Only in Britain...

....would Big Brother spy cameras be viewed as a 'facility'.

Gee, thanks for that. I'll have a prison and maybe a couple of politicians with that.

Spotted at Eastleigh station near Southampton.

Stockholm holiday: Suburbia

Some contrasting suburbs here.

Firstly, a picture at the end of the green line (Hogas-something). This felt a bit scummy though I'm sure its pretty safe. There seemed to be more kids running around here.


And, taking the green line again, this time to Alvik, then at the end of the number 12 tram, here is a rather pleasant 'burb.

I wouldn't mind living here - the houses, even the flats were nice and large, and relatively low density compared the suburbs at the end of the metro lines we journeyed to. The tram, unlike every other form of Swedish transport we encountered, was a prime relic of the 50s, with a very loud low-geared motor which sounded like it was being controlled by switchgear made in someone's garden shed. Great to know this kind of transportation still runs, as it has all but disappeared (albeit slowly) from Britain.

Stockholm holiday: taking the hiss

A "hiss" in Swedish is an elevator. The one shown in first pic is quite a high one, going up the side of a building (which itself is on the side of a cliff). Below is the hiss itself, taken at dusk, and some views of the city taken from it the next day when it was running.

Stockholm holiday: Savile Row and the Kultur-al hub

Here are some pictures I took of central Stockholm.


Bus stop. Where the frig is the tram. We waited for while. It didn't come. This was just after doing the boat trip.

I'm flattered by the fact that this fashion shop has borrowed the famous street where tailor made suits are made in London. I also like the postcode, which of course should be W1.


This place, a building full of cinemas and theatres, really reminded me of Alexanderplatz. Now, Alexanderplatz in Berlin, before 1992 looked like a concrete shopping precinct, knocked up in the average British town around 1968 in order to add a modernist yet cosmopolitan look and feel. I grew up with such centres (the one in Uxbridge was until the mid 80s an appealing concrete carbuncle which I honestly liked a great deal. This has nothing to do with Sweden, except the area around the Central Station brings me back to those heady days of 1976 before we discovered marble. Wonderful and extremely nostalgic. OK, this is its a bit posher than the Arndale Centre, Wandsworth - but only just. You know the druggies are only a few steps away, and if this were a town in England, they would be there by fountains injecting themselves or passing round the can of Tennants Super.

Nearly gone

Three days after the last shot ("A good bashing") this is how the Thames View flats appeared at 9 this morning.

Going....going...

Graduation, party, pies, crap journey

Had a busy few days. On Friday, we saw Daughter Daggers Dukc graduate. I’d publish a piccy of this, but I wouldn’t want to compromise her anonymity.

A very proud moment for daddy and mummy Dukc.

Spent the remainder of Friday in Oxford with my mum- and sister-in-law and two dukcs and discovered The Grapes pub, an easy going amble from Gloucester Green. Highly recommended for its food, price and super-friendly landlady. She runs a very tight ship indeed. The two meals for £9 offer is beyond belief in such an expensive city.

Later that day, headed from Oxford the Brummingham for a friend’s party on the Saturday, staying at a Travel Lodge – more on that and the Little Chef next door in a separate entry methinks. Saturday was completed with a trip to Wolverhampton for a few beers followed by the party itself.

Finally, spent Sunday eating a culinary delight at the Mad O’Rourke’s Old Pie Factory, a legendary eating spot in the West Midlands. Mrs DD struggled with, but wolfed down whole the famous Desperate Dan Pie (picture below) and I had the Bob Marley pie, filled with a rather peppery version of jerk chicken (lots of good quality chicken, quite spicy). Unlike the cow pie this pie is somewhat diminutive, so if you should ever find yourself in the Dudley area, and you’ve a hunger on, go for the Desperate Dan. More on this mythical beast, and the pub itself, below.

www.madpies.co.uk


That pie really gives me the horn


I realise this place deserves a full review, and I will write up one when and if I get the time to do so.

After the cow pie experience we then had to get home from the Pie Factory in Tipton, near Dudley. Dudley to London isn’t a neighbourhood trip, but don’t see how you could do this more slowly other than by walking it. So, for the record, here’s last night’s trip home in full detail.

Getting home was deep phun. That’s the extreme version of fun with a P H. The kind of phun you get when a beloved brother dies or you wake up thinking it’s a Sunday morning, only to remember that Sunday didn’t register because of an extended hangover, and it is in fact a Monday. And 9.30am. You have to say it with a heavy, heavy dose of irony. PPPHHHHUN.

In fact you could say that the phun just went on and on….and on and on and on and on and on and on. And on. And phuncking on. Here’s our phun then.

1500 – waited for bus to Dudley by Pie Factory.

1520 – bus came (no. 300, an old L registered Dart)

1540– 126 bus to Birmingham from Dudley bus station.

1620 – arrived in Birmingham New Street

1800 – coach arrived (we could not get one before then as they were all booked up). There weren’t any cancellations.

1830 – the “1800” coach ended up being the 1830. Coach full of Ilford chavs, who actually turned out to be quite nice, helping Mrs DD o the khazi and not stealing our rucksacks.*

2045 – Arrival – Golders Green

2115 – Monument. District delayed, but one turned up. After 15 minutes. No announcements or explanations, other than letting us know that the clockwise Circle line was not running. We tried to care. And failed.

2138 – at Tower Hill, driver announced that there was no replacement bus service between Barking and East Ham because of an accident in the area which was blocking everything up. A pain, but he probably saved us a joint suicide attempt.

2148 – Fenchurch Street, C2C station. We miss the connecting train, which runs parallel to the District Line. Because of the District engineering, was set to run a limited service of half hourly, by 3 mins.

2215 – C2C leaves for Barking.

2240 – Bus replacement picks us up.

2255 – Bus replacement arrives at DaggersDukc East.

2302 - We get home.


Please note that the last time I travelled by coach, my lovely leather jacket was stolen from beneath my seat as I slept for 15 seconds. Needless to say, I was deeply upset, and 20 years later, still bear the scars, despite trauma counselling and many bottles of Holsten Pils. And the arsehole that got off between Middlesbrough and Sunderland – I hope the spirit of he cow from which the jacket was hewn rose up and throttled you with its skin as you bragged to your friends about how smart you were.

Stockholm holiday: boat cruise

We took a boat trip around and about the canals and rivers of Stockholm and these are some of the views- actually I wish I'd remembered to take my camera out earlier, as there was some particularly mournful shots to be taken under the bridges at Slussen.

I did manage to capture a few pictures of some waterside apartments - OK, I hate the word, I'm British, and I meant FLATS. I actually rather like this design which seems to appearing in every city where young wealthy singletons or couples live - the London papers are full of identikit models.



And here is the inside of the boat itself. I'm glad the Swedish flag is on board - in England some dickhead would accuse the boat owner of being racist or something sad. Unless you carry the politically OK (just about) Union Jack.

A good bashing

We interrupt our coverage of Sweden to bring you a few pictures of some flats, specifically those on the Thames View Estate in Barking, being bashed to bits. Took these on my way into work this morning. I wonder if this will still be there on Monday?

That pink paint job in one of the rooms is most interesting. Was it a kid's bedroom, perhaps?

Stockholm Holiday: A right proper estate

Now, there are ways to build a communist style estate. If you were communist, naturally you'd plonk 40 identical tower blocks, put a windswept motorway between them and the tube station and make sure the shops were an inconvenient walk away, and probably ensure that they weren't worth getting to due to lack of stock anyway. That's once you've negotiated the perimeter of the steelworks. People would kill themselves or attempt to obtain high cholesterol alcohol to cope with the daily grind.

However, the Swedes had a different idea. Built 'em nice. Build them with fountains. Put greenery everywhere. Include kids by putting playgrounds in view of the flats, and make sure all the rusty bits and splinters get removed regularly. And what's wrong with a little local dining at places you don't mind going to? And the steelworks? Yes, it exists. Except its a high technology area called Krista, just up the road, with the Swedish HQs of Ericsson and IBM at its centre.

If you're going to do mass housing, you may as well do it right. And Stockholm has. Rarely have I been to a housing estate which feels less like a dumping ground for what the local authority considers its problematic inhabitants, and more of a haven for the kind of middle class people (or those aspiring to be middle class) who wouldn't admit to living in a council flat over here. If our council flats were built to these standards and boasted such facilities, our national obsession with being a so-called home owning democracy would be made a nonsense.

Greenery outside the station. Is it a park?



No, its a housing estate.




And just to prove graffiti exists in the Stockholm 'burbs, this message was found taped to the pissoir in the restaurant at which we'd just consumed a delicious meal.

Stockholm Holiday: Rocky Rails

Here are some pictures taken at Morby Central metro station.

The walls may be carved out of the rock, but the station is thoroughly modern. No dripping water here (unlike in London!)

And here's a mural, found in the same station.

Stockholm holiday: the hotel

Our hotel was a closed-down swimming pool. Apparently, the Stockholm local authority is building, or indeed, has built, a replacement elsewhere. I can imagine this pool being a rather fine place to have swum at, surrounded as it is by a small park and centrally located for convenience. Still, it served rather well as a hotel - apparently the rooms were the original pool changing areas.

Mrs D is on the bed to give a sense of scale. It was taken with my backside pressed against the door, so size is certainly on the New York model of hotel rooms. No mod cons here, not even a cupboard or wardrobe. I have to say though that the beds were extremely comfortable, and it was immaculately clean. Seeing as this was a budget hotel, by Swedish standards at least, we were pretty pleased with it overall, once we abandoned the idea of getting a hotel for our money - more a very well-run hostel.

Stockholm holiday - Arrival

We appeared in the city at about midnight after taking the expensive Arlanda Express train from the main airport. After faffing around at T-Centraalen interchange, we found our route to Odenplan station, and a short walk onwards to our hotel.



This was our view en route. I love the street lighting here, mercury vapour lamps which cast a white-purple glow over the street - you don't see these too often in London any more, though they used to festoon Walthamstow and parts of West Drayton and Harmondsworth near Heathrow, until the mid-80s.

I bet these look rather magical shining on winter snow.

Stockholm holiday - intro

After baiting my breath for many weeks, my beloved wifey surprised me by informing me that the trip we were about to undertake for our annual wayzgoose was in fact one to a city I've wanted to go to since 1976, when I purchase out of my own hard won cash, Arrival by Abba. It took me an age to to save enough to buy this classic album from Woolies in Southall, at I think, £2.79, but my seven year self had just had a birthday, which must have helped considerably. I played the eponymous track and was blown away. Scaring my sis by playing "I Am the Tiger" on our shared record player, while she slept in bed was also a bonus. The "bad thing" creeping through the city streets was never so musically delciious.

The album cover proclaimed that it had been recorded at Polar Studio, Stockholm, Sweden. Alas, the studios are no more, driven out by high rents in this expensive city, but Stockholm itself is a wonderful place despite this.

Over the next few weeks, I'll be posting some photos taken on my phone. To call these unusual is possibly over-egging the pudding somewhat, but there are only a few touristy shots. Stockholm is renowned for its art and fashion. I don't see enough to really get art, unless it i in my face, and we're too old and cumudgeonly to care much about goings-on in the fashionista world. So there are going to be unfashionable suburbs and occasional shots of metro stations.