Circular Thoughts on Radio

As I've said here before, I'm sometimes accused of being a Radio 4 Bore, one of those people who endlessly goes on about what a varied, stimulating thing the BBC's national speech network is. I'm not a "bore" at all. I'm just discerning.

In contrast, I'm not much of a telly person these day (not like in The Golden Age of Television When I Was Young [TM], oh, no.......) but we sat through tonight's Ian Hislop's Age of the Do Gooders on BBC 2. Now at he risk of being simplistic, ithis was BBC Televisoin managing to be BBC Radio 4 with pictures.......

The Age of the Do Gooders reminded at how off the wall telly can be when it's done with a bit of thought and intelligence. (Mind you, having sat through The Apprentice the other evening because it covered tourism, anything else would have seemed stimulating!)

I was interested to see him cover the Victorian illustrator George Cruikshank, whose house I include when I do tours in Camden. It lies at the end of Mornington Crescent, a Tube Station which has its own special place in Radio 4 lore.

And with that circular bit of thinking, I'll take my leave of you again!

A Word in Defence of London Underground

Many people will have seen, or rather heard, the recordings released for the first time at the inquest into the 7 July Terrorist Murders in London.

If you haven’t some examples are at:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-11518501

and

http://www.itv.com/news/77-bombings-inquest07608/

As so often happens with the media, journalists in search of a sound-bit type quote get emotionally charged friends and family to become angry and to use words like “shambolic” which are succinct but frankly inaccurate.

I think the staff of London Underground are getting very unfair treatment here. The "confusion" was very soon after the explosions (of which there were three at disparate locations within 90 seconds) and I think that no organisation could realistically have reacted differently. It may be that people would prefer staff to react in an excited frantic and dramatic way, they way we see on television or in the cinema. In fact, people remaining calm might not make a “good story” but it is the best way of dealing with a situation.

Indeed, some of the stories which have emerged about help, compassion and heroism from some of the station staff deserve a higher profile than this.

There were a lot of heroes that day. And I defy anyone to have reacted better, other than with that wonderful thing, “the benefit of hindsight”.

Clerkenwet!

Last night I did an evening walk in the lovely, atmospheric Clerkenwell area on London. It’s a genuinely fascinating area, home to such varied delights as the New River (not new, not a River), the Finsbury Health Centre, Saint John’s Gate and some K4s and K6s thrown in for good measure.

But oh, what an evening for weather! It just just bucketed it down for the whole two hours and the legendary Ian Jelf Umbrella was actually of practical use for once. Now, despite our country’s reputation for bad weather, this is actually a surprisingly rare occurrence I find on walks. Traditionally, I recall two such occasions, one in Rugby and the other in the Moseley area of Birmingham. But this one definitely goes up into that category, I’m sad to say.

Luckily, I had an extremely tenacious group whose desire to learn more about the place left me staggered!

Thank you, dear member of SPICE Adventure London!

Caffs

I've been meaning to do a piece for the Blog for ages about caffs.

Yes, I do mean "caffs", not "cafés". I mean what are sometimes unfairly called "greasy spoons". Twice lately I’ve found myself having really rather splendid English Breakfasts (something we English hardly ever have!) in two of them at opposite ends of the country and thought they deserved a plug here.

The first, nondescript looking place was in Manchester. It's called the "OK Café" (!) and it's at 77 Piccadilly, between the Station and Piccadilly Gardens. It's ordinary, friendly and very popular and served me a huge steaming hot bap (they call them "barms" in the North West, apparently!) and a mug of tea for les than a price of a Latte in.......well, you know where!

The second is the misleadingly-named Gino's Coffee Bar, directly opposite Marylebone Station in London, on the corner of Melcombe Place and Great Central Street. Full breakfast or just elevenses, just setting me up for a hard day in London!

English cooked breakfasts are always a bit of a challenge for me as I don't like eggs and finding something without is sometimes a bit hard. I used to get places refusing to serve them without an egg, "unless you pay for each other piece individually", which is much more expensive. This doesn't seem to happen now (last time was in a place called Hawthorn, in Australia in 2001, I think!)

I know we're supposed to have lighter things now, not some artery-clogging fatty fry-up. But since I hardly ever do so and life isn’t a rehearsal, I reason that it's a pleasure I can indulge occasionally and am happy to recommend the two said establishments here.

I wonder if there's anywhere comparable in Birmingham.......?

Verbose Media

The many friends I have in Melbourne keep me informed that Australia's "Garden State" is a bit parched at the moment, with temperatures "soaring" up into the 40sC.

Interesting that in media speak temperatures never seem to merely "rise" and "fall"; they "soar" and "plunge" or even "plummet". We seldom get "high" winds; rather they are "gale force" and rain is never "heavy" but the more diluvian "torrential".

So I'll give this media language a go describing my day. Hope it impresses you all and leads to me being offered a sub-editor's job somewhere.

I flew from my bed at the very crack of dawn this morning, rapidly making a bee-line for the bathroom. After some vigorous teeth-brushing I wolfed down a high-fibre dose of sustenance (well, okay, muesli) before navigating the slush-filled Edwardian thoroughfares of Metroland and then plunging to a subterranean voyage on the Northern Line.

A fact-packed morning of studious endeavour followed, my fingers flying across the pages of a notebook like a swallow soaring through some alpine valley.

A traditional East End hostelry served to me some of its best foaming ale before I privileged to see the London of the twenty first century truly rolling Eastwards towards the site of the XXX Olympiad, beyond Bazalgette's effluvial temple.

A secondary subterranean projection brought me back to the bosom of my hostess (eh?), where a sumptuous supper ushered in the opportunity of a somnorial interlude.

Think I'll stick with the tour guiding. Goodnight!

Olympic Pause

I’m currently half way through a course in London studying the venues to be used in the 2012 Summer Olympics, staying with friends in North London and being Northern Line commuter for a week or so. Great, I'm getting to admire some splendid Charles Holden architecture twice a day!

Anyway, despite the weather and “unpredictable” road conditions, I’ve been home for the weekend.

Weekends off are a strange experience for me, as they’re obviously among my busiest days for work. However, Louise and I popped into Birmingham yesterday morning (I needed to find a copy of “Chariots of Fire” on DVD as material for my course!) I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: what a horrible experience shopping in major centres is on Saturdays. I get spoiled by being able to indulge in such things on – say – a Tuesday morning!

The media do tend to get their knickers in a twist about the weather, though, don’t they? While I admit it’s been a difficult spell with the very low (sorry, “plunging” temperatures), as far as motoring on main roads goes, there have been no huge problems for us. Side roads are a different matter but the thought of local councils ploughing narrow residential streets lined with parked cars is really a non starter.

The press do love to do their “the glass is half empty rather than the glass is half full” routine, don’t they? Actually, in recent reports for “glass” substitute “salt depot”.

Anyway, in between all this I’ve been typing up notes (my handwriting is appalling; it’s so long since I’ve taken longhand notes) and just generally relaxing.

Just about to enjoy a “proper” and very late breakfast before setting off back South this afternoon. Now, what do I know about Theodosius I…….?

Back to work!

I did a tour in Clerkenwell today. For those of you that don't know, this is an area of London just beyond the fringes of the mediaeval City and one with a lot of stories to tell people. I was able to fit in Elizabeth I, Hercule Poirot, Hugh Grant.......and a Musical Coalman!

It was a really agreeable group, too, which always makes the job that much more civilized. We all ended up in a pub afterwards and one of the clients even confessed to having read my Blog, which is reassuring. (Hello John!)

It's a funny period between Christmas and New Year, isn't it? Some people are at work, some not and it always seems to me to have that not-quite-a-holiday feel to it. Still, that means that more people are free to enjoy themselves.......like taking the odd guided walk. (And mine are odder than most, I'm told.) This week I have the delights of Worcester and Stratford-upon-Avon to show off, as well as a wintry ghost tour in Birmingham.

In the meantime, though, Louise and I are alone together for the first time over Christmas and are about to enjoy curried turkey, so I'd better leave the Blog alone and pour the wine!

Birmingham: A London Point of View

It was good to see advertising posters at Marylebone station yesterday extolling the virtues of some of the things that make a trip up to Birmingham worthwhile for a Londoner. Instead of the usual meaningless pictures of happy, upwardly-mobile couples staring into one another's eyes with feigned sophistication, the very real “draws” of the Birmingham Christmas Market and Aston Hall by Candlelight were being promoted to a metropolitan audience.

These are what make coming to Brum worth the effort and dispel any myths about Birmingham and I hope they encourage people to come and see the place for themselves.

Well done whoever went ahead with this campaign.

Damning With Faint Praise!

I was working in London on Wednesday, doing a short afternoon panoramic coach tour for a mostly US and Canadian group. Very nice peopel and an enjoyable day.

Coming over Southwark Bridge, I said that – when we were training – we were always told that of you go over Southwark Bridge it means you’re lost.

“You mean,” said one of the passengers, incredulously and without a hint of irony “you train to do this?”

Oh dear!

From Good Day to Bad Day

Long day today but a very enjoyable one.

I did a panoramic London tour today for a mostly American group. (Memo to self…….don’t do irony, it’s not transatlantic.)

Then this evening I had a two hour walking tour of Maidenhead of all places. It’s not superficially a town to promise much but in fact it’s a thoroughly enjoyable place to show to people. Happily, it was a really responsive group, too. When I hear someone saying “I’d never thought of that before” or “I come this way all the time and I’ve never noticed that” it makes everything, the preparation, the travelling, the learning, all worthwhile. It made me feel just great.

Off to Oldham tomorrow (Thursday) for Grahame’s funeral. He came down here to see us marry; we think it’s the least we can do to go North for him one last time.

Tower of Strength

I've just been dealing with the Tower of London, booking a group in for the autumn.

This is of course a huge and busy tourist attraction which, frankly, doesn't have to be extra nice, at least in the short term. People will go there anyway.

So what a pleasant surprise it was to be dealt with in a friendly, co-operative manner by the lady on the telephone who was there, who had all the answers, who knew what she was doing and who above all, sounded as though she was pleased we were going.

Some (not all but some) attractions in the Midlands that I've had dealings with under similar circumstances might do well to learn from their colleagues at the Tower. At some of them, large and small, I've had problems with being made frankly unwelcome with groups in the past year. I hope it's not a trend.......

(To praise the Midlands for once though, the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust deserve a mention here for having improved their welcome immeasurable over recent years.)

Musings on a Sunny Weekend

Well, while it seemed that the rest of the world was enjoying our first real taste of summer, I’ve been working all weekend. Such, though, is the tourist guide’s lot. And with a couple of cancellations in the next few days, I have to make hay while the sun shines as it were.

On Saturday I did a London walking tour for a private group following the course of the hidden River Fleet, one of London’s many “hidden” rivers. It passes through some slightly grotty places but has some great things to tell people about: prisons, an unusual miniature underground railway, gangs, wells and even a piece of Cambridgeshire!

This is the sort of work I revel in: unusual and offbeat and – even on a sunny day in one of the world’s most visited cities – largely tourist free. Not that I hate tourists (despite my jokes asserting otherwise). It’s just that when too many people wanting to see or do the same thing are in the same place at the same time, it causes us problems and gives them an inferior product. No one’s fault but there it is.

This is why groups sometimes feel that they’re treated as inferior citizens in – say – hotels or restaurants. Although sometimes the case, it’s more a case of being difficult to give lots of people the same thing at the same time.

Anyway, to return to the subject, following an invisible river is an interesting exercise. People sometimes ask me how I put the more unusual walks together and it’s a question I find hard to answer. They just sort of “happen”. Equipped with maps, I walk routes looking around and finding (I hope) interesting or entertaining “things” along the way. Then I have to string them together into some sort of coherent story. This is easier in some towns than others but perhaps surprisingly it’s usually the more unpromising destinations that yield the best tales. Perhaps it’s because people’s expectations are lower, I don’t know. But nothing, nothing at all, gives me more satisfaction than when I drop a piece of a story into place, explain a word, legend or tradition or point out an otherwise unnoticed feature and smiles appear on people’s face. That’s happened a few times this weekend and it’s just great.

To anyone reading this who’s ever looked as though they’ve enjoyed something on a tour: thank you!

Today was Oxford. Far more mainstream of course and slightly dented by a rude passer-by and a smart-arse unlicensed tourist guide who decided to try to upstage me. This is a pointless exercise, though; rather like trying to stop Susan Boyle from doing that rather odd wiggle.

Now I’m in shorts and without a shirt. Not a pleasant sight but after spending most of this weekend in a blazer and tie, I think I’ve earned it.