Londoner’s Life 40 – Overheard by Phil Ryan

Well another week in this great city of London. And another stealthily garnered piece of minutiae of the wonderful inner world so many people inhabit. My wide open ears are now so finely attuned to this stuff I have to concentrate to turn them off! Happily I get to grab my pieces between meetings and things when I am often on my own and can really concentrate. So here’s my usual sharp intake of breath one liner I grabbed outside Bank Tube station. Sharply suited man in designer shades loudly into mobile phone: “For christ’s sake Toby it’s a fucking gibbon. Deal with it”. Huh???????
However this week’s standout winner was the five tourists from Spain (they had Bright red jackets with Espana printed on them) and they were having coffee and cake with a tour guide and obvious Language teacher in The Crypt at St Martins in the Field Café. I was sitting virtually in front of them as the tables were shoved together so I could watch as well from behind my paper.
Young Language guy “Yes its silly isn’t it it’s written as Leciester Square (he enunciates liesester slowly and sharply) but it’s pronounced as Lester” Sharp faced woman “But why?” Young Language guy “I think it’s something to do with the french” The Spanish people muttered to each other sounding puzzled. Sharp faced woman’s friend “Oh so the french people wrote in English then” Young Language guy” Oh er no its more the way they influenced the way we pronounce things. We have lots of french words er like we say cul-de-sac for a dead-end for instance” Sharp faced woman “Why not just say dead-end?” Young language guy “ Er I don’t know we just do” Sharp faced woman’s friend “ We enjoy to speak the English but we worry about these strange words. What is paedophile?” (she carefully pronounced each phrase turning it into peed O feel) Young Language guy “Ohh um where did you hear that?” Sharp faced Spanish woman’s friend “It was on our free paper this morning it had a picture of a priest is he famous?” Young language guy “Ah no he’s um not famous er it means” he took ages to speak again “Um he’s not very nice towards children” Sharp faced woman “How do you mean this not very nice does he shout at them please to explain” The whole group looked at him with interested expressions. Young language guy “No he um holds them er too close and often without clothing” He was struggling now and the expressions on their faces were a picture. Sharp face woman suddenly brightly “Who of us wants more how do we say scones”
I didn’t get what happened next but they left. I bet they didn’t try out any new words that day!

Londoner’s Life – Overheard 39 by Phil Ryan

I’ve had a frantic week replying to emails and finishing a writing project. But I still had three windows of opportunity to sort out another London overheard. Found myself in Hungerford in Oxford mid- week at a fancy gastro pub. And caught this brief gem from a couple sat watching a traditional looking house barge mooring by the side of a canal. Man to wife pleasantly “Look at that Miriam that’s the kind of life I could get used to” Miriam in a bored tone “I don’t think so you actually have to work quite hard to run one of those things. You are completely useless and workshy and you know it” Ouch! But here’s this week’s stolen moment from a bar at a gig in Central London:

Two Goth looking girls: Girl one “I couldn’t believe it really it’s not like I’m on Facebook that much” Girl two “So he cut you off just like that” Girl one “Yeah I know and I really liked him” Girl two “What made him turn so funny then?” Girl one “Well he saw me updating my status when we were doing it at his mum’s house” Girl two giggling “No” Girl one proudly “Well he was going at it like he does and I figured he was busy and they’ve got that wireless Infinity broadband you know the really fast one. So I replied to a couple of messages” Girl two “What while he was..” Girl one “Hm I mean it was good but sometimes I don’t feel that involved. He used to just shove away for ages and think it was good for me. But I didn’t mind that much. He was sweet really the little noises he’d make” Girl two “So what’d he say?” Girl one “Ah you know the usual it’s not you it’s me but I noticed that he changed his status that night. I mean how insensitive. I’m glad he’s gone cos I really I don’t need that kind of negative energy in my life to be honest” Girl two “So you’re with TZ now right” Girl one “Yeah he’s not that bright but he’s loyal and he’s got a car. Oh yeah and he’s got really nice legs and his bum is like really firm” They then started talking about the bands……..

I must just say at this point in case you think I just make this stuff up. I often record bits with my phone (especially in cafes) and I now carry a small pad and pen everywhere as well of course as my trusty Samsung. So although it might be not exactly the words they are very very very close. Trust me I don’t have this kind of imagination.

Londoners Life 25 by Phil Ryan

Well the snow didn’t hang around thank goodness. But it’ll probably blast back in March! Right now I’m trying to avoid the Mayoral election nonsense. It’s very simple really. All of them are pointless to a large degree. Ken and Boris are arguing about high tube fares who’ll put them down or up – the fact of the matter is that whatever they are far too high and the service is lousy and continues to be lousy. And the fringe candidates are basically invisible. The mad Green woman who looks like a bush was spouting off about punishing car drivers again to save the planet. The failed ex-cop was going on about more police. Er that’s about it. So we’ll get stuck with a fight between two fools who are all about self-promotion and self-advancement. I’ll never forgive Ken for many things but his most offensive crime was building that hideous City Hall building opposite the tower of London.

Desecration. They should lock him up in the Tower Of London and force him to watch Londoners blowing it up as he’s pelted with rotten fruit! And Boris’s ludicrous billion pound buses will arrive soon. Why don’t the pair of just set up a permanent photograph of themselves being laser beamed onto the clouds above London. We get it guys. You love yourselves and couldn’t care about Londoners. Under both of you everything went up, life got harder, travel got worse, more taxes appeared and ultimately you have bugger all power. Remember folks your vote is essentially worthless. Nothing ever gets better or cheaper. Remember that. They could make one of the Muppets Mayor at least it would be entertaining and cheaper.

Travel in London really is getting to be a soul destroying experience. This Friday I had the horrible experience of arriving back at Victoria by train at around 6.30pm. Trying to get to the underground across the station was like swimming in a tide of bodies. Angry depressed bodies who were rooted to the spot necessitating a weird ducking and diving route – it was like a giant desperate game of pacman. And when I finally got to the tube the platforms were pleasantly six deep. Apparently two other tube lines had gone down (the usual reasons – aliens at baker street – a wave of indifference at St Johns Wood – badgers with guns at Charing Cross) and now Victoria was reduced to holding back groups of commuters behind gates a completely common occurrence the miserable and clearly suicidal guard guy told me (I think they’d taken away his laces and belt before they stuck him on the platform with his little microphone). It certainly wasn’t for the faint hearted. London’s underground system seems to just swallow tons of public money now and I honestly can’t see much difference. It’s over-priced and over-crowded (I’m sure that will improve during the Olympics with the expected six million extra journeys they’ve predicted – oh joy)

Talking of our much anticipated London Olympics we now learn that this money sponge for the amusement and enrichment of corporate sponsors and construction companies is into another revelatory moment again. Turns out that the ticket fiasco continues with an American ticket printing company getting the contract to print the tickets instead of a British company, the second revelation that most of the merchandise and goods are produced in China by Chinese companies and just when they couldn’t break anymore promises and commitments we now find out that they’ve let an American company sell tickets to Americans that we Londoners can’t get hold of! I notice that we grabbed back Mr Fred Goodwin’s title what about Lord Coe. If the guy told me it was the morning I’d check with five other people plus look out the window. For a London event paid for in the main by Londoners the guy has simply lied to us time after time. Virtually everything he has promised Londoners hasn’t materialised. And don’t get me started on the LOCOG bunch. Slightly darker in the way they operate than the Syrian regime they have been quietly flogging off the buildings and land to foreign property developers and foreign corporations. The London Olympics? I don’t think so. It’s the International Greed Olympics with all the gold going out the country to everyone except Londoners and Great Britain. But it’s a done deal. Nothing can be done. That’s total corruption with complete government backing for you.

But to finish on a positive point I’ll return to my usual trend spotting game. It really is the new Korean revolution alongside the sushi invasion. Loads of places called Bim Bam Bong and Noodle Beng Bim Bom Bang (Okay I am making these up) seem to be popping up. Udon Noodles are now the order of the day. Just an FYI Udon noodles are those fat disgusting long ones with the consistency of rotting slugs and a similar discomforting sensation when swallowed ( not that I’ve swallowed rotting slugs but go with me on this one) They have also copied that clever Japanese canteen style of making you sit on a cold and cement hard plank like wooden bench. This of course causes people’s buttocks to go numb at the same time that their stomachs are being paralysed with tasteless horror food. All together more of a punishment than a dining experience. But hey it’s fashionable. And in London we like our variety. And when I asked some people I was jammed next to recently in a Korean restaurant what they thought of the food they all told me it was challenging! Very London. And despite the pointless mayoral elections and Olympic fiasco do any of us truly care. No. We just get on with our lives. Why? It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 24 – by Phil Ryan

Londoner’s Life 24 – By Phil Ryan
Abandon hope it’s snowing! I hope you all note that I your Frost London columnist predicted the snow! It arrived last night as I left a fantastic Thai restaurant on the Harrow Road (more of a café really as it’s the size of a large packet of cornflakes) But it’s called Boys Thai and its cheap and good. I got in the car to return home and all my fancy gizmos kicked in to stop me sliding all over the shop. But on my very slow and careful thirty minute journey home (usually fifteen) I passed three cars broken down and two crashes! Admittedly the wind was fierce and cold and the snow was falling steadily but wow. But it’s North London not Alaska. If the Iranians would switch from trying to make nuclear weapons to making snow we’d all be screwed! As I sit and write the airports across London are closed, the trains have virtually ground to a halt and only one or two tube lines are running a service. It’s barely three inches out there. I just measured it with a ruler.
And so my fortune tellers guide to the London media this week in sound bites (with the actual truth in italics).
Council spokesperson: “We had our gritters out immediately and found the snow fall outpaced our capacity. And of course our main priorities remain vital main roads as opposed to residential side streets” TRUTH “Sid and Kamil from the depot bumbled about a bit dropped a few tons of salt we had out the back in the remaining trucks we didn’t flog cheap five years back and went home. We haven’t got that much salt as it’s expensive and the lads don’t like going up side streets as they can’t drive at breakneck speed”
Airport spokesperson: “We would like to apologise to passengers for the ongoing disruption but we are attempting to maximise passenger safety” TRUTH “Listen cattle these planes ain’t cheap so we are not going to get any of them grubby or damaged just for you whiny lot. Plus what do you expect for £60?”
Government spokesperson: “The recent snowfall has been unprecedented however we have a good stock of road salt and are confident that our efforts to keep the roads and transport systems running will be successful” TRUTH “Suckers”
The Mayor “I would like to congratulate all my departments for their valiant efforts and my colleagues at TFL for keeping London moving” TRUTH “Every bloody year the same disaster er do you reckon the great unwashed will forget about it in the coming elections?”
So the cold weather will probably result in the usual paralysed city nonsense for a week or two and then we’ll forget about it and carry on like we do every year. My advice. Panic buy weird stuff to confuse the big 4 supermarkets. Don’t buy water and bread. Buy paper napkins and Peruvian Beaver tea.
And yes the London Mayoral elections are slowly unrolling. And of course it’s the usual two clowns. The Boris and Ken nonsense as usual. Not a decent candidate apart from that ex civil service woman Siobhan Benita who actually seems normal. But don’t quote me. You have Brian Paddick for the Lib Dems who seems to resemble Beaker from the Muppets more and more. His grand idea is to increase Police numbers in London until we all get our own constable apparently. Then for the Green Party that mad old bint Jenny Jones whose hair appears to expand year on year until she comes across as more of an animated shrubbery than a human. Her ideas include and I’m guessing here – free bicycles on the NHS – solar powered clothing and returning to living in caves to cut down on greenhouse gases. And in truth what do they all have in common? Taxation. Yes that’s about it. They all stand around dreaming up new ways to charge us for stuff that was once free and they promise us a glittering new future with wind powered triple decker buses made out of wicker and better schools etc etc. My local council Camden (or the Politburo as they are usually known) have been busily closing down most of the things we pay Council Tax for (begging the question what do I actually get for my money – answer – very little apart from an overbearing grim implacable bureaucracy) And now they’re handing over most of our libraries to small local consortia as they don’t want to pay for them anymore. And I like the idea in principle instead of them being closed and flogged to private vampiric property developers, although it’s great for Camden who can now waste even more of our money on digging up the streets on a monthly basis and voting themselves pay rises.
But local libraries could be the new community centres if the locals get it right. Cheap cafeterias, things for toddlers, the unemployed and the elderly. But how does it get paid for. Yes you’ve guessed it. We’ll have to pay for it. Not a lot mind I understand. A quid a go probably. Side effects local cafes won’t be delighted and nor will those who USED TO GET IT FOR FREE.
Ho hum. But finally back to the snow fall in London. I just watched the news and the truth is we’re doomed. Apart from the sounds of champagne corks popping in the British Gas offices I can hear nothing – just the sound of happy kids and damp parents from every park across town. But is it a problem? No buses no tubes no trains. Nah. Why? It’s a London thing.

 

 

Londoners Life 23 – by Phil Ryan

Yes the cold snap is starting to hit London. Weather forecasts predict us being hit with snow flurries very soon. And we all know what London does when 2 centimetres of snow arrives! And just as we were coming to terms with the white death we then then got more scares over an oil depot going into receivership. Now we get stories about also being hit with petrol prices in London shooting up to £2.00 a litre and all of us freezing in our cars as we ran out of fuel in sub-zero temperatures on the M40. (Although I suspect they are just softening us up as they’ll get to that petrol price level within 6 months at this rate anyway regardless of oil depots closing – not including death on the M40) And for the first time ever I briefly toyed with the idea of one of those electric cars as I am noticing more of those blue charging posts as I whiz around town in my gas guzzler. But to be honest when all is said and done they are just old fashioned milk floats with a bit more comfort and zero style. I mean have you seen those G-whiz things. Is it me but does everyone who drives them look huge and somehow ghoulish – little eyes screwed in concentration as they avoid trying to hit a pigeon or a crisp packet which would probably spell instant death for them and anyone stupid enough to be their passenger. They look like damaged egg cartons with comedy tiny wheels where a human has been forced inside like some novelty act from Cirque du Soleil. And you can feel the smug waves coming off them from a hundred feet away. Look at me I’m saving the planet. But to balance it out they all look very weird and devoid of cool and have the tensile strength of a bowl of porridge. And yes I know the new Renault ones look a lot more cool – but still drive a Renault? However London of course is now leading the way with more and more electric vehicles now being put onto our streets to silently mow down children, the elderly and the slow moving. Many London Councils are rolling them out as Council vans and maintenance cars. Quiet death from your local service provider. Perhaps they’re thinning out the vulnerable in a bizarre cost cutting drive nothing would surprise me where local Councils are concerned. (I think Westminster have introduced recently culling of the poor haven’t they?) But the march of the electric car moves forwards. Green yes but you can’t hear them coming!!!! If I had my way I’d fit them all with a loud clockwork toy noise. That’d brighten up your day wouldn’t it?
One observation I’ll make is about the various foreign embassies we have across London. Some of them are in the weirdest of places. For instance Tonga’s embassy is in a residential street off the Hendon Way – how very glamorous. But others have very swish addresses in Knightsbridge and the West End. But my main thought is the amount of protests outside half of them. Concerned citizens of each country seem to now gather on a weekly basis to shout at those inside. I’m not sure the rulers of the various countries are paying much interest and my guess is they’re not actually in the building. The Ambassadors are probably somewhere else too – you know getting piles of Ferrero Roche at some fancy black tie function. So in effect the protesters are shouting at a bunch of secretaries and cleaners. But I realise they have to show these repressive governments that in London at least free speech is fine and dandy. Good luck I say. Although I do get a bit miffed when the protestors attack the poor police folk who turn up trying to keep the peace. I’m not sure it’s sending a signal to Syria to stop killing their own people by punching Constable Smith sharply on the nose. But when they protest here we’ll protect them which of course is right and proper. But then sometimes they shout about the fact that we in Britain shouldn’t let their bad governments stay in power while often shouting anti-western slogans. All very confusing I fear.
Now a new bugbear with me in 2012 is London Theatre ticket prices. They seem to be heading skywards and I’m not sure it’s healthy for good theatre. I realise that with rising rents and costs these shows are costly but come on. Half the theatres are up to £85 for a seat you can actually see the stage from and don’t even get me started on the cost of drinks and snacks. Just like cinemas and service stations it seems that theatres are now operating an ‘alternative universe’ policy. Whereby the costs of normal things are inflated to such an extent that people hand over the cash whilst still in a state of shock. On what world is a bag of Maltesers £5.00 and a glass of wine £9.50! I’d take all the impresarios knighthoods back just like they did to Mr Fred Goodwin. So Mr Macintosh and Mr Lloyd Weber tell me when is it reasonable to pay £5.00 for two mouthfuls of ice cream and £10.00 for a programme? A paperback novel costs less and has had a damn sight more creative energy poured into it. If you honestly want kids and anyone on a low income to embrace the theatre stop being so damn greedy. I originally thought that Wicked and Les Miserables were show titles not descriptions of how the pricing policy works and makes the audience feel.
Finally more rip off nonsense from The Olympic legacy Company. It seems that us Londoners have paid £93 billion pounds to give away land, housing and stadiums to a host of private companies who will charge us through the nose to either visit or use facilities we’ve already paid for! I think every scrap of Olympic housing stock should be turned over to Social Housing – after all it was paid for by the public. And the stadiums should be free to Londoners who paid for them whether they wanted to or not. And look out for the ridiculous concept of Stratford International Station whose train station doesn’t even connect to Europe directly! Instead you have to slope off back to St Pancras. Shouldn’t they just re-name it Stratford Local or something? But when you ask the locals they just shrug and smile about the whole fiasco. Do they care? No. It’s a London thing.

 

Londoner's LIfe 20 – By Phil Ryan

Ah the London January sales! This year they have an added importance in that according to figures they may be the last big spend before austerity 2012 is completely with us all and we have to start rooting through bins courtesy of George Osborne and his millionaire pals. However getting Londoners to give up conspicuous shopping is akin to getting fish to give up water so don’t hold your breath on the collapse of the high streets just yet. So after re-adjusting to the fact that the great vague days were finally over and I could leave the twilight zone days of Christmas behind me I headed into Town. My local Council have opted for the most pathetic decorations this year – basically about ten bare bulbs and some decaying green glitter from last year blu tacked to it – giving the entire high street the appearance of a walk in STD clinic with slightly less cheer. As usual for the holiday period I had lost track of which day it actually was – constantly checking my blackberry for re-assurance. Not that which day it was mattered technically. Everything shuts or opens incomprehensibly in London at this festive time especially our superb Transport network (this year I think they were trying a ‘use your legs replacement service’ approach). The surprise strikes from the unions seem eminently reasonable as they always are at this time EVERY SINGLE year without fail. Struggling by on a £40,000 plus salary with free travel must be a drag. And I do see that working on a day you don’t fancy is a bit of a pain. But didn’t they sign up for it when they started or are their working days a pick and mix job for them? Sweet huh? Usually I support unions but this lot are now officially beyond a greedy joke. Not I might add that I have any warm feelings to the bozos that allegedly run TFL (including I might add a lot of them on hundreds of thousands of pounds to run a lousy and uncoordinated service) That all said after just twenty three handy and in no way inconvenient changes by way of Cardiff I found myself at Bond Street tube.

A friend had invited me to meet for tea and somehow just to kill some time I found myself wandering through some shops on my way there. In a sale! Oh my god. House of Fraser looked like a scene from a Bosch painting. Grim faced loons squashed together like battery chickens rummaging through masses of ugly jumpers and shirts that are only in fashion during a total eclipse. Lines of ever grimly smiling staff carefully re-folding everything a matter of minutes later. The only thing missing were bare buttocked devils gouting fire from their eyes although I think I saw a few queuing up at the Calvin Klein concession. Still in shock I made the terrible decision to pop into HMV in Oxford Street where the staff had dropped all pretence at being anything but hacked off. Two wardrobes in shirts saying security kept bellowing “Don’t block the aisles it’s a safety hazard MOVE PLEASE MOVE it’s all about SAFETY” and glaringly waving their walkie talkies around like surrogate light sabres. The counters were manned by gimlet eyed dudes who at least seemed quite chilled when they took your money although they did all have a glassy rohipnol look about them. I suspect they’d been given something. But my favourites were the harassed looking shelf re-stockers. No sooner had they ripped open a box of whatever the manic punters gathered behind them were after they would hiss loudly “Please wait until we have put them onto the shelves” presumably muttering the words “you ravenous mindless scum” under their breath judging by their pained expressions. I saw a crowd six deep virtually slobbering as for some odd reason they waited patiently behind a makeshift nylon tape barrier as some Harry Potter boxed sets of DVD’s appeared. There was a surge for goodness sake. A surge. Some grinning HMV manager kept shouting only a few left. Which quite frankly just fanned the flames. But it clearly gave him a thrill. One punter was actually holding a wand and he looked to be about thirty four.

Making my escape I finally ended up in Selfridges which I think now holds the outright London award for amazingly surreal prices and stock next to Harrods. I looked at a tie which had been slashed from £300 to just £200. And then I ran my fingers over some shirts which would’ve made Stevie Wonder gag. Honestly, bright just doesn’t come close to describing their lime electric silk and leather splendour. But just who is wearing this mad stuff and where? Especially the latest in sartorial elegance the Swarofski crystal encrusted training shoes a snip at £700.00 a pair. They finally broke my wafer thin desire to stay and fight through hordes of slow moving crowds all in thrall to the great shop. Trying to make my way down the street was like taking part in some alternate universe flash mob comedy penguin shuffle. So I left. By taxi. Heading for Patisserie Valerie and some sanity. And as per usual I noted that everything I eventually bought wasn’t in the sale. Ho hum. But do Londoner’s feel the sales are a rip off. Probably. Would Londoners like all the visitors to the sales to naff off? Definitely. But do they worry themselves about such issues? No. It’s a London thing.