until I reach the church - nestling on a tree-lined island in the middle of the road - after which Bow Church Station is named.

 

Standing in front of the church (and rather unfortunately over the entrance of some disused public toilets) is a statue of former Prime Minister William Gladstone, and immediately noticeable is the statue's red hands - and thereby hangs a tale...

Gladstone - finally, a
politician caught red-handed

The statue was commissioned by a certain Theodore H. Bryant of the famous match manufacturing firm, Bryant & May, who was a staunch supporter of the Liberal Party. Unfortunately, Bryant's liberality doesn't seem to have extended to his workforce, who apparently worked in very poor conditions. The 'match girls' as they were known, would eventually (and I'm reasonably confident, if a little disappointed, that no pun was intended here) strike in 1888 for better conditions. However, before that, in 1882 when the statue was unveiled, they were angered by their belief that the statue had been paid for (at least in part) by them each having a shilling deducted from their wages. Consequently, they gathered at the unveiling with stones and bricks in their pockets (although it is not clear whether anything was actually thrown) and some even went to the extreme of cutting themselves and letting the blood trickle symbolically over the marble plinth.

In later years, the hands of the statue were daubed with red paint on several occasions, in remembrance and support of those who protested.

***

Bow Church - or to give it its full name, St Mary and Holy Trinity Church - is over 700 years old, although technically the majority of the actual building that now stands here is a little younger, dating from 1490. Bomb damage during the blitz (the 'B's really didn't have a good time of it during the war did they?) meant that the tower and other parts of the church needed to be rebuilt, which explains the mixture of very old stone and more recent red-brick seen as you approach the church through the tiny graveyard.

Bow Church - not a station

Despite the popular reference to this church as 'Bow Church', and the proximity of a pub called 'The Bow Bells', the church bells here are not, sadly, those that, according to folklore, give us the definition of the 'true' Cockney. Nor do they include the 'great bell of Bow' mentioned in the nursery rhyme 'Oranges and Lemons'. Both of these are actually references to the church of St Mary-le-Bow, which is located in Cheapside between the Bank Of England and St Paul's Cathedral - nowhere near Bow Road.

Two-Tone Church

Quite why the local pub was given such a misleading name is not quite clear, unless (like the apparently haunted ladies toilet to which it also lays claim) it is simply a ruse to entice the gullible passer-by in for a pint...

 

 

 

 

 

I walk back along Bow Road, nearly missing Bow Road station as it is semi-hidden behind a large tree and tucked back a little from the road - none of the brightly coloured modernity of the DLR here, this is good old-fashioned red-brick tubery in all its faded glory.

 



Bow Road - blink and you'll miss it



I walk past the station a little way back towards Mile End (Bow Road and Mile End Road are in fact both parts of the A11). I don't want to get all the way there of course, as I'll be having a look around Mile End station when I get to the 'M's, so I stop when a very brightly coloured clock on a wall on the opposite side of the street catches my eye.

 



Minnie Lansbury Memorial

The clock is a memorial to Minnie Lansbury - and I confess I had never heard of her, although perhaps I should have, given not only her activities as a leading suffragette, but also her family connections. She was the first wife of the actress Angela Lansbury's father, Edgar, and her father-in-law, George Lansbury, was Mayor of Poplar and, later, the leader of the Labour Party.

 

 

As well as fighting for women's suffrage, once elected to Poplar Council she was also one of several councillors (male and female) who were jailed for taking pity on the poor and needy of the surrounding area by refusing to implement rises in the rates they were charged. Not, sadly, a sacrifice I can imagine any of our present day representatives having the moral fibre to make for their community.

 

The clock looks remarkably bright and gleaming for an eighty-odd year old memorial to a suffragette, and in fact, it was restored as recently as 2008 thanks to public donations including one from Angela Lansbury.

 

It begins to rain within seconds of me taking a photo of the memorial clock, so I scuttle back to the station to work out my route to Brent Cross - the next on my list. There are a couple of ways I could get there on the tube, although I'd have to change lines, but something makes me hesitate. Sitting on the bus earlier this morning has given me a taste for being above ground today, so I decide to do the same now, and catch a bus from Bow Road to Bank (passing some old friends along the way - hello Aldgate East and Aldgate, how's it going?) and get the northern line from there to Brent Cross.



***

If Brent Cross is famous at all, it is probably for one or other of two things. Firstly, it is the place from which the mother of all British Motorways, the M1 starts its journey northwards to Leeds (and of course, southwards from Leeds - they let you go both ways you know). 193 miles of joyful and pain-free motoring (ahem) start here, at Junction 1.

 

The second thing Brent Cross has going for it is the large shopping centre of the same name. With big name department stores, coffee shops a-plenty, and regular events for kids and adults alike, hours of joyful and pain-free shopping (ahem, ahem) await you within...

 

No - not for me thanks.

 

I've spent more than enough time both driving and shopping here to know exactly what each activity entails, so instead I decide to just wander a little.

 

In any case, the tube station is a fair walk from the shopping centre (and even further from the M1) so I'll stick to the rather twee residential streets around it, and see what I can find.

 

Brent Cross - not to be confused with a Greek Temple

There are two things I know I'll find sooner or later, assuming I head vaguely northwards - one is the River Brent, which of course gives the area its name, and the second is yet another famous road (are we the only country that considers roads worthy of fame?) - the A406, or (more commonly) the North Circular Road, or (even more commonly) the 'North Circ.'

 

I cross the North Circ. via a foot-bridge, and experience the little thrill I'm sure many people feel as the reach the centre and stand over the fast-moving stream of vehicles. It feels somehow daring to be so close to, and yet above, the traffic.

 

Or is that just me....?

 

A406 - North Circular - crowd-surfing not recommended.

 

Across the A406 are more residential streets, including one on which, unexpectedly I spot a blue plaque, sitting on a rather dilapidated looking house. The name on the plaque is vaguely familiar, but I need to look it up later to remind myself.

 

'Little Tich' lived and died here. Nice.

'Little Tich', who apparently both lived and died at this house, was a music hall artiste (real name Harry Relph), who, not surprisingly given his stage-name, was only 4½ feet tall. He was famous for his 'Big-Boot Dance' (in which he wore boots which were over two feet long) dancing on the points like a ballerina and leaning at extreme angles.

 

Watching the youtube clip of him performing, I can't help sensing a hint of desperation in his act. I know it was a different time, and I'm sure many people enjoyed what he did, but I wonder how happy he was being, to all intents and purposes, a freak show.

 

Round the corner, in a somewhat secluded gap between the houses on one side, and the North Circular on the other, is the River Brent - or part of it at least.

 

Mindful of the events of two weeks ago, I'm a little wary at first, and keep my camera safely hidden in my bag until I've checked things out. However, there are regular passers-by, and a gardener mowing a lawn in a nearby garden, so I relax a little and take a photo of this rather sorry looking stretch of water.

 

River Brent - not looking its best here.

The Brent flows from Barnet in North London to Brentford in the West and I'm sure there are places along its length where it looks very pretty and rural. Sadly, that's not the case here, where it seems to struggle for breathing space with the huge road running parallel to it, and the houses overlooking it on the other side.

 

Finding nothing else to interest me in these sleepy suburban streets, I head back to the station, and catch the train to my final destination of the day -  Brixton.

 

***

The centre of Brixton is, and there's no better word I can think of, vibrant.

 

The main street outside the station - Brixton Road - is bustling with shoppers and workers enjoying their lunch breaks. The market which occupies one of the side streets next to the station (Electric Avenue - made famous by the song of the same name by Eddy Grant) is equally hectic, despite it being midweek.

 

Brixton - lively and colourful, and that's just the station.

Opposite the station, up another side street, is a huge and colourful mural of David Bowie in full Ziggy Stardust paraphernalia - Bowie was born in Brixton, at 40 Stansfield Road, and the area is understandably proud of the connection.

 

David Bowie - 'turn and face the strange...'

Bowie also makes another appearance in Brixton - as the face of one of the area's own exclusive banknotes. The Brixton Pound (or B£) is a currency designed specifically for the use of Brixton residents and businesses. It works in parallel with the pound sterling, but ties local shoppers to local businesses, and therefore (it is hoped) will boost the local economy. On the face of it, this seems like a good idea, although I can't help imagining the chaos that would arise, were every area that fancies it to introduce their own currency. "How many Lambeth Lire to the Finchley Florin at the moment...?"

 

Although the centre of Brixton is very much full of hustle and bustle, just fifteen minutes walk away, along Brixton Hill and down a quiet residential back-street called Blenheim Gardens, is something that so epitomises 'Rural England' and the 'green and pleasant land' of yesteryear, that it seems completely alien to the busy suburb that surrounds it.

 

It's a windmill. A proper, honest-to-goodness, old-fashioned, 'Windy Miller' type windmill.

 

In Brixton.

 

I know!

 

Brixton Windmill - now you
weren't expecting that, were you!

Brixton Mill (or more correctly, Ashby's Mill) was of course built when the area was very much more 'green and pleasant' than it is today - surrounded by terraces, warehouses, shops and pubs. A small patch of green and a children's playground - collectively known as Windmill Gardens - is all that remains of the rural idyll.

 

 

 

It was a working mill until 1934, when it finally closed down and became derelict, which it remained until a restoration project began in 1964. Although restored and opened to the public, the mill seems to have then gone through a similar pattern of neglect, followed by restoration, followed by neglect again, until closing down once more in 1990.

 

It wasn't until 2003 that the 'Friends Of Windmill Gardens' were formed and restoration work began again. The current mill was opened to the public in 2010 and is open to visitors at weekends.

 

Today not being a weekend, I have to settle for a couple of photos of the outside of the mill, and a read of the information provided on a sign by the 'Friends Of Windmill Gardens'. I hope this time, the mill can finally enjoy a peaceful and neglect-free old-age.

 

Anyone else got the Camberwick Green theme tune in their head right now?

And so, having I hope exorcised any few remaining demons from my experiences in Bounds Green, I head home at the end of another day - with the last of the 'B's now definitely in sight, and a few stations further along the challenge!

 

A little background information.