'Security'

Day 76

 

Royal Victoria - Ruislip - Ruislip Gardens - Ruislip Manor - Russell Square

 

A very pleasant and sunny day today as I set off on what will (hopefully) be the final jaunt among the 'Rs'.

 

My journey today will take me back and forth across town as I head firstly to the east on the DLR, then way out west to the various (and there are several) Ruislip stations, before finishing off with the rather more centrally located Russell Square.

I'm conscious - who could not be - that I'm travelling in and through central London less than a week after the events that have already become known as the 'Westminster Attack' - when a man drove a car into dozens of innocent pedestrians on Westminster Bridge, killing 3 of them and injuring many more, before fatally knifing a fourth - a policeman - within the gates of the Houses of Parliament.

However, the one thing these attackers always fail to realise is that - however shocking the events may be at the time - none of their attempts at creating terror have any other effect than to strengthen our resolve to carry on exactly as normal.

And while my own version of carrying on as normal may not be significant in the cosmic scheme of things, I certainly don't plan to let a bunch of religious zealots tell me what I can and can't do with my day.

So - pfftt!! to you Mr Terrorist, and let's get started with a trip out east on the DLR and a visit to the Royal Victoria Dock.

***

 

Royal Victoria

 

Unfortunately (from a travel blogger's point of view) the DLR station known as Royal Victoria is a bit of a 'non-station' for me as - to all intents and purposes - I've been here already.

 

Royal Victoria Dock

 

Emirates Airline

The DLR station sits only a few metres from the Emirates Airline stop known as 'Royal Docks' (which of course was part of my 'E' collection) and thus anything of interest in the area has already been duly recorded elsewhere in this blog.

 

 

That said, it's a sunny day, and a half hour or so spent wandering around the western perimeter of the dock, as the cable cars trundle sedately back and forth above my head is no real trial of my patience.


This is the largest of the three 'Royal' docks (the others being Royal Albert and King George V), which line the north bank of the Thames between Canning Town and Beckton. It was the site of the huge Jean Michel Jarre concert, 'Destination Docklands' - in which the dilapidated buildings became the backdrop to the spectacular laser and fireworks show that accompanied the French musician's electronic music.

 

I walk around to the southern side of the dock, where today there is a modern development of houses and flats, in front of which the old dock cranes stand sentinel.

 

Housing on the southern side of the dock.

 

From here I look back towards the station ('landing stage'?) of the cable cars. There are plenty of people taking the cars today - including several parties of school-children - and it seems the novelty of this particular tourist attraction has yet to wear off. (The novelty of taking the same old photos of the cable cars has palled, however, which explains the following artsy-fartsy attempt...)

 

Come fly with me...

Behind the cable car lines are several tower blocks, mainly residential. On top of one of these I notice a small figure, and it takes me a moment or two to confirm that it is actually a person, moving about up on the roof.

 

Spot the maniac.

Quite what he's doing up there I have no idea. I assume, since a close-up reveals several ropes securing him to the roof, that he's an officially licensed workman, rather than a suicidal maniac, but one never knows...

 

Just hanging around on a roof...

Still, he doesn't seem to be doing anybody (including himself) any harm, so having seen a bit more of the dock, I move on.

 

***

Next up it's the first of three stations in the town of Ruislip, to the west of London.

In total there are actually five stations here, but one of the others is a 'South...' and the second is a 'West...', so - irritatingly - I'm unable to tick these two off while I'm here.

Instead I'm visiting the remaining three, which sensibly either begin with the town's name - or (in the case of the first) simply is the town's name...

Ruislip

Ruislip Station is the one nearest to the centre of the town. The High Street is just to the north and is a fairly typical example, though there are architectural hints here and there of the town's more ancient history.

High Street

It's an old town - appearing in the Domesday Book - with a 13th Century church at the top of the High Street, and the remains of a 'motte and bailey' fort beyond that.

It's also very quiet when I arrive, despite it being - by now - well into the lunch hour.



St Martin's

I walk northwards to St Martin's - the aforementioned 13th Century church - which is tucked away behind the store fronts that line the top end of the High Street.

Not being of a religious persuasion, I can only appreciate the church and its grounds from an aesthetic point of view - but to that extent they are both picturesque enough. In fact the church underwent a restoration in 1870 by none other than Sir George Gilbert Scott, who five years earlier had created the magnificent Midland Grand Hotel at St Pancras Station.

The spring daffodils give the venerable graveyard a splash of colour and the old phrase 'pushing up the daisies' leaps inevitably to mind as I wander among the  lopsided headstones.

St Martin's church graveyard

Beyond the church, across a mini-roundabout, is the entrance to the Manor Farm historic site. To the left as you enter the grounds is a duck pond, though the ducks are few and far between.



Duck Pond

Heron

There is a heron, perched to one side of the pond, and at the first sight of my camera he (or she - I'm not versed in such things) suddenly stands very tall and straightens its previously S-curled neck. I'm not sure whether this is a prelude to an attack, or simply showing off for the camera, but I play it safe and move on.







The site consists of a medieval barn dating from the same period as St Martin's church, plus a later farm house from the 16th Century.

The Manor Farm House

This latter is also built on the site of a 'Motte and Bailey', which, despite sounding like an ITV female detective series, is actually a type of 11th Century castle. For the (like me) uninitiated - it is explained in this informative plaque...

Motte and Bailey information.

Looking at my watch, I'm shocked to see that it's already gone 2pm and I'm still only two stations into the final set of 'Rs'. This is the problem with doing things alphabetically of course - having been at the Royal docks only last week, I had to visit them again this morning, then schlep all the way across town here to Ruislip.

Not only that but my next station (Ruislip Gardens, on the Central Line) is way off to the south of the town, whereas the one after that is right next door to the first Ruislip Station, back on the Piccadilly Line.

Grabbing a hurried lunch therefore I set off southwards on foot, since there's no convenient point where the two tube lines meet near here and the round trip would take me ridiculously out of my way.

After 20 minutes or so I realise that my decision to walk it may have been unwise. The walk is least another 10 minutes and time is really pressing on. Not only that but I'm sweating profusely, as the sunshine I was so pleased to see this morning is now not quite so welcome a walking companion (which is, let's face it, a typically hypocritical British response to good weather).

Luckily (in one sense) there's only one thing, other than the station, to see here, so it should be a brief visit.

The station is... functional.

Ruislip Gardens

Obviously all the interesting design work on the tube network went on closer to the centre of London (though if they can get Gilbert Scott out here surely they could manage someone with a bit more imagination for the tube station). Given the name - Ruislip Gardens - you'd expect a fair bit of greenery around the place, but all I can see is concrete.

The poet Sir John Betjeman tries to make the best of it  his poem 'Middlesex', but even he can't ignore the concrete and the fact that we're really not in the most idyllic of places...

"Gaily into Ruislip Gardens
Runs the red electric train,

With a thousand Ta's and Pardon's
Daintily alights Elaine;
Hurries down the concrete station
With a frown of concentration,
Out into the outskirt's edges
Where a few surviving hedges
Keep alive our lost Elysium - Rural Middlesex again."

There is actually a wooded area called Ruislip Gardens, to the west of the station behind a housing estate, but other than a bit of running water called Yeading Brook, there's not a lot going on there.

The main 'attraction' if it can be called that, is the nearby RAF Northolt air base.

RAF Northolt

This is the longest serving airfield in the RAF's history and in fact pre-dates the RAF itself, having been set up in 1915 when the RAF was still the Royal Flying Corps. It played a key role in the Battle of Britain (there's a replica Spitfire just inside the main gates) and was the base into which Princess Diana's coffin was flown following her fatal car crash in Paris.

Spitfire R(eplica)

Being a working RAF base, I obviously don't expect to be able to just wander around taking photos. Nevertheless, having taken a couple of shots from outside, and hoping to get a clearer view of the Spitfire, I approach the Guard Room and ask politely if I can take a few close-ups of it.

The answer is an equally polite, but unequivocal, 'No'.

But then, it's less than a week after the events on Westminster Bridge and security is, not unnaturally therefore, at a heightened level.

In fact that's exactly what the sign outside the Guard Room tells me. There's a slot beneath the words 'Current Security Level', into which the word 'Heightened' has been placed. The guards inside are very affable, and it's all completely understandable, but it does mean that my sojourn here - an hour long round trip on foot - has been effectively for the sake of three not very interesting photos...

***
And it doesn't get much more interesting at my next stop - Ruislip Manor.

Ruislip Manor

This was all rural land, owned by King's College, Cambridge of all places, before the railway arrived and the station was built in 1912.

These days the station stands on a fairly busy shopping street - almost a second High Street in fact - called Victoria Road. Across the road is a rail bridge, decorated in the Piccadilly Line colours, but otherwise it's all Wetherspoons and Fried Chicken.

Ruislip Manor (in case you missed it)

Time to move on again...

***
And here we are - the final R station - Russell Square.

Russell Square

And again, the shadow of terrorism has crossed this place in recent years, as it was on a train travelling between King's Cross St Pancras and Russell Square, that a bomb explosion killed 26 people - half the total number of victims killed in the 7/7 attacks (not counting the terrorists themselves).

However, despite the attack last week, and the resultant 'heightened' security at places like RAF Northolt, London is, as usual, defiantly sticking two fingers up at those who would seek to terrorise us, and is getting on with life pretty much as normal.

Russell Square gardens

Duke of Bedford

The station is named after the Square and gardens to the west of it, which in turn were named after the surname of the 5th Duke Of Bedford, who developed much of the Bloomsbury area. His statue stands at the southern edge of the gardens in the Square.









T.S. Eliot wos 'ere

At the north west corner of the square is a plaque commemorating the fact that the poet T.S. Eliot once worked as a literary adviser in the offices of Faber and Faber publishing house on this site (now owned by the University of London).

While there, he oversaw the publishing of works by W.H. Auden, Ezra Pound, James Joyce and Walter De La Mare, among many others.

Oak Tree for the victims
of the 7/7 bombings,

On the western side of the gardens, near to the café in the north west corner, is a relatively recently planted oak tree. This stands as a memorial to the victims of the 7/7 bombings and was (as a plaque at the foot of the tree tells us) the spot where the many floral tributes were laid immediately after the bombings.



Plaque at the Oak Tree



GOSH Entrance

Moving away from the square itself, and heading east, I come to one of this area's other famous landmarks, though one to which most people would I'm sure hope never to have to come.



This is the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Sick Children or GOSH for short.





Founded in 1852 by Dr Charles West, with just 10 beds, it was the first of its kind in England. It drew the patronage of Queen Victoria, and was aided in fundraising by Charles Dickens.

Famously, in 1929 J.M. Barrie gave the copyright to his most famous creation - Peter Pan - to the hospital, from which they have benefited enormously.

Peter Pan and Tinkerbell

It's no surprise therefore to find a statue of the 'boy who wouldn't grow up' just outside the main entrance.

A little info about Peter...

Children and their welfare seem to be well looked after in this area, as another landmark, this time to the north of the station, testifies.

Coram's Fields, and more specifically the Harmsworth Memorial Playground, occupy the site of the former Foundling Hospital set up by Captain Thomas Coram in the 18th Century, to look after the unwanted children of the area.

Eventually the hospital itself was moved out of London in 1920 and the land was initially sold to a developer. The locals organised a massive fundraising campaign and the land was turned into the open space you see today.

As a nod to its history, no adult is allowed to enter the park unless 'accompanied by a child'.

Sadly I neglected to bring the requisite child on my travels today.

History of the park

I feel a little conspicuous taking photos of such a place while not being allowed inside, so I refrain from photographing any of the children enjoying the playground, and instead just snap the faded signs outside which give a little of the history.








It's so faded in fact that even close up it's difficult to make out.

So here - lifted straight from the website - is a transcription:

"The site of the Foundling Hospital established in 1739 by Captain Thomas Coram were offered for sale as building land in 1926 when owing to changing social conditions the old Hospital was sold and demolished.

After eight years anxiety as to its fate the site was eventually preserved for the use and welfare of the children of Central London by the generosity and vision of Harold Viscount Rothermere, by the efforts of the Foundling Site Appeal Council, by the co-operation of the Governors of the Foundling Hospital and of the Education Committee of the London County Council, and by the enthusiasm of many thousands of donors, large and small, who contributed their money or their toil to the saving of these nine acres, henceforth to be known as Coram's Fields."

And that completes my day - and indeed, completes another letter of the jolly old alphabet.

I'm taking a week off next week, during which I'll be heading to the Yorkshire Dales and Wensleydale country. So, on the assumption that I'll then need to burn off several hundred cheese related calories, I look forward to striding purposefully out once more to kick off the letter S on my return.

Until then - toodle-pip!

'Many Rivers To Cross'

Day 75

 

Rickmansworth - Roding Valley - Rotherhithe - Royal Albert - Royal Oak

 

"...and then, one Thursday, nearly two thousand years after one man had been nailed to a tree for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change, a girl sitting on her own in a small café in Rickmansworth suddenly realized what it was that had been going wrong all this time, and she finally knew how the world could be made a good and happy place. This time it was right, it would work, and no one would have to get nailed to anything."

(Douglas Adams, The Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy)

 

...Unfortunately - as has been well recorded - the Earth was then unexpectedly demolished by a Vogon Constructor Fleet to make way for a new hyperspace bypass, and the idea was lost forever, as indeed was the café, the girl, and the town she happened to be in at the time - Rickmansworth.

 

Which is where I too happen to be this morning, though thankfully the real life version has not, as yet, been vaporised by a passing spaceship.

 

Rickmansworth

 

'The Farm of Ryckmer' (or Richemaresworthe, Rykemerewrthe, Rikmansworth, Rykemerysworth, and any number of other variations on the name Rickmansworth) is a pleasant town to the north west of London, in Hertfordshire, in what is known as the Three Rivers district (for reasons which will become clear).

 

Sadly, I'm afraid I experience none of the revelatory enlightenment described by the late Mr Adams while I'm here.

 

Perhaps I'm sitting in the wrong café as I sip my cappuccino. Or perhaps it requires the threat of imminent global annihilation to get the synapses firing properly.

 

Or perhaps it's just because it isn't a Thursday.

 

In any event, given the sort of people currently running some of the major world powers, global annihilation (albeit self-inflicted) might not be so far off. Either way, I think I'd rather take my chances as a stow-away on the Vogon ship, than stick around on Earth in the forlorn hope that humanity will ever come to its senses...

 

***

Anyway, back to 'Ricky' (as the locals have it).

 

We're in the heart of 'Metro-Land' here - all genteel terraces and mews cottages - it's almost the very definition of quaint.



Quaint (adj.) - see 'Rickmansworth'

On the other hand, most of these are in or near the town centre, and have been converted into solicitor's offices or hair-dressing salons, which does lessen the aesthetic impact somewhat.

 

High Street

There are still a few relatively untouched pockets left though, and the town has been used as a location for various films and TV shows, including Genevieve, two of the Indiana Jones films, Doctor Who, Foyle's War and The Professionals.

As I mentioned earlier, the district surrounding Rickmansworth is known as 'Three Rivers'. As you might be able to work out for yourselves, this is because three rivers - the Chess, the Gade and the Colne - all meet just to the south of the town. In fact all three rivers flow into the Grand Union Canal, which also passes through the area, but I suspect that calling it the 'Three Rivers and A Canal, Oh And A Few Lakes As Well' District, would have proved a too much of a mouthful.
 

 

River Colne

I wander southwards, out of the town centre, to have a look at the various waterways - or as much of them as I can find.

 

The River Colne is the first stretch I come across. It's tucked away for the most part among thick foliage, but you can catch a glimpse of it as you pass over the main road to the south of the town.

Crossing this road - Riverside Drive - I find a path leading to the Canal.

Grand Union Canal

Even here, the quaintness of the traditional waterway has been somewhat eclipsed by the intrusion of modern life. Next to me on this side of the canal is the local rubbish dump, and across the water there are some very modern looking offices. These belong (appropriately enough given the watery location) to Nestlé Waters UK - the company behind such brands as Perrier and S.Pellegrino. Not that the water comes from here, you'll be glad to know - the only UK water bottled by the company comes from the springs of Buxton in Derbyshire.

Retracing my steps a little, I head back to town along the other side of the River Colne, where things get a little more picturesque again.

River Colne - again

And from there it's back to the town centre, the station, and a similar trek to last week - all the way across town to the far end of the Central Line and the Fairlop Loop.

***

Roding Valley Station is, not altogether surprisingly, situated in the valley created by the River Roding - which, if you recall, I encountered on my visit to Redbridge on day 74.

It's taken me a good hour and a half to get here from Rickmansworth (which itself was an hour and a quarter from home) so the day has half gone by the time I arrive at this, only my second station of the day.

I leave the station by the exit handily located right next to the platform on which I arrive.

Turning to take my habitual photo of the station entrance, I'm a little disconcerted to discover that someone seems to have built a house in the way. I can understand stations being built next to existing houses - but this building is so obviously a new-build that it seems clear it was constructed with the station already in situ.

Roding Valley Station - being photo-bombed by a Two-Up-Two-Down

It seems an odd choice of location for a domestic residence - right next door to a tube station (albeit one as relatively quiet as this one undoubtedly is). Or perhaps this is one of those houses they use in adverts for double glazing - just to prove how little of the outside world you can hear through the glass.

In fact, both the station and the area surrounding it are very quiet - almost eerily so.

I wander southwards from the station, in search of the River Roding - since rivers seem to be becoming the theme of today.

For a long time I neither see nor hear anyone at all as I walk the streets, lined with fairly modern looking houses, most of which are trying to look the exact opposite - there's lots of 'mock Tudor' going on.

Mock Tudor houses - and an actual living breathing person!

At one point I do spot a postman going about his business, and judging by his expression as I take a photo, he's as surprised as I am to encounter another human being on these streets.

Eventually, hidden at the far end of a rugby club's pitch, I find the river. Actually I'd describe it more as a stream than a river, though it looks picturesque enough for all that.

River Roding

There's some sort of lake or reservoir on the other side of it (according to Google Maps at least) though I can't see it from my current standpoint. I set off in search of a way of crossing the river in order to have a look at the lake (or whatever) but spend a fruitless half hour failing to find one.

Welcome to Essex

What I do find is this sign - which tells me that I'm actually walking into the county of Essex, having crossed the boundary of Greater London.

I'm sure the facts that (a) this is now Essex, and (b) there's a warning that Police Automatic Number Plate Recognition is being used, are entirely coincidental...

Another discovery I make is that, earlier, I must have left the station by the 'back door' so to speak. It was the nearest exit to the platform I arrived on, but it appears there was another exit across a footbridge and out via the opposite platform, and that this is the 'main' entrance to the station.

It's also - weirdly - across the county boundary from the entrance I used. The boundary seems to align exactly with this section of the Central Line's tracks - meaning that one platform is in London, while the other is in Essex. I don't know if this is the only such anomaly in a Tube Station, but it certainly adds a frisson of interest to an otherwise lacklustre experience.

Anyway, having taken a photo of the second - and (slightly) more edifying - station entrance, I head off on my travels once again.

Roding Valley

***

Rotherhithe is next up and this time it's the old familiar Thames, which is our watery companion.

Rotherhithe

It's south of the river - across the water from Wapping, and to the west of the Isle Of Dogs - and this location explains its long nautical history. There have been shipyards and docks here since Elizabethan times - though of course no longer, having all been closed down in the 1980s.

The Thames from Rotherhithe

The station is a few hundred yards from the river - on a road called Brunel Road - and this familiar name is another indication of the history of this area. In fact, there's a 'Brunel Museum' just behind the station - though its subject might come as a bit of a surprise.



Brunel Museum



The 'Engine House'

Most people will be familiar with the name Isambard Kingdom Brunel, and with his many feats of engineering.

Fewer perhaps will be aware that his father - French-born Marc Isambard Brunel - was also an accomplished engineer, and that the two worked together on a project here in Rotherhithe.

The 'Thames Tunnel' - a 35 foot wide tunnel under the Thames connecting Rotherhithe and Wapping -  was constructed between 1825 and 1843 by the father and son team, and used Marc Brunel's innovative 'tunnelling shield' (depicted in the mural on the outside wall of the museum in the photo above) to enable the workers to dig safely.

The shield was a moveable 'wall' of 36 individual cells - each holding one workman - with a removable 'door' of boards at the front, and open to the rear. The boards at the front of the cells rested against the earth to be removed.

The worker would remove the boards, dig out the earth in front of him and discard it out of the shield behind him. Having done so, the boards of the cell would be pushed forward into the cavity and propped against this new surface. Each cell was then propelled forward along two screws so that the entire shield gradually moved into position against the new tunnelling face, where the whole procedure could be repeated.

The Engine House

The tunnel is now used by the London Overground (ironically, since 'over ground' is the one thing a tunnel, by definition, cannot be) travelling between Rotherhithe and Wapping.

And a plaque to the rather better known Brunel.

The museum is housed in what used to be the Engine House - where pumps operated to evacuate water from the tunnel. I don't go inside, as time is pressing on, but their website tells me that the museum contains various artefacts and informative diagrams, telling the history of the tunnel. There are also, at irregular intervals, guided tours of the tunnel itself - but since these only take place on an ad hoc basis, when the Overground Line is closed for maintenance.

Past the museum, with its back towards the river, is a rather ramshackle little pub called The Mayflower.



The Mayflower



The name, which comes from the famous ship which carried the Pilgrim Fathers (and, presumably, the Pilgrim Mothers and a few Pilgrim Offspring) to the 'New World', might seem an odd choice for a pub so far from the voyage's official departure point of Plymouth - but this is where the nautical history of Rotherhithe reveals itself once more.

 

 

 

The Mayflower, although it has become known for a single voyage, was a working ship much like any other - carrying cargo such as wine, fish, wool and other goods between London and various ports around Europe.



But it was apparently from Rotherhithe that the Mayflower set off on the first (and little reported) stage of its most famous voyage.

It sailed from here to Southampton in July 1620, carrying about 65 passengers, and was due to set sail from Southampton (not Plymouth) in August, alongside another ship called the Speedwell carrying colonists from Holland.

However, the Speedwell really wasn't up to the job, and sprang various leaks shortly after setting sail. Both ships returned to port, and it was the Mayflower alone, having restocked on provisions at Plymouth, which finally set sail with 102 passenger bound for America in September 1620.

The pub stands by the original mooring point, and claims to be 'the oldest pub on the river Thames' (a claim I'm sure made by several other pubs along the river) though as usual you have to take this with a 'philosopher's axe' point of view. While there was a pub of some description here at the time of the Mayflower it certainly wasn't the current building, which only dates from the 1950s. It's been both rebuilt and renamed several times over the years, so - like the axe - can it still be said to be the same pub?

 

The Mayflower returned to England in 1621, and less than a year later it's captain - Christopher Jones - died here in his home town of Rotherhithe. There's a church across from the pub called St Mary's, and Captain Jones is supposedly buried somewhere in the churchyard, though the grave's location was lost when the church was rebuilt in the 18th Century.

 

***

I leave Rotherhithe and make my way east to my next stop, which is on the DLR.

 

Royal Albert station stands to the north of the dock of the same name, which itself is to the north of the only site of any real interest here - City Airport.

 

Royal Albert

 

For once the DLR station has a name-sign at street level, so I'm able to get a proper photo for my collection.

 

The dock is of course named after Prince Albert, and is next door to the one named after his wife - the Royal Victoria dock. There's a modern office complex immediately next door to the station, which houses the London Borough of Newham Council, but it's the airport across the dock which grabs your attention.

 

From here you get a pretty clear view (unusual in these days of heightened airport security) of the runway, with the huge Tate & Lyle Sugars factory behind it. The factory awaits me when I visit Silvertown, so for now I concentrate on the airport.

 

City Airport

 

Last time I was in this part of town there didn't seem to be much aviatory activity, but today I do at least manage to see a few planes taking off, which is always a childish pleasure.

 

Look mummy, there's an aeroplane up in the sky...

 

Standing in an isolated plot of lawn across from the council offices, surrounded by low chains, is a statue - or rather, group of statues - which, though striking, looks oddly out of place in this place of business suits and meeting rooms.

 

China-UK Friendship Statue

It's called the 'China-UK Friendship Statue' and is a depiction of a polo match - though one between two very different teams. Two modern British players take on two ancient Chinese ones, in a piece that was created as a gift to the UK by Chinese sculptress Huang Jian.

 

A Chinese polo player - in 'relaxed' clothing

The piece was originally displayed at the Olympic Park, and is the second of a series (the first was made for the Beijing Olympics) which the artist hopes to continue for future Games. A description of the statue in both Chinese and English stands at its feet (though - because of the chains - it's difficult to view it close enough to read at anything other than a right-angle).

 

Details of the statue - if you can read them, that is...

 

Now, because I'm really nice, I'll be good to you and give you a painstakingly transcribed copy of the inscription, so you don't have to strain your eyes trying to read it on the photo above:

 

"China is the birthplace of ancient polo, which was popular among royal families during the Tang Dynasty. The UK gave birth to modern polo, which became an Olympic sport in 1908 and popular all over the world. In 2008 famous Chinese sculptress Huang Jian created for the Beijing Olympic Games "Emperor Ming Of Tang And His Concubine Yang Yuhuan Playing Polo", the only permanent large sculpture in the Beijing Olympic Park. Four years later, Huang created the sculpture of "2012 London Polo", in which Chinese lovers of ancient polo and British lovers of modern polo travel through time and space to gather in the London Olympic Park for a friendly polo match. 2012 marks the 40th anniversary of the establishment of diplomatic relations between China and the UK, and is also the year for the London Olympic Games. The sculpture symbolizes the friendship and cultural exchange between the two countries."

 

Coincidentally (perhaps) in 2013 the area to the east of the station was earmarked for development by a Chinese company into a huge business park called Asian Business Port, to be built in phases over 10 years. The first phase is due to be completed next year.

 

***

And so, at last, I reach my final station of the day - Royal Oak - after another fairly arduous trek across town.

 

Royal Oak

 

Because of the vagaries of the various timetables, my route from Royal Albert has involved changing from one DLR train to another at Canning Town, then getting a District Line train at West Ham, followed finally by a Hammersmith & City Line train from Aldgate East. All of which means that it's 4pm by the time I arrive at Royal Oak, and the evening rush hour is showing signs of getting under way.

 

Royal Oak is built on a bridge over the various train lines emerging from Paddington Station, which lies to the east. The bridge is called Lord Hill's Bridge - after a British Army Officer called Lt. General Rowland Hill, 1st Viscount Hill, who served under Wellington in the Napoleonic Wars.

 

Lord Hill's Bridge

 

The station, rather less grandly, is named after a nearby pub (since renamed The Porchester) which stands some way to the south of the bridge at the corner of Porchester Road and Bishop's Bridge Road.

 

The (former) Royal Oak - now The Porchester

 

To the north of the station the busy A40 carries traffic overhead on a flyover, and this - coupled with the railway tracks below the bridge, effectively sandwich the station between two of London's major 'arteries'.

 

As a result, there isn't - I have to admit - an awful lot to interest me in the area. There are a few shops, and the aforementioned pub, but little else before you get to places I've already visited like Queensway and Bayswater.

 

There's a scrap of land to the north, called Westbourne Green, where apparently Lord Hill once had a grand mansion - but this is now little more than a children's playground surrounded by tower blocks.

 

So, that's it for another day. Five more stations crossed off the list, and only another five 'Rs' to go before that letter too bites the dust. It's beginning to feel like I might actually be in sight of finishing this whole Wombling malarkey - possibly even before the end of this year.

 

Blimey!