VOICES IN THE PARK by Anthony Browne a review.

I recently read a review about a book of essays analysing, MAUS, a graphic novel by American cartoonist Art Spiegelman. The opening essay is by Philip Pullman. Other writers provided their analysis too. It made me think, what illustrated stories I might want to write about. Anthony Browne is a writer I have always found interesting. So here is my take on his book, VOICES. 

 When I was a teacher, I often had a class reading book, usually chosen by the children themselves, that I would read at the end of the day, just a chapter at a time. It helped the children and me wind down and gave us something to think about question away from our failures, intrigues and successes, of the day. Reading the book just one chapter at a time also enabled the children and me to think about the issues, themes and characters in the story at a leisurely pace. Sometimes the book might be a novel such as a Harry Potter and sometimes it was a picture book, such as VOICES by Anthony Browne. The first thing we would do is read the title and look at the picture on the cover. What did the title and the picture tell us about the story we were about to read? The title, “VOICES” brings to mind a number of thoughts. Are these voices overheard by a person in the park? Are they voices somebody might be hearing in their mind? Differing voices have different viewpoints. This is something that we all need to be aware, that situations, can be seen from different angles, different viewpoints and have different effects on different people. We have our viewpoint and other people have theirs and we must learn to empathise. 

 The picture on the front of VOICES shows a scene set in a park. Parks are egalitarian places. People from different levels of society; employment, education, and work, see each other, pass by and occasionally say hello. An avenue of trees leads to two small characters facing each other. The boy offers the girl a flower. Behind them, at odd crazy slightly unnerving angles, grow neat green conical bushes. A little unsettling. There is something church like in this scene.The tree trunks are like the columns lining the aisle of an ancient church The canopy of leaves pressing down on the bright green grass and the young couple is somewhat oppressive. It presses down heavily. It is bright red with flashes of yellow at the top part and dark and gloomy at the base of the leaf canopy. Two dogs, also in the distance to the right of the picture run and cavort. The dogs appear carefree and abandoned compared to the reticent and tentative, maybe tender, encounter between the little boy and the little girl. Ominous forebodings or happy encounters? What is to come? 

 The characters are portrayed as gorillas. This is something Anthony Browne has used in other books. It removes the characters from looking like human beings, however, the characters are hyper human, almost more than human. At first you might think, is this a racial slur, but it is not. The characters are you and me or any person from various walks of life. Anthony Browne has been asked about his portrayal of some of his characters as gorillas. His reply has always been, “I like gorillas.” Gorillas have obviously had a deep emotional impact on him. We can wonder. His characters portrayed as ordinary humans are often monstrous.

 Four different voices of four characters appear in the story: The first voice is that of a mother with a son called Charles and a pedigree Labrador. They emerge from a large, elegant mansion with manicured lawns on their way to the park. The type of script used to record her voice is a bold Baskerville script. It looks refined. The second voice, the father of the girl, wears overalls and a workman’s jacket. He is unemployed and needs to get out of the house. The four walls must be making him feel crazy. He has a depressed look on his face as he sits in an armchair contemplating. The script used to portray the father is bold and simple. The third voice is that of the little boy, his voice printed in a much lighter and subdued version of his officious mothers script.He leads a lonely, controlled life it seems. His mother is overprotective, controlling and stuffy. The fourth voice is the little girl. She seems to be the most liberated of the four voices, adventurous, open to meeting new people, the most empathetic of the four characters. Her script is uneven, bold, creative, invented. The portraits of the characters, the script used to portray their individual voices and above all their words reveal their characters. We know them. We have all met people like that. Children reading this will empathise with the characters. They will know them as much as any adult reading this story. 

 The four characters portray the social layers of society, attitudes and the effects those layers have on the individual. 

The mother, is formal and class ridden in the little things as well as the big things. Her dog is not any dog it’s a ,”pedigree, Labrador”, called Victoria. The son, and she formally calls him her son, is Charles. The regal connections are obvious.When they reach the park another dog is merely “some scruffy mongrel.” Words such as “bothered,” and ,”horrible,”reveal her attitudes. She orders Charles, “ Sit,” I said to Charles.”Here.” No love, no warmth just cold command. The picture by Anthony Browne that reveals as much if not more than the words, shows Victoria chasing the mongrel dog in the distance. The two dogs look carefree . The mother and Charles, the obedient son sit ,on the park bench, slightly apart looking in opposite directions. The mother with an angry, expression Charles, forlorn.

The girls father, makes an appearance sitting on the opposite end to the park bench to the mother. The mother is alarmed. Charles has disappeared. A close up of the mother shows panic. She calls Charles name. She refers to the “frightful types,” you get in the park. She sees Charles ,”talking to a very rough-looking child.” ”Charles, come here. At once!””And come here please, Victoria.” This whole scene feels constipated. It is painful for the mother and it is certainly painful for her son. She attempts to control the situation but her panic shows her helplessness. Her rigid views do not sit comfortably with her, and her son. The dogs are just dogs. They don’t care about class, pedigree and superiority. It means nothing to the dogs and you feel acutely it shouldn’t matter to the human characters in the story either. 

The second voice, the father of Smudge, needs to get out of the house. You can sense his frustration, boredom, desperation and depression at being unemployed. Unlike the mother, he senses the vigour , and energy his dog has and wishes he felt like that He spends time looking for a job in the newspaper. He needs some hope even if things are hopeless. His daughter Smudge cheers him up with her chatter. The picture of them on their way home expresses the joy and fun he at least gets from his daughter and his dog. The mother could derive no joy at all form her son and her dog. Which of them is better off? 

 The two other voices are Charles and Smudge. Charles is bored at home.The park visit is an epiphany for him. He sees the mongrel dog is friendly with his pedigree dog. He so wishes he could have a good time too. Then he meets Smudge and he plays with her on the slide and the climbing frame. He is amazed at the feeling of fun and joy he feels and thought Smudge was, brilliant. We  feel pleased Charles has had this experience. You get the sense he now knows what fun , joy and friendship are. A chink of light in his depressing dark life. He hopes “Smudge will be there next tme.” 

 Smudge is confident and abandoned. She is open to meeting Charles and just being friendly. Charles responds by giving Smudge a flower. It is almost romantic. Smudge brings joy to Charles and also to her own father. Her dog, Albert, has an abandoned free spirit too,”he went straight up to this lovely dog and sniffed its bum (he always does that).” Smudge is a catalyst of hope for all she encounters it seems. She notices the sadness in Charles. She can empathise. 

 If you were to read this with a class of children, what might you discuss? What would their reaction and thoughts be? Have they ever been in a situation or know people like these? Have they encountered people who are aloof? Why would somebody be like that? Have they experienced loneliness, lack of confidence?. What does this story tell us about dealing with those feelings and situations? Do they know about unemployment, being wealthy, finding themselves in awkward social situations? Have they experienced feelings of freedom? What makes them joyous? Some of those answers children might want to keep to themselves. What is important is that they can learn to empathise with those situations and feelings themselves. 

BIOGRAPHY: Anthony Browne is an illustrator and writer of children’s books. His books delve into the psychological, social interactions and relationships of children. They are sometimes dark, sinister stories. Empathy is an overriding theme. Great children’s literature helps children deal with deep issues imaginatively. He was born on the 11th September 1946 near Sheffield in the north of England. His mother and father, Jack and Doris, managed a pub called the Red Lion at Hellfire Corner. He did graphic design at Leeds College of Art graduating in 1967. He became a medical illustrator at Manchester Royal Infirmary. Later he designed cards for Gordon Fraser, a company who produce cards for all occasions. After a few years of doing that for a living he began illustrating and writing his own books. Through The Magic Mirror, came out in 1976. He won The Kate Greenaway prize for children’s literature in 1992 for his book ZOO. In 2001 he became a writer and illustrator at Tate Britain helping develop children’s art. In 2009 he became the 6th Children’s Laureate. Previous Laureates include Quentin Blake, Michael Rosen, Michael Morpurgo, Jaqueline Wilson and Anne Fine. The present laureate is Cressida Cowell famous for, How To Train Your Dragon. 

 Anthony Browne has written fifty books for children. The most famous ones are VOICES, ZOO, WILLY THE WIMP, THE TUNNEL and INTO THE FOREST. I have probably missed your favourite ones in this short list. They are all worth engaging with. They provide food for thought for both adults and children.

POEM OF THE WEEK : Lightning Strike by John Clegg

 

Within the culture section of the Guardian there is a poem of the week published with a commentary and analysis. This poem, The Lightning Tree by John Clegg was published in The Guardian on the 9th January and reviewed by  Carol Rumen. 

 

Lightning Strikes School Tree

No-one saw it but me and I had my eyes shut:

I’d given the class their Thomas Hardy worksheets,

the bell had gone off, hinging our double period,

everybody was scraping their chairs about,

there was an agreed low level of laugh and chat

and doubtless some thought was authentically

bent to the poem, some to the fizzy striplight,

some to the weight of the next forty minutes and some

to the far field out of the window

where – as I say – with my eyes shut

I saw not the flash but the mid-distance lime tree

pulled flat like the loop in a seam

at the fact of a needle: and then when I blinked

I could still see the needle, and I had my eyes shut.

I read the poem. So many issues about teaching and learning immediately came to mind. 

There are lots of things about teachers, teaching, being a learner or pupil and the whole process of learning that just leaps out from this poem. A tree, lightning striking, teaching and learning have so many close interconnections.

The main symbol is a tree. It grows and develops slowly giving out branches, new shoots, buds and fresh leaves in the Spring. It is a habitat and an ecosystem to a multitude of  life and provides sustenance to all living things, including us. A  classroom is the setting of this poem. A classroom where over a year, the personal development and growth of the minds and the development of the pupils tis supposed to take place. A place to nurture lives, just like a tree.

What the teacher intends for the lesson is obviously not happening. The forty minutes are a waste of time. A study of a Thomas Hardy’s poem or rather filling in a work sheet, a tick box exercise, after presumably having read the poem.  Hardy was a rural writer of novels and poems imbued in nature. He would have appreciated the event of a tree being struck by lightning, the visceral moment. He too, like the teacher and students in this poem would have been affected to the core of his being. These pupils in this classroom are not that interested in Hardys poem, presented the way it is being presented, an object, a set of thoughts given to them , apparently,without any context. The teacher has already set the tone of the class, scraping chairs, low laughter and chat are permitted.  That agreement does not include the learning process. Some will focus on the strip lighting flickering on the ceiling, some on the long forty minutes of time, some the lightning struck lime tree falling to the ground. Some may give a thought to Hardys poem but I get a sense that that is a far off lost aim in this lesson.

For the teacher the lightning strike is what truly really affects them and the class. Even with their eyes shut the image of the strike has struck home, through the  retina  along the optic nerve, deep into the  brain. Something they will remember all their lives.

Inspiration can be just like that, a lightning strike that affects a teacher or pupil deeply and everlastingly and change them in some profound way. However being a human or being a tree, change is usually slow and may have its stops, starts and reversals. The illumination of a lightning strike either on a tree or in  personal development happens seldom. We have to grow into change, slowly. I remember reading with my own children when they were at a very young age. We sat cuddled up to each other when they were,  one year of age. Comfort, the pleasure of looking at pictures, talking, listening to the sounds of words I read to them. Often the sounds of the repetition of words and phrases was enjoyable. They have all, in their adulthood, become lovers of reading books. Something about reading to young children is the start of a journey, a long process, not a sudden ,"lightening strike,"of inspiration and change.Providing a pleasurable learning experience is the best we can aim for. The lightning strike might happen once in a lifetime.

 Perhaps the teacher in the poem needs to start a conversation with his or her students about what they themselves are interested in and what has inspired them and  from that discussion, design their  lessons around that approach. Make the lesson fit the pupil and not the other way round.

Maria Montessori had a similar idea about education. She built her theory through her observations on the principles of individual growth and development.  She believed in creating an atmosphere of freedom, interaction with the environment and giving her students a choice. 

If all lessons could provide a pleasurable exploration of the world deep change for each individual would gradually develop. A lightning strike would be nice. We can hope.

The Guardian link: 

Poem of the week: Lightning Strikes School Tree by John Clegg

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/jan/09/poem-of-the-week-lightning-strikes-school-tree-by-john-clegg?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other

A WALK ALONG THE WEY NAVIGATION from Pyrford Lock to Newark Lock and Ripley Village

 

Tony Brown and I beside The Wey Navigation.

Thursday 6^th October 2022. Tony and I went for a walk. We go walking together often, along with John Lodge. John couldn’t make it this time so Tony and I decided that we would walk the canalised part of the River Wey from near Wisley. There was no thought of a given distance. We merely wanted a pleasant walk and a pub lunch in  whatever establishment we came across.

Walking, It is what us human beings are made for. I remember teaching and learning about the human body with some of the primary school classes I taught over the years   I would get the class into groups and each group  would lay out a long piece of lining paper on the floor. A child would volunteer to lie down on the paper. Other children would draw an outline around them. The whole group, using books and diagrams as source information, would draw a skeleton within the outline shape, naming the bones. Then  muscles attached to the bones and interior organs would be sketched and labelled too. Once the whole diagram had been finished the children had created a life size, detailed diagram of the human body. Muscles attached to bones showed where they pushed and pulled creating movement in any particular limb. It was obvious for all to see that the whole of the human body was designed to move. When we watch the Olympic Games every four years humans jump, run, swim, dive, twist and turn, throw and balance. Every possibility of human movement is explored and employed in the most amazing ways. When we don’t move, we become sedentary. We can lose our full potential. Not moving for a long time affects our brain and moods. We only have to think of our own experience.

Tony drove to  my house in West Barnes Lane and came in for a cup of tea and a chat with Marilyn and I. When we were ready , Tony did the driving, we drove down the A3. Once past The Kingston bypass and the Ace of Spades roundabout we get out of Greater London.

“Is this where the fifty mile an hour speed limit finishes? “asked Tony.

“Yes.”

And so we accelerated up to seventy miles per hour.

Tony is a smooth driver and we sped swiftly onwards. At first fields and sheds and small industrial units appear on each side. A liminal space, neither countryside, residential or industrial, an in-between world, one type of terrain melding into the other. Then dense woodland, Oxshott Woods, with footbridges arching over the top of us from one side to the other. Sometimes you can see horses being ridden over a bridge. In its full autumn foliage, the A3 feels like driving through a canyon of leafy walls. A pleasant wilderness, a great forest. Of course from an aerial viewpoint and on my satnav I could see villages and towns and farms not far away, but, for that stretch of road you can dream. I like this drive. It’s not just a long black tongue of road leading for seventy miles down to Portsmouth. The sense of forest and wilderness appeals to something primal perhaps inside all of us.

We turned off for Wisley, coming off the slip road on the left and passed under the A3 and drove back up the A3 on the opposite side for a mile until we came to the partly hidden Wisley turn off  shielded behind trees and shrubs. 

The Wisley Road to Pyrford Lock on The River Wey passes the entrance to the RHS Wisley Gardens on the left. It is a winding road tree lined with some depth of woodland in places but also with fields visible through the gaps in the trees followed by open areas of fields. The road has no pavements. It is just wide enough for two cars to pass. But the blind bends and turns make it difficult to drive along. A driver needs to be fully engaged and fully concentrating on the road ahead. We passed Wisley Church and thought it would be a good idea to visit the church on our way back. It is a small stone built church mostly from the 12^th century. We wound our careful way to the Pyrford Lock where the Anchor Pub is located right on the side of the river. A car park next to the river is on the right but we drove into the larger car park on the left across the road from The Anchor.

The Wey Navigation.

We set out   We discussed the idea that we would walk along the river and canal for a while and then turn back to have a pub lunch at The Anchor.  A lock gate leaking water to the lower level was next to the bridge crossing the river here. A pathway wends its way towards Guildford on the left bank so we started our walk in that direction. Trees still green with leaves, a few turning autumn yellow. The river full to the top of the banks after recent rains, glassy smooth, reflecting the trees and shrubs. It is amazing how walking promotes talking.

“Is the river flowing?” Tony wondered. It looked so still and glassy.

We stopped for a moment and observed the surface. We could see the river moving to our right almost imperceptibly. It was flowing in the direction of the Thames which it feeds at Shepperton Lock near D’Oyly Carte Island.We noticed masses of what at first looked like large clumps of watercress growing profusely on both sides of the river. Again we stopped to look more carefully. We decided that it wasn’t watercress but what appeared to be small lily pads but probably something else entirely. These days an app on your phone can recognise almost any plant, tree or shrub and provide you with information as well as a picture. However Tony hasn’t got a plant recognition app on his phone and I deleted the one I had. I used the app assiduously for a while and then lost interest in it. We will have to wait for another time to identify that particular  water plant.

The banks of the river and canal changed as we walked along. Sometimes the banks were those of a river, winding and curving. At other times, especially where there were locks the river was straight sometimes with brick built sides and sometimes with turf sides. I have never seen a turf sided canal before.

Lock gate near Pyrford.

The Wey River Navigation  is one of the oldest types of canal in the country. A turf canal was  first constructed along The River Wey between 1618 and 1619 by Sir Richard Weston an owner of the land stretching either side of the river.He built a three mile cut through his land in 1618. The Guildford Corporation petitioned the King to extend the canalisation so that boats could reach Guildford from the Thames.The work was completed in November 1653. This new canal, the idea for which came from visits to the Netherlands, improved the economy of Guildford and mid Surrey well before the Industrial Revolution and the northern canal systems. Wood to rebuild London after the Great Fire of 1666 came from Surrey via The Wey Navigation. Stone from quarries near Guildford was moved along the canal and was used for building of St Paul’s Cathedral. Timber, corn, flour, wood and gunpowder moved north along the canal and then down the Thames to London. By linking Guildford and hence mid Surrey to The Thames, exports from Europe  by the Hanseatic League, ( a commercial and defensive confederation of merchant guilds and market towns growing from a group of north German towns in the late 12^th century) provided wood, tar, cereals, fish, salt and many other items. Wines from Italy and Spain and many other links could be accessed from the trading highway The Thames provided and could be transported to Guildford.  From the 18^th century the,” triangular trade,” created by The Royal Africa Company involved enslaved Africans from the West Coast of Africa. The slaves were used on the plantations to grow sugar cane and the sugar created great wealth for Britain. Products such as sugar  reached Guildford along the canal.

Nowadays our present government is critical of any emphasise on the effects that 18^th century slavery still plays today. The fact that we have systemic racism in most large organisations, denied by our Conservative Government, and racist acts and attitudes are still prevalent in our society, can  be directly linked to our attitudes and beliefs deriving from our past trade in slaves .  I think we have to be aware of that to able to address the issues that occur today and not just say , that all happened in the past. By knowing our history and accepting its consequences  we can begin to solve racist problems today. Change only comes about through knowledge and being aware.

The path beside The Wey Navigation.

The Pathway wending its way along the side of the Wey Navigation is cared for by The National Trust. The Trust members these days are divided along  political and social factions because of the different attitudes to historical interpretation, some of which is linked to our slave trade past and some attributed to how we differ on our views about land management and the attitudes to the countryside as a whole. I am a member of The National Trust. It’s houses, landscapes and gardens are without doubt national treasures and absolutely amazing to be able to visit.The National Trust allows all of us to experience, historic houses and their treasures, historic landscapes such as Capability Brown designed  gardens, forests, moors and mountains. They also have to pay regard to current issues about sustainability, the environment, interpretation of our past history and also take into account the effects our past has on our present such as the legacy of colonialism and slavery.  Some members think there is too much emphasis on the legacy of slavery. Slavery created the wealth for building many of The Trusts properties and lands. Therefore the  role of slavery surely must be part of the interpretation of our past.

With regards to the landscape and the grounds of many of The Trust properties, some think The National Trust should only be involved in keeping the landscapes as they always were. As long as this does not damage our environment they can do that I think. However, members are divided.  The National Trust by its very name has to take into account national issues. It can’t be divorced from the real world. The management of our environment helps us all. The historic landscapes the trust oversees were developed to meet the needs of past times. Many trust members think that aspects of them should develop in line with the needs of today. Originally these landscapes and grand estates were developed  to meet the needs of different times.

It appeared to Tony and I that the fields around The Wey are affected by some of these issues. Fields near us were in a wild and unkempt state. Tony and I talked about food production in Britain. There we were surrounded by fields and marshes much of which  did not appear to be farmed.One weedy and overgrown field had a single cow in it. I wondered if this was part of the rewilding happening on some National Trust properties. Some think rewilding is wrong. Tony made the point that Britain needs to grow as much food as it can and be more self sufficient than we are at present. I think both arguments are right . We need to produce food as a country but we also need to nurture and care for nature. Some might think that is sentimental . However, I know this from exploring habitats in school even with young children, that the smallest habitats interrelate by way of ecosystems and there is a reliance on  each part for all parts to thrive. Plants rely on the soil and climate,insects rely on plants,  birds and dormice rely on insects, larger preditors rely  on the small animals and so the chain goes on. There are those among us who wonder what all this means for us humans. Healthy habitats and the larger ecosytems  affect the air we breath, the water we drink, the standards of  food we eat. All of life is connected. If ecosystems are destroyed then in the long run we do indeed destroy ourselves. Rewilding has a very important purpose in sustaining the ecosystms we need to survive, creating those important environmental chains. 

As  humans we need to connect with nature, as Tony and I were doing in our walk, helping us to become stronger physically and mentally. Breathing fresh air and the beauties of nature are good for us in many ways. It makes you feel good and a healthy environment does you good.

Brightly painted canal boats.

As we walked along the river, various locks and sluices have been added and developed over the centuries. One sluice gate near Ripley had a late 19^th century date on it . So it is obvious the canal has not remained exactly as it was when first made in the 17^th century. The canal has had a history that continues and develops up to the present day. The arguments of one faction in the National Trust is regressive and not helpful and damaging. We need to look at our world in the round.One final point about The Wey path being cared for by the National Trust.As Tony and I walked along there were many pristine and shiny house boats , some anchored at the side of the canal, one or two chugging along gracefully in mid stream.  The very use of the canal,not only being used by Tony and myself as a very pleasant walk but the canal is also being used in ways that are appropriate to nowadays. Those arguing for nothing to change have lost out already in the uses of The Wey Navigation.

 

One of the things I always enjoy on a walk is passing other people.Two ladies of our age , probably in the retirement category like Tony and I walked past us going the opposite way. We naturally moved to make way for each other and none of us broke step. A nod of acknowledgement, a smile, a word or two overheard. It was a fleeting human connection. We have never met them before and they have never met us. We will never see each other again.It is a few seconds of all our lives. Strange to think of our life’s journey and obviously their life’s journey leading to those fleeting seconds. It’s good to acknowledge other humans , a glance, a smile. That is all it takes.I suppose you know you are not alone on this planet.

The lodge where Jonne Donne lived. (1600-1604 )

John Donne lived near Ripley for a short part of his life. As we walked along we came across some large houses partly hidden behind trees and lush lawns. These  homes had their own riverside quays to tie up  boats . Next to the river on the opposite side we saw a two storey brick built building with a strange, what appeared to be an oriental style roof. Tony thought it looked like a Dutch design. I noticed the brickwork looked weathered and the individual bricks were narrow and wide. From visits to Hampton Court, as a comparison, they  looked like Tudor brickwork. The windows, top and bottom were lead latticed in a diamond formation which also leant this building an ancient feel and look. I noticed a plaque on the side of the building. It read,

 “John Donne lived here. 1600-1604”

Jonne Donne the poet and Deane of St Pauls Cathedral in the City of London, suffered financial problems at one time in his life and he stayed here as cheap  alternative accomodation. This riverside building had been part of a larger complex, no longer in existence. It belonged to his wife’s (Anne More) family. I wonder if he felt inspired to write any of his poetry here?

Perhaps he complained about the sun waking him in the morning?

THE SUN RISING

Busy old fool, unruly sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late school boys and sour prentices,
Go tell court huntsmen that the king will ride,
Call country ants to harvest offices,
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time …

 

Newark Priory set on an island next to The Wey.

Further on we caught sight of Newark Priory, set in an expansive meadow across the river from us. It was established in 1189 but redeveloped in 1312.The priory is set on a large island and cannot be easily reached. It is not open to the public because it is  privately owned. A service is held once a year in its ruins lead by the Bishop of Guildford. It stands alone.The parts that remain are a steeply pitched end wall of what was once a great hall or perhaps the church that once stood here. Other ruined walls of  buildings and rooms are clustered there. When you see a ruined place like this thoughts go to what life was like in a place like that when it was a vibrant religious establishment. Tony suggested the priory made its living from mills on the river. The meadows surrounding it could have been used for sheep farming. I read on Wikipedia that the priory also owned land and property in the city of London from which it could exact rents.

After observing the priory Tony and I reached Newark Lock. We stood for a while listening to the sound of rushing water and observing two swans gliding by gracefully. A sign post nearby pointed us in the direction of Ripley Village. I have never been to Ripley before. It has a wide main street. Tudor timber frame buildings are interspersed with white Georgian fronts and Victorian brick built structures. Standing in the centre of the village  we could see at least three pubs . The names of the pubs in Ripley all have nautical names. Ripley was on the main route from London to Portsmouth, so many sailors passed this way in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Just outside of Ripley Village.

The Ship Inn looked inviting but when we arrived at the door it was closed. Further west down the High Street we could see the sign for The Anchor. When we reached it it too was a timber frame  building. I noticed a small round Michelin sticker on one window as we passed  but didn’t give it a lot of thought. We walked into a low beamed room and walked to the counter in front of us. A young lady came to enquire our needs. As I approached her I suddenly staggered to the left. A steep slope in the floor from one level to  another caught me unawares. A little embarrassing. Jokingly I said to the girl that the restaurant wanted to keep people off balance. She didn’t take it as a joke and pointed out a warning sign below the desk she stood at. The sign was indeed a warning about the slope but it wasn’t at eye level. I think the restaurant was at fault but I laughed it off. Another young lady showed us to a table and gave us each a menu. Looking around it could be seen that  different rooms from different connected buildings had been made into one space by demolishing dividing walls. There were lots  of nooks and crannies which gave it an old comfortable ambience. We decided we liked it.

 The menus were a little,” eye watering.” They were pricey. I remembered the Michelin sticker in the window and asked the manageress about this. The restaurant had been awarded a Michelin approved status. It did not have a Michelin star but the manageress explained that they were obliged to produce food  of a Michelin star standard. Having  Michelin recognition without the star allowed them to be more experimental and not keep to the narrow menu a Michelin star might require. Then Tony and I focussed more on  the prices of the individual dishes, took a deep breath and decided, after a pause and a bit of muttering between us, that we would order food, consoling each other that we didn’t do this sort of thing often. The pricing was double what we would have normally expected to pay , but hey, anyway.

We ordered two pints of the  Rebellion IPA brewed at the local Ripley brewery. Local breweries are producing some excellent beers these days and this particular IPA had a lovely light flowery flavour and at 3.7% it wasn’t too strong. We had a return journey along the Wey Navigation to achieve yet.

We both ordered from the A La Carte menu. I ordered a starter of ,”Hand divided Scallops with a raisin and caper vinaigrette.” My main course was  ,”Seed crusted venison with a butternut puree pickled blackberries and roast shallots.” Ok I know what you are thinking. “Blimey.” Well, I can report the food was delicious. It appeared on square white china plates. The food was laid out on our plates like works of artwork that Picasso would have been proud of. It looked fantastic, but, disappointingly, the portions were tiny. For my starter the waitress presented me with the plate of scallops and then in a dramatic manner posing like an actress dribbled the vinaigrette sauce in a swirling flourish over the scallops. Of course when you order ,”posh,” food this is what you have  to expect. We took our time sipping our pints of IPA. We also took our time eating the food, not wanting to eat it too quickly, reassuring each other how good it tasted.  I would love to eat the scallops and the seed crusted venison again but a lot more of it and at half the price. I think we need these sort of experiences  even if only once. The waitress who served us and the restaurant manager were both very friendly and helpful and they made for an overall enjoyable, warm, relaxed experience. We ate and drank and then payed the bill trying not to think about the cost.

From Ripley Village we retraced our steps to the weir on The Wey passing an apple tree that overhung the pavement from a field nearby. Perhaps the remnants of an orchard that once grew in this field. Who knows?  We tried an apple each. They were sweet and crunchy. A free dessert!

We reached the Wey Navigation and wended our way back along the tow path to Pyrford Lock. The  pub at Pyrford Lock, also called The Anchor, has an amazing coffee machine. Chrome levers with a chrome trim encircling the whole machine, catching the light. Hissing and steaming , the coffee machine provided for all the senses. We sat by the river and drank a coffee and ate a scone each. There was a noticeable difference between , The Anchor at Ripley and the The Anchor here at Pyrford Lock. The food at Pyrford Lock is cheap, fish and chips and pie and mash. Perfectly good tasty food but not Michelin style of course. There is nothing wrong with that. It was  the atmosphere created by the staff at the Pyrford Lock Anchor pub that was noticeable. The restaurant manager and waitress at The Anchor in Ripley were friendly, warm  and smiled, a lot . You could sense they their friendliness and they made us feel good.  The Anchor at Pyrford Lock had a stern bar manager who seemed to create anxiety among the two  staff behind the bar.   The staff seemed to be ruled by fear. Maybe a little of an exaggeration but the difference in the two establishments was certainly stark. The Anchor at Pyrford could learn from The Anchor at Ripley.

Wisley Church.

On the way back, driving along Wisley Lane we remembered to stop at Wisley Church. It is a small church, almost a chapel ,set back from the road behind some farm buildings. It is an ancient church first built in the 12^th century and like most village churches added to over the centuries. Although, as Wisley church is a very small church   very few parts have been built on in later centuries . A wooden north porch was added in the 17^th century and the church itself was refurbished in 1872 quite recently in the broad scheme of things. The font looked as though it might have been part of the original 12^th century church. An original tiled reredos behind the altar was uncovered in the refurbishment of 1872. The thick whitewashed walls of the interior look and feel ancient too. Walking into a country church like this,  one of the first things you notice is the stillness and the quiet. The interior feels cool. Any light and warmth from the sun can only penetrate through the beautiful stained glass windows. Being inside a  church like this encourages contemplation and thought.

Tony and I spent sometime looking at the various stained glass windows and artefacts inside the church.

Then back into the car and home.

As I have described we walked through and past  a number of historic landscapes. The 17^th century Wey Navigation,   Ripley village with its timber frame Tudor buildings, the lodge where Jonne Donne and his wife lived  in the 1600s, Newark Priory founded between 1189 and 1199 and Wisley Church built in the 12^th century. It is reasonably easy to find out historical facts about these places. Why were they built? Who used  them? We can find artefacts in museums locally  and read historical analysis based on documents, archaeology and the artefacts discovered or handed down through time. What we can’t do is know what it was like to actually live at the time these places were constructed and first in use. What was life like as a monk in Newark Priory? What was it to be the person who met and spoke to John Donne?  Beliefs , life experiences, relationships, what were they really like? How for instance did a Tudor or a Plantagenet actually feel and think? Nowadays we have historic reconstruction events and the writers of historic fiction use as much as they can to imagine life in a given period. You can begin to get a sense of life then but it can only be a vague inkling with the little knowledge we have. We can’t really know.

 

 

REGENTS CANAL WALK CONTINUED. Part 2 (Kings Cross to Kingsland Road.) Part 3 (Kingsland Road to Limehouse.)

 

Tony and John with the statue of Sir John Betjamin in St Pancras Station.

Part 2  KINGS CROSS TO THE KINGSLAND ROAD HACKNEY

 On Thursday 24^th February John and myself joined by Tony Brown, continued the Regents Canal Walk.

John and I had finished the first part of the walk at The British Library and Kings Cross Station, so it was from there we continued walking the canal path.

We had a wander around St Pancras Station, opened in October 1868 and designed by William Henry Barlow looking at the immense iron and glass arched roofs and the wonderful Victorian brickwork all around, archways and pillars, brickwork, windows and doors. A masterpiece of Victorian Gothic. A ,"cathedral," in its own right. St Pancras is now the Eurostar station and the gateway to Europe from London. Two long sleek Euro Star trains were in the station while we were there.. The tall giant bronze statue of a couple embracing, the plinth of which is surrounded by bronze plaques depicting events connected with the station.

We found the statue to Sir John Betjamin and posed for photographs with him. Betjamin, star of TV documentaries and accessible poetry, his poetry always striking me with the depth of its meaning within the simple imagery and rhythms he created.  In many ways he is the poet of  the mid 20^th century landscape  and buildings of Britain. Apart from his poems he is known as the saviour of many a Victorian building that might have been demolished,including St Pancras Station itself. That is why his statue is here.However he was too late to save the amazing façade of Euston Station  a mile down the road from St Pancras.

“Revival ran along the hedge

and made my spirit whole

When steam was on the window panes

And Glory in my soul"

 By Sir John Betjamin

The age of steam, the Industrial Revolution, the glories of the Victorian age, the rural landscape and practices of the past were what inspired John Betjamin. I don’t remember, when watching his documentaries as a youth, whether he ever delved into the detrimental aspects of all that, and may well have condoned them as necessary; the class system underpinned by poverty, the coal polluting practices of the Victorian era and so forth. So, in many ways, the popular poet maybe is not so popular now. 

Inside The Betjamin Arms set within The Midlands Hotel.

Britain is , on the whole, quite good at keeping the best examples of our past buildings. We have The National Trust and also English Heritage which are devoted to keeping many examples of  the great country houses of the Georgian period,  Medieval Castles,Roman Forts, including more modern examples of architecture and in some cases buildings kept just because of who lived there. I am thinking here of John Lennon's Aunty Mamies house in Menlove Avenue Liverpool,an ordinary 1930s semi. The National Trust has also preserved   the council house in Forthlin Road Liverpool where Paul McCartney lived as a child and as a teenager wrote, along with John Lennon some of their early hit songs. Houses like those are justly kept. However, our city and town council planning departments have not been so good at retaining unique examples of architecture within their city and town boroughs. “Concrete Brutalist,” buildings , housing estates from the 60s and 70s , often well designed and unique examples of our built heritage in their own right have been the target of demolition. Renovation and repurposing are not in many town planning departments vocabulary, which is a great shame. It begs the important questions, what is valuable? what should be kept? what can be repurposed or renovated? The canal walk provides examples of a whole range of architecture, old and new , some has been repurposed and some developed in new ways, and also places where buildings have been demolished and new masterpieces erected. 

The three of us had a coffee and a chat about this and that, as you do,  in the Betjamin Arms bar and tea room set within the structure of the magnificent Midland Hotel which fronts St Pancras  and overlooks the Euston Road. We could also look back into the station concourse with those Eurostar trains waiting. The interior of the bar displays all the Victorian Gothic features Betjamin was so proud of.

From here we walked out of the front of the station passing the front of The Midland Hotel marvelling at its magnificence.

We reached the canal again just north of St Pancras and Kings Cross.

 We  turned right beside the British Library next door  and headed north towards the canal. We passed

under the vast concrete underpass over which the railway lines from the station pass and then took a turn left up to the canal at Granary Square where indeed the old Victorian buildings that were used as granaries are located. There was also a coal depot here, an old  fading sign on the side of a brick building informs us so. Our walk continued along the north side of the canal going east.

There is a whole mixture of things the canal is about. It has its history of horse drawn boats moving goods about the country and helping in boosting the Industrial Revolution. Iron, sugar, tea, tin, explosives, oil, wool, items from the West Indies , the coal and the granaries at Granary Wharf all part of the diverse trade that the canal enabled.There is much left to show us about its origins. The tow paths are stone edged. Brick sides drop vertically into the water and there is the  complexity of lock gates, at intervals, moving boats from one level to another. Often the lock keeper’s cottages still remain. Wide basins that extend off the canal to the north and south of the canal include City Road Basin, Battlebridge Basin where the London Canal Museum is now located, St Pancras Basin where we began the second part of our canal walk and  others. These must have been locations for industries that required their own quays and piers for loading and offloading goods produced locally making items for trade with other parts of the country via the canal system. Some of the old warehouses still remain converted into flats , offices and workshops. Along the route of the canal there is also a  cross section of society, social housing, small businesses, elegant architectural builds, modern executive flats, businesses secreted under old brick archways beside the canal, boating clubs and of course a multitude of canal boats. Sometimes you can smell the wood burners on some of these canal boats from a distance as you approach. Often the spaces on the roofs of the canal boats are a collection of flower pots, washing lines, stove chimneys, bicycles lying on their sides and the clutter of canal living.

 

Untidy canal life.

As we walked, often  joggers went past. Cyclists, sometimes, but not often, warned us of their approach by ringing their bell but sometimes provided no warning at all. Mums with buggies and as the day proceeded, teenagers making their way home from school. Once in a while we see the owners and inhabitants of the canal boats, through the open entrance to their boat or perhaps as they emerge on to the pathway. We have spoken to some, passing the time of day. I remember seeing one lady ensconced in the cabin of her boast brewing tea in a cramped area. I looked down at her and she looked up. I felt a little guilty, perhaps impinging on her privacy. But I am sure she is used to this with her lifestyle.

As we approached Islington the canal enters a tunnel and goes underground for 960 meters just short of a kilometre. It was opened in 1818 and designed by the engineer James Morgan. There is no towpath here so we had to walk above the tunnel following the signs to where the tunnel once again emerged further along.. We walked along Chapel Street where Chapel Street market is located . It is a  multicultural area, Italian coffee shops, Indian restaurants and fruit and veg stalls, and clothing stalls. A little reminiscent of Albert Square in Eastenders.. At the end of Chapel market, near The Angel Islington we went into The Islington Town House public house for a beer and something to eat. We later rejoined the canal towpath at Duncan Street and Colebrook Row.

What is prevalent everywhere is the graffiti and tags. Tags are signature names. Graffitti is more complex and often makes a political or social commentary.Much of the tags look untidy because the artists have created their signs and pictures, one on top of another. You can make out most of their tags though. TAGS are primarily a set of initials sometimes just scrawled swiftly with a can of spray paint, sometimes intricately formed giving the initials a three dimensional effect and carefully painted in two or more colours. D.E.X, MUNS, CHUP, PUAN, MOEX and the tags multiplied as we walked along. The ZERZ tag was done on a number of locations along the canal, meticulously formed in silver and sometimes green but always  in a three dimensional form. Why would somebody want to leave a mark like that? This form of street art has been carried out for thousands of years. I remember visiting Pompeii in the Bay of Naples a few years ago and seeing Ancient Roman tags in the streets of the ancient city. A particular gladiator had his fan following in one street in Pompeii. It makes me and other onlookers notice. We read it. We wonder at the nerve of somebody to do that. A connection is made with the tag artist. They have made their mark and we have been  affected by it.  A message saying, I exist, is conveyed. I find graffiti really interesting. Some people think its an act of vandalism but surely vandalism is about making  a comment, sending a message from the heart and mind and not always destructively. Graffitti and TAGS are often positive things..  Banksy is one of the most famous and sophisticated of the graffiti artist known all over the world. There is a famous Banksy in Shoreditch just south of the canal. Shoreditch has its famous stick people logos by an artist called Stix. Many advertising companies use his graffiti  art work. Often the graffiti  around Shoreditch carries importance to the local community and all of us who see it. Sitting on the top of the 243 bus from Hoxton to Waterloo the other day I passed a  fence, fencing off a building site that has a recent mural depicting urban bombing in the Ukraine. A child with a teddy bear melts into a skeletal form half flesh and half skull. I saw the mural for a passing moment but feel its emotional impact even now when I think about it. Walls, roofs, a collection of disused underground trains stacked on top of a building, bridges and shop fronts are all a canvas for the graffiti artist.

Graffiti along the canal side.

Just before we reached the bridge over the canal at Kingsland Road in Shoreditch we saw some elegant modern flats with balconies overlooking the canal labelled the ,"Gainsborough Studio Flats." This modern block is the northern canal side of the complex. On the south side overlooking Shoreditch Park in Poole Street is an old Victorian industrial building. It was originally a coal fired power station for the Great Northern and City Railway. A small white surround art nouveau doorway is located at the right this façade and a blue plaque on the wall near this entrance provides further information about this buildings later use. After its first life as a power station it was repurposed as the famous Gainsborough Film Studios.

Gainsborough Studios was active between 1924 and 1951. Other films were made at Lime Grove and Pinewood Studios. This former film studios was converted into flats in 2004.The studio is best remembered for the Gainsborough melodramas it produced in the1940s.

Gainsborough Studios, apartments.

Gainsborough Studios, produced some of Britain’s best-known early films, such as The Lady Vanishes (1938), The Man in Grey (1943) and Fanny by Gaslight (1944), as well as launching the careers of the many of the country’s cinema stars. Above all, one of the world’s greatest film directors learned his trade at the studios, east London-born Alfred Hitchcock (1899-1980).  

We climbed the stone steps from the canal side at Kingsland Road and finished our second leg of the walk near the mosque on Kingsland Road and got the bus back to Waterloo Station.

Part 3  THE KINGSLAND ROAD TO LIMEHOUSE

We continued our walk on the final stretch from the Kingsland Road bridge over the canal  on the 16th March.  After passing more graffiti on walls, a set of lock gates  and the expected cyclists and joggers eventually we arrived at Victoria Park, with its Chinese Pagoda and boating lakes. Victoria Park opened in 1845 and was created to beautify the East End, provide recreational space and improve public health. The consultant planner was Sir James Pennethorne. The park is located in Tower Hamlets. It is bordered by Hackney, Bethnal Green and Stratford, where the 2012 Olympic Park is located. We didn’t venture over to the Olympic stadiums because we kept to the canal footpaths.

The Chinese pagoda in Victoria Park.

While we were in the park, John had a word with a couple of police officers patrolling the park. We had had a few near misses with cyclists speeding past us along the canal towpath. None of them had rung their bells as they approached us. Tony and I  walked on and only observed from a distance. The police officers looked suitably concerned and noted John’s complaint it appeared.

 Victoria Park must have witnessed the recreation of so many ,”East Enders.” It is a beautiful park. All of us from whatever section of society, deserve to experience the beauty of nature. London is blessed with not only the famous parks, Hyde Park and Regents Park which our canal walk has taken us past, set in central London but a multitude of local parks in every London borough , often each borough has a number of wonderful parks not just one, across London. Londoners are very lucky to have this legacy from as early as  Victorian times and from the early twentieth century to enjoy , to be able to exercise, taking part in football, cricket, bowling, tennis, paddling pools and children’s playgrounds. The parks are a resource that improves the populations health and well being. Local people love their parks and defend their existence vehemently at times. My own local park created in the1930s by a local politician Sir Joseph Hood,is the beating communal heart of my neighbourhood. Childrens’ sports teams, adult sports teams, a playschool open everyday of the week for toddlers and a place to just stroll, relax, listen to bird song    and in one case, I have witnessed, to practice your skills at tai chi.

The entrance to Victoria Park, Tower Hamlets.

As we approached the Limehouse Basin, where the Regents Canal actually begins,  at the heart of docklands, we were passing some blocks of flats on the opposite side of the canal. We heard an angry voice shouting abuse at a neighbour. We could not work out what the gentleman’s anger was about. He was very upset and very angry. And he didn’t stop his tirade. It continued certainly after we had moved on into the distance. We could hear the other person trying to reply but not getting a word in edgeways.

Flats beside the canal.

Limehouse Basin is a large area of water surrounded by quays where luxury yachts amd motor launches are moored. It is worth taking a moment to recall what was here before. In the 19^th century this basin would have been surrounded by multi-storey brick built warehouses. Doorways high in the structures would have had cranes with rope winches to haul bales and crates of products to the upper levels. Steam ships puffing out coal dust, the splash and rumble of paddle steamers. Thames barges that traded all along the Kent coast with large brown and red sails would have proliferated . The shouts and calls of stevedores, the clip clopping of horses pulling canal barges alongside some of the quays and ships at anchor ready to take on-board produce from all over the Empire and transport it up the canal system to Birmingham , the Midlands and the north. It was all here;a hive of activity.

Arriving at Limehouse Basin.

Now nearly all the buildings are modern, apartments, offices and small businesses. Very few examples of the 19^th century infrastructure remain. The brick chimney of a pump house can be glimpsed behind the Docklands Light Railway Railway viaduct. The bridge archways that support the viaduct that arch over the final part of the canal as it joins the basin  are part of the old canal and basin infrastructure. It is apt to remember that most of the old docklands were destroyed during the Blitz, the docklands in the east end being a prime target. We walked around the pathways that lead over pedestrian bridges across narrow inlets that lead to smaller basins off Limehouse  and around the quay side. A sign post indicated the direction of The Grapes public house. At the end of our walk we were looking forward to a pint and some grub.

A Victorian pump house chimney protruding above the Docklands Light Railway viaduct at Limehouse.

The Grapes pub is situated in, Narrow Street, backing on to the Thames with Docklands stretching east of it. The back of the pub has a balcony over the Thames itself.  Narrow Street appears to be a misnomer. It is not narrow. What there is today is a wide thoroughfare with  wide green verges and a small park. Referring to the history of Limehouse however, Narrow Street was indeed narrow with originally, the row of houses where The Grapes is situated almost within touching distance of the  houses and buildings opposite it.

Other streets in the area, Ropemakers Fields, East India Dock Road, Basin Approach, Shoulder of Mutton Alley all give indications about the local history.

Entering The Grapes in Limehouse. (The Six Jolly Fellowship- Porters)

We walked through the door of the Grapes into a narrow passage to the right with dark brown varnished  wood panelled walls giving a gloomy feeling to the place. Old black and white photographs hung on the walls showing dockworkers from , I presume, the 1930s  sitting in a row each supping a pint of beer. There was a small bar to the left with a smiling welcoming barmaid and landlady standing behind the counter. We walked on through to the back of the pub which had three or four beer barrels turned on end as tables and wooden benches. Another bar opened on to this part of the pub. The windows at the back looked out onto the Thames. It was obvious the back of the pub was lapped by the river. Some steps inside the back of the pub lead to a balcony outside overlooking the Thames. We sat down and perused the menu on the table in front of us. I noticed the walls were covered in pictures of Charles Dickens and  some his characters. I didn’t at first give these pictures much attention. The thought that always occurs when you walk into an old pub anywhere in London and see Dickens on the walls is that once Dickens came in here. Dickens walked all over London, finding inspiration. I was certainly not wrong about, The Grapes.

However the first thing I asked the genial smiling landlady was , jokingly ,”that’s a big shillelagh you have behind the bar.”A large brown varnished knobbly stick with a gnarled end was on display.  “Oh no, that’s not a shillelagh ,” she said. “What do you think it might be?”  I don’t know why but I immediately said, tongue in cheek, “It’s Gandalphs staff.” “ Yes it is. Sir Ian McKellen is a part owner of The Grapes.” I was gobsmacked. I then noticed, near us at the back of the pub, was a miniature statue of Gandalf the Wizard wielding his staff. 

Gandalph is behind me.

Then of course I asked about The Dickens connection. Both the landlady and the barmaid came together , all smiles and enthusiasm and related to us about the Dicken’s link. The Grapes is ,”The Six Jolly Fellowship- Porters,” that features especially in the first book of Our Mutual Friend. Here Gaffer Hexam fell out of favour  with Miss Abby Potterson, the landlady in the novel. Here too the soaked and presumed drowned body of Rogue Riderhood was dragged from the Thames and laid out on a table in the pub and eventually revived to live on. Here Lizzie Hexam pleaded with Abby Potterson for clemency for her ,as it turns out, falsly accused father over being too successful at finding and recovering dead bodies from the Thames. Suspicions had been set going by Rogue Riderhood.  Miss Abby Potterson was a wise and intelligent warm hearted woman who everybody respected in the area and who laid down the law and looked after her customers wellbeing, knowing their wives and families intimately. The present day landlady, I never got to know her name, is just like Dicken’s description of Miss Abby Potterson, it occurred to me, warm, personable, in charge. So much happens around this pub in Dicken’s novel and we were sitting there in the bar where a lot of the early action takes place. Locations like this in London are exciting  to be in and a real privilege. The three of us had a couple of pints of the local brew and ate a plate of fish and chips, with  napkins and all the condiments provided. We went out on to the balcony at the back of The Grapes to look over the Thames and Docklands to the east. There, standing out of the water facing docklands is an Anthony Gormley iron cast figure, calm, implacable, gazing straight at the international banking area of Docklands. Perhaps, like Miss Abby Potterson, holding her customers  to account, this Gormley figure, above the lapping waves, is holding docklands and its financial commerce to account.

Antony Gormley's figure contemplating Docklands. (From the balcony at the back of The Grapes.)

Chapter VI Book One Our Mutual Friend

“ The Six Jolly Fellowship Porters already mentioned as a tavern of dropsical appearance, had long settled down into a state of hale infirmity. In its whole constitution it had not a straight floor , and hardly a straight line; but it had outlasted, and clearly would yet outlast, many a better a trimmed building, many a sprucer public house. Externally it was a narrow lopsided wooden jumble of corpulent windows heaped one upon another as you might heap as many toppling oranges, with a crazy wooden verandah impending over the water; indeed the whole house, inclusive of the complaining flagstaff on the roof , impended over the water, but seemed to have got into the condition of a fainthearted diver who has paused so longon the brink  that he will nevre go in.”

Yes, that is definitely The Grapes. After leaving The Grapes we walked along the Thames Path  to the Thames Clipper pier nearby. We got a ferry back to Westminster where we embarked walking a short distance to Waterloo Station and got our trains home.

As an afterthought, if John, Tony and myself created our own graffiti tags what might they be?

Here you are. Have a guess whose TAG is whose.

 

 

References:

Stik graffitti artists: http://stik.org/

Gainsborough Studios: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gainsborough_Pictures

Limehouse: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Limehouse

Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens Penguin Classics  (first published 1865) 1997

Victoria Park: https://www.towerhamlets.gov.uk/lgnl/leisure_and_culture/parks_and_open_spaces/victoria_park/victoria_park.asp

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victoria_Park,_London

 The Regents Canal: https://canalrivertrust.org.uk/enjoy-the-waterways/canal-and-river-network/regents-canal

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regent%27s_Canal

 

John Betjamin: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/john-betjeman

Canal Boat art: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roses_and_Castles

Antony Gormley: https://www.antonygormley.com/

The London Canal Museum: https://www.canalmuseum.org.uk/