This is how the Tower of London’s moat looked when I visited back in August 2014, a sea of poppies to mark the centenary of the start of the First World War.
The installation was called ‘Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red’ and it remained in place between July and November 2014. Paul Cummins was the artist and Tom Piper designed the concept behind it, which was a magnificent sight in the Tower’s moat.
I stayed at this hotel near to London City airport following my flight back with British Airways from Florence. For a time it looked like my flight would be cancelled, or at best, it would have arrived too late to land at London City and so would have been diverted to Southend Airport. I sent the hotel an e-mail asking if I could check-in late and they responded quickly saying that they’d do the check-in there and then on-line, so I could just pick up my keycard which they had put under the desk for the night porter. All very professional.
I got there in good time in the end, thanks to British Airways, and the receptionist was the friendly and helpful staff member who had sent the e-mail to me. This is a relatively cheap hotel, but the welcome seemed authentic and I was pleased with the bargain price of £33 including breakfast. It’s only an eleven-minute walk from London City Airport, so convenient for these late arriving flights.
The room was clean and to brand standard, perfectly sufficient for a one-night stay.
I went down to breakfast and I was the only one there, so at least it was peaceful. There were cereals, pastries, yoghurts and a selection of meats. This was sufficient before my train journey back to Norwich, with the orange juice and coffee being helpful as well, particularly the coffee for that little energy burst. When I checked-out at around 09:00 the breakfast area had around thirty people in, so it was either a coach party or perhaps a flight load of passengers who were on one of the cancelled flights from the previous day from London City airport. I imagine that the breakfast experience for them wasn’t quite as relaxed as mine was.
Anyway, I thought I’d have a little look at TripAdvisor to see what people thought about this 81-room hotel and the reviews are quite reasonable. I mentioned above that I walked this in eleven minutes, but some reviews complained it was a long walk, people managed to take 15, 20 and 35 minutes. I don’t know what the one taking 35 minutes was doing.
One person didn’t like their toilet and must have been told to use the one on the ground floor, which isn’t ideal, although certainly isn’t illegal. I don’t like the comparison with easyHotel, which is one of the few hotel chains that I hold in entire contempt. Which might be unfair since I’ve never stayed with them….
“Im sure prisoner’s get better service better breakfast. Rooms more then basic think easyhotel – class customer service. First room toilet didnt work fully booked normaly by law a hotel would have to reacomerdate u somewhere else at there cost. Not here so no toilet facility apart from going down three floors in lift.”
Another guest was pleased:
“One member of staff in particular was aggressive and combative”.
I never manage to find aggressive staff in hotels (well, bar that one in Los Angeles a few years ago, which I must write about at some point), but it’d certainly liven the check-in experience up.
“In my 36 years alive on this earth, this hotel has to be in the top 3 worst stays ever, in fact i would have rather have slept in my car and woke up and jumped in the Thames had i known it was that bad.”
Hmmm, sounds like they didn’t find this their perfect stay….
Another guest complained that the place was “full of builders” and there are lots of problems with noise, which I can imagine must be a problem at weekends. Having lived near to this hotel a few years ago, the area isn’t the most salubrious, but I thought that the staff did well to manage everything. To be honest, I was just pleased to be able to get back to London before the curfew at City Airport and get to the hotel.
This is the first time that I’ve had chance to go on the new train between Norwich and London Liverpool Street, I seem to have caught the older rolling stock over the last couple of months. The train was the 11:30 from Norwich, which seemed relatively quiet, even though it was taking passengers from the 12:00 service which had been cancelled. The new train has twelve carriages, and they’ve been made by Stadler in Switzerland.
A screen showing customers where everything is on the train.
It’s possible to see all the way down the train, but there are closeable see-through doors along the carriages. The design of the seats is clunky and rushed, the heater unit on the side is in the way of customers, as is the table’s central support which is just where knees might otherwise go. There is now just one power point between two people (unless one has a USB) and for reasons that I cannot comprehend, plugs don’t fit into many of the power sockets as the base of the seat is in the way. I was able to plug my laptop into the power sockets under the seats on the other side of the table, but only because there was no-one sitting there. It’s an unfortunate bodged job from Greater Anglia, arguably unacceptable given the price increases that they’ve introduced which should have meant they had more than enough money to do this properly.
This slightly irritated me, some idiot putting their feet on what are nearly new seats. Fortunately, it also irritated the guard who politely, but firmly, told the passenger to stop this behaviour when he saw her.
And safely into London Liverpool Street, all on time.
The old rolling stock on the left and the new rolling stock on the right.
Taking everything into account, I prefer the older train. It’s more comfortable, it’s better designed and I think it’s more functional. However, there are two caveats with that, the older train isn’t easy for those with disabilities and it also doesn’t hold as many people as the new train, so these are two big advantages with the upgrade. It’s all very nice that money has been spent on new trains, but I’m hoping that they’re taken in for an interior refit soon to try and give the finish a slightly classier and more functional edge.
I’ve never seen one of these machines, but it appears that the company operates around 75 of them, primarily in London, but also at some transport hubs. They’re a way for customers to place in foreign coins and notes and get back out UK pounds, or another currency. They even accept pre-Euro currency, so an opportunity to get rid of some old French francs.
The rates aren’t though the best. 1,000 Polish zloty are currently worth just over £200 (which is good, as they were lower a few weeks ago and I’m off there next), but this machine would pay £175 (or just £120 if coins were paid in). Looking at companies who provide buy-back, they give back from £195 at best (currency on-line group to £181 at worst (RBS). However, for convenience, the rates aren’t too bad in the scale of things and the banks don’t generally accept coins at all.
It’s a marvellous idea though and I might look at my little currency reserves, which are very small, as there doesn’t seem to be a minimum transaction size. A very good idea and the transparency of having the rates on their web-site is also useful.
Despite living by a DLR station for nearly two years, I never got bored of sitting at the front and pretending to drive the train….. One day I’ll manage not to find such ridiculous things so interesting….
Anyway, here are the photos from a December journey pretending to be a train driver, part of a journey from Canary Wharf to Bank.
This (it’s in .pdf format) is apparently out of copyright and it’s the guide book published by the Ministry of Works in 1961. Quite a lot has changed over the last sixty years and I hadn’t realised that the Crown Jewels at the time were in Wakefield Tower, which must have been quite a challenge in crowd management, although not so much in centuries gone by when they were in the Martin Tower.
Also, the Tower of London used to be free of charge on Saturdays and Bank Holidays (although there was a small charge to see the Crown Jewels), it’s now much more expensive and I’m not sure that they ever have any free admission days. The description of the rooms in the various buildings is now so different that I’ve been unable to even ascertain which room is which.
The Tower of London has an interesting concept to mark the contribution of those who had fought in the First World War, which was to merge photos from the time with a recent and symbolic image. The above image is the original and the idea is to take a modern photo at the same place, but with a different person, although someone connected with the original image.
This is the modified image, with a boy scout taking the place of the boy in the original photo, but he’s standing in the same location.
I was sufficiently intrigued to go and take my own photo at the same site. This really brings to life the past when museums do this, a reminder that the very ground that visitors are standing on has so much history from across so many generations. Not least, because of the contribution that these men and boys gave, there’s a feeling of ‘standing on the shoulders of giants’.
If there was any doubt that I really need to get out more, it’s my excitement at this, one of the MONIAC (Monetary National Income Analogue Computer) machines. I’ve seen photos of this numerous times before back when studying economics, and it’s a pre-computer method of measuring how the UK national economy functioned by changing various inputs. It was designed by William Phillips, the same man for which the Phillips curve is named (a link I hadn’t realised until I was enlightened by Wikipedia).
Wikipedia also tells me that there were around twelve to fourteen machines built, most of which appear to have survived and are dotted around the world. The one at the Science Museum is located in the mathematics sections and was donated to them by the LSE in 1995.
Water would flow through the machine and it was possible to work out how to try to get an equilibrium in the economy, with these models apparently being surprisingly successful.
There seemed to be a fair few exhibits at the Science Museum which had a rather tenuous link to, well, science. This door case seems to be something better suited to the Museum of London, but it’s here as the museum say that it’s a mathematical shape following the rules of proportion.
The door case dates from the eighteenth century and it was saved before the building was demolished in 1912, to be replaced with a larger and more substantial property. The London County Council, who were the ground landlord, noted in the early twentieth century:
“In the case of No. 56, no part of the original building is in existence. The only external feature of interest is an 18th-century door case, constructed in wood (illustrated in Plate 72). The designer has effectively used Roman Ionic columns with entablatures, to support a bold pediment, below which has been placed a semi-circular fanlight to give light to the passage. The interior is uninteresting.”
They also published a partial list of residents of the building:
In 1700 and 1703 Sir Thos. Millington.
In 1708 and 1723 John Richardson.
Before 1730 to 1731. Geo. Baker.
1732–1739. Dr. Thos. Rundle.
1740–1755. “W. Murray.”
1756–1758. “Chas. Pratt.”
1759–1761. John Rayner.
1762–1769. Thos. Kinnaston.
1770–1784. Sir Walter Rawlinson.
1785–1788. S. Ewer.
1789–1793. — Heyman.
1794–1802. Mrs. Lee.
1803– Jas. White.
I’m assuming that the Thomas Millington was the physician, notable for being one of those who dissected the body of King William III in 1702. Millington died in 1703, but I have no idea whether he was responsible for the addition of the door case to the property, which I suspect he might have rented (the property, not the door case). Anyway, science or not, it’s an interesting reminder of the London which is no longer there.
This gorgeous little number at the Science Museum is a Merman, which is a cross between a fish, a bird and a monkey. It dates from around the nineteenth century, although its origins are unclear, it might be Dutch or Japanese. A merman is a male mermaid, so the variety of items that come into this definition are quite broad.
It’s not an uninteresting exercise to look back on old newspapers, where stories were still circulating from supposedly credible sources that mermans did exist. Reported throughout the national media in May 1739 was this story:
“In Vigo, in Spain, some fishermen lately took on that coast a sort of monster, or merman, five foot and a half from its foot to its head, which is like that of a goat. It has a long beard and mustachoes, a black skin, somewhat hairy, a very long neck, short arms and hands longer and bigger than they ought to be in proportion to the rest of the body, long fingers like those of a man, with nails likes claws, very long toes joined like the feet of a duck and the heel furnished with fins.”
Sounds a lovely thing to find….
