Author Archives: Phil Ryan

About Phil Ryan

Phil Ryan is a writer and musician. He gets about a bit.

Londoner's Life 18 – by Phil Ryan

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Londoners Life 18 – by Phil Ryan

Well it’s obvious what this column has to be about. And that’s the fact that the cycle lanes to the Olympics don’t actually go all the way to Stratford! No they just stop a few miles short. It’s a scandal. On another matter London is on fire I notice and full of charming young guys in scarves and masks nicking everything they can get their scummy little hands on when they’re not torching shops and people’s homes. Meanwhile the London Metropolitan Police who don’t actually have anyone in charge at the top currently have adopted a clever brand new approach called just watching it all – in case they upset the local kids. The same charming local kids or ‘feral gangs’ as they are better known who are currently re-enacting Grand Theft Auto on the streets of various London boroughs. Presumably later to play said game on their new stolen consoles only to find it’s not quite the same. I have a plan however. Nuns. Huge armies of them. It’s very difficult to be rude or violent towards a nun. I haven’t tried but I feel it innately. We should train up Nun riot squads.

On a completely unrelated matter it is Tourist surge time as the capital fills up with evermore eager visitors. They’ll certainly have some interesting typical tourist images to take home this visit. Burning Red buses, friendly bobbies in Riot Gear screaming, Scenes of fantastic free shopping opportunities (if you’re fast enough and handy with a torn up pole) and of course happy young London children hurling petrol bombs and bricks. But London is no stranger to the odd riot although we should be clear what’s happening now is just a bunch of criminals nicking things. I have heard the various pundits and usual suspects trotting out their theories on social deprivation. But it’s certainly a strange way to attack Government policy by hoisting a 50 plasma television out of a burning Dixons! And almost inevitably I see the usual London politicos and right on mouthpieces out blaming everything but the yoof. No it’s deprivation and police brutality that makes you nearly murder strangers, terrorize the elderly and steal phones, laptops and training shoes apparently. Who’d have guessed?

It is disturbing however to finally realise just how many gangs there are now and how organised they are. They have Facebook pages, tweets and text alerts. Very London. Very fashionable. Very depressing. But we’ll get over it. 60 years ago they bombed the place and that got sorted out. And my favourite political expression now “Lessons must be learned” will dominate every powerful mouth in London for the next few months. Of course the other expression intimating that London tax payers will have to “unfortunately pick up the tab” will be said but very very quietly.

So I’ve been out and about doing my best to avoid the main thoroughfares as I always do in the tourist season but I did stop in St Christopher’s Place for tea and a crepe a few nights back which cost slightly more than having my buttocks dusted with Platinum and of course the obligatory ‘Gypsy’ band turned up to serenade us. But they were actually really good and I tossed a quid into their tambourine. But it was a real London scene I felt. A crowded sea of tables, a huge mix of people from everywhere and a fat Romanian bloke yelling ‘That’s Amore’ at the top of his lungs whilst leering at two young buxom drunken Australian girls dressed for a hen party in pink cowboy hats. Hm! Is this the land that produced Shakespeare? But aside from that it’s very much eat outside time in town right now. Try getting a seat by the River on any of the terraces along the Thames or Canals however. Booking in advance helps I’m told. February usually which is a bit of a blow. But there is some great food out there and add the sunshine and it is a pleasure to be in London right now if you know where to go. I would make lots of recommendations but then everyone else would go there and my little havens would be ruined. However in the Frost spirit I’ll give you one – just one mind – Check out the Mango Mousse (it’s a dessert) in a place called Siam Central in Charlottes Street off Tottenham Court Road. Thai food – fresh as you can imagine – tiny restaurant – food to savour! Oh yes and avoid Wednesdays that’s when I go. So what will happen next after the ‘riots’? Lessons will be learned ahem. A few dumb crooks will go to young offender institutions. Ebay will be flooded with cheap electrical goods and phones. But in truth absolutely nothing radical or clever will happen. So does anybody round here believe it will change the city and the way it operates. No. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 16 – by Phil Ryan

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I’m sorry but I have to say it. The Olympics are coming to London. And just as an example of how great it’s going to be, I thought I’d tell you my experiences with the ticketing system. Briefly, here’s an overview of how it works. Initially you had to apply for a password and set up an account. Then you found you could only buy London Olympic tickets with a Visa card. Then you found you could only actually ‘bid’ for tickets. Not buy them. Huh? This meant that you had to effectively gamble just like buying a lottery ticket – and try and buy (gamble) thousands of pounds of Olympic tickets to get any chance of getting any.

BUT then you didn’t know exactly what tickets to what events you would be sent (if any), you didn’t exactly when or where you’d be going (if you went at all) and then finally the prices jumped from £20 to £400 in the blink of an eye. So effectively, you could ‘bid’ for £3000 worth of tickets only to find, instead of seats at the Opening ceremony or the 100m final, you’d actually ‘won’ two £95 tickets to the pigeon scaring finals in Kidbrooke!

With me so far?

But then as you entered this baffling surreal world of not knowing what, how much you were paying or where you were going – the website continuously blocked you doing anything at all! Half the time, nothing was available apart from the 100m Female Drag Queen Arguments bronze medal qualifiers from Putney. It seemed all the main events in the Olympic stadium were suddenly mysteriously all unavailable. Apart from if you chose to buy tickets in Germany, for example, where you could buy any tickets you wanted!!!

Naturally I didn’t get offered any tickets. I’m not German.

BUT then came the second gambling round for the ‘unlucky’ ones. So with a sense of foreboding, I entered the site to find even less choice of events at £300 ticket, all nowhere near the Olympic Park. Examples: Olympic FOOTBALL? Olympic TENNIS? What’s that all about? So I gave up. What’s the point? It’s simply a fat cat corporate junket we Londoners are sadly paying for.

To recap – I’m a Londoner so some of my taxes (yes, Londoners are the only people paying Olympic tax) go towards the games and my chances of going are clearly zero. Only London could create such a ticketing system. I’ve decided to not be in London those two weeks. There is no point. Ho hum.

Wimbledon is here. And so unsurprisingly is the rain. But this year they’ve got that roof from Thunderbirds so they’ll be able to presumably play on. However, I noticed they hadn’t used it much – preferring instead to have TV coverage full of Sue Barker talking endlessly to various elderly tennis stars of yesteryear. Weird.

And I love the Londoners’ attitude to Wimbledon. I heard radio coverage of the public’s thoughts. Was it excitement at the thought of days of stunning world-class tennis? No. Mainly the thought of more traffic congestion and less places to park. Apparently, the traffic wardens outnumber the strawberries this year.

We Londoners are hardy folk though. In the face of adversity we just carry on. And yesterday, I saw the brilliant sight of a crowd of tube passengers exiting Baker Street into the pouring rain all lifting their Metro newspapers above their heads at the same time. It looked like a modern dance company. You could have set it to music. Of course it didn’t work, but it was great to see them all copy each other in the who can make the ‘most papiere mache first’ game! Best of all, however, right next to the exit, there was a little smiling Indian bloke flogging umbrellas from a bicycle. He was yelling: “Umbrellas, umbrellas, best in town’. What a star! He’ll probably end up being Mayor. He’s got my vote.

Talking of our glorious Mayor for London, I see the campaigns are now seriously starting. Ken is back and so are the other usual pointless candidates. Most of them so bland that when they stand in front of a beige wall they simply disappear. I saw a Liberal Democrat being interviewed and even the interviewer lost interest. She kept glancing past him – clearly hoping a tourist or a drunk would interrupt.

For those of you unclear about things – the London Mayor and his office are yet another level of bureaucracy we pay through the nose for. They spend much of their time meeting about things that don’t ever happen. And when they do make things happen, we just get a bigger bill. A classic case are the fantastic BLUE cycle highways. Millions of pounds of blue lanes painted onto the road. Very safe for cyclists. Clearly cars can’t cross the blue paint – oops yes they can. Doh! But we do provide employment for Boris and his hangers-on currently, up until he tries to take over the Conservative Party. But right now he’s doing his best to mess about with London. And when he’s not screwing things up we have our local councils.

My favourite current example of London madness at official level is a fantastic new idea for local high streets. London councils are creating pop-up shops to give the illusion that our high streets aren’t dying – although of course they are. These pop up shops are usually local artists flogging their work, which I admit is nice, but on the other hand, after a long day, few Londoners go home thinking’ if only I can get a graphic representation of the Queen as a chimpanzee playing the banjo locally’.

The other madder idea is to put plastic coverings on the empty shop fronts. In other words, either stick ugly advertising for Mcdonald’s or some other corporate monster that destroys high streets (no sense of irony these councillors) or in some cases, pretend shops. Yes really. Pretend shops! They look like a flower shop or a grocery shop, but they’re not real! It’s great to watch bemused locals trying to walk in. Bang. They bounce off the locked door and then realise it’s just a big graphic poster with a 3D effect. Seriously, they are out there! You couldn’t make it up really. But it is the London way. We are innovators.

But seriously. Do we care about being ripped off over the Olympics? Is the Mayor going to make the slightest bit of difference to anything? And will it stop us enjoying the summer? No. It’s just a London thing.

Londoner's Life 15 – by Phil Ryan

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Well apart from the typical June London weather of pouring rain and blazing heat another London tradition seems to have now embedded itself. The London Food festivals. These extravaganzas are everywhere now it seems. Every borough has its own version. But they seem to follow a distinct pattern. A mixture of great produce and stuff that looks like MI5 should get involved. Weird looking space veg and purple and red oils that wouldn’t look out of place in Dr Frankenstein’s laboratory. And of course the stalls are alternatively manned by nice people who you want to hug and smug people you want to strike with a copper bottomed smirching pan (whatever the hell that is). That’s the issue. It’s just cooking food. But no these folk have elevated it to some permanent game of bizarre food one-upmanship. The oil has to be trammelled or the pan should be crindled. It’s like a whole new language. And of course just like lawyers much of it is designed to part you from your cash.

I saw a bread stall with loaves of bread starting at £10.00. It said stone baked in an ancient bronze age bread oven. To a sixteenth century recipe. What the hell was in it? Platinum flour? The Magna Carta? But if you recall one of my distant columns where I referred to London tribes – I’ve discovered a sub species. The Speciality Food groups. And the Foodie groups have sub species. The Vegetarian bunch where all the women dress in that washed out knackered looking Laura Ashley stuff – always have four small blonde children (the husband always has those faux National Health specs) and everything’s about soya and spelt. The Sunday Supplement bunch – a very different kettle of fish – decidedly jeans and blazers for the men – the women all Zara meets Chanel. And they’re drooling over smoke dried andeluvian reindeer buttocks and guarana leaved wrapped organic pork chops. God bless them‘ They can waste hours knocking up a meal that bears little resemblance to food. But it’s all about textures darling. Hm. I asked for a ham sandwich at one stall and the guy asked me how did I like my ham cut – against the grain or southerly. I said in slices. He almost started crying. Especially when I asked for white bread and Kerry Gold butter.
Had a great moany email about The Tower of London! I could have told them it’s a pointless tourist rip off at £20.00 per head.

For some stupid ‘let’s favour the regions’ type of reasons – the authorities hiked most of the contents up to Leeds years ago. Seriously. The place has got bugger all in it now. You’ve got the Crown Jewels (five minutes of oh look some diamond hats), some ravens (two minutes of aren’t they just crows on steroids?) and those blokes in Red uniforms (Why do they all look slightly drunk?) Oh yes and lots of stone walls (thirty minutes of look how old this wall is). Not exactly a fun packed day for the poor wee mites and their folk you have to admit. They’ve even got signs around the place saying things like ‘here in this room were suits of handmade silver armour’. No armour mind – just a sign. Priceless. But on that subject the tourists are really filling up the place. Just look at the Open top Tour buses. Absolutely full to bursting. And is it me but do none of these companies have uniforms that fit their staff? Just take a look. Half of them seem to be wearing jackets designed for somebody three sizes bigger – or their hats appear to have been glued to their heads as they seem to be play hats for five year old children. If smartness is their aim they’re failing badly. It looks more like each morning the tour bus staff are tossed into a large skip and just pick anything they can find with a company logo on – regardless of size.

My particular favourite London tourist mystery – is the hundreds of grim faced eastern European girls now employed at key historical points to totally confuse the visitor to London. You come for a slice of merry old England and you get some stone faced harpy with no sense of humour who says things like “Zis iss ze very place ze Kink roded his horses. Velcome to ze majesty of zis castle”. Call me old fashioned but shouldn’t they at least get some training? And I mean voice training. Imagine going to see the Great Wall of China and some buffoon pipes up saying “Yeah alright innit dis wall is well speshul. Big old Emperors and all dat stuff you get me”. I guess I’m just too picky. And yes I know they work cheap.

So summer is here(ish) And apart from the usual tube strikes and road closures we have to contend with all the public parks being turned into private event venues. Take Holland Park – it is now a series of semi – permanent Marquees erected for various do’s. I’m told they need the revenue. But the key word overlooked seems to be public parks. Ho hum. But Londoners love their parks public parks. Mainly all the flat dwellers without a garden. And of course that other group. The sun worshippers who whip off most of their clothes at the merest twinkle of sunlight. Nip down to Hyde Park by Bayswater for a real culture clash regarding sunbathing. On the one hand you have the countless young roller-blading girls and boys and fitness freaks in skimpy lycra shorts and no tops worth talking about zapping around the place in the blazing heat and the large groups of burka clad women with huge shades silently sitting on every bench watching them. Weird. But is anyone upset? Is anyone shaken by any of this? No. Of course not. It’s a London thing.

Londoner's Diary 13 – by Phil Ryan

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Yes, it’s coming up to the great invasion now. Londoners are bracing themselves for the Tourists. We had the Royal Wedding rush, but now June is coming and so is the world.

I generally avoid the centre of town over the next months (I stay out on the leafier fringes). But a very good place to take the pulse of tourism is in our London street markets. Camden in the north and Portobello in the west have now gradually been reduced to a very long shuffle that takes hours to complete. It looks like a scene out of that penguin documentary film – but without the cute voiceover. Great for the stallholders, mind, but not so much fun for the visitors. And to add to that disappointment is the now almost generic nature of much of the goods for sale.

They’re not very London. In fact they seem to be mainly Chinese and Indian in manufacture. Seems weird to me. You fly in from Spain and go home with a Japanese rubber watch, some Indian scarves, some Chinese jewellery and when people ask where you’ve been, you say London! That said, we do have some great young fashion designers in many of the markets, like Spitalfields in the east, who do sell extraordinarily brilliant and authentic London designs. So it’s not all bad.

I particularly like the visitors who buy those tall Union Jack hats with bells on. Come to London, city of great fashion and style. What do you choose – a felt hat that makes you look like a twat! Classic. I think they just get confused by all the choice. But at least they can lose their money gradually in the markets. The attractions are now charging crazy prices. The London Eye, Madame Tussaud’s, The Tower of London, London Zoo. They’re all close to £20 entry. Last time I was at the zoo, I took a monkey and a meerkat home. Well, I wanted my money’s worth.

Frankly, I’m amazed the tourists still come. London is now one of the most expensive cities to visit. And our beloved Mayor is now pointing out that the tourists are all using his Boris bikes. Hardly surprising, they’re all strapped for cash. An oyster card would probably finish them off financially. They’d probably root in the bins except the locals have probably got there first.

And if tourists aren’t baffled and broke enough, it’s charity running/walking/crawling season here in London with a vengeance. You can’t go near a park or open space without finding scores of grinning sweaty folk dressed as nuns or in pink, blue or green, covered in balloons and sprinting at you waving plastic buckets. It’s all very laudable but annoying. I give to charity in my own way. But it’s like a load of highwaymen without any style have been let loose. Every underground station now seems to have a bucket waver in residence and my local high street has posted at least three a day along its length.

It’s like some surreal computer game. You devise strategies. Maximum points. Cross over. Lift your paper and become invisible. Glare wildly. Mutter ‘no thanks’. Get someone in front of you to block them from seeing you. Pretend to answer your phone. Avoid eye contact. Look at the floor. I’m exhausted after a day out!

I’m all for charity, but not when it walks up to you and demands money with cheery menaces. I’d like a central fund I could pay a tenner into once a month. Then all the charities have to fight it out with pillows in a giant mud-filled arena which you have to pay to go into to watch. Brilliant eh? Money and entertainment. Maybe it’ll catch on.

But London is getting crowded with visitors and the tubes are getting to be even more of a nightmare. I love the recent saga of breakdowns and then the accompanying explanations. A bolt fell off and jammed a door open. Signals wouldn’t talk to each other. My favourite: an animal of some kind loose in a tunnel. An animal? What? Bigfoot?

However, I witnessed a pure London moment last week. I was at Finchley Road waiting for a Jubilee line train. On the platform behind him I heard a Metropolitan line train approach. The station announcement proudly said: “Ladies and Gentlemen. The train now arriving on platform three is one of the brand new Metropolitan line trains now in service.” So I turned around and a new shiny and gleaming train pulled in. It was really brand new. Bright paint job. Clear glass in its windows. Modern. Inviting. It looked very nice. Inside there was about 50 happy people, all looking very pleased to be on such a nice shiny and clean train for a change. Some of them stood up to get off.

Meanwhile, people on the platform all looked pretty pleased to see such a nice-looking carriage. You could see it was pretty cool. At last. New trains. Comfortable, wide, air conditioned, a pleasure to travel in. But the doors wouldn’t actually open. So it sat there while various TFL folk appeared and poked it for a bit and then it pulled out. Bizarre. Hapless travellers inside banging on the windows and shouting rude words. Resigned travellers on the platform letting their shoulders drop. It had been a cruel trick. The next train arrived. Old, crammed, dirty but with working doors! Reality restored. When I later got out at Bond Street I asked a TFL bloke about it and he said: “Yeah, the doors are so new they’re sticky and they don’t really open. Give it a year or two and they’ll be fine.” Priceless.

So there you have it. We’re being crowded out with tourists. Prices for attractions are at mortgage levels. The tube doors don’t open. And the streets are full of charity muggers. But do we care? No. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 12 By Phil Ryan

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Londoners Life 12 – by Phil Ryan

Sunshine. At last. And another London phenomenon is with us. The lovely weather in London always brings out the open top sports cars. And I mean the crazy and ludicrous supercars of Top Gear fame. And to me many of the more overpriced models are slightly baffling given the actual legal and realistic speed of traffic in London. Take the Edgeware Road as a classic example. Seemingly endless rows of Ferraris and Lamborghinis have now instantly appeared driven by various 20 something’s who actually look about 12 (possibly family money or just a generous paper round?) But wait for it they are now out and driving about. At around 10 miles per hour. What’s the point? Why drive a 200 mile per hour supercar in London at 10 miles per hour? The other night my friends and I were sitting outside a restaurant in Camden in a small side street. Suddenly the building virtually shook. And there we saw a bright red open top Ferrari crawling along at the top of the road. It noisily scraped agonisingly over the road humps only to speed past us with a sonic boom of engine roar followed by a brake squeal as it reached the next road hump twenty feet up the road. Very London. It was both awful but fascinating to watch. One of my colleagues commented that it would be great fun when they finally reached the motorway and they could really drive. And I replied yes at a heady 70 miles per hour just like everyone else! Hm not sure about the point of them, but I suppose they are keeping our petrol stations open. I figured that the Camden Ferrari was achieving a respectable ten miles to the gallon – which meant they’d clearly figured out their route carefully based on where the next petrol station was presumably. Wild eh?

And talking of wildlife and pests. The urban foxes are now out in force in London I see but mainly hear sadly. All the local bins get ripped open regularly now and I’m hearing weird squealing noises in the middle of the night. Although I have got some newly married Italian neighbours so I guess it could be them? Recently I saw one on the roof of a Kebab shop in Holloway as I drove past! (not my Italian neighbours a fox) Clearly they really will eat anything. And they really are quite fearless now as I see them sitting next to cars waiting for them to drive off. And now the arguments begin. Are they pests or are they lovely wildlife? Tricky one this. I’m all for nature but I’m starting to come down on the pest side. I’ll admit they do look cute but they’re a bit nasty to cats and rabbits. Plus in my street they regularly rip open bins and drag rubbish everywhere (just like the bin men but without the hi vis vests) I think Walt Disney has a lot to answer for here. Foxes are not cute! They carry diseases and crap everywhere (again a bit like the local bin men but I digress) And talking of Disney it’s the holiday hordes arrival time. Disney Breaks, Legoland all the commercial days out are putting what I call Recession offers out there. But London seems resolutely overpriced for families. The ticket costs at Madame Tussauds, The London Eye and The Tower of London all seem more like attempts to buy them! Upwards of a hundred and thirty pounds per family for half a day out. Whoah. I thought the recession was bringing prices down. But the tourists seem to be coping. Visit London seem to be saying numbers are up this year. There’s lots to do for free now the sunshine is out I’ll freely admit though.

And currently one of my favourite but potentially free terrible London phenomena is now springing up everywhere. Of course I mean the roving street musicians. If you eat out in St Christopher’s place nowadays roving bands of accordionists are suddenly smilingly but subtly now regularly harassing the diners. They have the look of banditry about them – I don’t know why. I think it’s the slicked back hair and leather bomber jackets they all seem to wear plus that cartoon blue stubble. They travel in packs of four (like condoms but less welcome) and seem to target any couple crazy enough to hold hands in front of them. I saw one couple the other day get treated to a surreal version of Pyscho Killer! And to my amazement this was followed up with a jaunty but off key version of Elvis Presley’s Wooden Heart complete with incorrect lyrics screamed by a small sweaty fat man who looked constipated. But the couple cracked and I saw a few pounds tumble into the outstretched hat as they nervously smiled at the crooks. Don’t get me wrong I love outside music as it can really lift you up.

I pause however to point out the odd case of the elderly blind guy who plays the violin who has now taken up his usual spot outside Debenhams in Oxford Street. He’s been there for years. He’s like one of those traditional figures on those clocks. He appears as soon as the sunshine appears. But he’s terrible. You would have thought given the years he’s been at it he could at least knock out a recognisable tune but no he can’t. Instead he saws away at the violin making it sound like its being assaulted with a cat on crystal meth. Hm. I’m trying to work out the braille for get some lessons so I can stick a note in his hand but I suppose that’s just me being mean and uncharitable. I always drop some change in his hat honestly. And I’ve recently added the word DEAF to his sign saying he’s blind (well he can’t see it can he) I figure it will help his PR profile.

However my favourite player is this dread locked saxophone player in Leicester Square. He always plays late at night. And I always drop money into his case. He’s like a very cool personal soundtrack. Gorgeous notes soaring about you as you make your way home. It’s like being in a movie. And you are the main character!

So the sunshine is here to stay for the time being and London instantly adapts to it as always. We move outside to eat and drink. And despite the stupid cars, the foxes, the tourists, the burger guys and the summer drunks and now the X factor like invasion of our public spaces – do we mind it all (plus the awful versions of Oasis and The Killers we are now being hit with on a daily basis) Of course not. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 11 by Phil Ryan

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Well the riots are over, the streets are full of tourists and London is getting back to Spring. And if there’s one thing that the London spring brings onto the streets it’s the Lycra brigade. Suddenly there’s someone looking like a Nike ad pounding along every pavement. My favourite recent sight being of two yummy mummies jogging along in Kensington pushing those ludicrously large buggies that look like they’ve been designed to withstand a bomb blast. But not only were they running in their designer sports outfits and chatting as they pushed their future investment banker along they had a Nanny in full running gear engaging with the little darlings. Poor thing looked a little like a dunkin donuts lover so was puffing and red faced as she staggered along. The children seemed delighted at the entertainment. Squeaking happily now and again. Both whippet thin, tanned women would yell encouraging things to her such as “do keep up Svetlana” and “No gain without pain darling”. I couldn’t quite see the point as both of them were smoking as they ran and one had a little Patisserie Valerie bag swinging from her buggy. Presumably not for wobbly Svetlana who really needed some kind of drugs or medical assistance. But the fitness bug hangs heavy on the breeze. It’s apparently time for Londoners to shed those winter pounds and don your trusty arm mounted ipod. Then hit the latest JD sports sale (sales still running continuously since 1668 – see Samuel Pepys Diary “Wednesday April fecond 1669 – Up at mid morning to the fplendid fprts fale at Master JD’s in the Ftrand- purchased fome kick ass trainers and a Flazenger trackfuit. Returned to my desk by afternoon to write. Wish I had a laptop) There’s no doubt running about is in – as coming hot on their heels is – wait for it – fun run marathon season. Support Endangered Lemurs in Putney etc – Never have two words been so mismatched. Fun and run. I should point out that I see these people mainly as I’m sat in the various cafes I frequent. I like to wave an éclair at them for encouragement. I exercise at home regularly and keep my tai chi routines going. It works for me plus I’ve never been a fan of sweating heavily in public or getting a rash in front of complete strangers.

But if you like sweating in public the new fitness programme from TFL kicks in with a vengeance this month. By cleverly closing Tottenham Court Road for 8 months and now regularly shutting down various lines at random every weekend they’re really getting Londoners out onto the streets walking. It’s a shame they have paid for tickets which they can’t use – but hey look at the health benefits. But it’s all necessary as the new Crossrail works are forging ahead. It could be just me. But as far as I can see we have to put up with a rubbish transport system where the prices go up year on year until 2018 or something. And then presumably the tickets will be so expensive no-one will be able to afford the eye watering prices to ride on the shiny new trains and lines to everywhere you’ve ever heard of in London. Crossrail. I’m just cross.

And talking of TFL and weight loss that brings me to our porcine Mayor. Soon we’ll get to see those Boris bike figures apparently. Turns out that as I said that the idea that it wouldn’t cost us a penny is half right. It hasn’t cost Londoners a penny to implement the bike scheme. It’s closer to 11 million pounds. As I said I kind of like the idea but I just don’t want to pay for it. Well certainly not if I never use it. So currently most of us are forking out for tourists to wobble dangerously around the streets. See London and get crushed by a lorry. Catchy tourist tagline huh? Finally whilst I’m in my fitness mode I notice that lots of gyms seem to be closing down – pour quoi? Maybe people are cutting back although presumably starvation will assist many in their desire to lose weight. The new recession diet.

So finally spring is with us. Which also heralds the tourist invasion. It’s started already. I was at Kew Gardens last weekend as coach loads of baffled Italians were being herded through the turnstiles. They seemed bemused. I heard one ask the tour guide “Is a big park no? Where are the rides?” Clearly they hadn’t quite given him the whole description. So look out for every museum and art gallery to be rammed every weekend. Forget about using the nearby cafes as they’ll be full too. The invasion has started and because the pound is so weak it’s going to be a big one this year. But do we mind sharing our space with the world. Do we mind our shops filling up with arm waving women? And do we mind our parks becoming al fresco dining rooms for every nation. No. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 10 – By Phil Ryan

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Londoners Life 10 – by Phil Ryan

We often hear of problems in London with parking. The main gripe of drivers being that Councils are now just using high parking charges as a revenue generator. And it is clearly true despite the Councils mealy mouthed explanations. My favourite being that it stops commuters driving to Tube stations and clogging the local roads (this slightly shot down by the fact that parking restrictions are on every single street in every single borough now miles from any tube stations) I tell people you can drive in London you just can’t actually stop anywhere!

And if ever proof were needed recently that champion of fairness and kindness Baby Shrek look alike Brian Coleman the Leader of the Council in Barnet even laughingly said he felt they were never knowingly underpriced. This as he announced they were doubling parking charges for residents in his borough and it was just tough! But this time the residents are taking Barnet Council to court saying it’s unfair. Good luck to them. As a London driver I’m used to being abused and lied to – so it’s nice to see some Londoners fighting back. Of course they’ll lose. It’s the London way. The fix is in. But hey if it makes one idiot local councillor pause for thought it’s got to be worth it.
London sadly has a history of shooting fish (ie all London taxpayers) and in a barrel in this way. In other words once they realise they have a monopoly and there is nothing Londoners can do they rip us off. Higher prices for nothing in return. TFL are a great example of this. Prices go up and up on the Underground and then incredibly the service just gets worse and worse! And travelling conditions are really horrible lately. Squeezing people in like a game of Twister on amphetamines. The tube is getting more and more like one of those Japanese game shows without a prize at the end. And Londoners grimly put up with it. Why? No alternative. Monopoly. The Oyster card now a badge of endurance.

And whilst on Transport issues I notice the Boris Bikes are suddenly coming in for scrutiny. The scheme apparently costing the taxpayer some mad sum of money anytime someone makes a journey. Why is it so expensive you ask? Because of the company behind it and the mug contract signed by TFL and the Mayor. It’s funny how London politicians vanity projects seem to get pushed through despite apparent layers of ‘scrutiny’. Green is always good is the mantra. No matter how ineffective or expensive. After they added up the costs it turns out that the bikes would be cheaper to the public purse if they are just left in the racks and the riders are carried around by slaves in those sedan chairs. And as for the cycle highways ie blue lines painted on the road. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!
Please don’t get me wrong. I do love the idea of a bike scheme. But not the ludicrous costs. But I must calm down. The sun is out – the Royal parks are still free and looking glorious and the hints of spring in London are everywhere. Daffodils on roundabouts etc.
Fashion Week is over and new spring looks are appearing but the biggest sign is the re-appearance of the outside table.

Londoners can’t resist them. That Parisian air of lolling about watching the world pass by. Admittedly you also get large Buses and Lorries as well. So you can choke on your cappuccino as you ogle the passing public. I don’t get it. Who wants to sit on a pavement? Pollution falling over you as you sip your overpriced beverage.

But hey it’s that cool al fresco London experience. Despite it being five degrees, everywhere I go hardy souls are out with their new shades and iphones blabbing away. And it could just be me but where are all these tiny dogs coming from? They are everywhere. It seems de rigueur now for designer shaded girls and boys to currently accessorize with an animal that looks like an angry rat in a fur wrap. These sharp toothed little rodent dogs perch quiveringly under their owners chairs snapping at anyone who passes by. I’m still trying to work out their function. They’re skin and bone so they score low on the cuddle factor. They can’t do tricks as they’d break. I guess they could be a good defence animal as they can easily be hurled at a mugger. The element of surprise of being hit at fifty miles an hour by a small snarling rodent a great deterrent. (Kidding) Or are they just loyal companions? The jury is still out I think.

But spring is evident in the air. It’s charity time. All the great and the good are filling our airtime with their appeals. Exhorting us to open our wallets. It’s all in a good cause. Red nose this. Flowers for that. Without people dressed as clowns outside Waterloo rattling buckets it seems as if London would cease to function. But Londoners are generous. So when they’re outside in artic conditions sitting at their table drinking a cappuccino with an angry demented rat on a string what happens? Some person dressed as a giant Yellow Cat strides up demanding money for underprivileged trees. Does it bother them? Does it faze them? No. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 9 by Phil Ryan

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Of all the London phenomenon I’ve chronicled recently, there is one that has been gathering pace. It’s called Business Change.

I’m suddenly more aware of the breathtaking and surprising speed that familiar haunts, restaurants and bars seem to be going out of business, closing down and then getting replaced by a new business. I only note it down now after a recent few trips into town that left me sad at the disappearance of quite a few of my regular haunts and drop in places. Cafes, book shops, restaurants and music equipment places all suddenly biting the dust. You head to an old familiar café hoping to get egg and chips and suddenly it’s a trendy new Japanese hairdressers decorated in black and silver with bright cartoon characters on the windows offering wakami face tugging and Nintendo hair stress with kodo roots and sea turtle mud. All very disconcerting.

I know it’s a recession year unfolding, but it’s very London in the way that there seems to have suddenly been a speedy pick up in the opening and closing rates of so many once great places. It’s as if the capital is sensing blood in the water. The old and sick are culled (sadly often by the chain groups) and the whole place seems to be getting blander and less original by comparison.

We all know that London constantly changes – just look at the sprawling developments in regeneration areas. Even bits of the new Stratford are starting to look quite pleasant. Actually, scratch that. It’s still a dump, but now with an inappropriate huge shopping centre and bits of Olympic nonsense being stuck around the place.But it’s funny how a couple of converted factories or hospitals reborn as apartments seems to immediately change the tone in an area – even if it’s only very surface to start with. Hackney and Battersea has enclaves and pockets of said new conversions but are both still struggling. So-called luxury developments can only achieve so much. The muggers just seem better read – now quoting Monica Ali and The Secret as they rob your wallet.

But the onward rush of change and the trend to new designer living has a lot to answer for. One of my prime examples is Paddington Basin. Now changed – from an admittedly smelly canal side dump – but changed to a monolithic mixed office and apartment, antiseptic, dystopian, concrete wasteland -replete with confusing enormous steel statues and various bits of naff looking public ‘heritage’ art.

As you enter, you find great grey pebble-dashed wind tunnels threading through various soulless glass and steel monoliths that abound the place, all giving it the charming air of a car park designed by Philip Starck, The Mad Hatter and Mr Angry. And the entire place is complete with faux cobbles and café canal side living (ie chain outlets sticking tables outside). Sadly, the whole place has slightly less atmosphere than Jupiter. You can see baffled canal side walkers leave little leafy and cute Little Venice and then turn up in what appears to be an architect’s giant scale model of dullness and concrete. “It’s all neat and clean and functional,” they tell me. But then so are abattoirs,  which it sort of gives the half air of being modelled on – only without the welcome death at the end after spending any time there. But that’s London. Changeville.

And if you needed more proof of changes, look no further than the past few year’s restaurant trends. Scores of Thai, Vietnamese, Mongol Grills and Pan Asian buffet places appearing and disappearing within a two-year period. Now it’s the Lebanese wave I’m noticing. They’re popping up everywhere. Nice, but generally overpriced. And often with the hookah pipes outside, gently wafting aromatic smoke down the street. And snapping at their heels, those very cool-looking Japanese places. All Zen and noodles with raw everything (just saving on the gas bill I’m guessing. Personally, I like my food cooked).

But don’t panic. There are still places that show no sign of seemingly changing one iota. South Kensington and its environs is a case in point. I had the dubious pleasure of being taken to a basement restaurant down that way last week. The prices? Unfeasibly high. The place? Packed to the rafters with an orderly line patiently waiting by the till area when we arrived. The noise levels? Slightly above that of runway one at Heathrow. And the food? Italian pizzas mainly – but disguised as high fashion cuisine. And then that bizarre welcome. Table for six? Yes, of course, but you’ll have to leave at 10.00 sharp (it was 8.00). The people with me seemed unsurprised. Didn’t they mind?, I asked. “No,” they chorused. “It’s a London thing.”