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Published: March 12th 2017
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The Attendant
Flat Whites & Urinals The weather had improved from the previous evening. A steady rain had been falling, as we had made our way to our Finchley abode. A new trip to London. A new Travelodge. The Northern Line this time. A journey through my musical collection. Kentish Town. Track 4. Album: Love & Its Opposite. Tracey Thorn of Everything but the Girl. Mornington Crescent. Track 13. Album: The Life Pursuit. Belle & Sebastian. The weather was forecast to go downhill, but visibility was good from our lofty perch. North London was visible before us. The arch of the "new" Wembley could be seen out the corner of the window. It will still be "new" to some of us in 30 years' time. I amused myself watching a business early bird attempting to park a car. He was making good use of his parking sensors, but he clearly shouldn't have been allowed to take out the showroom. The day had started badly for him, but at least he was safe now until he had to leave the office. It got worse for us though ..... and went down the toilet. Literally!
A London Underground staff member was busy writing on the white
board outside the Underground station. I didn't particularly pay much attention. The travel news on the TV had indicated a good service on all lines. It appeared things had changed in the space of our 2 minute walk to Finchley Central. Signal failure at Kennington. A staff member highlighted on the tannoy, that all was not well. "You are advised to reconsider your travel plans". After 10 minutes parked in East Finchley station, we did. The rest of North London simultaneously made the same decision and all tried to board the same southbound bus. The resigned look of many commuters suggested this was not a freak incident in their world and a more aggressive edge to the journey came into play. We circumnavigated the problem by taking a bus towards Golders Green. Golders Green was similarly chaotic and affected by the troubles of the Northern Line, but we had already swapped to the Number 82. Standing room only. A lengthy dispute erupted at the next stop, as frustrated work bound commuters refused to vacate the already overcrowded bus. "I can't drive, if I can't see my mirrors!" repeated the bus driver. Salvation arrived for most in the form of a
Jubilee Line station at West Hampstead. We chilled a while and took advantage of the ongoing daily free coffee available at the Art Deco branch of Waitrose.
The journey had taken some time to accomplish, but we almost ended up in the right place by accident. Buses are much more interesting anyway. You can actually see London. We alighted at St John's Wood and walked round the corner to Lords. Home of Cricket. The Other Half knows the patch quite well. Her mum was brought up a fast bowler's run up from the ground. Her uncles used to just wander in as boys. The Other Half had purchased me a tour. We were a little early and wandered round the corner to pay homage to the old family flat. If only it had been retained! The tour started in the Museum, once security had been satisfied that no offensive items were making it inside via the assorted bags of the group. A Pakistani couple were disappointed that the special exhibition to cricket in their homeland had finished a mere 3 days before their visit. The curator took them behind the scenes to show them one or two
Lords
Pavilion prize items. A nice touch. The guide started his script in front of the most prized of all cricket possessions - the Ashes. The Ashes - played for between England and Australia - never in the main pass between the two teams. They stay firmly inside the protective case at the Home of Cricket and have only ventured out on 3 occasions. The last was in 2006 / 2007, so our glimpse of them in Melbourne .....just passing, honest .....was indeed a rarity. The group was a mixed nation affair and the subject of the first two nations to play each other at cricket came up. The obvious answers first. England v Australia. England v New Zealand. England v Scotland. The guide maintained his stare on one of the party, but he didn't take the bait. Canada v USA. The Man from Toronto in the group looked bemused. In the corner of a foreign field, a sporting rivalry commenced on 24-26 September 1844. An international sporting event which pre-dates the Americas Cup. The venue: St George's Club, Bloomingdale Park, New York. Attendance: estimates between 10,000 & 20,000. The Man from Montreal can keep this information as a quiz question for
future reference. Canada won! The highest score in any of the 4 innings, suggested the pitch might not have been top notch.
We moved on, passing the statue of W G Grace outside and back into the members' area of the ground. The use of cameras in the Pavilion and the Long Room is not permitted. I thought about a sneaky couple of snaps, but we were being shadowed by a security guard. They take tradition seriously at the Home of Cricket. Membership fees are quite competitive, but I suggest getting your name down early. The current waiting list is 26 years. The average age of a member was quoted as 68. The stairs in the building are flanked by various paintings and portraits of cricketing greats. We climbed to the changing rooms. A pair of surprisingly spartan rooms with leather benches and clothes hooks for player kit. High on the walls are the achievement boards. The modern game might be all about big bucks in the IPL and the world of crash, bang excitement of T20, but the boards in the home and away dressing rooms are all about real cricket glory. Test Match 100s. 10
Lords
Pavillion wicket bowling performances. Cricket legends are missing from here, no matter what their other achievements. There is no Shane Warne. No Sachin Tendulkar. Ian Botham and Chris Board make both batting and bowling boards. There are other unrecognizable names, who just had a good day in amongst a career of off days! The balconies are small. I gazed out around the ground and across to the space age media centre, currently undergoing a renovation. The normal tour allows access. We were treated instead to a sight of the real tennis court behind the Pavilion. A not so agile member was exercising his rights to book the court and having a lesson with the resident pro. The benches below the changing rooms for members look decidedly uncomfortable. However, I doubt I will ever get to test out this observation.
We retreated next door into the Lords Tavern pub for tea and scones. The Other Half had purchased this as part of a tour package. A modest establishment on face value, but populated by groups having not so modest business lunches. The scones were very nice, but don't expect Claridges' afternoon tea. We caught a bus to Marylebone High
Street. The Conran Shop is full of style. A retail space of gadgets and high end furniture. We added to our Danish lighting collection further down the road in Skandium. Fitzrovia is the area bordered by Marylebone and Tottenham Court Road and behind Oxford Street. It is home to the unique coffee stop, The Attendant. A late Victorian gentlemans underground toilet that had outlived a useful place in the city by the 1960s is now transformed into a purveyor of expresso and lite bite lunches. Sit at the urinals. Read the papers. Catch up on your emails. Enjoy a flat white and a sandwich. An architectural masterpiece with a new use. The coffee is good too. If you are looking for a different place than your normal, bland location to enjoy your caffeine fix, this is the place. Visit. You will not be pissed off with your choice!
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Rainyb
Lorraine Brecht
Looks like an interesting/funky area ;o)