No Escape from Mr Dickens
My wife and I are standing in a long queue of hot, sweaty passengers unhappy at the delays caused by Italian traffic security at Pisa airport. I strike up a conversation with a smiley lady in front of us who, I find out very quickly, is from Sydney, Australia flying to Bristol by EasyJet and has six children scattered around the world. We exchanged pleasantries and she tells me that she has been at an international conference in nearby Carrera – the famous marble quarrying area near Pisa.
“Conference on what?”, I ask.
“Oh, I have just attended the Charles Dickens International Conference, as part of the International Dickens Society”.
“Why in Carrera” I ask. Michelle (we were on first name terms by then) reminded me that Charles Dickens spent a couple of summers in this part of Italy in the 1840s. I then can’t resist telling her that I am a Camden guide and that it is virtually impossible to do any walk in Central London, but particularly in the Bloomsbury area without mentioning the great Charles Dickens.
Michelle then got quite excited when I told her that my offices were actually next door to Tavistock House, an old home of Charles Dickens, where he wrote Bleak House, Little Dorrit and Hard Times. She has travelled all over the world with the Dickens Society and next year the International Conference was meeting in her home town of Sydney, Australia. She pretty much told me that I needed to be there!
She said that she has been president of the Society for a year then gave me her card – it turns out she is a member of the New South Wales Dickens Society.
For those that do guiding, it is impossible to avoid Mr Dickens. On reading the latest edition of The Big Issue, there was story about one of The Big Issue vendors, Dave, who sells the magazine near the Charles Dickens museum. As a result of the museum’s intervention, he met a lady called Marianne Lloyd, who turns out to be none other than the great, great granddaughter of the famous novelist.
In Camden, Mr Dickens is everywhere. He is in Somers Town, he is in Cleveland Street, he is in Tavistock Square and of course, mostly he is in Doughty Street – the only original house that Dickens lived in, which still exists and which houses the Charles Dickens’ museum. I also now know that Mr Dickens is truly everywhere, inspiring people across the globe with his much-loved fictional characters and gritty depiction of Victorian London. He’s even in Pisa airport.
info@londonpersonally for information on Charles Dickens Walking Tours in London.
Stan Harris OBE
Like many people, I look forward to lunchtimes not only as a chance to get out of the office and stretch my legs, but also to explore the area and eat in one of Bloomsbury’s numerous cafes. Even in a relatively settled Bloomsbury, things change at an amazing pace. A much loved restaurant, Balfours, which was always packed out with business people and students at lunchtime and with locals and tourists in the evening has become La Bonne Vivant and seems to be rather empty most days I go past.
On the other hand, the Bloomsbury Café in its basement premises at the bottom of a small hotel in Tavistock Place continues to thrive, although sometimes finding a space amongst all the laptops and mobile phone devices in exchange for a very good flat white or cappuccino can prove to be difficult.
As with many other parts of London, the number of places where you can eat seems to grow organically every time I wonder around the area. New coffee places seem to open up with the regularity and speed of the hour hand on the Dent clock at St Pancras station.
When I moved in to the area 22 years ago, I found 50 eating establishments within 10-minutes’ walk of the office – effectively in a half-mile radius of Tavistock Square. It took you to Tottenham Court Road in the West, half-way up Evershed Street towards Mornington Crescent station to the North, Grays Inn Road in the East and as a far South as High Holborn. The result of that methodical slave-ish obsession of trying every single sandwich bar and restaurant, I found my favourites.
Three of them still exist, so I am sharing them with you. In Chalcot Street, just north of the Euston Road is Albertino’s. It was pretty much a sandwich bar originally. Now it is a fully fledged restaurant that serves some of the best pizzas and pasta in the area and where not only the food is first class but the service remains as friendly as the welcome I received the first time I ate there more than 15 years ago. Family run, I take clients and colleagues there regularly to dine. An added bonus during the summer is that there are a dozen tables outside so you can watch the interesting life that Somers Town provides, drift past as you tuck in to your delicious chicken Caesar salad or Albertino’s homemade chicken escalope.
“Wot The Dickens” in Woburn place is one of those places where I can’t quite put my finger on why I go there. Perhaps its familiarity is as comfortable as a soft blanket. As a Spurs man, I shouldn’t go there at all. Dino, a “Gooner” runs the place and can usually be spotted in the summer months in shorts texting somebody on his mobile phone. Partly I go there for the banter and partly for Dino’s half-decent sandwiches. It is the nearest of my favourite places, and whilst I can’t endorse the blackboard outside which says “the best coffee in London” they do make a decent cup of tea.
Whilst I was striding through Bloomsbury a few years ago, I found Onion’s Snack Bar on that exquisite Edwardian shopping mall Sicilian Avenue. Taylor is very much “a front of house man”. If you are walking past and he is outside, he will invariably try and tempt you in. It’s the only sandwich bar I know that serves fresh salmon and some delicious salads that go with it. Again, there is outside seating which I like as well as the invariable warm welcome from everybody at the place.
We all have our favourites, and I try and avoid the chains but I admit that having a Pret on the ground floor of my office does occasionally lend itself to a quick convenient purchase.
Some of my old favourites have stood the test of time which says something about them and the established, mixed with the new, reflects what has been going on in Bloomsbury for the past two decades.
Looking at this imposing Grade II listed church in the east London suburb of Wanstead it would be hard to imagine its very unusual history.
Now well-connected by the Central Line and popular with young families, Wanstead in the 1860s was an Essex village with an expanding population and a growing community of religious non-conformists without a purpose-built place of worship. They had been offered land by a Mr GH Wilkinson, but rejected as too costly the plans drawn up for building on it.
The non-conformists knew a bargain when they saw one, and the bargain they saw was nine miles away on the Euston Road where the junction with Midland Road is now. Here was a ready built church, only a few years old but already doomed by the onward march of the railway.
St Luke’s on the New Road (now Euston Road) was part of a Victorian church-building boom: 2,438 churches were built or re-built in England between 1851 and 1875 and St Luke’s was one of several planned to serve the needs of the ever-expanding population in the large urban parish of St Pancras.
Money had been short and work was slow. It took five years to complete the project and even then funds were insufficient for the tall spire on top of the tower.
The smart new building of Kentish ragstone with Bath stone dressings, designed by architect John Johnson, finally opened in 1861. However, the church was no competition for the might of the railway companies. A mere two years after the church was completed, the Midland Railway Company secured an Act of Parliament that would allow it to extend its line down to London, compulsorily purchase the land in its way (including that occupied by the church) and replace it with the cathedral-like splendour of St Pancras Station.
Pragmatically, the church quickly capitulated, accepted £12,500 for their early surrender of the land and were allowed to keep the fabric of the building.
At this point those astute non-conformists in Wanstead made an offer of £526 to buy the fabric of St Luke’s. This was accepted: Mr Reed a Walthamstow builder dismantled and transported the materials to Wanstead at a cost of £2,000. Even the crypt under the church was brought from the original site! John Johnson, the original architect, was commissioned to adapt his design to fit the rather different shaped and sized plot of land available.
As for St Luke’s, they had enough money from the deal to commission Basil Champneys to build a replacement safely out of the way of the railways in Oseney Crescent, Kentish Town.