The Groundwater Diaries
Page 39
Waterloo bridge 335, 420
Waterloo, Battle of 327
Watson, Dr 170–1
weasel piss 339
weather 8, 14, 21, 37, 81, 428
weeping willows 66, 141, 146, 290
Welch, Raquel 106
Wellard, Gordon, Septet 113
Weller, Sam 102, 361
wells 105–21, 226, 316, 360
Wells, HG 100
Welsh Elvis, the 158
Welsh Harp reservoir 275
Welsh women 310–11
Wembley 275, 278
West Ham United FC 45
West Hampstead 207, 384
West Indies 20, 67
West Smthfield 120
West Norwood Hills, the 400
Westbourne 11, 13, 204–221, 261, 414, 423
Westminster Abbey 155–6, 166–8, 215
Westminster Cathedral 162
Westway, the 210, 222
Westwood, Vivienne 218, 221
When Saturday Comes 95, 126, 191, 192
White Hart Lane 7, 149
‘White Man In
Hammersmith Palais’ 231
Whitehead, Jack 53
Whitesnake 403–4
Wick village, Hackney 73
Wicker Man, The 9
Wilberforce, William 217
Wilson, Bob 64
Wilson, Harold
(impressions of) 192
Wimbledon 285,
(Chase), 286,
(Common), 254, 297,
(FC), 45, (tennis championships), 301–2
Winnie the Pooh 276; 278
Winslett, Kate 171
Winterburn, Nigel 64
witches 116, 161
wobbly electric organ 230
Wolff, Naomi 273
Women In Love 262
women in skimpy
dresses 123
women:men ratio 132, 272
Wonderful London 10, 11, 34, 105, 205
Wood Green 23, 141, 147
Woodberry Down 27, 29.
Woodward, Edward 9
Woolwich Arsenal 48, 372
Worcester Park 291, 292
World Cup 126, 145
World of Leather 278
World Trade Center 415
World Turned Upside
Down, The 325
World War 165, 194, 329
World War II 71, 327, 329, 386, 387
Wormwood Scrubs 245, 247–8
Wren, Sir Christopher 119
X-Men, The 35
yellow broom 58
yellow hard hats 56, 57, 146, 164, 341
‘Yids!’ 150
yoga 10, 21
yokel 137, 277
Yorkshire heaven 230
Young’s Bitter 107
Yugoslavian immigrants 77, 394
yuppies 396–7
Zen 255
Zippo’s Circus 87, 99, 299
zoo 170
ZZ Top 168
Acknowledgements
It all seems so long ago now that I embarked on this series of journeys, the last one in September 2001. Several of the walks in this book were first done with friends or fellow map obsessives – thanks to Tracey Bush, Doug Cheeseman, Karen Johnson, Dave Ludkin, Andy Lyons, Ian Spry, Kelly Thomas and Dominick Weir. Also my parents, Rhona and Tony.
Thanks as well to Ian Plenderleith, my flatlander writer mate, for his unswerving inspiration and morale boosting; Tony Davis for his photographic genius; Lee Marple for local history tips; Neil Ruane for Bank of Friendship discussions; Jill Sterry for getting me inside the sewage works; Rob and his gang for my trip under the streets; Jonathan Wright for help with early research; Rebecca Skeels for her supply of creative ideas; Edna Crome for local history knowledge; and Andy Major for help with bar surveys in the West End. Thanks to Dominick for dragging me round Portobello Road searching for cheap records all those years ago and helping me find the old volumes which started this quest. And to Seth Weir for walks, pub-crawls, ideas and writing workshops.
I have met lots of librarians over the last three years. I’d like to say there are too many to mention but the truth is I can’t remember their names. All except for Isobel of Hornsey Library in Crouch End. Librarians are the guardians of our culture. And they’ve got cheap photocopiers. Cheers, library people.
On the publishing side: thanks to Rosemary Scoular for her positive input; Kate Morris for her keen eye; Steven Appleby for his amazing cover; Nicola Barr for sorting out the paperback; Terence Caven for designing my pile of doodles and sketches into a book; Philip Gwyn Jones for getting the whole project off the ground; and Georgina Laycock for her sympathetic understanding of the East Midlands magical-realist bollocks school of travel writing.
The most special thanks are due to Cindy for her love, encouragement and belief and to Cathleen for help with local research and for the loan of her Pingu videos. And hello to Seán, watching patiently (and dribbling slightly) as I write this. You’re probably wondering what sort of shite your dad is on about this time.
About the Author
Tim Bradford is a freelance writer and illustrator. He has written for the NME, When Saturday Comes and Empire. His first book, Is Shane MacGowan Still Alive? was published by Flamingo in 2000. His drawings have appeared in the Observer and the Express. He has a regular cartoon column in the Guardian. He is married with two children and lives over a hidden river in north London.
Further praise for The Groundwater Diaries:
‘Tim Bradford is a frontiersman of curious guile, with a mission to explore the lost rivers of London. His river tour is part labour of love, part elaborate excuse to unravel the mystic presences that should matter to Londoners. The Groundwater Diaries is a big slab of a book that defies conventional wisdom. It’s all text-play and cartoons, stray columns and observations. Discovering the secret history of what lies around the corner is the book’s raison d’être. But it’s about the journey rather than the arrival. Where else could one find ladyboys who look like a young Patrick Swayze, empty accordion shops, drink-addled young skinheads and how to make dowsing rods from twisted coathangers? The Diaries come into their own when Bradford weaves London’s musical heritage into his ever-growing litany of hare-brained connections. His inspired theory that the Westbourne River traces the history of punk drops another rag-bag of references into the drink. There’s water under the Moonlight Club, where Ian Curtis sang, under Kilburn and its High Road and the ghost of Ian Drury, past The Adverts at Paddington, The Clash at the Westway, Mark E. Smith and The Jam at the Bayswater hotels. Other alternative routes include a tour of top London buskers, and a dissection of N 10 through the lyrics of Ray Davies. In essence, its crackers. But brilliantly crackers. A mass of daft streams of consciousness – with pun firmly intended. Half-crazed flights of fancy that could only emanate from an abuse of cheap lager, and from the eternally, endearingly, insane streets of London.’
JUDE ROGERS, Word
‘An absorbing tale of an obsessive’s search for the underground rivers of London. It’s a hunt for natural features, long since subsumed into the urban landscape. Better still, it’s not some dry historical tome, but rather the exceedingly amusing story of a man on a mission. Bradford neatly balances his descriptions of the urban decay of the modern city with historical reference and a healthy dollop of tall stories. What you’re left with is an affectionate tale, told by a man who clearly loves the capital and all that life within it encompasses. From rhyming slang to Thomas á Becket’s views on the cinematic works of Steve Martin, through systems for a new world financial order based entirely on beer-mat economies, all of life is here. An utterly entertaining travelogue that gets you absolutely nowhere but leaves you loving it.’
Venue
‘Bradford takes you on a fragrantly comical journey interspersed with his unique philosophy on such life and death matters as jazz, football and jellied eels.’
What’s On in London
‘Irresistible. In this bizarre but quite brilliant altern
ative guide to the capital, Bradford – a self-confessed river obsessive – explores hidden tributaries of the Thames, taking in such essential sights as a Raynes Park model railway shop and a late night police bar in Smithfield.’
Bookseller
‘As packed with jokes, meditations, and digressions as it is with historical facts. Reads like a cross between Bill Bryson and Laurence Sterne.’
Wood & Vale
‘Anarchic, hilarious, inspired. Entertains, informs, and even makes you laugh out loud.’
Northern Echo
Other Works
Also by Tim Bradford
Is Shane MacGowan Still Alive?
Copyright
Flamingo
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www.thegroundwaterdiaries.com
www.freetherivers.org.uk
Published by Flamingo 2004
Previously published in Great Britain by Flamingo 2003
Copyright © Tim Bradford
Tim Bradford asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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