24 hour contrast

Thursday was hot. I mean really hot. And humid. Almost opressively so. I was working in Central London that day. With the office a stones throw from Trafalgar Square I took a leisurely stroll in the late afternoon. Picture if you will, a scene where tourists are sitting around, enjoying ice-creams, dipping there feet in the fountains in the square – and generally just enjoying the great weather in the heart of the London. Even the pigeons seem to be going about their business in a laid-back fashion.

Idyllic in Trafalgar Square
Great weather, laid-back atmosphere, everyone feeling good.

Now – advance forward by 24 hours. I had to attend a wedding reception in Essex Friday evening. Not Essex as in that desert-like land that suddenly appears as you drive past the the “Welcome to Essex” sign on the A13 heading East out of London – but a beautiful part of Essex – near a cute little town called Saffron Walden on the northern side of the county. Only getting there was no fun at all. In fact it was DREADFUL.

I left my office in Slough (by car) at 4pm – thinking that the best way to get to the venue was to drive the M25 clockwise round to the M11 – and then go North from there. I had to be there for 6.30pm – so although I was expecting some stop-start traffic on the M25 – I figured that 2.5 hours was plenty time and, if anything, I should actually get there earlier.

How wrong I was. How very wrong.

I joined the M25 at the Heathrow junction (not far from Slough) – and two and a half hours of miserable grey sky, heavy rain, foot-ache, shoulder-ache, neck-ache, and severe driving-nowhere-stress later – I was still on the M25. I got to the venue at around 7.15 – so I missed some of the wedding-recption action – but by that time I was absolutely shattered – and frankly wasn’t feeling too well as a result. I stayed for just 20 minutes and then went back home. This time I took the M11 right into London and took the North Circular to get home instead. Got home after 9pm – and went to bed soon after.

NEVER AGAIN
(A painful reminder of why I hate the M25)

West London Mix

A trip to Southall – West London for some lunchtime “chaat“. This is North Indian snacking at it’s most sweet-and-sourest finest! And there’s no better place that Southall to sample, what in my opinion, is the best chaat in the UK.

Southall Broadway on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

I took this lunch-trip opportunity to collect together some junky moving images of multi-cultural suburban London – sometimes in it’s most unglamorous forms (let’s face it the world must be fed up of cute “tourist” images by now – come and see the real London) – which you can download by doing a RIGHT-CLICK and “SAVE TARGET AS” on the “Windows Media” icon below:

Download the video file on the left to your computer by doing a “right click” and “Save Target As” to a folder of your choice.

It’s a junky (cutting-room-floor-style) music-video of just 2 minutes 43 seconds in duration (about 6.7 megabytes in total) – which captures some random footage of my neighbourhood: Kingsbury High Street – and then some of our car journey to Southall in West London via Greenford – finishing off arbritarily with some of my hazy view out of the top deck of Route 79 bus on the way home up the Ealing Road in Wembley. It should only take a few minutes to download if you are on a high-speed Internet connection – but please note: it is NOT for streaming: you should download the WMV (Windows Media Video) using “right-click and Save Target as” – as a file – to a folder of your choice – and then double-click on it when it has finished downloading.

The music is by Rishi Rich (featuring Juggy D and Veronica) – the song being “Kuriya Aajana (Come one girl!)” – which is a catchy, contemporary Indian-ethnic tune of the UK-homegrown British-Asian Punjabi-R&B fusion style. Turn it up loud for maximum enjoyment. Hope you enjoy it!

Some people don’t care

Those of you who check out my Flickr photo pages occasionally may have noticed my cameraphone snaps of people who for some reason feel compelled to put their dirty feet up onto the rearward-facing seats whilst sitting at the back of the upper deck of my beloved Route 79 bus.

However, putting feet up on seats is one thing – but much more irritating is when people deliberately set out to cause a mess – graffiting the seats, the floor, and the windows – as well as leaving behind a complete mess on the seats. I think it’s a minority of citizens who do this kind of thing – and, in my experience at least, it’s mostly teenage schoolkids – but this kind of thing makes the back of the upper deck a bit of a “no-go area” for most people as a result.

The vandalism and mess that some people leave behind.
(The very back of the upper deck of a Route 79 bus.)

Not trying to be some sort of vigilante hero or anything – but I usually find that if I purposefully make my way to that seating area – shunning the wide open opportunities of sitting anywhere else – then it kind of intimidates the types who normally congregate there – thinking that they “own” the place. And on many occasions I have made it very clear that I am undeterred and unamused by any bad goings-on. I like sitting at the very back of the upper deck; when the windows are open – there is a unique vortex of wind that keeps you cool on a hot summers day travelling to work or going home.

I have, on occasions, told schoolkids off for throwing bottles out of windows, or challenged kids who have applied marker-pens to the walls and windows – and each time I have done so, as regular as clockwork, I have been faced with a barrage of insults and abuse.

But there is one item of verbal response that has reduced said teenage gangs into silence:

“OK: What school do you go to?”

This is usually followed by a stunned silence. And is sometimes followed by a fake response – which invites my obvious “I know you’re lying to me” expression. Which is always followed by me visibly close-examining the school badges being worn on their jackets. And nine times out of ten – there is always a prolonged period of silence and good behaviour on behalf of the perpetrators. This generally only works on the way to work – as this tends to coincide with kids on the way to school. I mean: I could get off at their stop and walk right into their school with them – and complain to their headteacher – who would then summon their parents etc. etc. etc. Which I’m sure would be hugley embarassing for them. But I never go this far – I don’t mean to ruin their “fun” – I just want them to understand for themselves that destroying the bus aint clever.

And I often feel guilty for being a “spoilsport” – as I suspect that there aren’t enough people like me who care about my bus to go so far. And I fear that it it will only get worse when you hear about stories like this.

Every modern bus on the London transport network has at least 6 CCTV cameras on board – and yet even this seems to not deter the vandals. I’m really not sure what will.

On normality

Thought I’d share a few things about travelling the London transport system over the last couple of weeks or so.

It would be wrong of me to suggest that everything has been “normal”. People are definitely trying to behave normally (or are behaving as abnormally as they always used to) – but there are a lot of things that indicate quite the opposite. You get on the tube or the bus – and the first thing you notice is that you are scanning the entire carriage or bus for a) people who look unusual or b) people with big bags or rucksacks.

London is full of unusual people – and it used to be part and parcel of big city life to not give a damn. But now you do. And people with big bags and rucksacks; well you wanna make sure that the people with these bags don’t look unusual either. Because if there’s a (formerly usual) unusual person with a big bag or a rucksack- then a little warning thing inside you makes your adrenaline go a little – but you try to stay calm – and instead focus the rest of your journey-time energy on keeping an eye on said unusual person with rucksack.

For example – the other day I got onto the top deck of the 79 bus – and everything was just fine. I went right to the back – and I sat in the middle – arms folded – like a guardian angel keeping watch over things in front of me. A few stops later – a formerly-usual-but-now-unusual guy – (with alarming rucksack) – gets on bus onto top deck and staggers towards a seat not too far in front of me. It could have been just a bad night-before for this guy: perhaps he had a hangover or something? But in his somewhat dazed demeanour – he starts to fiddle about with his rucksack. My alarm bells start ringing. And they ring even louder and more violently when the guy suddenly stands up and digs deep down into the pockets of his jeans. What is he looking for? A detonator perhaps?

Chewing gum. Just chewing gum. That’s what he was looking for. He sits back down and starts chewing. A few minutes later – he suddenly gets up – picks up his rucksack (which is black and grey incidentally) (just like mine) and switches seats. Alarm bells ring even louder than before. Why is he switching seats for no apparent reason? This cannot be right! He slumps himself down in new seat on other side of the aisle – still only a few seats in front of me. A few minutes later he does the same thing! Now I am beginning to panic – this is most unusual. My heart thumping – I force myself to calm down as best as I can. Only to have any attempts at calmness to be SHATTERED by the fact that the same guy is now visibly praying. Yes: PRAYING. On the top deck of this bus! His hand gestures, closed eyes and general body motions clearly indicate that he is praying!

A sudden sort of calmness sets in – like a feeling of hopelessness. I figure that there’s no use panicking. If he hits a button and the bus explodes – then I’m gone. And I probably won’t feel a thing.

I turn up the volume of my MP3 player – and immerse myself in the music.

A few stops later – it’s my stop – and I get off as usual. As I get off the bus – I look up towards the top deck. The guy is now sat on the seat right at the front of the top deck. I laughed to myself. Like I’d survived some kind of cruel test.

Later. I get onto the tube. Same protocol: everybody checks you out as you get on – and you check everybody else out too. (Previously it was only the older Indian ladies who congregate on the bottom deck of the bus who checked you out so blatantly. So overtly – like they are checking to see if you would make suitable marriage material for their daughter or something.) But you also notice that there aren’t as many people talking to each other any more. Or perhaps that’s how it was before – and now you notice it? Who knows? What you do notice is that there are a lot of people wired for sound. iPods, walkmans and MP3 players etc. Lost in music. Not a bad way to go I suppose. I’m doing the same.

Someone left a comment to a previous posting below – one that pointed me to a BBC News page where readers were invited to feedback their comments on the aftermath of the bombings and attempted bombings. There was one particular piece of feedback that got me thinking. It was by an Asian guy (that means “South Asian” for you North Americans reading this). He said that he had taken to carrying a copy of “The Economist” magazine with him whilst riding the tubes to work and home. The idea being that he couldn’t possibly be a suicide bomber and be reading The Economist. Surely? Anybody suspecting him would soon feel very reassured that he was just an ordinary Londoner – and not a terrorist.

What a great idea I thought to myself. Since I am Asian and carrying a rucksack – I, too, would buy some intellectually-stimulating reading material next time I ride the tubes and buses. That way I could reassure my fellow commuters that I’m a good guy. So I did. The very next day in fact. Exactly 7 days after the attempted bombings on the 21st. A Thursday. The platforms and carriages of the trains at Kingsbury and Wembley Park were deathly quiet that day – and there were police in day-glo yellow jackets EVERYWHERE. I had popped into the newsagents on the High Street right next door to the tube station and pondered at the magazine shelves. What should I buy?

You’re not going to believe this: I bought a copy of “Wired” magazine. How stupid I felt when I got onto the Jubilee Line at Kingsbury. I had to quickly put the magazine back in my rucksack. And this act in itself invited too much staring. I could hear the alarm bells inside other souls going off.

Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t!

Elsewhere, the big (South) Asian guy with an equally big rucksack. Written in bold letters on the back of his bag are once innocent words that make me shudder: “Just Do It!“.

Anyway – today I worked in Oxford Street – shopping heaven for tourist London. A nice sunny day. Just as busy as it’s always been around here. People doing their thing – as if nothing had ever changed.

Everything seems to be normal in Oxford Street – Central London
(Right outside Bond Street tube station)

Indian-style fishcakes

This July has been really stressful – along a number of different dimensions. Diamond Geezer so eloquently provides some reasons why.

For me – at least for me – there’s nothing better than wasting away a few hours on a Sunday afternoon doing some cooking to relieve the stress of a difficult few weeks of work (and getting to and from work).

Indian-stle Fishcakes

Click here to learn how to make this.

Skyscraper sunrise

Apologies for the lack of updates here – have been truly busy lately.

But I woke up one morning recently – and looked out my window.

Sunrise in Munich
(From the 4th floor of the Marriott at Berliner Strasse in Munich)

That was from a few days ago. I’ve been riding the upper deck of the number 79 ever since. It’s not quite the same. People seem to be a lot more suspicious of each other. Especially if you are carrying a ruck sack (which I do). Little things are causing a lot of spookiness. Understandably I think.

Not very kind

Cruising through the suburbs on a bright and sunny Summer’s morning with MP3 player providing a veritable musical backdrop. Seated at the very back of the top deck of a London bus . This is a very nice thing to enjoy. Especially when it’s the number 79 bus. ‘Tis one of the most gratifying things about city living.

The only thing unkind about this most idyllic and tranquil of settings are the sometimes-illegible messages of fellow urbanites – either scratched into the windows, or permanently marked on the upholstery of the seat in front. And I often wish for them to be illegible – but sometimes they are not.

These are the most unkind – as they consume too many precious brain cycles. Unwanted distractions.

Shockz not very kind: Couldn’t agree more mate.

Worship

God and football. Both considered important enough for the Highways Agency to place brown tourist signs guiding visitors to them. This sign has has just been put up though. This pic (proudly) taken from the back seat of the upper deck of a (very intact) London bus cruising the (very free) streets of the North West (defiant) London. I have to say that I am quite approving of the design of the logos used on the sign.

Two temples. Two places of worship. But they forgot about IKEA.
(On the Hanger Lane Gyratory at the junction of the eastbound North Circular Road)

For those of you who live in London and haven’t seen Neasden Temple – I would definitely recommend a visit. It is quite spectacular – and many have referred to it as a “wonder of world” type thing. (It’s only a short walk from temple IKEA.)

As for Wembley Stadium – well that’s still under construction – so there’s nothing to visit there yet – but you can get a feel for the shape of the stadium from this pic I took from the top of a hill in my neighbourood – or this one taken at night from the top deck of a bus when the arch was lit up.

Just yesterday …

… we were celebrating winning the right to host the Olympics in 2012.

Today, we are crying for our comrades who were either injured or lost completely on the tubes and buses in town this morning.

I would like to say that I am glad that I wasn’t there – or grateful for the kind comments that I’ve had from folks hoping and wishing that I’m OK. Of course; I am grateful. But I’m not glad – and the feeling of grief is greater.

I was in Munich earlier today. And now I’m back in London. But for some strange reason, when I heard the news breaking in Germany- I wished I was there. Right there. Because I *could* have been. Because in some strange sort of way – I *wanted* to be. Because I was due to be downtown tomorrow anyway. Because these are the places I know so well – and have travelled through so many times before. Because I wanted to feel like I could have helped.

I cannot forget the moment I saw the image of the ripped-up London Bus on the giant TV screen in the departures hall at Munich Airport. It twisted my insides for several long moments. I won’t forget the look on people’s faces as they shook heads in disbelief at the images on the screen.

In the one-and-a-half-hour flight from Munich back to Heathrow – where, rather unusually, I noticed that we veered way North of London on our final descent into Heathrow – it was clear that the emergency procedure was in place. I was sat in a window seat on the left hand side of the plane – and I spotted Wembley Stadium under construction way out to my left. Which meant that air-traffic control had enforced an emergency exclusion zone for flights across Central London. Which was why we had flown way North of London. We landed at Heathrow following a final approach from the West – which is very unusual. (See my earlier posting below for details about final approach) The landing was a fairly hard bump as a result. The Lufthansa staff had already warned us that there would be trouble getting home – as the trains and tubes were suspended – and the roads were gridlocked around the airport as a result.

The lady at passport control spent much longer than usual studying my photo on my passport. There were lots more police armed with sub-machine guns in the arrivals hall.

When I finally got my car out at the Pink Elephant car park, I managed to wend my way around the airport perimeter – and got onto the A40 from the Slough area – and headed back into town – towards home. I witnessed many, many police cars on emergency – all the way home. It just felt really weird. And I have to admit:I felt a little scared. In fact, the whole of today has been a scary experience.

I spent the entire day earlier trying to ring around people on my mobile phone – friends, family and work colleagues – making sure they were all accounted for. And thankfully they were.

But at least 35 Londoners were not. And the number is surely going to rise.

The news reports are only speculating about the numbers killed on the bus bombing – and there are reports of many survivors of all of the bombs in critical condition in hospitals – or of survivors who have had severe burns or their limbs amputated.

There is also lots of talk on the TV and radio about the “British resolve” – and how Londoners will proudly carry on etc. And no doubt we will.

But one thing is for sure: British resolve or not – we have been shaken real bad today.

Final Approach Reloaded

I have reloaded the Central London image below into a Shockwave Flash widget. When it finishes loading – do a right-click and “Zoom in” – and then hold the left-click on your mouse and drag the picture around so that you can pan around the image. This will allow you to get finer detail of the buildings, bridges and river in the image. Enjoy.

Final approach

Whenever I fly abroad for business reasons – I always try to get checked in to a seat on the return flight to London on the right-hand-side window seat of the plane. This is because most of the time, the final approach into Heathrow is a Westbound approach – and, therefore, being next to a right-hand-side window means I get a fantastic view of Central London as we approach Heathrow for landing.

It doesn’t always work out though – as it really depends on the direction of the prevailing wind at the time. In the UK we mostly get Westerly winds – i.e. winds that approach from the West. This is because of our position in the Northern hemisphere close to the Atlantic “jet stream”. And given that planes like to take off and land in conditions that involve the minimum of “ground speed” – this means flying *into* the prevailing wind on take-off and landing. Which means West most of the time. (The reason why planes fly into the wind is to conserve fuel and to shorten the take-off and landing distance as much as possible I think.)

Looking out the window, London is like a “toytown”. The sight is one to behold – and is always rather breathtaking.

I took this pic on my return from Munich last Monday.

U2 // Vertigo // London

London was roasting on Sunday. And I went to see rock legends U2 for their London performance of their Vertigo tour at Twickenham stadium in the early evening. There was, at times, a nice breeze in the stadium as the evening drew in. When the band came on – the noise was deafening. Over 50,000 people cheered, clapped, danced and sung their way through every number – right up until darkness. It was good.

Big thumbs up to Bono and the crew!
(Two fingers to the event organisers for their “no camera” policy –
click here: all my images can be purchased at Flickr.)

And this brings me on nicely to my one major criticism ofthe whole event: the camera policy. There were signs everywhere that cameras were prohibited. The event organisers went to great lengths to ensure that people got the message that they should not bring cameras to the event – even printing the message on the tickets as they were sold months in advance. This irritates me deeply. Bullying people into not bringing their cameras – and making people feel like they are some illegal contraband – without giving ANY explanation why is just plain stupid. And there really was no explanation as to why. Of course, everyone knows that it’s to prevent professional photographers and videographers from making money selling high quality pics and videos created using high-quality capture and imaging equipment – but your average concert-goer isn’t going to want to attend the show in order sell images and vidoes. So – by making cameras a no-no to everybody had the effect of deterring the average concert-goer from bringing their holiday-snap camera to take a few memorable pics to commemorate the event. Which was completely unnecessary – especially as the face value of tickets was up to 95 pounds per seat! (In fact the show was a sell-out and tickets were trading on Ebay for over 300 pounds!) So – when you pay that much money for a ticket – then it seems stupid to tell people so forcefully not to bring their cameras so that they couldn’t capture some wonderful moments of the experience. But the thing that really irked me even more was the fact that the officials inside the stadium wearing yellow or orange T-shirts with the words “Crowd Safety Control” written on them (and there were loads of them) actually monitored the audience for cameras! And every time they spotted someone using a camera – they rushed up to that person and told them firmly to stop! This is simply ridiculous. The bag searches that took place as everyone entered the venue ensured that nobody could smuggle in professional imaging equipment – meaning that the only cameras let through were personal ones – so why on earth were the officials who were supposedly about crowd safety so edgy about people taking “holiday” snaps?

I really hope that the event organisers read this – as it is highly devious to send such strong signals about cameras to the fans so far in advance – but then on the day allow personal cameras – and then to make those who did try to use their personal cameras suffer the humility of being told that they can’t take pictures by crowd safety control folks threatening to throw you out the venue.

Of course – I took my camera, my 5 megapixel one – and I also took my mobile phone – which has a camera in it (OK – not exactly high quality) – but almost everybody in the audience had a cameraphone – so at least people did get a chance to take some pictures. And although I was one of the many people who got told on numerous occasions to stop taking pictures with my digital camera – I did so anyway. The whole thing about the camera prohibition was completely laughable by that point – it just simply wasn’t worth taking seriously when a crowd safety officer one moment stops some drunken reveller from splashing their beer all over the place – then goes and asks someone to stop using their camera – completely laughable.

They’ll have to think again when the next generation of mobile phones containing 5 megapixel (and above) cameras hit the streets. What are they going to do then; employ crowd safety control officials to pounce on people holding their mobile phones? This was the tainted edge of an otherwise great show!

Slough in Pictures Part 6

This is for Krissie. Up until a few months ago – beautiful Slough (which is where I work) had the largest Tesco in the world; their flagship store. Then it was demolished – and construction work began. To make way for an even larger store. The project has been fascinating to watch – and is the talk of the town. This part of the town has become one massive construction site – but the shell of the building is now complete – and some trees have been planted along the roadside which will make the front side of the new superstore. It’s amazing how quickly the building has come up – and it has a very modern “glass” style of architecture.

The Tesco in Slough – under reconstruction.
(It’s all “happening” here in Slough.)

Later – as I got to Platform 5 at Slough Station for my train home towards Ealing Broadway on this hot and humid Friday evening – I stumbled upon a tap-dancing troupe on platform 5. Dancing to the sound of Chattanooga-choo-choo blaring out from a ghetto-blaster on the side. And being filmed by a camera-crew on the same platform – as well as from the platform opposite. At first I thought it was for a TV commercial. But when I asked someone who looked kind of “official” – she said “it was all about making people smile“. So I smiled.

Tap dancers doing the “Chattanooga-choo-choo”.

It really is all happening here in Slough.