'Pictures At An Exhibition'

Day 26

 

Crystal Palace - Custom House For Excel - Cutty Sark for Maritime Greenwich - Cyprus

 

Looking back over the last few posts on this blog, I do seem to have visited a disproportionate number of museums/exhibitions/historical dioramas on my way round the 'C's. What is it about this particular letter that encourages such an air of retrospection? I have no idea - but it continues today with three out of the four stations having connections to some exhibition or other, and the first of them being linked with the greatest exhibition of them all - The Great Exhibition of 1851.

They are also - praise be! - the last four stations in the 'C' section (not to be confused with the obstetric procedure of the same name). They do seem to have gone on forever, don't they. And I realise that any celebration must be short-lived, when I look at how many letters, and stations, I still have to visit. But for now at least, I'm pleased to chalk up another little mile-stone.

***

A tube strike on the Central Line today means that I'll have to get the District Line from Ealing instead. this isn't a huge problem as although the Central Line is generally the quicker of the two, on this occasion I'm going to have to change two or three times whichever Line I start off on, so it won't make much difference to my journey time.

 

Of the other people travelling on the train with me this morning, one immediately catches my eye (and raises a smile) as I appreciate a what seems to be a sense of humour similar to my own.

 

On the face of it, the person in question is as wildly different from me as you could imagine. Whereas I am relatively unadventurous in my attire and personal adornment, this twenty-something chap is decorated with several tattoos, various piercings, torn black drainpipe jeans, black hoodie, and a beard (as the writers of Blackadder would have it) you could lose a badger in. In other words, a typical example of what in my mind I would label 'Glastonbury Fodder'.

 

What catches my eye though is the tattoo, or rather tattoos, on the first two fingers of each hand.

 

Most of you will be familiar with, and possibly irritated by, the habit some people have of indicating mild sarcasm by the use of the hand gestures known as 'air quotes' - the representation of quotation marks in mid air by the flexing of the first two fingers of each hand.

 

Well, my travelling companion has taken it one step further by actually having quotation marks tattooed on the fingers in question, so that his 'air quotes' are clearly visible in black ink. Even better, he could, if he chooses, use just one of the fingers at a time, and thus indicate an apostrophe. Perhaps he plans to add a semi-colon or an exclamation mark to the other fingers to enable him to fully punctuate his speech.

 

Well, it appealed to my sense of humour...

 

***

Crystal Palace



Crystal Palace is my first port of call today and perhaps as a nod to the original structure of that name (more of which anon) the station has a certain grandeur to it, with tall arches dominating the platforms in a building which is clearly a period piece.

 

It sits right at the entrance to Crystal Palace Park, and it's into this park that I immediately turn on my arrival.

 

Although the park, and the area surrounding it, have long been known as Crystal Palace - the glass and cast-iron extravaganza that was the original 'Crystal Palace' building is no more, having burned down in 1936, and in fact it was actually first erected in Hyde Park for the Great Exhibition in 1851. It was only moved here in 1854.

 

The 'Great Exhibition Of The Works Of Industry Of All Nations' (to give it its full title) was the brainchild of Queen Victoria's husband Prince Albert and housed some 100,000 exhibits - from printing presses and calculating machines to 'Defensive Umbrellas' and expanding hearses. It made a huge profit, and this money went on to be used to build the various museums in South Kensington which were a project close to Albert's heart. the Albert Memorial opposite the Royal Albert Hall even has his figure holding a copy of the Great Exhibition catalogue on his knee.

 

The Crystal Palace was designed by Joseph Paxton, and was a pretty impressive feat of engineering, being a modular construction which could be erected (and later removed) in a relatively short space of time. The construction in Hyde Park took just nine months. Following the exhibition it was simply taken down and rebuilt on what was then known as Penge Common, but which is now the Crystal Palace Park.

 

Although the Palace is long gone, there remain in this park a number of curiosities which make it well worth a visit.

 

First up is the Athletics Track in the Crystal Palace Sports Centre, which was the location for the scene in The Italian Job that has spawned more dodgy Michael Caine impressions than any other. The landscape has changed somewhat since the total destruction of a small white van prompted Mr Caine to expound: "you're only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!" but I take a picture anyway.

My name... is NOT 'Michael Caine'...

 

A little further round there's a lake, around which, in a kind of suburban Jurassic Park, lurk several large sculptures of dinosaurs.

Jurassic Park?

 

Made of brick and concrete around an iron frame, the sculptures predate Charles Darwin's Origin Of Species... by about six years, and although rather inaccurate compared with what we know today, at the time they would have represented a controversial and radical view of world history.



Labyrinthodon



Plesiosaurus and Ichthyosaurus



 

Teleosaurus



Iguanadon



Megalosaurus



Megaloceros



 

 



Guy The Gorilla

Further round still is a statue of Guy The Gorilla. I'm not sure what the link with Crystal Palace Park is, but David Wynne's statue of one of London Zoo's most famous former residents is certainly popular with the numerous kids playing around it as I walk past today.

 

Crossing the park I pass an ornate bell in a covered timber structure. There doesn't seem to be any indication of why it is here, but I later discover it is apparently a memorial to the merchant seamen who lost there lives in WW2.

 

I'm all for memorials, but I do think it would be useful to tell people what exactly it is you're commemorating...

 

Memorial Bell

On the northern side of the park is a maze, which I judge from the semi-panicked cries of parents telling their kids to "stop running and stay exactly where you are", must be rather a good one. It is in fact one of the largest mazes in the country and was, among other things, the location of a scout rally in 1909 at which a few daring girls approached Sir Robert Baden-Powell and asked him if he could set up 'something for the girls'. He went on to create the Girl Guide movement the following year.

 

I don't go into the maze as I have to move on, but I do take a moment to photograph the 'Escape Gate', which seems to me to defeat the object of a maze...

Missing the point, surely?

 

TV Transmitter Tower

I move on to the last of the Park's features - the TV Transmitters. They were built in the days of analogue TV back in the 1950s, but continue to broadcast even in today's digital age.

 

But it's time to move on - I'm sure there's more to see here, and I could spend a whole day exploring, but I've got three more 'C's to tick off by the end of the day and time and Tubes wait for no man...

 

 

***

Conveniently, the last three stations are all on the DLR network. Inconveniently, the first and third are on one branch, while the second is on a completely different branch and south of the river.

 

Still, this DLR odyssey shouldn't take me too long to travel between them all if all runs smoothly.

 

Custom House

The first of the three remaining stations has the rather ponderous name of 'Custom House for ExCeL' - the ExCel in question being an exhibition centre (continuing the 'exhibition theme' of today's travels.)

 

The curiously capitalised 'ExCeL' is an acronym which stands for Exhibition Centre London, and thus causes anguished pangs for those of us who have a horror of tautology.

 

Hearing the ExCeL referred to as either the ExCeL Centre (the second 'centre' is redundant) or worse, the ExCeL Exhibition Centre (i.e. the 'Exhibition Centre London Exhibition Centre'...erm, what?!?) is bad enough - but when I look up and see that even the building's owners have fallen into the tautological trap and put up a sign saying 'ExCeL London', I have an almost irresistible urge to start pulling my hair out and to sit gibbering in a corner.

 

The Exhibition Centre London London Exhibition Centre...

The station and the exhibition centre are linked by a covered walkway, and there's a large terrace overlooking Royal Victoria Square, where visitors to the centre and local workers can spend a pleasant lunch-hour.

 

It's not the prettiest building I've ever seen - but I don't suppose many exhibition centres have any aspirations in that direction - it's what's going on inside that's more important.

 

Today it's a convention for Jehovah's Witnesses, which not even for the sake of travelogue vérité, am I prepared to subject myself to (I'm not a believer, but even if I were, I think I'd be put off by the narrow-minded vitriol of many of the world's religions. In my opinion a 'christ' is for life, not just for dogmas...)

 

So instead I spend a few minutes walking around the square and down to the dockside. This is the Royal Victoria Dock and has been regenerated in much the same way as the other London docks - creating a welcoming waterside area while maintaining a visible link to its history as a working dock. Cranes still stand by the water, and in front of the ExCeL there is a memorial sculpture of dockers at work called, I understand, 'Landed'.

 

'Landed' - Dockers at work

Underneath the arches...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I take a few photos, but it's not long before I decide to move on and head south across the river to Greenwich, and the next station.

 

***

Cutty Sark for Maritime Greenwich - another mouthful of a station name - is one of two DLR stations in central Greenwich (the other being Greenwich itself) and is tucked away down a little pedestrian arcade.

 

Cutty Sark

I do wonder whether this penchant for naming DLR stations after the nearest big tourist attraction should be extended to the rest of the network. I'm sure the thousands of bemused tourists struggling to find their way around the Capital would find their lives much easier if the tube map included such stations as, for example, 'Charing Cross for Trafalgar Square', 'Green Park for Buckingham Palace', 'Oxford Street for overpriced tat...' and so on.

 

I walk the two minutes round the corner from the station to the Cutty Sark herself and after a few moments taking photos from outside, decide to pay my £13.50 to have a proper look round the ship.

Cutty Sark

 

Up the rigging

The Cutty Sark has for many years been a museum-ship and the recent restoration following a severe fire in 2007 has allowed the authorities to create a fully enclosed exhibition area inside, around and even below the hull of the vessel - although some areas work better than others.

 

Figurehead of the 'Cutty Sark'

Originally built in 1869, the Cutty Sark was a 'clipper' - one of the fast ships that bought goods (in this case tea and later wool) from China and the southern hemisphere - and was in service until 1922 when she was bought for use as a training ship. This continued (first in Falmouth and later in Greenhithe) until she was finally decommissioned and moved to dry-dock in Greenwich.

 

Lower Deck

Porthole view

Now restored to full 'multi-media visitor experience' glory, I'm somewhat disappointed with the lower decks. There are video displays, interactive screens, plastic 'ship's biscuits', and cuddly-toy rats under the tea-crates, all lovingly encased in Perspex to protect what remains of the original ship. It all feels rather sterile and plastic.

 

 

 

Once you get up top however, the ship comes alive. Miles of rigging criss-cross above your head and the wood of the deck and the cabins is a welcome change from the Perspex down below.

Rigging

 

Cutty Sark Bell

More Rigging

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A View From The Bridge

Don't fancy his job much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That's a lot of rope

It is an impressive ship, and an interesting half-hour's diversion - but I soon tire of the hordes of tourists blocking the gangways and ignoring the signs requesting 'please do not climb'. So I call it a day and get the DLR northwards once more.

 

Signal Flags

Figureheads

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

And so to the final station of the day, and the final 'C'.

 

Sadly, Cyprus station is a bit of an anti-climax. It's two stops from the end of the Beckton branch of the DLR, and lies to the north of the Royal Albert Dock. Unfortunately the University of East London blocks the path to the Dockside and all I can see looking south is concrete buildings.


Cyprus

Heading north from the station up East Ham Manor Way there's a medical centre and a newsagents but little else.

It seems a shame to end on such a disappointing note, but them's the breaks. All I can do is celebrate the end of another section, and look forward to the much shorter list of 'D's.

'C Jam Blues'

Day 25

Crossharbour - Crouch Hill - Croxley

I have a confession, and an apology, to make.

I'm not proud of it, and I know I've let you down, but I'm afraid I've fallen back into a bad habit. It's been creeping back in for some time now, but it's only recently that I've really noticed it, and I hope it's not too late to put things right.

The truth is, I've been reading.

 

I know - I feel terrible - sorry.

 

I started this blog with the best of intentions. I prided myself on not being one of the silent majority who bury their heads in their Dan Browns or Sophie Kinsellas or sit glued to their tablets or smartphones.

 

I looked about me and observed my fellow passengers. I looked out of the window (even when we were underground - I was that dedicated) and I enjoyed the thought that I was seeing things with a fresh eye.

 

However as the weeks have gone by, I've become complacent. I felt I'd seen it all. I could just kill time by picking up a book.

 

'Kill time' - says it all really. How about, breathing life into time? How about giving time a nudge in the ribs and saying, come on - let's do something fun!

 

So, with a guilty conscience, and a new found resolve, I'm sitting on the tube today with my eyes wide open. Bring it on world!...

 

***

...Obviously the world is in a bit of a huff and isn't coming out to play today.

 

The journey to Bank, from where I'll catch the DLR to Crossharbour, is unremarkable. Admittedly most of it is underground on the Central Line, but my fellow travellers add very little to the experience. They're the usual mix of day-trippers (with additional children, since we're in summer holiday season) and office workers - not an eccentric pensioner or wildly-dressed tourist among them.

 

Having said that, I realise that I do always look forward to travelling on the DLR, with its elevated view and modern-feeling trains. So the last part of my journey does at least give me something to see out of the window.

 

***

Crossharbour lies pretty much slap-bang in the middle of The Isle Of Dogs, between Millwall Docks to the west and Cubitt Town to the east. (Cubitt Town, named after William Cubitt, the Lord Mayor of London between 1860 and 1862, was a centre for pottery, brick and cement production.)

 

Crossharbour

The station is on the rather uninspiring East Ferry Road, which is lined with tower blocks and offices. However, just a few minutes walk to the west toward the Millwall Docks, the area looks like it's been redeveloped - and fairly recently. There's a semi-pedestrianized shopping parade called Pepper Street, and at the end of this are the docks themselves - Millwall Inner Dock to the north, and Millwall Outer Dock to the south.

Millwall Inner Dock

Millwall Outer Dock

 

As well as providing mooring for several Dutch Barges, there's a pleasant walk around the perimeter and there's even a yachting club, which is currently keeping the local school-children occupied.

 

Yachting Club



Not sure you've quite got the hang of this...



 

Three Cranes

There are signs of the docks' former working life as it's still dominated by the cranes that used to offload the boats that arrived here from around the world, but the general feel is that of the rest of the Docklands Development - modern, clean and vibrant.

 

I'm intrigued by a couple of signposts I see, as I walk around the Outer Dock, pointing me to 'The Newspaper Education Trust'. I'd love to know what form this education takes, and who the pupils are. Is it a kind of 'Hogwarts' for journalists, where they can take classes in phone hacking in the morning and learn how to make bad puns in the afternoon?

 

Since I never actually find it I allow my imagination free reign, and it's only later, at home, that I discover that it was (until it closed down in 2009) a charity that gave children the opportunity to edit their own front page for the day. It operated for 15 years before the credit crunch got the better of it and forced it to close down.

 

I finish my stroll alongside the docks, and make my way back to the station.

 

***

I head back to Bank and then north to Crouch Hill via a convoluted route involving the Northern Line, Victoria Line, a bus, and my own two feet.

Crouch Hill

In contrast to the fresh-faced exuberance of Crossharbour, Crouch Hill seems rather tired and dilapidated. There's really not much to see or do here, unless you're in need of second-hand furniture, shellac-ed nails, or any of the various cuisines catered for by the numerous take-aways.

I give it a chance to surprise me, by walking up and down for ten minutes or so in search of anything unusual or noteworthy, but sadly it fails to provide.

Back on the road then, or rather the rails, to my next station - Croxley.

*** 

There's a bit of a delay, however, as in their wisdom Transport For London have a rather imaginative approach to time-tabling on the Metropolitan Line.

Croxley is the penultimate station on the Watford Branch of the line - the same line that heads out to places like Uxbridge, Amersham, and Chesham - and the Tube Map shows the Line as being continuous to all stations from Aldgate. A simple matter then, it would seem, to head down to King's Cross from Finsbury Park and then change to the Metropolitan Line there.

Well, yes, except that - for some reason - there are no trains from King's Cross to Watford between 11am and 4pm Monday to Friday. They'll happily provide trains to all the other destinations - oh yes - but Watford must have annoyed them somehow, so they're teaching it a lesson.

And of course, there's no obvious information announcing this fact to the unsuspecting traveller, who wastes a good half an hour waiting for a train that isn't coming...

Tsk! Those wily old tricksters at TFL, eh?

Eventually however (having finally worked out that I need to get to Baker Street to catch the train to Croxley) I'm on my way out of town to Hertfordshire, and enjoying the countryside views as I leave the Metropolis and head to Metroland.

***
Croxley Station is in Croxley Green - which I'm expecting to be another of the pretty little Market Towns that proliferate in this neck of the woods.

Croxley

The station certainly has that 'old-world' feel about it I've come to recognise, especially given the scarcity of trains. It sits on the main Watford Road running through Croxley Green, which has a smattering of shops opposite the station, but is otherwise mainly residential.

I wander for a few moments in either direction, in order to get my bearings and in the hope of finding the main shopping street, but all I can see is houses. Google Maps isn't much help, as it shows very few shops of any kind, and only a couple of pubs. I make a choice, and head west along the Watford Road, but there's nothing until I reach 'The Green' (presumably the same Green the area is named after) and a pub called 'The Artichoke' - where I decide to stop for lunch.

It's a nice place, and the food is good, and moreover I discover the reason for the local retail-vacuum. It appears that Croxley Green is not, in fact, a town or village as I had supposed, but is instead a suburb of Rickmansworth - which itself is not a huge place. The locals all head into 'Ricky' (as the landlady of The Artichoke' calls it) for their shopping, and indeed, anything else approaching fun and excitement.

That's not to say it isn't a pleasant place to walk - The Green is a wide expanse of grass bordering what is now quite a main road, and my walk back to the station takes me along 'New Road' (although most of the houses have dates on them from the 19th Century) where one or two shops - a Co-op and a butcher's - have managed to cling on to life.

It's been another day of stations spread far and wide, with lengthy journeys between them - not always with much reward awaiting me on my arrival. Still - every station I visit brings within sight of the finishing line of the 'Cs', and with any luck I should finish this section on my next trip out.

Until then, I'm homeward bound once again, and looking forward to putting my feet up.

'Trains And Boats And Planes'

Day 24

 

Colliers Wood - Covent Garden

 

Ok, so the title of today's post is ever so slightly misleading. Last week, if you recall, I did see a reasonably large collection of planes, and at the second of today's stations there's a museum dedicated to all things London Transport, which satisfies the 'trains' requirement (as well as a few buses and cabs).

Boats, though, have yet to make an appearance. Still, we're only on the letter 'C', so plenty of time yet!

On the other hand, today is another two-station day, which isn't going to get me through the alphabet very quickly. The reason for the limited number is not, for once, because they're inconveniently far apart, but simply the fact that the second of the two, Covent Garden, has such a lot to see that I have a feeling I'll be spending a fair old time there.

***
First up today though, almost at the bottom of the Northern Line, is Colliers Wood - and a style of architecture that's become very familiar by now...

Colliers Wood

Charles Holden (for 'twas he) has for once been given some recognition for his designs (other than me banging on about him ad nauseam in this blog...). Across the road from the station is a pub which bears his name. I don't go into 'The Charles Holden', since it's a tad early for a snifter, but from the outside it looks a reasonable place.



The Charles Holden - recognition at last!

I can't find anything to tell me why Colliers Wood in particular should choose to celebrate the Tube Station maestro, but I'm glad all the same to discover I'm not the only person in London to have heard of him...

Alongside the pub is a short street leading to a park called Wandle Park.

I say 'park', although the bits I see of it seem to have been left to grow so out of control that there's very little open space to enjoy. There's a children's playground in one corner, and according to Google Maps there's a pond in the middle but even though I do cross a couple of bridges, any water that might flow beneath them is obscured by waist-high shrubs and bushes.

Not the Eiffel Tower

The park is also bisected by electricity cables running from pylon to pylon, and indeed, one of these pylons stands like an industrial Eiffel Tower within the park-grounds, very near the entrance. Barbed wire a short way up will, hopefully, deter the majority of people from climbing it, but for the more reckless locals the temptation must be hard to resist.




I leave the park across another bridge, and this time I can actually see some water beneath it, as this is the River Wandle.

It runs along the western side of the park and I notice that it actually flows underneath what looks like a residential building. I find a plaque on the side of the building informing me that it used to be a mill, which explains the need for running water, though I don't know if I'd want to live in the property myself, given the recent flooding the country's suffered.


The old mill

Trouble at t'mill?

I walk back to the main road, but a fairly standard looking retail park is the only other 'attraction' I can see here, so I think it's time to move on to Covent Garden - where I hope there'll be a little more to see and do...

***
The area covered by the name Covent Garden, like many of London's famous locales, is actually a much wider one than many people think. In Covent Garden's case, most people assume that it simply refers to the main square (what is now known as the Piazza) which was the site of the old Fruit and Veg market. In fact Covent Garden's boundaries stretch west to east from St Martin's Lane to Drury Lane, and both north and south of the road called Long Acre.

 

The station is on the Piccadilly Line, (although I don't arrive by tube on this occasion, having stopped off briefly for lunch with Mrs Nowhere Man, and caught the bus from there) and is only 0.16 miles from the next station along - Leicester Square - which I'm reliably informed is the shortest distance between two stations on the whole Underground.

As I approach it, it gives me another little tingle of recognition as I notice (for what seems like the first time although I must have seen them hundreds of times before) the red tiles beloved of the other architect I've come to know over the course of this journey - Leslie Green.


Covent Garden Station

If nothing else, this journey has meant that I'll never look at the outside of a tube station again, without checking for glazed red tiles or glass-windowed drum-shaped entrances.

The name Covent Garden, not altogether surprisingly, is actually a corruption of 'Convent' Garden, and the area originally belonged to the monks of Westminster Abbey, until the Dissolution. Later, the famous fruit and veg market was established in 1661, and this, together with a thriving Red-Light district, secured the area's popularity for the next three-hundred years.

Though the market and (at least as far as one can tell) the persons of ill-repute have now moved elsewhere, the Piazza that remains is hugely popular with tourists - rightly so, since it's a pleasant, lively, buzzing place to wander round or take a breather in one of the various eateries (assuming you're willing to take out a second mortgage to pay for your meal.)

I do a quick circular tour, beginning at the station on Long Acre (named after a long plot of land that stood outside the convent walls) and heading east to Bow Street.

Walking down Bow Street I pass the Bow Street Magistrate's Court on my left. Once a police station, it housed (among others) Oscar Wilde for a brief spell before his trial at the Old Bailey. Bow Street is, of course, the home of the 'Bow Street Runners' - the fore-runners (if you'll forgive the pun) of the police force.

A division of modern day Bow-Street Runners (cunningly disguised
as telephone boxes), stealthily approach a suspect...

They were established by the novelist Henry Fielding who, when he wasn't busy writing Tom Jones, was also a magistrate, and who lived on this street at number 4.

I continue down Bow Street. past the Royal Opera House (or its latest incarnation - having twice been burnt down) on my right, and London's oldest theatre, the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, on my left. The theatre too has been rebuilt a number of times following various fires and the current building is the fourth to stand here.


Royal Opera House

Then I turn right onto Russell Street - where, in the days of Coffee Houses (as opposed to Starbucks) the literati of the day, Alexander Pope, Jonathan Swift, Henry Fielding, David Garrick, William Congreve, John Dryden, Samuel Pepys and many others, would gather and enjoy (as Pepys would have it) 'very witty and pleasant discourse'.

Russell Street opens directly into the Piazza, which as always is full of tourists. I've decided that I really can't visit Covent Garden on a journey like this, without having a look at the London Transport Museum - somewhere I've not been before.

It sits in the south-east corner of the Piazza in what used to be a flower market, and charts the history of London's transport (not just tube trains, but buses, cabs and trams) from the year 1800 onwards. I know it starts in 1800 because rather charmingly, the lift that takes me to the top floor (where the exhibition starts) has a 'time-machine' style backwards-counting display that whizzes back from 2014 to 1800 in the few seconds it takes to reach level 2.

The Time Machine

There are steam-train carriages and omnibuses from the 19th Century and shiny red Routemaster buses from the present day. It's a great place to bring the kids as many of the exhibits are 'climb-on-able' and for me, it's nice to have some of the things I've already learnt about the tube network brought to life, so to speak.

As I did with the RAF museum last week, I think I should just let the photos I took do the talking for me. So - have fun, and see you on the other side...

An Omnibus - which in Latin means 'for all' - although
by the size of it 'for half a dozen' would be nearer the mark...

Another Omnibus

Rather a different tube map...

Steam on the Underground

The tube described as 'home like'? -
where did these people live?!?



Oh how easy this challenge would have been back then...

***
Oh, hello again! Good to see you!

Sorry - be with you in a moment, I'm just finishing my packed lunch...

***
I head out of the museum, back into the Piazza and hear the familiar sounds of a street performer trying to enthuse a crowd of bemused Italian and French tourists. I stop and watch for a few moments, but it's a kids' show, so I'm afraid I soon lose interest.

The Light In The Piazza

Still, I've enjoyed coming back here - despite its familiarity. I know there's much more to the area than I've seen today, and indeed, than I've seen on all my previous visits, but it's the sort of place you can keep re-discovering - as long as you don't fall into the trap of just doing the same bits of it over and over again.

And every so often, it's nice to forget you live in London, and pretend to be a 'tourist' for a few hours - and what better place to do that than here...