Odds and sods

I took this picture of an exhibit in the Tate Modern, London. Britain`s national gallery of international modern art.
Having never been in there it was curiosity that drew me in.
Now this is just some metal air ducting sections bolted together and below are two items quickly found on the net from suppliers catalogs.
Help me out here please. If anyone can bolt these parts together why is this an exhibit? No skill and very little design as the parts match as in industrial set ups so can only go one way to transfer air flow around a building.

Now this is art. Made of glass and contains who knows how many hours/days of work that went into it`s making. This shouts at me skill, thought and creativity.
The so called piece of art at the top of page to me says the builders have gone to lunch and left the next section leaning against the wall ready to install.


Psst! anyone want to buy some fenders cheap.

They are everywhere along the Thames

Pedibus is one way to see London. Takes 12 people at £22 ($34) who as you can see all have a set of pedals. It has two small solar panels that provide power for lights and sound system.

Quite a few of these pop up urinals appearing on London streets. This one at Paddington was doing what it shouldn`t. They should be below ground and only raise for overnight use.

Three  stalls can be used at the same time and it`s plumbed into the sewage system.

Now isn`t this a case of sexual discrimination as I find no plans for a ladies version although perhaps there might be scope for extra design.

Perhaps one that allows the lady to push a button and disappear below ground.

Only problem I see is that like the `mile high` club this will become the six foot down club.

My teenage years come flooding back

A big thank you for all your good wishes. I feel really good apart from a very slight discomfort having to have a catheter tube in for a while. Due an appointment in the next few days to remove it.

Tower Bridge has a visitor center that takes in the Victorian engine rooms, video showing the construction and at the time we visited several exhibitions. With the exception of the engine rooms everything took place in the two walkways 138 feet above the water. As you can see below a great view of skyscraper London is available.
I have included the bridge picture below because it shows a London bus  just at the point the bridge roadway splits as the bridge opens for shipping to pass. Click HERE.
Great bridges of the world was one exhibit, a second one was of art but the one that really interested me was  The Sixties. 
This just brought back so many memories of my early teenage years in Paddington.

 So before you scroll down through the highlights of my teenage years just click the video and listen to some sixties music while you move down the page.

Above  Patrick Macnee and Diana Rigg from the TV series The Avengers.
 Right  Dusty Springfield sadly not with us anymore but a great influence on the sixties music scene.

Left  The Rolling Stones.  



Right Model Jean Shrimpton
                                         

 Childhood cars. Jaquar, Rover, Hillman Imp, Ford Anglia, Triumph Herald, Mini etc. etc.

Rod Stewart                                 Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament marches

Right 
Harold Wilson.
Prime Minister in 1964.





                    Above Mary Quant fashion designer is credited with the mini skirt and hot pants. Vidal Sassoon cut her hair that became very popular with the female population.                                      

The Mods on their Vespas and Lambrettas.  The motor bike riding Rockers. I could never have ridden on something powered by a lawn mower engine so no need to reveal my allegiance.

                                                Model Twiggy

Left Carnaby Street by the end of the sixties it became second to Buckingham Palace as most popular tourist attraction.
Right Not much to say, recognised worldwide.




Formula 1  Graham Hill and Jim Clark were big in F1 both winning the championship twice in the sixties. Sadly this was marred by Jim Clarks death at the wheel in 1968.

 
Left  Peter Cooke and little Dudley Moore.


Right  Peter Sellars famous as Inspector Clouseau in the Pink Panther films.

Architecture in the sixties was a concrete jungle. If you compare this with the picture I took from the Tower Bridge I hope you agree the buildings look far superior 50+ years on.
On the left is the Post Office tower. Not sure of the middle section but on the top right is Trellick Tower now Grade ll listed because of its architectural importance.
Thirty one floors and 217 flats/apartments mostly containing family`s with young children. Commissioned in the 60`s and completed in the early 70`s. This area was my playground and I can tell you this sort of building was not the answer to clearing the slums.

I walked around the area and took the picture on the left. It shows another of two hi rise flats built in 1961 this one is Adair tower and the Trellick tower can be seen in the background. Adair and it`s twin Hazelwood tower were on my newspaper round and as a 13 year old I took my bike in the lift. At each floor I had a delivery I would leave my bag of papers in the lift doorway so the lift would still be there when I returned.
These two blocks in my opinion are far superior in looks than Trellick.
The building of these hi rises was the first steps to clearing the 3 storey slums. A lot of the streets had a mews where the  rag and bone men kept there horses and carts. Not sure of the bone part of the name but they collected rags, metal and newspapers. Some would give a goldfish in a plastic bag as payment. I know if you hadn`t read that here you would have trouble believing it. I called them totters and being a regular delivering papers was recognised and could wander without harm in the area.
Last call on the paper round was a cafe and I always got a good old fry up for breakfast free.

I could go on and on but will just leave you with my mode of transport to school the good old Trolleybus.

I must admit that quite often on a dry day I would walk and spend the fare on sweets.
A link HERE will give some idea of the area I grew up in.

The Ins and Outs of Les' Hospitialization

"In Turkey, you are not allowed to be left alone in the hospital. The nurse teaches the family how to do things, and somebody is always there with the patient." ~Dr. Mehmet Oz, Turkish-American Physician

   Up at 5 am, we gathered our wits and Les' belongings and trudged out the door, up the towpath and caught the 6:32 a.m. bus to Watford General Hospital. At the very next bus stop, the bus engine died and would not start again. All the passengers sat quietly while the bus driver repeatedly assured us the engine would eventually turn over. "It does this every morning." Really?? Well if that were my regular morning bus to work and it made me late every morning, Arriva bus lines would lose my business and I would seek an alternative form of transport--even walking--which is what we opted to do. As soon as we moved to get out of the bus, others followed suit. We were eight minutes up the road and the number 320 bus rattled up behind us, and threw open its doors. It did eventually start again!
  We checked in to the sixth floor surgical unit, and waited until 10:30. In the meantime Les and I traipsed in and out of the seating area to be grilled er--I mean--to answer the same questions several times about allergies, illnesses, dentures, etc. etc. etc. The surgeon reviewed Les' file and explained that he would not know for certain if Les' prostate was actually the issue or if there was a stricture of his urethra causing the problem. There were several possibilities and once they got up there and sussed it out then they would take the corresponding action. Les could expect to remain in hospital for two or three days if all went well and be home by the weekend. All righty then!
   Eventually Les was called to change into a hospital gown, Ted Hose (super support hose to discourage deep vein thrombosis), and funny frilly paper panties which the attendant insisted Les wear to the operating room even though the operating staff would soon remove them to begin the operation on his urethra. Go figure!!
   As there is no waiting room for the relatives of patients--"just go home and we'll call you when your loved one has returned from recovery,"--which makes it sound like YOUR loved one is returning from a salvage operation--I went across the street to the Spice of Life Cafe and coughed up nearly ten quid for a terrible sandwich, pretentious, overpriced Costa coffee which was dispensed from a machine and completely undrinkable. I returned to the hospital a short time later, stopping at W.H. Smith's for a Red Bull energy drink to clear the fog from my brain. As I stepped off the hospital elevators three female housekeeping staff were waiting with large bins of soiled laundry. They smiled and got all 
excited when they saw my Red Bull. One woman cracked, " We should mug for that feel good drink, we should," smiling as she went by me. 
   "I went over to the Cafe for a Costa Coffee and it was terrible."
   "Oh it's shite, it is," and they all bobbed their heads up and down as the elevator doors closed. 
   I sat in the hallway chairs facing the elevators on the fifth floor which is where Les was supposed to return to sometime after 1 p.m. I passed the time reading my Kindle. Eventually my phone rang and a ward sister (floor nurse for Americans) told me Les had just come to his room.
   I am pleased to report my best beloved was awake, alert, and alive. He was feeling no pain and wearing a hospital nightie and a big smile! Les was also the ONLY patient in the ward!! Five empty beds stood waiting for others who were even then in recovery.
   With a urinary catheter in place, Les was resting comfortably, slugging down glasses of water and filling the plastic urine bag with slightly blood tinged liquid. After two hours the surgeon's assistant, Dr. P stopped by to say Les' prostate is in great shape--small and healthy! An endoscope was inserted and allowed the surgeon to view the interior of Les' urethra. His urethra had been narrowed with scar tissue from a urinary tract infection many years ago. That in turn slowed down his urine flow, resulting in small bladder stones. Dr. R dilated Les' urethra and flushed out the stones. 
   Dr. P told Les that he would be sent home by this weekend with the catheter in place and called to come back in next week for its removal, and then taught by a nurse how to catheterize himself. He will have to do this procedure daily for two weeks and then once a week until his urethra is fully healed. The catheter keeps the urethra from narrowing again. 
   The doctor looked carefully at Les' urine output, commented on how clear it was with hardly any blood and then looked at Les intently. 
   "You look great, there is barely any blood in your urine, your output is good and the procedure went well. How would you like to go home today?" Neither of us could contain our excitement. 
   "Okay then, I'll send you home," and Dr. P left the ward. Of course it is all well and good for him to say this and then leave. In reality it took another three hours for everything to be organized--antibiotics and pain meds ordered and collected, leg bags and night bags found, paper work filled out. 
   In the meantime the ward filled up with other men who were recovering from similar procedures, and I suddenly didn't know what to do with my eyes. Les was laying sprawled in bed with PJ bottoms on and no top. The bloke across from him--a very big man--had his right leg in full bandage and propped on pillows. He fell asleep and snored, his legs relaxing and his gown pulled tight across his thighs. The man in the bed closest to me was sitting up facing me, eating dinner, and his hospital gown had hiked up to the top of his thighs while he scooted into place behind the table. Suddenly I was surrounded by male "gentles" as I call them and it was too much on view for my comfort. 
   Suddenly in the doorway appeared the floor matron--none other than the matron with whom we had developed such a "close personal relationship with" on our first visit to the hospital. She asked how we were, we joked a bit, she brought us up to date on some changes being made at the hospital, and Les told her he was supposed to go home, but it was dragging on.
   "Could you use your influence to get me out of here?"
   The matron took off and in less than two minutes a nurse appeared with all the kit we needed and hooked up a leg bag for Les. Bed rails lowered, cannula removed, Les was dressed and ready to go in a shot! We met our daughter in law Bev downstairs and arrived home soon after. HOME at last!

at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/hospital.html#TyYDV4ohiaUtVT9X.99

The stable that became a hospital

From the basin moorings exiting where the little arm used to be brings you onto South Wharf road and facing the building pictured to the left. This is the building mentioned in the `Thirsty, try canal water` post about 10 days ago. Just a few steps indie the gate can be found the areas pictured below.


 It is now the Mint wing of St. Mary`s Hospital but when built in 1878 it was stables on three floors.
The stables, holding up to 600 horses, were for the Great Western Railway who`s trains arrived in next door Paddington station.
The site was it seems first occupied by a mint but I can find no reference to it.




Above and below the same view, just 88 years apart and some extra windows on the right.

© National Railway Museum  1926

Again then and now. These would have been strictly railway horses as an old map of the canal basin shows two stables along it`s wharves.



 

Left the horses worked in the goods yard moving wagons.

 

On the right the horses were used to pull delivery vans. 

 

Above an aerial view from; 

http://www.britainfromabove.org.uk/image/epw039589

As I have mentioned before the `Britain from above` site is very interesting. Just sign up to be able to zoom in otherwise you can view the images at distance, not much fun. No catch in signing up and it covers the whole country.

There are 8 images around the station/basin this one is the 1932 image. On one you can zoom in and see the horse ramps in the stables.

 

A is the site of the original 1838 Paddington station. In 1854 the present day station was built at B.  The Yellow shaded part is the stable block and just to the left of it is the canal basin. The exit referred to is on the right of the bend in the canal.

If you look carefully to the far end of the basin you can see two other arms exiting to the left.

 

Writing this I wish I had entered the building to see if as I suspect the building is not full of patients beds but  just admin and stores.

 

Something else that came up while surfing the web is being reminded that growing up in Paddington meant I also grew up in Middlesex. This county has now disappeared but if being a Londoner of a younger age than yours truly you might be surprised to realise you grew up in what was Middlesex. What is now Greater London was once Middlesex. It was bordered by Surrey, Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire and Essex.

Click HERE and scroll down to check if your part of London, or the suburbs, was part of this very old county.

More on Middx HERE.

 

Surgery tomorrow, Jaq will keep you posted on how it all goes.





London 2104: St. Katharine Dock and a Shout out to Molly in America

 "The Thames is liquid history." ~John Elliott Burns, English trade unionist, socialist politician and historian.

  We sauntered back across Tower Bridge at street level where I spotted this door, right. Why I wondered, does the Bridge Master require his own dining room built within the base of Tower Bridge and what does he dine on when he's in?
   We were going to go on home but Les spotted a large ocean going vessel of the dutch barge design with huge masts and furled sails moored up out in the Thames and I thought my barking feet could keep going long enough  for us to walk down and take some pictures. 
   Fortunate indeed was our decision to linger because the boat was waiting for the lock at St. Katharine Dock to allow the large sailing vessel--Ardwenna of London and several smaller cruisers--to come in. Les was totally in his element, thrilled at the site of the large masted ship gently inching her way in first and tying up carefully, the small plastic cruisers gingerly coming to a stop in single file beside the large wooden hull. 
   Both lock keepers were women which impressed me no end. I am of the age that remembers still when women weren't allowed to take on anything that was traditionally undertaken by men. Les asked the lock keepers scores of questions to which they answered with a smile while raising the outer lock wall to the Thames.
   The cost of mooring in this marina is not cheap. At £5.45 per meter per day it would cost us £95.00 a day to tie up here. NB Valerie is 17.5 meters long. One can also purchase a weekly, monthly or annual berth at £23.30, £70.00 and £560.00 per meter. We will let you do the math! 
   This is a non-residential marina which means one can come in and out of the marina with one's boat and one can visit it, but one cannot live aboard. There is also an additional charge for electricity. Water is available at every berth provided you bring your own hose. Mobile and fixed pump out for sewage is available upon request--and an additional charge. Surrounding the marina are VERY posh places to eat and shop, and facilities such as a washeteria (laundromat for Americans) and toilets. The boats and small ships moored in St. Katharine Dock Marina are worth many millions all together. This is yet one more way in which those with financial means and a yen for adventure can cross the Pond (the Atlantic) and visit Britain. As for me--there are no ships large enough for me to feel comfortable crossing an ocean. I will gladly stick to canals and rivers. 

It's hard to believe there might be any room in this lock for another boat...

...and yet the lock keeper managed to fit two cruisers in as well.

Les knows no strangers! He is chatting up the lock keeper about how the lock works as she waits for the dutch style barge to come inside. One can see Tower Bridge quite well. Across the river, the tall building in the background with the crane--just beyond the bridge--is Guy and St. Thomas Hospital. We are set to visit the south bank of the Thames and a fascinating glimpse into medicine's past on day three of our London visit.

The small plastic cruisers make haste to join the large barge in the lock.

   For those who know us well, you may remember the post I wrote on Tuesday, September 25th, 2012 title, "It's a Bird, It's a Plan--No It's a Hot Balloon and There's an American on Board!" Wherein Les was so gobsmacked and delirious at seeing hot air balloons floating low over NB Valerie that, when I wondered aloud if the second balloon would follow the path of the first, he honestly thought he was hearing the voice of an American on one of the Balloons!  I've extracted the urine many times over this bit of silliness as it made us hysterical with laughter.
   I have to say I was tempted, as I watched Les scamper with excitement up and down the lock side with camera in hand, to yell out in a muffled voice, "It's so different from mooring up in America," just to see if he was gullible enough to repeat the performance! Les was having so much fun--and it was a treat to see him happily engaged after all we've been through and still have ahead of us--so I chose to sit quietly and behave instead of attempting to take the piss out of him yet again.

The lock barrier on the Thames side begins to rise.

Finally the lock is full and even with the marina.

   St.Katharine Dock lock filled slowly and then the boaters on the small cruisers began poling flotsam and jetsam forward of their boats. A bright orange floating boom was thrown out to catch the garbage off the Thames. 

Boaters coming off the Thames wait while the lock keeper poles the rubbish to the front of the boats.

She pulls the orange boom across, catching the garbage which is pulled over to one side out of the way.

After the rubbish was caught up and pulled aside, the large red lift bridge across the marina entrance went up and the small cruisers exited first.

Ardwinna's tall sails and rigging inspire awe in a narrow boater!

 Finally the portly barge made its way slowly, pivoted out of the lock and gracefully pivoted once again to line up with a second blue lift bridge further on, by means of mooring ropes around giant bollards, hauled slowly by human hands. Then with a grace unbelievable for such a large vessel in a very crammed space, Ardwinna of London made slowly for the second lift bridge.
 Eventually she came to rest moored up near another of her kind at the far West Northwest side of the marina.

The blue bridge inside St. Katharine Docks Marina rising for the graceful masted ship.

Two similar boats wait for their sister ship. Xylonite left the marina once Ardwinna was moored up and the lock was allowed to fill for vessels going out on to the Thames.

This public art installation by Dale Devereaux Barker has greeted all who walk along St. Katharine Docks since 1998. DD Barker has an amazing portfolio of public exhibits and commissioned work.

Les in a hurry to enter St. Katharine Dock to see the sailing ships.

By the time the blue lift bridge was back down again we were on our way by bus back home to NB Valerie. With this third London post we ended our FIRST day in London! 
   I also want to take a moment to give a warm shout out to Molly in America--a transplanted Staffordshire "gel" who recently made our daughter Shiery's acquaintance and now follows our blog. Welcome along on our journey Molly!