Day 38
Golders Green - Goldhawk Road - Goodge Street - Gospel Oak
After days of gloomy grey skies, the sun is out in force today, so I take the opportunity to get some Wombling done in decent weather.
There'll be a bit of a fanfare too later on today (but more of that in a while) so the sunshine seems somehow appropriate.
My first stop is Golders Green, which is on the Edgware branch of the Northern Line. It's also the first station in daylight as you emerge from the tunnels north of Hampstead, so again, it's nice that the sun is giving me a warm welcome to my first stop.
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| Golders Green |
The station is on one corner of a busy crossroads in what looks to be a particularly lively part of town. There are plenty of shops, cafés and other eateries and (today at least) plenty of people bustling between them sampling their wares.
It's fairly common knowledge that this area is home to a sizeable Jewish community, whose parents and grandparents originally came here from Europe following Hitler's rise to power in the 1930s. There is naturally therefore a preponderance of men wearing yarmulkes (which is the Yiddish word for skullcaps - the Hebrew word being kippah) and Jewish products available in the local supermarkets.
What's more surprising is that there seems to be a higher than usual concentration of Japanese businesses - shops, restaurants, take-aways and so on - dotted around the area. Is there an equally populous but somehow less widely-known Japanese community here too? Or does the Jewish community go for Japanese food and culture in a big way?
As well as the Jewish (and presumably the Japanese) faith, Golders Green is also home to one type of religious practitioner I'm afraid I have very little time for.
Admittedly, since I'm not at all religious myself, I have very little time for any faith - but there are some which - it seems to me - are more insidious than others.
Sitting right next door to the tube station, and occupying the former Golders Green Hippodrome building (which was, until 2003, the home of the BBC concert orchestra) is the 'El Shaddai International Christian Centre'.
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| El Shaddai International Christian Centre |
The centre is run by an evangelist by the name of Ramson Mumba, who preaches a doctrine known as (wait for it) 'Prosperity Theology'.
Stories of American TV evangelists asking for huge 'donations' in return for a quick 'Praise da Laawwd!!' are nothing new, but I had no idea that it was a recognised doctrine, or indeed that it had spread to this country.
The basic premise is this: Since God apparently wants you to spend a long and happy life doing good works, it stands to reason he would want to provide you with the means of doing so. Clearly (the argument goes) you can't devote your life to others if you live in abject poverty yourself. So in essence, God wants you to be very, very rich (just ignore all that nonsense about camels and eyes of needles for the moment). Now, if you happen to be one of the many people who doesn't have a vast fortune just knocking about the place, what on earth are you supposed to do? How do you get rich enough to do all that good work God wants you to do? Well, don't worry - the 'church' has the answer. Another theory of the 'Prosperity Gospel' is that if you 'plant a seed', it will grow. Or in other words - if you give some money today, you will get back lots more money later ('sevenfold' is the return often bandied about). And of course the church wants to make the task of 'giving' very easy for you, by providing you with a handy recipient for your largesse. So, if for example you were to make a sufficiently hefty donation (to, say, your local evangelist's bank account) God would gratefully reward your generosity at some (alas unspecified) future date, with a nice fat wad of cash.
Sounds like a great system doesn't it.
Hmmm. It's like some heavenly National Lottery - only with rather less chance of winning.
And like the National Lottery, the people who spend the most are the ones who can probably afford it least. Meanwhile the church rakes in the cash - allowing them to blow £5,000,000 on buying the Golders Green Hippodrome, rather than (just for instance) feeding a few starving Africans, fighting the odd life-threatening disease, or housing a homeless person or two.
I'm afraid that leaves a rather nasty taste in my mouth.
Prosperity theology started - where else - in the USA and the leader of this particular church in London, Ramson Mumba, is very closely associated with his 'spiritual mentor', the American preacher Creflo Dollar (yes, that is what he calls himself - never let it be said the Americans avoid being blatant).
In fact Mumba now lives in Houston with his second wife Estrella (he reportedly had an affair with his PA and later divorced his first wife Linda, with whom he started the church, before finally marrying a former South American 'actress' - one or two more Bible teachings he seems to have been able conveniently to ignore.)
Not bad for a Bradford lad. At least one person is getting the prosperity end of the deal...
***
Deciding to get as far away from this sort of insidious nonsense as possible, I move on to my next station - Goldhawk Road.
And now it's fanfare time!
It just so happens that Goldhawk Road is station number 123 on my list - which is not only a pleasingly neat number in itself, but is also exactly ONE-THIRD of the way through the total number of stations. Well, alright - for the pedants among you (myself included) - I should point out that there are actually 368 stations on the map, not 369 - so it's not 'exactly' one-third. But I can't really visit 122.66666666666 stations, so it'll have to do.
But hey - that's an achievement, eh? Tra-lal-la! Yeay me!
A pity it's such a dump.
We're in the middle of Shepherds Bush here - with its eclectic and multicultural collection of businesses. Ethnic supermarkets, exotic take-aways and textile shops line the road either side of the station, and to the north is Shepherds Bush Market, so market stalls full of food and bric-a-brac abound. I hope to visit the Market later on, since it has its own dedicated Tube Station - but it looks like I'll have to be quick about it, as there is a regeneration plan in the offing which may mean the whole thing is ripped down and turned into luxury flats.
The area's one real claim to fame, such as it is, is that in 1657 a resident of the road - Miles Sindercombe - attempted (and failed) to assassinate Oliver Cromwell. He was one of several conspirators, and lived in various locations under various pseudonyms, so the association is hardly a definitive one. I suspect that very few of the current inhabitants would have a clue who he was.
To the east of the station is Shepherds Bush Green, but like the market, I'll be leaving the exploration of that area to when I visit Shepherd Bush's other stations.
After a brief stop for lunch then, I head off back into town to Goodge Street.
***
Goodge Street is named after John Goodge - a carpenter in the 18th Century who owned land around the area (then known as Crab Tree Field) and whose sons named the street in his honour.
The station was used as a Deep Level Shelter during WWII - and was used by Eisenhower's Allied Expeditionary Force as a signalling installation.
The wider area is called Fitzrovia, after the Fitzroy Tavern, which was in turn named after Charles Fitzroy, 1st Baron Southampton - he was a soldier, MP and courtier in the reign of George III and was at one time one of a dozen or so 'Grooms Of The Bedchamber' - in charge of helping the king put his trousers on the right way round.
Fitzrovia has many tube stations in it, so I concentrate on the area immediately around Goodge Street.
Moving away from Tottenham Court Road, and its electronic shops, onto Charlotte Street, I'm greeted by what is probably this area's most famous, and certainly most striking, landmark - the BT Tower.
Formerly the Post Office Tower, it was built in the 1960s to house the aerials which broadcast telephone, television and radar signals.
It stands a total of 627 feet high, and had a rotating restaurant at the top, which was the site of an IRA bomb attack in 1971. The tower was closed to the public in the early 1980s for security reasons, but is still in use as a communications centre.
Looking at it from the ground, the top of the tower seems to be perched rather precariously on the floors below, but I suppose, since it has stood for almost exactly 50 years, it should be safe enough.
Round the back of Goodge Street station, on Scala Street, is Pollock's Toy Museum, which houses a collection of toys and games including, marbles, toy theatres, teddy bears (they have the world's oldest) and doll's houses. The museum is housed in a dingy looking Georgian house (or rather two houses knocked into one) and looks very dry and dusty (literally as well as metaphorically). I recall the huge V&A toy museum I went to in Bethnal Green - which was free to enter - and I can't help but feel the £6 adult entry fee for this place is pushing it a bit. It's certainly enough to make me turn away without going inside.
***
And so it's on to the final stop of the day.
Gospel Oak station, on the Overground Line, is on the very empty-feeling Gordon House Road. There is a pub and a few shops, but the whole place seems very quiet - despite it being half-term week, when you'd expect kids to be up to no good on street corners and in playgrounds and so on.
The area got its name from - not surprisingly - an oak tree that was once the site of impromptu Gospel readings in the 18th Century. John Wesley - the founder of Methodism - may well have preached here.
It sits at the very southern tip of Hampstead Heath and has some pleasant residential streets made up of Victorian cottages in an area known as Oak Village. The former Python, and travelogue writer extraordinaire, Michael Palin lives here - having bought one house in the 1960s and gradually acquiring and knocking through into the neighbouring houses over the subsequent decades.
But there's no sign of him, nor indeed any other resident, as I wander the quiet streets.
I visit Lismore Circus - a small park area, where Mr Palin apparently planted a replacement oak which sadly didn't survive - but even here there's no-one to be seen.
So, a little disappointed with the place, I leave Gospel Oak, and walk to Chalk Farm in order to catch the tube back into town. Along the way I do, finally, encounter one other person coming in the opposite direction. He's wearing sunglasses and is wrapped up warm against the winter chill, but looking twice at what I can see of the vaguely recognisable face I realise it is the actor Dennis Lawson - uncle of Ewan McGregor and familiar to all Star Wars fans as the X-Wing pilot Wedge Antilles.
I won't bore non Star Wars fans by going on about it (did you know he is the only character to survive both of the attacks on the two separate Death Stars?) but I will admit to a small frisson of geekish pleasure at the encounter.
Better than hokey religions any day of the week...
Stories of American TV evangelists asking for huge 'donations' in return for a quick 'Praise da Laawwd!!' are nothing new, but I had no idea that it was a recognised doctrine, or indeed that it had spread to this country.
The basic premise is this: Since God apparently wants you to spend a long and happy life doing good works, it stands to reason he would want to provide you with the means of doing so. Clearly (the argument goes) you can't devote your life to others if you live in abject poverty yourself. So in essence, God wants you to be very, very rich (just ignore all that nonsense about camels and eyes of needles for the moment). Now, if you happen to be one of the many people who doesn't have a vast fortune just knocking about the place, what on earth are you supposed to do? How do you get rich enough to do all that good work God wants you to do? Well, don't worry - the 'church' has the answer. Another theory of the 'Prosperity Gospel' is that if you 'plant a seed', it will grow. Or in other words - if you give some money today, you will get back lots more money later ('sevenfold' is the return often bandied about). And of course the church wants to make the task of 'giving' very easy for you, by providing you with a handy recipient for your largesse. So, if for example you were to make a sufficiently hefty donation (to, say, your local evangelist's bank account) God would gratefully reward your generosity at some (alas unspecified) future date, with a nice fat wad of cash.
Sounds like a great system doesn't it.
Hmmm. It's like some heavenly National Lottery - only with rather less chance of winning.
And like the National Lottery, the people who spend the most are the ones who can probably afford it least. Meanwhile the church rakes in the cash - allowing them to blow £5,000,000 on buying the Golders Green Hippodrome, rather than (just for instance) feeding a few starving Africans, fighting the odd life-threatening disease, or housing a homeless person or two.
I'm afraid that leaves a rather nasty taste in my mouth.
Prosperity theology started - where else - in the USA and the leader of this particular church in London, Ramson Mumba, is very closely associated with his 'spiritual mentor', the American preacher Creflo Dollar (yes, that is what he calls himself - never let it be said the Americans avoid being blatant).
In fact Mumba now lives in Houston with his second wife Estrella (he reportedly had an affair with his PA and later divorced his first wife Linda, with whom he started the church, before finally marrying a former South American 'actress' - one or two more Bible teachings he seems to have been able conveniently to ignore.)
Not bad for a Bradford lad. At least one person is getting the prosperity end of the deal...
***
Deciding to get as far away from this sort of insidious nonsense as possible, I move on to my next station - Goldhawk Road.
 |
| Goldhawk Road Break out the party poppers and champagne!!! |
It just so happens that Goldhawk Road is station number 123 on my list - which is not only a pleasingly neat number in itself, but is also exactly ONE-THIRD of the way through the total number of stations. Well, alright - for the pedants among you (myself included) - I should point out that there are actually 368 stations on the map, not 369 - so it's not 'exactly' one-third. But I can't really visit 122.66666666666 stations, so it'll have to do.
But hey - that's an achievement, eh? Tra-lal-la! Yeay me!
A pity it's such a dump.
We're in the middle of Shepherds Bush here - with its eclectic and multicultural collection of businesses. Ethnic supermarkets, exotic take-aways and textile shops line the road either side of the station, and to the north is Shepherds Bush Market, so market stalls full of food and bric-a-brac abound. I hope to visit the Market later on, since it has its own dedicated Tube Station - but it looks like I'll have to be quick about it, as there is a regeneration plan in the offing which may mean the whole thing is ripped down and turned into luxury flats.
The area's one real claim to fame, such as it is, is that in 1657 a resident of the road - Miles Sindercombe - attempted (and failed) to assassinate Oliver Cromwell. He was one of several conspirators, and lived in various locations under various pseudonyms, so the association is hardly a definitive one. I suspect that very few of the current inhabitants would have a clue who he was.
To the east of the station is Shepherds Bush Green, but like the market, I'll be leaving the exploration of that area to when I visit Shepherd Bush's other stations.
After a brief stop for lunch then, I head off back into town to Goodge Street.
***
Goodge Street is named after John Goodge - a carpenter in the 18th Century who owned land around the area (then known as Crab Tree Field) and whose sons named the street in his honour.
 |
| Goodge Street |
The station was used as a Deep Level Shelter during WWII - and was used by Eisenhower's Allied Expeditionary Force as a signalling installation.
The wider area is called Fitzrovia, after the Fitzroy Tavern, which was in turn named after Charles Fitzroy, 1st Baron Southampton - he was a soldier, MP and courtier in the reign of George III and was at one time one of a dozen or so 'Grooms Of The Bedchamber' - in charge of helping the king put his trousers on the right way round.
Fitzrovia has many tube stations in it, so I concentrate on the area immediately around Goodge Street.
Moving away from Tottenham Court Road, and its electronic shops, onto Charlotte Street, I'm greeted by what is probably this area's most famous, and certainly most striking, landmark - the BT Tower.
 |
| BT Tower |
It stands a total of 627 feet high, and had a rotating restaurant at the top, which was the site of an IRA bomb attack in 1971. The tower was closed to the public in the early 1980s for security reasons, but is still in use as a communications centre.
 |
| Top of the tower |
Round the back of Goodge Street station, on Scala Street, is Pollock's Toy Museum, which houses a collection of toys and games including, marbles, toy theatres, teddy bears (they have the world's oldest) and doll's houses. The museum is housed in a dingy looking Georgian house (or rather two houses knocked into one) and looks very dry and dusty (literally as well as metaphorically). I recall the huge V&A toy museum I went to in Bethnal Green - which was free to enter - and I can't help but feel the £6 adult entry fee for this place is pushing it a bit. It's certainly enough to make me turn away without going inside.
***
And so it's on to the final stop of the day.
 |
| Gospel Oak |
The area got its name from - not surprisingly - an oak tree that was once the site of impromptu Gospel readings in the 18th Century. John Wesley - the founder of Methodism - may well have preached here.
It sits at the very southern tip of Hampstead Heath and has some pleasant residential streets made up of Victorian cottages in an area known as Oak Village. The former Python, and travelogue writer extraordinaire, Michael Palin lives here - having bought one house in the 1960s and gradually acquiring and knocking through into the neighbouring houses over the subsequent decades.
But there's no sign of him, nor indeed any other resident, as I wander the quiet streets.
I visit Lismore Circus - a small park area, where Mr Palin apparently planted a replacement oak which sadly didn't survive - but even here there's no-one to be seen.
So, a little disappointed with the place, I leave Gospel Oak, and walk to Chalk Farm in order to catch the tube back into town. Along the way I do, finally, encounter one other person coming in the opposite direction. He's wearing sunglasses and is wrapped up warm against the winter chill, but looking twice at what I can see of the vaguely recognisable face I realise it is the actor Dennis Lawson - uncle of Ewan McGregor and familiar to all Star Wars fans as the X-Wing pilot Wedge Antilles.
I won't bore non Star Wars fans by going on about it (did you know he is the only character to survive both of the attacks on the two separate Death Stars?) but I will admit to a small frisson of geekish pleasure at the encounter.
Better than hokey religions any day of the week...
