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Andrew Gilligan: No-Go Area

February 18, 2009 By Andrew Gilligan

At the bottom of my road, where it meets Royal Hill, there is every few seconds a sad little tableau. An impatient car (how can a car look impatient, you ask? But it does) drives up to the junction from the London direction. The driver slows to turn into my street, then notices the big notice saying “Road closed – No access to Shooters Hill,” whereupon he speeds up again and heads for the permanant traffic jam that is now central Greenwich.

At the top of my road, where it meets the A2, there is an even more poignant sight: a constant parade of U-turning drivers who have ignored the sign at the bottom of the road (there’s so little trust in government these days, isn’t there?) and driven all the way up, bashing the road humps in their haste, only to find that the warning is in fact correct, and their path is blocked by a high fence and an orange wall of traffic cones. Like that BBC reporter in the Falklands, I sit in my study window, counting them all out, then counting them all back.

For forty-eight hours now, pretty much every side street in West Greenwich has been filled with probing, questing motor vehicles, desperately trying to find an eastbound route without a 45-minute queue – and failing every time. The main roads are just filled. During this evening’s rush-hour, traffic was completely solid on Greenwich High Road, with something like 250 crawling cars between the Deptford Broadway lights and St Alfege’s church. Much of Blackheath village, too, is at a standstill. The old buildings of both places shudder beneath a constant parade of heavy lorries. Horns and emergency service sirens wail into the night.

The cause, as we probably all know by now, is that TfL have closed the eastbound A2 between the bottom of Blackheath Hill (at the junction with Greenwich South Street) and Charlton Way/ Shooters Hill Road. For the next two months. To install a cycle lane.

I happened to be up very early on Sunday morning, when the closure first went into effect. From 5.30am on the quietest day of the week, there was a procession of dozens of cars down my street as the first stage of the diversions kicked in. That was when I knew that this was going to be bad.

Even most foot access has been blocked by the fence – there’s only one pedestrian gap in it between the tea hut and Dartmouth Hill. West Greenwich has been cut off from Blackheath by land, air and sea.

Now, I’m a cyclist – I’ve never driven or owned a car in my life – and I’ve spent years asking for more cycle lanes. But I really don’t think that essentially pouring a giant vat of glue over the whole of Greenwich and Blackheath for the next eight weeks is a price worth paying for this one.

For one thing, there are already three parallel, and far nicer, cycle routes to the A2 – along Dartmouth Hill, Hare and Billet Road, Mounts Pond Road and Long Pond Road; up through the park to Vanbrugh Park; and along the river and through the grounds of the naval college. That last one doesn’t even involve a hill.

Even the justification in TfL’s own press release is rather carefully worded: “This stretch of the A2 runs through Blackheath, an area that attracts many cyclists and pedestrians,” they say. The “area,” yes. The A2, not so much.

The other reason for the closure is so that TfL can “reconstruct the carriageway” and install new streetlights. But what exactly is wrong with the current streetlights? What does reconstruction mean – does it mean resurfacing? What was wrong with the previous surface? Why does it all have to take two months? (Why, for instance, aren’t they working at night on the stretch across the heath, since there are no residents to disturb?) And let us not forget that the Blackheath Hill stretch of the road was subject to “reconstruction” only five years ago following the Blackheath Hole collapse.

The cynic in me does wonder whether this is another part of “Transport for Livingstone’s” historic jihad against motorists. Perhaps closing down this main arterial route is another way of showing those despised creatures (many of whom, to compound their offence, are white, heterosexual men from the suburbs) the error of their ways.

The other historic Transport for Livingstone impulse that this closure clearly satisfies is the need to spend large amounts of money on projects which don’t seem of obvious or front-rank importance.

You may, of course, object that Ken is no longer in charge. But this was presumably planned when he still was; and in any case, for the most part, under the new regime, TfL has gone on pretty much as before. Recently, I described to an appreciative senior City Hall figure some of the more bonkers ways in which TfL has been wasting money, ways that need to be mended rather more urgently than the A2 if the organisation is to survive the downturn with its services intact.

For the next eight weeks, though, we appear to be stuck with this. Let’s hope it is just eight weeks, shall we? Let’s hope the works don’t overrun; let’s hope, above all, that they don’t open up the Blackheath Hill hole again and let us in for another two years of local traffic hell. They’re bound to have thought of that, aren’t they? Aren’t they?

Filed Under: Andrew Gilligan Tagged With: A2, Hyde Vale, Royal Hill, Shooters Hill, TFL

Tower Incognita

December 2, 2008 By Andrew Gilligan

HURRAH – Severndroog Castle has been saved! What droog castle, I hear you ask? And what has a Midlands river got to do with Greenwich? Don’t worry, I haven’t gone all provincial on you: this Severndroog Castle is on Shooters Hill.

You go up the main road until you have to get off your bike and push. The turnoff is almost opposite one of my favourite local pubs, the Red Lion – that rarity among its now themed, gastro’d, tarted up, or plain closed-down brethren, a pub which is still what we once used to call normal.

The castle is a triangular tower, built by a Lady James in what was then her back garden as a memorial to her husband. The original Severndroog was a pirate fort on the west coast of India which Sir William James captured for the British East India Company, thus preventing the company’s ships from suffering the same inconveniences as, shall we say, modern-day oil tankers off the Somali coast.

When Sir William dropped dead at his daughter’s wedding, his wife decided to make sure that he lived forever on the skyline. Sixty-three feet above what is already a pretty steep hill, the tower is one of London’s tallest places. Pretty hard to miss, you might think – but Lady James reckoned without Greenwich Council.

After passing into public ownership, the tower eventually ended up with the GLC – and in 1986, after that was abolished, with the London Borough of Greenwich. There’d been a public tearoom there – but the council closed it, along with the rest of the building, leaving decades of obscurity and easy pickings for vandals.

In a full-circle kind of touch which Sir William James might have appreciated, the tower was occupied for a while by the transmitting equipment of a pirate radio station. Later, in a further sign of its well-known commitment to the borough’s heritage, Greenwich tried to turn the whole place over to a property developer and convert it into offices.

This week, however, the Heritage Lottery Fund has come across with more than £250,000 to reopen the tower four days a week, and once again allow Londoners to gaze over eight counties from the top-floor viewing platform.

Last week I told you about the obvious local places that everybody has been to except me – the observatory, Rangers House and so on. This week, in the second part of Confessions Of A Columnist, I will admit that I much prefer going to un-obvious places that not all that many people seem to know about. Our area is stuffed with them, and Severndroog is one.

Some of them you can even get inside. Have you ever been to Eltham Palace? It is the most extraordinary place, a suave masterpiece of Thirties ocean-liner style in the shell of a medieval building. The work of the Courtauld textile millionaires, the Russian oligarchs of their day, it exudes a smoking-jacketed opulence that makes the Candy brothers look like MFI.

Virginia Courtauld’s vaulted en-suite bathroom is lined with onyx and gold mosaic, with a statue of the goddess Psyche. All the furniture is hand-made to fit precisely the proportions of the rooms. In one of those wonderfully complicated “futuristic” touches, all the rooms have connections to a central suction pipe to which the servants attached an early version of the vacuum cleaner.

Even the Courtaulds’ pet lemur, Mah-Jongg, had his own heated cage, from where he would descend a special ladder to bite the chauffeurs. But perhaps the key to all the extravagance lies in a small cupboard off the pantry, which contains a pay phone for the Courtaulds’ house guests. You don’t get this loaded without watching the pennies.

Eltham Palace is open four days a week until December 20th – and the day I went, I had the place to myself. So although I will get round to the Maritime Museum, and the observatory, I strongly recommend everyone else gets round to some of those lesser-known favourites of mine.

Filed Under: Andrew Gilligan Tagged With: Severndroog Castle, Shooters Hill

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