Unchartered Streets
@uncharteredstreets
London musings by Matt Haynes; also occasional depository for goings on at Sarah Records and suppository for what’s supposed to have gone on. UNCHARTERED STREETS:
Few people know that when the last ice sheet retreated from Leytonstone it left these “glacial erratics” scattered along Church Lane. [@lucycmunro.bsky.social (on left) provides sense of scale; Poundland (in distance) provides sense of perspective – it used to be a British Home Stores.] #Leytonstone
More Epping Forest: the Rodney “Gipsy” Smith memorial near Waterworks Corner, and a hollow tree and a bit of a tree graveyard somewhere towards Loughton; it’s very easy to lose track of where you are, despite the Central Line being just… over there… somewhere. #EppingForest #Walthamstow #Loughton
The other thing about growing up in East London was that my Grandad was Father Christmas. He worked in Carpets at Bearmans department store and, every December, when the real Father Christmas was on lunch, he had to take over. And he absolutely hated it. I’m not sure the kids enjoyed it much [1/2]
If you don’t believe the cow thing, check out the top-left image in this poster. THERE WERE COWS. On the right is Whipps Cross Lido, scene – allegedly – of at least one bit of bovine blundering. The last image is more of a puzzle, as that’s not Brisbane Road and Orient have never won anything. #LOFC
The thing about growing up in East London is that you start thinking it’s perfectly normal to have a chunk of ancient woodland at the end of the road and to occasionally find a cow in your front garden. It’s only later on in life – when you meet people from, say, Balham – that you realise it [1/2]
So, yeah… thing is, when we asked you to paint a mural illustrating the history of Palmers Green, we were thinking you’d probably start with, well, I guess Broomfield House, and then maybe the coming of the railway… we didn’t realise you were going to be so… thorough… #palmersgreen #broomfieldpark
For some people, a scorching hot Saturday in July means strawberries at Wimbledon and a jug of Pimm’s. For those with more refined tastes, however, it means a fry-up in East Barnet and a walk along Pymmes Brook, from Jack’s Lake (pic. 2) to the North Circular at Silver Street (pic. 3). [1/2]
Maps notwithstanding, were Bromley really a London club? I'm not so sure. So we detoured to look at their ground and… it had a bloody horse in front of it! A horse!!! Not a police horse in riot gear to keep the hooligans in order, a… civilian horse. This horse. [2/3]
So, Principality Building Society… although you initially accepted that I was not a robot, you now think that, in the five minutes it’s taken me to compose my question to you, I might have BECOME a robot… is that correct? And does this happen much, in your experience? [1/2]
The railway arches south of the Elephant are home to many mysterious goings-on. Some we should probably draw a discreet veil over. Or possibly a galvanised-steel roller shutter. But some are the Orbit Brewery taproom where, as the sun went down, [1/2]
… and then, somewhere on the road from Twickenham to Teddington, everything suddenly faded to black and white, and we felt a strange chill in the air… [Still walking from Shepherd’s Bush to Sunbury…] #StrawberryHill #Twickenham #Teddington
So, as you can see, this stone pillar on Brentford High Street commemorates three local events: Cassivellaunus’s confrontation with Julius Caesar in 54BC, the resolution of King Offa’s dispute with the Bishop of Worcester in 781, and Edmund Ironside’s victory over Cnut in 1016. [1/2]
No checkpoints yet, but you know when you’re across, as the first house on the other side looks like this. After that, it’s security gates and personalised number plates all the way to Weybridge. All colours are real. [2/2] #SunburyOnThames #Hampton
After Reform’s banning of the Pride flag from their council buildings because (to quote Zia Yusuf) “flags should represent everyone, not divide”, the new Reform council in Havering, where we were the other week, has cancelled the borough’s annual Pride celebration and will only fly flags that [1/2]
Among Bromley’s many other attractions is this bit of rock from Lochinver in north-west Scotland. “One of the oldest rocks in the British Isles”, according to the plaque, it was presented to the people of Bromley in the year 2000. [1/3]
On our walk to Keston we passed this tribute to local lad Charles Darwin in Bromley town centre. Sadly, someone’s chucked silver paint around Chuck’s legs and feet. Probably a Reform supporter made angry by the thought of evolving. And B&Q, presumably, were out of red-white-and-blue paint. #Bromley
All I’m saying is, in the course of ten miles, this (pic. 1) will become this (pic. 2). And, on the way, it will experience Catford. [River Ravensbourne in Padmall Wood, Keston, and entering the Thames at Greenwich.] #Keston #Bromley #RiverRavensbourne #Deptford #Greenwich #Catford #PadmallWood
that doesn’t mean that that’s not where the source is, though, and on Sunday we walked to Keston – which is where the woods are – to take this photo of what’s confusingly called Caesar’s Well, but don’t get me started on that… [2/2] #Keston #Bromley #RiverRavensbourne #Deptford #DeptfordCreek
Even those who didn’t get beyond the first paragraph of my book about Deptford (see attached) will know that Julius Caesar didn’t discover the source of Deptford Creek (aka the River Ravensbourne) while on a camping trip in the woods just south of Bromley; [1/2]
Farage’s mob say in London you can’t set foot outside your house without encountering a mugger; whereas I say in London you can’t set foot inside a clump of trees without encountering the moated remains of a medieval manor house. #ScadburyManor #Chislehurst
Right, I can see what you’ve done wrong here, Bexley – you’ve only gone and ordered the top of your spire in metric, and the bottom in imperial, haven’t you? #Bexley
On her way through Hall Place Gardens that morning, Fiona suddenly realised that life on Earth would never be the same again. #Bexley #Crayford #Bexleyheath #HallPlace #RiverCray #QueensBeasts
So, on the right is the Darent, flowing down to the Thames. And on the left – trust me – is the Cray. In other words, this is where the Cray empties into the Darent and ceases to be. And we’ve just spent 35 minutes walking from Dartford station to not quite see it doing it. #Dartford #RiverCray
Kent has one of England’s most beautiful stretches of coastline. I think it’s somewhere round Broadstairs. #Dartford #RiverCray
I call this one “Horses”. After the Patti Smith album. #Dartford #RiverCray
In its standard form, the Union Jack is twice as long as it is tall. The uprights in a typical set of railings are not. So whatever you might think about the politics of the Right’s more artistic elements, you really do have to acknowledge their… what’s the word… oh, let’s just stick with stupidity.
So, yes, on Saturday we walked up the River Cray from mouth to source. Which meant, sadly, briefly crossing the border into Kent – Dartford, to be precise, home of the Great British Bin. #Dartford #RiverCray #Kent
Another photo that pops up from time to time is this one of them sitting in a garden, and I think that garden belonged to a house on Camberwell Grove... so maybe you were always destined to end up where you have, and we're not all just floating aimlessly in an ocean of meaninglessness after all...
... and speaking of wonderful things, as I was, Denmark Hill station was also, of course, back in 1991, the location for this rare Field Mice photoshoot… [Photo by Richard Bellia] #TheFieldMice #SarahRecords #DenmarkHill #Camberwell