Oyster PAYG on National Rail – some details

Thanks to the London Reconnections blog (and to Boris Watch for pointing it out), here’s some details on what to expect when Oyster pay-as-you-go comes to south-east London’s mainline railways. It’s scheduled to begin from 2 January, to coincide with the 2010 fare changes, although this has still to be confirmed. Here is a document from the Greater London Authority asking the mayor to approve those fare changes, which includes some of the details of how it will work, and the proposed fares.

Basically, there’ll be four sets of fares. At the moment, there’s two sets of fares in operation – one for the Tube and DLR, and one for TFL Rail (London Overground). From January, there’ll be two more – Train Company fares, and Train/TfL fares.

The Train Company fares will affect most SE London travellers – so here’s what you can expect to pay:

Zones 7, 8, 9, W and G don’t apply to us here in south-east London for these journeys – it’s just the 1-6 we need to worry about here.

So if you’re travelling from Charlton, Blackheath, Westcombe Park, Maze Hill, or any other zone 3 station to central London, that’s £2.60 to you in the rush hour, and £2 at other times. That compares with £2.70 or £2.40 for the same three-zone journey by London Underground. It also means that travelling by train will be cheaper than taking the bus to North Greenwich and taking the Tube (which will cost £3.50 or £3 for a single bus ride and a two-zone Tube ride).

From Greenwich or Lewisham, in zone 2, taking the train will also be cheaper than getting the DLR (£2.10 vs £2.30 in the rush hour, £1.70 vs £1.80 off-peak).

From Woolwich Arsenal, stuck in zone 4, the rush-hour train fare will be the same as that on the DLR – £3.10. At all other times, it’ll be slightly cheaper – £2.30 against £2.40 for the DLR equivalent.

If you’re going to use the Tube/DLR on your travels – say, my old commute from Charlton to White City, then this table will apply to you – the train/TfL fares.

If you travel through Zone 1, you’ll be charged an extra £1.10 on your fare. But if you don’t, then your fare will stay the same. So Charlton to West India Quay DLR, via Greenwich, will cost the same as Charlton to Deptford by train. (It’s unclear whether these fares will apply for journeys which use the new East London Line, due to open in May and which will have a Zone 1 stop at Shoreditch High Street – I would assume they will, though, since despite being part of the National Rail network, it’ll be a TfL Rail line. Worth watching if you plan to travel up to Hoxton or Highbury.)

Oyster cards currently have a daily cap on them – set at 50p below the day travelcard rate. From January, this cap will be the same as the day travelcard. Here’s next year’s day travelcard prices – the steep jump between zone 2 and zone 3 stays in place, sadly.

So travellers from Lewisham, Deptford, Greenwich and North Greenwich travelling into central London will pay a maximum of £7.20/day (£5.60 off peak), while us zone 3 passengers will pay £8.60 at most (£6.30 off peak from both zones 3 and 4). Using the overloaded bus service to North Greenwich Tube to get a cheaper fare isn’t going to go out of fashion just yet, especially for rush hour passengers from Woolwich Arsenal and beyond who’ll want to avoid a hefty £10 daily charge from zone 4.

There’s more details in the GLA document, which includes child fares and Travelcard prices, and the TfL Rail fares that’ll apply on the new East London line from Brockley and New Cross Gate. Some health warnings apply here – these haven’t been officially confirmed yet, and there could be errors in the information, so these figures are subject to change. There’s also been talk of a daft-looking idea of Travelcard users having to load an “Oyster extension permit” onto their cards before using mainline services outside their zones, but that’s not been confirmed either. But hopefully this gives you an early idea of how the scheme will work.

One final point of interest is in those extra zones. 7, 8 and 9 go out into Hertfordshire and Buckinghamshire; while Zone W is Watford Junction, where Oyster cards can also be used at a different rate.

But Zone G is the area around Grays, Essex – where c2c trains will be accepting Oyster cards to Chafford Hundred, the nearest station to Lakeside Shopping Centre. A smart idea to tempt Londoners onto trains and out of their cars.

But south of the river, though, there’s no sign of any such concession from Southeastern, which is grudgingly accepting Oyster as it is, on its trains to Greenhithe, the nearest stop to Bluewater. A terrible shame, and an indication of where Southeastern’s priorities really lie.

My Village people shame, and a City Hall troll

And then it had to come. The first anonymous, mildly threatening comment about me standing for the council. I don’t usually publish comments without a username and e-mail address, so this has spent the weekend stuck in a moderation queue…

Shock! I used to work for the BBC! But yes, it’s also true that I used to keep anonymous blogs – yes, I was one of those terrible people on the internet! – and used to make some ripe comments about places and institutions in this area. I used to caricature the Greenwich Millennium Village as the “yuppie village” back then; a tag I don’t really think is true now but it certainly had some resonance at the time. I’m not particularly proud of it, and I could have been a bit more tactful. While I cherish the hate mail I received telling me that I was jealous because I couldn’t afford to live there, I’m sorry if anyone was genuinely offended by it.

But the way GMV was going angered me back then, and I expressed an opinion, and found plenty of people agreed with me. There was also very little in the way of argument coming in the other direction – and it definitely had the air of a closed community at the time; even blocking accesses to the GMV website’s residents’ forum to non-residents.

Times change, facts change, and my opinion’s changed about the place too. I don’t think the creation of Greenwich Millennium Village was handled particularly well at the start, and sticking luxury apartments on what had been publicly-owned land wasn’t the most sensitive way of introducing local people to a new development, especially at a time when many local young people were being forced out of the area by an overheated property market. There was certainly an arrogance about the way it was marketed, although the developers came unstuck when they affixed the Olympic rings to one billboard. My grandfather used to work on that old gas works until the late 1970s, I spent a chunk of my childhood at the old British Gas sports ground where Sainsburys now sits. It was as if the “regeneration” of the peninsula had been for nothing but the enrichment of property speculators.

But since then, a wider, deeper community has built up in the Greenwich Millennium Village. Some shared ownership properties have popped up, and the population’s more balanced. I still think the way it was built and the way it was sold to people was badly flawed. There’s still a huge debate to be had about property development and speculation, but the Greenwich Millennium Village is a done deal now, and history can’t be rewritten.

The challenge now is to unite it with the rest of Greenwich, to make it easy to get up and down the peninsula, to create reasons for other locals to visit GMV, and not to abandon the people who took a chance on this windswept corner of SE10, and to make sure they enjoy the quality of life they believed they were going to get when they moved. I’m curious to discover more, because there seem to be all kinds of problems up there now.

As for me, well, I figured that venting anonymously on the internet had its limits. Although it can be a good thing – the message should always be more important than the person who writes it. I was only really anonymous because of my old job, something which actually became very frustrating. But while sometimes you learn things, sometimes you discover you’re wrong – you can only go so far under a pseudonym. And it can come back to bite you on the bum later on. Which is how I ended up here, today, with my real name, writing this blog. And trying the ultimate solution to put up or shut up accusations – standing for the council. Things still anger me, I still like to express my opinion and see if other people agree.

And as for my anonymous commenter? Just as I’ve discovered over the years, venting anonymously can come back to haunt you. This particular commenter came from IP address 213.86.122.5 – which is london.gov.uk; City Hall, in other words. Should people really be making veiled threats to people using London taxpayers’ computers? Probably not.

So who is my new friend? Well, I have one commenter who has a City Hall e-mail address, and has used phrases like “should be held accountable” here before, and has posted under a further psuedonym as well as his real name. I’m not going to name names because it’s tedious and this is just a diversion from the real issues. But trolling is not a nice thing to do. Especially if you’re involved with public life. So, for your own good, how about stopping it and concentrating on something important, eh?

Meanwhile, Adam Bienkov has got issues with another commenter with links to City Hall…

Blackheath fireworks vs Valencia’s Fallas

Slightly delayed after being ritually humilated in Cheshire, here’s last night’s Blackheath fireworks display as captured by my superb new toy, the Flip Video Ultra HD camera. It was a damn good show – and proof that as far as Greenwich and Lewisham councils are concerned, sometimes sending a chunk of tax money up in smoke can be a popular thing…. see if you can hear the chap behind us who was getting a little over-excited at the whizz-bangs.

Incidentally, what was with fencing off the southern side of Blackheath? It didn’t seem to do anything over than create a bottleneck when trying to leave after the fireworks finshed.

Just by way of comparison, here’s the fireworks at Fallas in Valencia – this is the showcase Nit Del Foc, which takes place at 2am on the penultimate night of the festival. The first time I ever went to Fallas, I thought it made Guy Fawkes’ Night look like a night with your dad and some sparklers in the back garden. But it’s actually difficult to compare the two – Guy Fawkes’ Night marks the onset of winter, Fallas the milder conditions of spring. If anything, the Spanish seem to prioritise sound over visuals in their displays.

Olympics organisers’ Greenwich Park videos

Thanks to Deptford Dame for the tip-off (and apologies for not putting this up sooner), but here’s a couple of videos produced by Olympics organisers LOCOG promoting their vision for Greenwich Park during London 2012. Here’s a tour of the equestrian course…

And here’s the British Equestrian Team crunching around the autumn leaves in the park, and giving Greenwich Park their backing.

Meet the candidate

This has been bubbling along behind the scenes for some time now – in fact, for what feels like an eternity – but at last it’s finally official. And you’d better know as a reader of this blog.

I’ve been picked as one of the three Green Party candidates to run for Peninsula ward at the next Greenwich Council elections in May. You can read the official confirmation on the Greenwich Green Party website.

Firstly, I’m going to try my best not to let it affect the quality or style of this blog – it’s not, and never will be, a party political blog. You’d have got bored of it months ago if it was. I would have done as well. However, what I will be doing in the coming weeks is setting up a Green blog for both Peninsula ward and Greenwich borough as a whole – we’ve three parliamentary candidates and we’ll have other council candidates too, and they all (I hope) should have things to say and contributions to make to the debate about how to improve this borough.

Secondly… why am I do doing it? I joined the Green Party just over a year ago, having flirted with the idea for a year or more before that. When I worked at the BBC, I thought it’d be wrong of me join a party, but when I knew I was on my way out, I filled in the form, set up the direct debit, and that was it. I’ve never been a member of a political party before. My first vote was in council elections in 1994, when I voted Liberal Democrat. I swung to Labour in 1997, but had my “never again” moment when Tony Blair’s government introduced university tuition fees and declined to renationalise the railways. The Iraq war sealed that for me.

I first voted Green in the 2005 general election, and was pleased to see the party campaigning in Charlton in the 2006 council elections. Shortly after this, I got to know Sue Luxton, a newly-elected Green councillor in Lewisham’s Ladywell ward. She put me in contact with the Greenwich Greens, and a long process of umming and ahh-ing about joining started. When Boris Johnson was elected London mayor, it made my mind up.

(Deep breath.)

Nationally, the government’s indulgence of those who exist solely for profit and riches angers me. There is no way we are going to combat climate change with policies that discriminate against public transport users, cyclists, and people who generate their own energy. We must learn to become a great deal more self-sufficient. It’s possible – but no other party is going to take on the private interests who would lose out. And we’ve had three decades of politicians seemingly determined to kneecap the chances of our young people. It’s a scandal that the likes of Jack Straw and Gordon Brown were educated for free at the taxpayers’ expense – but today’s 18-year-olds are funneled into university, to emerge with five figure debts and less hope of getting good work. This is supposed to be progress? In the economy, in the environment, we are suffering from the decisions of a selfish baby boomer generation which robbed the country of all that was valuable, and left their children to pick up the pieces. Labour is as guilty of that as the Conservatives – even more so, because we expected better, and got nothing.

(And relax.)

But the forum where you, and I, can hope to force change is locally. And for me… well, I thought I’d put my money where my mouth is.

Greenwich has been run by Labour since 1971. Its current leadership doesn’t listen to residents – or even its own councillors. It can’t even collect the rubbish properly, and many of its functions seem to run to make life easier for itself, and not for the benefit of local people. The opposition is unable to make a convincing case for change, and struggles to appeal to voters beyond its Eltham, Kidbrooke and Blackheath heartlands. The Liberal Democrats have a couple of decent councillors, but are more or less invisible. Voters in the borough’s riverside areas, Greenwich, Charlton, and Woolwich, clearly want a different sort of change to Labour. And I think the Green Party, which its record of being excellent community campaigners in Lewisham, should, and will provide a home for them – and should be able to help deliver that change, to stand up for local people. If elected, one of our main tasks will be to keep local people informed about the decisions that affect them, up to the Olympics, and beyond.

It’s not going to be easy. But Greenwich Council needs to be forced to open up, to engage with local people properly. On a wider level, that’s why I’ve started going to council meetings, and writing them up, and I’m going to carry on doing that, because I think local people deserve to know what’s being done and said in their name, whichever party their councillors belong. (I’m still more than happy for other parties to contribute in the comments – we need this kind of discussion.) The problem of having a weak local media is made worse by the all-smothering embrace of Greenwich Time, a propaganda newspaper you’d laugh at if you didn’t live round here. It’s a dangerous situation.

Thirdly, why Peninsula ward? It’s a massive ward stretching from the Royal Naval College to The Valley and up to the river, taking in the eastern side of Greenwich and the north-western corner of Charlton. I live about 500 yards outside the ward, in Charlton, and have done so for nearly 10 years. Before that, I spent about 22 years living right in the centre of what’s now Peninsula ward, by the flyover in east Greenwich – it’s the area I was brought up in, and it’s still the area where I shop and socialise. It’s the ward where the Greens performed best in the 2006 election – coming 250 votes behind council leader Chris Roberts. Obviously we’re also standing elsewhere, but Peninsula is where it starts. As it happens, many of the issues affecting Peninsula ward directly affect my little corner of Charlton anyway – transport, litter and so on.

So that’s that, and I hope that’s the last overtly political piece you’ll see here for some time. The election is on 6 May 2010. If you want to help me, then pop here and get in touch. If you’d rather I shut up and talked about something else… well, alright then.

Capital Ring 9: Stoke Newington to the Olympic Park

One of the most striking things about living in London is that it is always changing, often before our eyes. Tourists may come to visit ye olde London town, but the city we know is always in a permanent state of flux. New buildings go up, old ones are torn down. People settle down, people move on. Not all change is good, and some change is bewildering. But one of the few things that stays the same in London is its constant reinvention. The end of my penultimate Capital Ring walk certainly showed that off – but it began with corners which have barely been touched for decades.

Social change was on display as the walk kicked off in the back streets of Stoke Newington. Together with nearby Stamford Hill, this area has one of the capital’s biggest Jewish communities, and certainly the most visible one. But there’s also a large Muslim community here, too. Any bother? No sign of it in these leafy streets. In 2002, one of the founders of the local Muslim Jewish Forum told N16 magazine: “When they’re house-hunting, Muslims often choose a Jewish road, they see Jewish neighbourhoods as safe and peaceful.”

The neat, snug streets didn’t last for long, though, as N16 became E5 and I entered Clapton. If you’re not local to that area, it’s unlikely you’ll have heard of Springfield Park. But it’s a beautiful green oasis, with well-kept lawns and views out across north-east London. At the foot of the park is the River Lee, and Walthamstow Marshes, and a marina for boats to moor up in. The path crosses the river, and for a while you’re on the Walthamstow side of the river – or, once upon a time, the Essex side.

There’s very little marshland left in London – the last remnants of Greenwich Marshes vanished 20 years ago, Plumstead and Erith marshes are now Thamesmead. So Walthamstow Marsh is special, almost unique – and almost eerily quiet and still; well, until a rush of sirens from distant Lea Bridge Road. The wetlands now form a nature reserve, and with some of the land also used for grazing, there’s even a cattle grid on the route. Railway arches cut across the land, and it was here that aviation pioneer AV Roe tested his early aeroplane designs. A century on, this side of the Lee probably looks much the same as it did then. Across the river, back on the Clapton side, the Anchor and Hope pub looks tempting… but the High Hill Ferry which used to cross the Lee here, and gives its name to the street along the water, ceased many ago.

Eventually, it’s back across to Clapton, through Millfields Park, across the Lea Bridge Road and down to where the River Lee Navigation splits off – it’s this route the Capital Ring will follow. Outside another pub, the Princess of Wales, an old lady was having a bizarre row with a mum and kids. From someone’s back garden, a greyhound stuck its nose through the gate to see what I was doing. Back across the water again, and now on the edge of Hackney Marshes as the Lee Navigation continues ahead. Alongside are the Middlesex Filter Beds, once a part of London’s water supply; now a nature reserve.

Narrowboats are moored along the water, their owners stopping to chat – it dawned on me that it’d probably be very easy to live up here and completely disappear from the rest of civilisation… all wistful thoughts ended, though, with the discovery that the tow-path was flooded. A sign had warned of some flooding that was due to be fixed “by September 2009″. It was the end of October, and the contents of a Thames Water main were still streaming into the canal. There was no other option than to take a deep breath – and go for it, though the water…

Squelching on down the pathway, I reached the old Lesney toys factory at Homerton. Formed after World War II by schoolfriends Leslie Smith and Rodney Smith, Lesney began life as a die-casting factory, diversifying into toys in the 1950s. The Matchbox line was a roaring success, with the Lee Conservancy Road complex opening for business in the 1960s. The original Lesney firm folded in 1982, the Matchbox name was sold and production eventually moved overseas. With so much change in east London over recent decades, the Matchbox factory looms over the Lee like a relic – but not for much longer, as demolition teams have already bulldozed part of the site and are currently stripping out the rest.

Recently-built housing mixed with light industry on the other side of the Lee Navigation, but the greenery on my side came to an abrupt halt at a sign pointing out that there may be some diversions to the Capital Ring. This was the start of the Olympic Park. It was a hive of activity, but the 2012 media centre is shaping up to be a squat, ugly building. In fact, I didn’t quite twig it was part of the Olympic Park at first, thinking it might just be some kind of warehouse. No wonder the residents of Leabank Square, opposite, aren’t impressed. (“If we were across the canal from Hampstead Heath or Wimbledon Common – they would have been to scared to design something like this! But it’s only Hackney Wick – so let’s lay a tower block on its side and the scum locals will absolutely love it!”) The huge Olympic Stadium suddenly appears behind the media centre, and starts to dominate the view.

Further down, a familiar tune came into my head – I’d reached Lock Keepers’ Cottages, the home of Channel 4’s The Big Breakfast for nearly a decade. Now a private home, it’s dwarfed by the Olympic Stadium just behind. The cottages, by Old Ford Lock, only date back to the late 1940s, but in 60 years have already seen dramatic changes to their surroundings. The next few years will see even more change as a whole new district emerges behind the cottages. I’d last walked up here in June 2007, shortly before the bulldozers moved in. Blue hoardings block off the old Lee riverside path, which now leads up to the stadium. There’s enough in place now for the imagination to fill in the gaps on how this will look in 2012.

The path finally leaves the Lee at the Greenway – the walkway on top of the Northern Outfall Sewer. It’s shared with Olympic workers and construction traffic, and offers an uninterrupted view of the stadium and the complex work going on around it. There’s a diversion off the Greenway further down, onto Pudding Mill Lane, passing its eponymous DLR station, and across Bow Back River. Suddenly very familiar territory came into view – Stratford High Street. After waiting an eternity to cross the A11, something even more familiar appeared. I put my still damp-feet into motion and ran for a 108 bus home.

So now, the end’s in sight. If all goes to plan, there’s one more leg to go – Stratford to Charlton. It’s strange to think I’ve covered nearly 70 miles already. At least I know what to expect at the end of the final 10 – but there’s still plenty of exploring left to do in east London.

Me at greenwich.co.uk – last night at the council

After my last visit to a Greenwich Council meeting, I figured that some straightforward observations could be of value to someone, somewhere, so head over to greenwich.co.uk for last night’s stories from an SE10 perspective if that’s your bag. I hope it’s of some use.

One thing I’ll save for here, though, is that the council still doesn’t make it easy for the public to follow its meetings. Last time the list of members’ questions – what councillors have asked cabinet members, with their responses – hadn’t been given out in the public gallery, making it very hard to follow what was going on. The questions aren’t read out, but referred to by number, so if the councillor doesn’t want to follow their query up with a new question, then all you hear is the number of the question.

This month… still no lists of members’ questions up in the public gallery, even though they actually provide some of the more interesting and relevant topics on offer. And, for the journalist who doesn’t sit in the press seat, it’s where the stories come from, because its where senior councillors have to speak up for the policies they implement. I hope it’s just an oversight, rather than a fear of council tax payers actually discovering what’s being discussed down there.

Capital Ring 8: West Hendon to Stoke Newington

Most of my past Capital Ring wanderings seemed to make some kind of geographic sense to me. I can place Wandsworth on a map and know that if I keep going in one direction I’ll get to Wimbledon, and so on. Sure, getting there from Crystal Palace confused me a little bit, but that was about travelling between parts of south London which meant – and still mean – completely different things to me, and not being familiar with what lay in between.

But six hours’ strolling on a gorgeous autumn day took me on a wildly diverse 11 mile walk, where I still can’t quite work out how I started in the morning close to the end of the M1, and ended the afternoon in Stoke Newington. Outer London to inner London, west to (almost) east, with a familiar stretch in the middle through Highgate. London doesn’t always seem small on foot; but for me, this stretch of the Capital Ring shrunk the city a bit.

There’s not much to see in Hendon – unfortunately, the first couple of miles are dominated by the roar of roads. The peace of Hendon Park is put in context by noise from the M1, and a near-complete lack of signage (thanks Barnet Council) makes navigation through suburban streets tricky. The River Brent homes into view again, but the poorly-kept parks alongside it seem to be there just to offset the grimness of the adjacent North Circular Road. Two crumbling gazebos, remnants from a hotel demolished in 1974, seem to sum up the attitude here – cars first, people second. The ducks in the Brent have it better than they used to – the ponds in the Decoy, Brent Park (not to be confused with the retail estate in Neasden) were once there so they could be hunted. Not any more, and they seem to be the most content creatures for miles around.

The Brent splits in two here, and the path follows the Dollis Valley Greenwalk by Mutton Brook, underneath a CCTV camera and signs warning of pollution in the water. The noise from the A406 and A1 continues to dominate, until the route finally gets to Northway Gardens, Hampstead Garden Suburb. Once a brave social experiment in creating a classless community where all were equal, it’s now a highly desirable place to live. A Porsche pulled up alongside me as I wandered out of a Jewish mini-market bearing beigels and kosher chocolate, and people took tea in a cafe by the park. Immaculately-kept, big, suburban houses surround you here. Who lives in a house like this? Someone with more money than me, that’s for sure. The traffic noise fades here, as another form of transport starts to dominate thoughts.

Through an alley and into East Finchley station, looking as spotless as the day this big, bold building reopened in 1939, when the Northern Line first reached these parts. Above the Underground roundel, the lozenge of the LNER – whose steam trains last ran here from King’s Cross, Finsbury Park, Crouch End and Highgate in 1941 – remains in place, a reminder of the dramatic changes the Tube brought to these parts of north London. Above the platforms, an statue of an archer prepares to fire an arrow towards Highgate – but that’s something we’ll get to later. Next door is the surprisingly anonymous UK headquarters of McDonalds, strangely out of place in this aspirational corner of the capital.

The name “Dirthouse Wood” would sum up a couple of the places on this stretch so far – but not Cherry Tree Wood, which used to have that name and kicked off the change in fortune for this stroll. Children playing, couples strolling, rich autumnal colours everywhere. A little cafe was doing a roaring trade, and even though it’s a tiny little place, this park was enough to lift my mood. Better still was the words on a street sign upon leaving – “London Borough of Haringey“. Finally, I could put the map back in my bag, because the Capital Ring signs were back again.

Suddenly, familiarity. Six months ago, I’d met a pal for a walk along the disused Finsbury Park-Highgate Northern Heights rail line – where those old steam trains ran to East Finchley, as well as round to Alexandra Palace. We’d got lost in Highgate Wood and almost failed to find our way to Alexandra Palace. And here I was at the spot where we’d got stuck – at the entrance to Highgate Wood. I could definitely relax for a while. The approach to the wood passes over the old Alexandra Palace line, with the bridge turned into a mini-park. Peering down from the bridge though…. there wasn’t much to see. Now that was why we’d got lost.

Like much of the southern stretch of the Capital Ring, the northern stretch meanders through what’s left of long-gone forests. Highgate Wood was once part of the great Forest of Middlesex. Full of well-to-do families taking the kids for a half-term walk, it, and its sister Queen’s Wood, are wonderful places to wander around. The steep exit from Queen’s Wood certainly made me feel like I’d got some exercise. From here, it’s up a hill onto the Highgate Road, and then onto that disused rail line to Finsbury Park.

When the Northern Line was extended to East Finchley, and onto Edgware and High Barnet, the job wasn’t completed. Among the bits that didn’t get done were converting the Northern Heights line to part of the Northern Line, linking it up with the old Moorgate-Finsbury Park Tube service (which in itself became a mainline route in 1976). Tube trains from Moorgate to Alexandra Palace were meant to start running in 1940 and much of the work was already done – the old station at Highgate was rebuilt, and a start was made on electrifying the lines. World War II intervened, work stopped in 1940, and even the steam trains which were still running along the line were cut back. After the war, the Tube extension scheme was scrapped, and the old steam service limped on until 1954, when the line and its stations closed to passengers. The rebuilt Highgate station still sits derelict above the Tube station, an eerie monument to a future that never was.

In 1972, the tracks were lifted, and the route was gradually adopted by Haringey and Islington councils as the Parkland Walk. Some of the fixtures and fittings installed by London Transport remain in place, the platforms at Crouch End are still there, and a never-used substation at Crouch Hill is now a youth club. But nearly four decades after it saw its last trains, shuttling empty to and from a depot, the Parkland Walk has gone back to nature. A group of children collected worms as joggers passed by. On my last visit it was crowded with Sunday walkers. On a Monday afternoon it was a peaceful oasis above north London. Given the choice between the Parkland Walk and having a railway back, I wonder what locals would opt for?

The sight of Arsenal’s Emirates Stadium, looking like an extra-terrestrial invader to the south, was a reminder of how close to central London I was getting. Finsbury Park’s somewhere most non-north Londoners only visit when there’s something on – like the late, lamented Rise festival – but this great slab of green is a terrific big city park; large enough to explore yet small enough not to get lost in. From here, it was across the road, into another borough – Hackney – and alongside the New River.

First constructed in 1613, it takes drinking water from Hertfordshire into the capital. SIgns warn you that this is north London’s drinking water, so not to let your dog do its business on the banks. It’s unnavigable, still, and clear… and looks bleak on its raised banks heading towards Stamford Hill. It ends in two reservoirs by Lordship Road, where I was greeted by the sight of a dead rat. Just as unsettling – the Capital Ring signs had vanished from this stretch. I took a mini-detour trying to get back on track. A white minibus pulled up alongside me, deposited a very, very small orthodox Jewish boy by the side of the road, who then stood looking lost and confused as the bus drove off, before finally realising after 30 seconds or so that he was meant to walk home down Queen Elizabeth’s Walk. That was the way I should have gone, but I found Clissold Park all the same. I could have done without seeing the day’s second rat, alive and well and darting out of one of the ponds, though.

It was only 4pm, but the sun was already low in the sky, treating hordes of families and kids to another array of autumn colours. A big cafe, built in a 1790s mansion house, was full of customers. From here it’s along Stoke Newington Church Street to end this section of walk at Abney Park Cemetery.

This is a real hidden gem, chaotically laid-out and largely overgrown, with fascinating headstones telling stories of this area’s past as a haven for Protestant dissenters. The most notable graves are of Salvation Army founders William and Catherine Booth, just by the Church Street entrance. An unexploded World War II bomb is believed to be buried somewhere in the cemetery.

Outside the cemetery, on Stamford Hill, nature was back at bay again. With the light fading, it was time to head home. The next leg would throw me into even more unfamiliar territory – before giving me a glimpse of home. But I’d learned more than enough for one day.

Capital Ring 7: Harrow-on-the-Hill to west Hendon

It’s been a long time… um, since I actually did this walk. Well, about three months – after which I spent six weeks mostly travelling, and then over a month, er, forgetting to post this. But I’m digging my walking shoes out this week to have a pop at completing the Capital Ring, so it’s time to refresh my memory and show off what came before. In this case – off the Metropolitan Line at Harrow-on-the-Hill, a walk up a steep hill, through some woods, a graveyard, and back up to an amazing view across London.





From St Mary’s Church, Harrow-on-the-Hill, it’s down through the famous old school’s playing fields, plotting an uncertain path through beautifully-kept sports grounds. From here, it’s out the across the only stile on the Capital Ring and around the back of Northwick Park Hospital, taking us into the borough of Brent, and the place where all London’s sparrows seem to be living nowadays.






And then it’s proper 1930s suburbia once again – through Northwick Park itself and underneath South Kenton station, shiny new London Underground signs not very well disgusing the fact that this used to be a manky Silverlink station. Before Preston Park station is the green space it’s named after, a pleasant and, once again, perfectly-kept little spot. The same can’t be said for the streets by the station, but then nestled between some semis is the entrance to somewhere quite extraordinary.

Fryent Country Park is the kind of rugged place you don’t expect to find sitting behind suburban homes. I’d never really thought of north-west London as being a particularly green area, but with open fields, ponds and woods, it’s an interesting place to explore. It’s easy to imagine getting lost here, although the rattle of the nearby Jubilee line shatters the illusion a little. From here, Wembley Stadium provides an optical illusion, with planes coming into Heathrow looking as if they’re flying under the arch.







The back streets of Kingsbury beckon next – we’re still in the shadow of Wembley Stadium here, before St Andrew’s Church beckons. Moved from Wells Street, Fitzrovia, in the 1930s, it replaced an older church, which remains in a sorry state next door. The smashed-up graveyard was a heartbreaking sight.





Another North London gem then appeared – the Welsh Harp reservoir, looking blue and idyllic in the sunset.



The Welsh Harp marked the point where the Ring enters the borough of Barnet – fiefdom of controversial Conservative London Assembly member Brian Coleman, currently its mayor. So here was where the signage started to dry up again, and a closed-down Barnet Council youth centre came into view. Once, this was probably alive with the sounds of young people learning to sail – I’d seen this earlier on the route in Wimbledon Park, a teacher good-naturedly pitting her wits against some lively kids. Instead, it was boarded up, presumably awaiting arsonists or vandals. Not the kind of thing you expect to see in a “regeneration area“.




Finally, the day’s destination – the thrills of West Hendon Broadway. From here, I could have continued to Hendon station and got the train, but with Oyster pay-as-you-go still not accepted, it was easier to jump on a bus to Kilburn and pick up the Tube. Today, I’m returning there, picking up the Ring again.

Click here for all the past Capital Ring posts.

So that’s what he’s upset about

Too many words said on this nasty piece of work already, so….

(Via cassetteboy)