Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Tragical Mystery Tour

When you got out for the evening, and then happen upon a late-opening bar just around the corner, and you take the camera, you get this:
Somewhere in deepest Notting Hill, the booze is flowing.

Then there's the morning:
Something you'll never see in a beer ad.

Abbey Road (yes, that one) is the desination so it's through Brunel's masterpiece - one of them, anyway - Paddington Station.

And thence to Kilburn Park Station. As the Bakerloo line is 100 years old this year, it's a fair bet that this buiding is of similar vintage.

Good time for lunch but, sadly, not in this lovely pub. The only grub on offer here is Asian - normally a very good bet but not with a hangover. Next door did normal sarnies and specialised in exploding ketchup which was fun.

We passed by this road which only gets a mention because the band 'Kilburn and the High Roads', featuring the legendary Ian Drury who went on to form The Blockheads, was a massive influence on the early punk movement. And we're doing music today.

Nestling in the lovely borough of Camden we find this.

So lovely is Camden, the residents quite happily live in these - built by the same people that do the prisons by the look of it.

The Abbey Road studios, currently owned by EMI.

THAT zebra crossing. In the wet, dodging traffic and avoiding the gaggle of other tourists. The things we do for art!

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Hammersmith

It is a law of nature that the trendier an area is, the less likely it is to get a decent haircut - and certainly at a decent price.

A decent haircut is; The place has old steel and leather chairs and the walls are covered in pictures of faded page 3 / topless models. There is a peg to hang your coat on. The barber is a dodgy Italian with a dodgier moustache and wears a red coat. He asks you how much you want off the back and sides and then discusses last night's footy. You pony up ten quid sans tip and leave

A decent haircut is NOT; Poncy designer decor with poncy plastic weird-shaped chairs and the walls are covered in poncy bleedin 'art'. A 'receptionist' takes your coat and offers you a mocha-latte-poncy-drinky-thingy you wouldn't give your dog. The puddle-jumping 'stylist' has hightlights, extensions, visible piercings that make you sick and invisible ones that would have been better applied by the Spanish Inquisition, if you ask me, who discusses the latest Big Brother eviction. You pony up over 40 quid and he bursts into tears when you tell him where he can shove the tip.

So, hair being out of hand, I shuffled off to Hammersmith.

Hammersmith is not the most salubrious of London's boroughs. It's extremely pedestrian hostile, it has a few shops and two tube stations. It does, however, have, in my opinion, on of the best buildings in London - because it looks like a ship!

The building that looks like a ship.

It's difficult to find a position to take a decent photo of this - which kind of defeats the object up to a point - but it does look good.

And then there's this:
Was once the Hammersmith Odeon.

Starting life as a cinema, this featured large in my youth as one of the best music venues in town. I saw the Clash, Sham 69 and Blondie here in the 70's. I also, to my shame, saw Camel - think progressive rock, with a flute - shudder, on their 'Rain Dances' tour!

Now it's the Hammersmith Apollo and you will notice, if you squint, that the Little Britain stage show is on. Kim is on the ticket trail as we speak.

Hammersmith can consider itself done.

Well, almost. There are a couple of very nice riverside pubs near Hammersmith Bridge, something we discovered on the way to Kew. For the Saturday evening, we dropped in for an excellent curry next to Ladbrooke Grove station and jumped on a tube to check out said establishments. I would like to report that this was one trip that wasn't prompted by a chick-flick but, sadly, The Blue Anchor (and there's nothing wrong with this place in itself) was featured in 'Sliding Doors' - a movie that, quite frankly, I can't be arsed to watch.

We left Hammersmith just before midnight and headed back to Notting Hill in the vain hope that we might find just one place that remained open during the witching hour. The bouncers of Ladbrooke Grove have just got it all wrong. Attempting entry to a right dodgy bar next to the station prompted the response, 'You are welcome to come in but the bar's closed. However, there is a place open...' followed by directions. Where was the kidney-punch? The 'You little #@@#@!!!' followed by the damn good kicking? Jeez, they're going soft.

Not sure exactly where this place was, we dropped into the flat and fired up good ol' google - and it was right around the corner. Entry was hailed with a cheery wave and 'Welcome' and, when the place finally closed we we're thanked for our business!

I am writing to my MP forthwith - and probably the Times, too - to suggest that all bouncers in the area are promptly dispatched to New Zealand for some proper thuggery lessons the bloody wimps.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Kew 2 - The Gardens

Now we're in the gardens proper. This is also home to KSA (Kew Space Agency).

The Princess of Wales House has 4 different climate habitats and is dedicated to Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha rather the more recent mad one - though Princess Battiness herself did open it.

The Giant Water Lily. It is said that you could put a 3 year old child on one of its leaves. It won't support the kid's weight, of course, but it's funny as hell watching the brat half drown; 'No, Johnny, it's perfectly safe - just like in the fairy tales'.

Cactuses, or something.

The Willy Plant.

My water feature is better than your water feathure.

Ooo, an even better water feature.

The Palm House with some nice flower beds.

Inside the Palm House you can climb up to a gallery and look down on people.

Roses and old people. Both attract the birds.

Some pretty flowers who's name escapes me.

The Kew Pagoda.

The Temperate House.

And a detail of the Temperate House which is a fine old Victorian building. (Not Victorian in the sense of the rather dull Australian state, you understand, Victorian in the sense of the old biddy who used to be queen.

Some temperate flowers. How do we know? They are in the Temperate House.

Some Temperate nobbly things.

A sort of Japanesy thingy.

And a Japanese garden, woot.

Aha, a folly. Land owners used to build these things in their gardens. They are sort of little buildings in the style of something or other (a lot of clasical stuff as in this example). They would be put in certain vantage points around the place and some of them had hermits invited to live in them to spice it up a bit.

Home the quick way. Kew tube station - and it's got a pub!

Monday, August 14, 2006

Kew 1 - The Thames

It was a nice day so off to Kew Gardens. There are a few ways of getting there, some quicker than others. We went the REALLY slow way, a boat up the river - takes about 1 1/2 hours...

Westminister Pier is a god place to start. There is a big gold eagle and that blue boat with the red and white funnel is a pub, so that's alright.

Across the river is the Millenium Wheel in front of the Shell building (the oil company - it doesn't actually look like a shell).

Back up-stream, we'll be going past parliament.

There it is. The red tents on the left are where the Lords entertain and the green ones on the right are for the commons..

Dunno what this buildig is but it looks pretty cool with the pointy-end of a ship coming out of it.

If you're a swarthy foreign-looking chappie with a British passport and your door comes caving in the middle of the night followed by some big buggers with guns, chances are they came from that building on the left, home of MI5.

If, on the other hand, you're a swarthy foreign-looking chappie without a British passport (Australians take note) and your door comes caving in the middle of the night followed by some big buggers with guns, chances are they came from here, home of James Bond. This is right on the river so that the atomic-powered speed boats have somewhere to land when they come shooting out of the side of the building. People think that Q works in the basement. Not true. His workshop is in a tunnel under the river. Now you know that, I'll have to shoot you.

This bridge has 8 bronze women, each representing something about Britain that is great. This is 'architecture' which you can tell by the perty firmness of her breasts.

Battersea Power Station. Grade 2 listed building and a fine sight along the river.

The Peace Pagola in Battersea Park. Built by Bhuddist monks, when every city in the world has one, there will be world peace. So they had better get a move-on then.

Another pretty bridge - Hammersmith, I think.

One of the boats that used to carry cargo up and down the river. Quite a few have been restored and still sail around. This one's parked up outside one of the new, and very expensive, riverside apartment blocks.

Some more old river boats, this time outside a very pretty church which, apparently, once held the world record for the number of weddings in a year.

What's better than a riverside pub?.

Two riverside pubs!

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Shepherds Bush

Posterity will, no doubt, say 'What!', or something very much like it, regarding this post. Who has something to say about Shepherds Bush?

Well, it is where the BBC comes from. That's it, really. Let's see, shall we...

The center-piece of Shepherds Bush is the green.

On a pleasant evening, the locals rub shoulders with the winos and street crims.

But there is a Walkabout Downunder Pub - a little bit of Australia in London - whos owners are just as cheap as those bludging gits, Sydney Airport. 2 quid to get in! And that's before you buy a drink. Earth to Australia; you don't charge people to get into a pub.

Shepherds Bush Empire - premier music venue and, judging by the predominatly black audience, it looks like soul night. That and it's what written on the door.

There's only so much blog you can wring out of Shepherds Bush. Looks like curry time.

Not forgetting the post-curry pub-crawl. Sorted.


Sadly, there are things that happen which are unphotographable. That last pic was of a pub called the Mother Black Cap - no doubt a reference to some sort of mushroom, possibly of the magic sort. This place could be a whole lot better. It seems to be trying to be all things to all local trendies. A couple of scenes of the movie 'Whithnail & I' were filmed here and the pub has been dining out on it ever since - it was made almost 20 years ago, guys, get over it. But the real problem with this place is their approach to music. On Thursday nights there is a live band - well, more of a number of musos than a band - and they are all just bloody awful. Can you say; whiney, whiney, Jamie Bluntey? I'm not sure if it is intended to suppliment the depressive effects of alcohol but it certainly works that way. The night we were in they had a DJ. I've got nothing fundamental against these guys - other than the pretention; you're a DJ, you play other people's music, that's it, you're not important - but, in this case, the place was almost empty at 10.0pm on a Saturday night! Something very wrong, methinks - and time to move on.

So we sauntered off to the Market Tavern but on our way found, to our delight, one of life's great joys. A new pub! The Pelican. And it's very nice. Great decor with a seedy underbelly. You could live in a place like this. And I took a few piccies for the blog; 4 to be precise. 3, sadly didn't come out at all. They always look great on the camera but, until you upload them, you never know. And the 4th, well, we'll never know for other reasons. I had just taken a pic of the bar with the great big chandelier thingy when some greasy git sidles over. It is impolite, it seems, to take photos without asking. Not of the bar, you understand, but of his 'friend' who was sitting at it! So why didn't his 'friend' come over to object? I never got a real answer to this but can only speculate that said 'friend' was either an unusual looking member of a long lost Papua New Guinean tribe who was afraid that I had stolen his soul or, far, far more likely round here, he was a D-list celeb (probably an early Big Brother evictee) who's new-found 'celebrity' status has gone straight to his common sense.

After that, we went home.

That's how you get an entire blog post out of Shepherds Bush - don't write about it.