pumpkinstrokemarrow

Yesterday to the Isle of Dogs to see how it is getting on, my last visit have been some years ago to the very swanky offices of Credit Suisse First Boston (on IT, not banking business). Arrived at Canary Wharf tube station on a rather grey and cold day. The huge tube station impressive, almost cathedral like, but sterile. No cigarette shops, newspaper stands, cafes or anything else. Just a junction box in the human distribution grid. Outside, not so impressive. Just a lot of rather big and cold buildings, despite the rather feeble attempts at park.

The idea being to head south, we consult the diagram of the underground shopping centre. We work out that the diagram is upside down but manage to work out where south is, despite the missing sun. (I found out later in the day that had I had an iPhone, I would have had a compass, often handy when lost in a big city). Head off south, through buildings of steadily declining quality and size but of ascending age, eventually getting onto West Ferry Road. Time for lunch but nothing suitable in sight. There is a flashy looking Spar. Are we to be reduced to eating pork pies sitting on a sea wall? In the nick of time a converted church hoves in to view, advertising an upstairs bar and restaurant. One of those rather flashy low church brick sheds put up by evangelical types in the last century but one. Now primarily a nest of what appeared to be underfunded luvvies - see http://space.org.uk/. But upstairs there was indeed a bar equipped with the square oaken tables which were so common in the middle of the last century. And they served food. So for a little under £20 we had stew of the day and a cheese omelette. Plus beverages. The stew of the day was a hot red, watery affair containing lumps of spicy French sausage and a modest amount of vegetable, including chick peas. Not bad at all, despite being watery.

Headed on down and around the tip of the island, through swathes of sixties housing. Fair number of very modestly dressed women. Walked on the beach where there were very few bones, compared, say, with the beach beneath the Festival Hall. Found that Greenwich Hospital while still grand, was flanked by a rather ugly, disused power station to the east. Had I been a hospital resident at the time, I would definitely been on the protest against planning permission for the thing. Found our way to Christ Church - see http://www.parishiod.org.uk/. An impressive Victorian affair, rather high CofE. They did mass, had statues and some rather good stations of the cross. Plus a very unusual and very impressive vaulted wooden roof, a large organ and some interesting decoration. And outside, a rather impressive steeple. Perhaps what was most impressive that the place was open at all. All too often in areas of this sort, the houses of the Lord are shut. (Given that he has houses all over the world, I wonder what his tax status is? Is he Non. Dom. somewhere where he attracts adverse comment for not paying much tax?) Pushed on past the church to the Pier Tavern. No warm beer so I had to drink lager. An establishment rather like TB in tone. I dare say the place still sees the odd skirmish.

Headed on up and over the lifting bridge (I forget whether there is a proper name for such a thing. There is another over the ship canal on the Exeter by-pass) and swing west back towards Canary Wharf. Come across what must be an important hub in the C&W world. Three socking great steerable dishes. What sort of traffic do they carry? Then past a large Waitrose, back down the tube and back to sunny Epsom.

All in all an odd place. Roughly speaking, fancy business district with towers north of Marsh Wall, shanty town to the south. Must feel quite isolated if you live there, although the towers look more impressive than they do close up. Bit like living in the country. Will now do a bit of mugging up with Mr. G., against our next visit. The BH might be tempted by the museum in the north of the island.