Apr 212014
 
Sherlock Holmes and the Howling Desert of South London

by Lucy Munro
I’ve been re-reading Sherlock Holmes. Not in the doorstopper collection with almost see-through paper that I bought when I was about thirteen and lugged to school and back for a blissful fortnight, immersed in its foggy miasma and gleefully drinking in the details of Holmes’ not-so-secret drug habit. No, this time I’m encountering Holmes in a £1.99 Wordsworth paperback comprising everything up to his demise at the Reichenbach Falls, a death from which he was never intended to return. [read more...]

Mar 102014
 

“Do I look like someone who needs a sorbet-maker?” he dolefully asks the bleary-eyed flotsam piled up on the N3’s stairs as birthday gifts are passed between strangers for appraisal.

Jul 312013
 
Stepping Across The Thames

by Matt Haynes
Out here, the river’s still allowed to undo its buttons twice a day and slob out across the mud with primordial glee. For one of the Thames’s more discombobulating quirks is that it’s wider upstream than down, where it’s been artificially banked and trammelled – no one paddles on the beach outside Lambeth Palace any more, not since Mr Bazalgette’s embankments went up in the 1860s and the Archbishop lost his deckchair concession. [read more...]

Jul 012013
 
Urban Intervention No. 51

On sunny lunchtimes, dress up as a giant duck and then sit by the lake in St James’s Park throwing torn off chunks of Ginsters pasties at tourists.

Apr 092013
 
It Grows On You, Like A Rash

by Jess Sully
A known introvert from a town with wide skies and a vast, shimmering expanse of sea, I didn’t think I’d be happy among the hemmed-in crowds. What I didn’t realise then is that within the anonymity of the ever-flowing throng, those shoals of fast-moving fish who swoop and turn as one entity, I could move silently, unobtrusive and unremarkable. And now I know, too, that sometimes at low tide the Thames smells of brine and seaweed. [read more...]

Aug 172012
 
London's Campest Statues Nos. 9A and 9B

by Matt Haynes
Yes, his toga may be worn rather too casually off the shoulder, and reveal an unnecessary amount of nipple for daytime discourse in the forum, but – that’s Romans for you! Ah, but he’s NOT a Roman. He’s William Huskisson MP; who, having already cheated death once – when a horse fell on him during his honeymoon – later found fame as the world’s first railway fatality, after being hit by Stephenson’s Rocket just outside Newton-le-Willows. [read more...]

Jun 102012
 
Victoria


by Howard Colyer
Adam White said that he was approached by two tramps near Victoria Station who asked him if he was carrying a dictionary. He asked them why. And they said it was to settle a dispute. [read more...]