Picture: Concrete Repairs

Pattern left by concrete repairs to the ceiling of the Stanley Cohen House undercover area close to Fann Street and Bowater House.

Across the great divide

Cross Golden Lane from one side to the other and you step over the line. The west side, the estate side, is in the City of London, less a London borough than a super-rich enclave of business and finance within the capital, a sort of mini-state, like the Vatican is to Rome, but without the Pope. The east side of Golden Lane  is in Islington, a proper London borough that shares many inner-city characteristics with its neighbours Hackney and Camden.

So there is a physical and a political split down the middle of Golden Lane. Not that anybody pays much attention, apart from the road cleaners (they wash the City side). City of London and Islington residents around here have lived in each other’s pockets for years. Golden Laners use Fortune Street Park (Islington) and Islington children use the Golden Lane Estate (City) as a cycle park. I sometimes think Golden Lane gets the best of the shared deal, but it hasn't always been the case.

Recently I was loaned a copy of an unpublished memoir by Pat Moriarty, a former resident of the nearby Peabody estate off Whitecross Street (Islington). In it she describes life in our neighbourhood in the 1950s and 1960s. The area was razed beyond recognition by German bombing during the second world war, but what Pat describes is an area pulling itself together again. The picture she paints is best described as grim with a grin, a proper black-and-white story of enduring hardship, where the Peabody's women took turns daily to boil up a copper cauldron in which they did the family laundry, while the men scratched around for a bit of portering work and hard drinking at the local Whitbread brewery. But at the heart of these memories is a warm smile and a gentle hello from a rich cast of local characters. This is post-war Britain at its best.

One of the great moments of relief for young mothers from the Peabody back in the 1950s and early 1960s was to wheel their young children over to the newly constructed Golden Lane Estate, where a sunken lawn provided a ready-made open-air playpen. While the children ran free, the women bonded to form what might be described as an early feminist club, a kind local social sisterhood born from the rubble of international conflict.

Sometimes it looks like history is repeating itself. Nearly all of the activities and events that take place today on the Golden Lane Estate are the work of women. Our estate manager is a woman, our community centre manager is a woman, our community engagement officer is a woman. The only councillor who lives on the estate is a woman. I cite these examples only because nobody ever does.

Two women I was pleased to introduce to our newly redesigned Golden Lane Estate community centre not long ago were the actors Rachael Spence and Lisa Hammond. Both are accomplished board-treaders and regulars on film and TV. Lisa is probably best know for her work as a cunningly perceptive detective in TV’s 'Vera' (starring Brenda Blethyn) and as Donna Yates, a market stallholder in 'EastEnders'.

But Rachael and Lisa have together been carving out their own theatrical niche for more than 10 years. It started, so the story goes, one day while they were trying to write parts for themselves (as young actors inevitably do). They were lost for words, didn't know what to say or how to say it. So they took to the streets they knew best, their own neighbourhood, and asked people what to write about and in what words.

Out of this gonzo exercise came ‘No Idea’, a stage show that defined their cluelessness. They found a spiritual home in this method of “verbatim theatre” and, between regular acting jobs, kept the idea of going. Sometime last year I reported on ‘Old Street New Street’, a show they put on at Shoreditch Town Hall, in which a group of local teenagers performed words lifted from interviews Rachael and Lisa had done with old people from the area. In the process of mouthing the words, the young actors became so absorbed in the voices of their surrogate oldies that they slipped into character and began to mimic them, often in hilarious caricature.

Now Rachael and Lisa are at it again, in a 10th Anniversary reworking of the 'No Idea’ idea, in a show imaginatively titled 'Still No Idea’ at the Royal Court theatre in Chelsea. They cut a curious comedy double act. Rachael is tall and leggy, Lisa is short and compact, whizzing around in her wheelchair with characteristic abandon. But they make the most of the contrast and play it off against one another. This softens the edges of what can sometimes be squirmingly hard material that skates the thin ice of bad taste and taboo.

Lisa Hammond and Rachael Spence in 'Still No Idea'

They were visiting our community centre because next year they fancy reworking the 'Old Street New Street’ idea by putting the words of teenagers into the mouths of old people. That’s where I came in. They were trying to use me to entice unsuspecting old folk into talking like da kids. I think they probably overestimate my pulling power with the pensioners, but they also wanted to have a look at the community centre's refurbishment as a potential space for rehearsals or workshops.

It didn't take long for reminiscence to kick in. Rachael currently lives off Whitecross Street and Lisa grew up in the neighbourhood. Both recall the old Golden Lane community centre and the pleasures of performing on its stage. The newly remodelled community centre offers fabulous views of the estate's fish pond, where Lisa would play as a child, and inevitably fall in.

Their attachment to the area seems genuine, and in their self-styled theatre work they are looking to explore the changes wrought on this part of London and its residents from its earlier identity as part of working-class Finsbury to the aspirational, gentrified habitat of middle-class modernists of Golden Lane and the brutalist poseurs of the Barbican. 

Interestingly, the very southern tip of Islington, south of Old Street towards St Giles and the Barbican, still retains much of its working-class kudos. The social housing is still there, the street market thrives. The street signs still declair them as part of Finsbury. And you can't move in Kennedy's fish and chip shop for gobby taxi drivers.

It is a Whitecross Street Pat Moriarty and her first generation of exotic locals would recognise. Much has changed, but some things also stay the same.

'Still No Idea' is at the Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square, Chelsea, London SW1W 8AS, until November 17.

Golden Lane Gallery: Great Arthur House roof garden

Power and the people. Signpost shows Cripplegate Ward officials at the top and a Golden Lane Gallery poster comprising residents' photographs below.

Can you spot the dangling man?

As seen behind the Shakespeare pub

Golden Lane: November 2018

One of our Common Councillors, Hatfield House resident Sue Pearson, blew her top not long ago at a City Corporation planning meeting, accusing the assembled decision-makers of “trashing our wonderful estate”. Two weeks later, it might have looked like she had egg on her face when the same planning committee granted conservation area status to both the Barbican and Golden Lane estates. But as residents will tell you quickly, words mean little if not followed by deeds.

Councillor Pearson is not alone in her dim view of council attitudes towards our estate. Many residents complain not just of the material neglect shown to what is studied worldwide as important modernist architecture, but of the institutional failure to genuinely attach any cultural value to these boxy coloured buildings we call home.

It was councillor Pearson who one warm day in 2016 invited me to join a party of volunteers 16 storeys up on the top of Great Arthur House, where there is, unbeknown to many residents, a spectacular roof garden (with pond). The garden has been closed for many years, yet it is one of the most beautiful and distinguished parts of our estate, and remains criminally ignored and underused.

We had a job to do on that day because parts the garden's paving had become overgrown with weeds, so we set about our back-breaking work with little to sustain us other than the fabulous views of London in every direction. We finished with aching arms but the smug feeling of a job well done.

So I have some sympathy with councillor Pearson’s sentiments about our landlords. Residents would just like to get a sense that the City Corporation views its asset, our estate, with some pride.

It could be all be so different. In Barcelona, one of master architect Gaudí’s most celebrated buildings, Casa Milà (aka, La Pedrera), has a roof garden that has been properly secured and is scrupulously maintained, hosting regular summer evenings of light music.

Back on Golden Lane, a more enlightened approach can be seen unfolding behind the community centre. On her arrival as estate manager back in April, Michelle Warman took an instant shine to our fish pond, which sits in a peaceful sunken garden between Bowater House and Bayer House. The pond had fallen into a sorry state, but now it is a picture of nascent vitality. Fresh reed beds have been planted and a new aerating pump has replaced the old ugly one. The fish can once again breathe easily, free from choking slime. Their only problem is a hungry heron that has been spotted lurking on the roof of Bayer House, eyeing a feast below.

A picture of nascent vitality

It is some of the lesser used areas of the estate such as Great Arthur roof garden, the fish pond, the lawns and the open spaces that make Golden Lane so admired. But they’re also often the parts that come under the threat of development. That’s when councillor Pearson is likely to launch into another “trashing” fit.

Another example is the recent City Corporation decision to close the estate's management office and use the space to create new flats. Where the estate office will be re-located is a mystery. The City Corporation says it can move into the community centre, but nearly four months after the community centre officially opened after refurbishment, it is still not fit for wheelchair users. It's hard to argue against the creation of much-needed new homes, but in this case I’ll give it a go...

When the estate was first built, its administrative hub was deliberately put in a central, open and accessible place, on the ground floor of Great Arthur House. The present office fronts onto a paved plaza connecting it to the community centre. This plaza is where residents gather, bump into one another, swapping stories and information about activities and events. This space has been converted into a busy car park, and nattering residents are forced to step aside whenever a vehicle approaches.

Robbing the estate of its communal spaces is the kind of casual and careless “trashing” that councillor Pearson is trying to resist. Not long ago, she had a bad accident and simultaneously broke both of her arms. Yet still she soldiers on, often in the face of often ugly opposition. So when I say “more power to her elbow”, I mean it in more ways than one.

Update: Last month I wrote about the dangers of u-turning traffic to residents crossing Fann Street. In two half-hour vigils, I counted 26 and 29 (almost one a minute) prohibited u-turns. Under the Freedom of Information Act, I asked how many penalties had been issued in the past year, the amount of the fine, and where the money is spent. The reply has just arrived, stating that 266 penalty notices went out in the past 12 months (fewer than one a day), that the fine for each is £130, discounted to £65 if paid within 14 days, and that the money is spent on off-street parking and other transport projects.

Billy Mann has lived on the Golden Lane Estate for 24 years. He is a City of London Community Builder and blogs about neighbourhood happenings at basterfieldbilly.blogspot.com.

An edited version of this text appeared in the City Matters newspaper, issue number 085.

Golden Lane: October 2018

A prize for the Most Dangerous Place on Golden Lane does not exist. If it did, it would go to the southwest corner of the estate at the junction between Fann Street and Goswell Road. This is the closest we have to an urban death trap.

For reasons I can only guess at, wind speeds at this corner nudge 50km/h, and images of hapless pedestrians being blown into the path of raging traffic are never far from the imagination. Safety is further compromised by motorists heading north on Goswell Road lunging into prohibited u-turns, swinging with menace over Fann Street’s busiest crossing point. Fingering taxi drivers is cruel sport, but they are unquestionably the chief culprits.

A group of miffed residents has taken to the estate’s website (about this. Stories of residents risking their lives trying to cross Fann Street are possibly an exaggeration. Only just (in two separate 30-minute slots, I counted 26 and 29 u-turns, including three by City of London Corporation vehicles and one by a non-emergency police car).

And these unhappy residents are joined by their Barbican neighbours, who are livid that drivers seeking to avoid u-turn detection by the roadside cameras on Goswell Road swoop into the underground car-park slip road alongside Blake Tower to perform a 3-point turn. This manoeuvre is not prohibited, but nevertheless dangerous, as many terrified Barbican residents will testify.

I’ve been told that the u-turn danger spot is the result of traffic diverted by Crossrail building work at Farringdon. I’m told also that the City Corporation has not received a single complaint from Golden Lane residents and that we “are good at complaining to each other, but not to City officers”. This came from one of our Common Councillors.

The City Corporation doesn't make it easy to complain. Once you’ve navigated to the relevant page on its website, you are asked first whether your complaint is a actually a complaint. Anything the City Corporation considers “frivolous or vexatious” is rejected. Then, assuming you tick all the boxes, the instructions outline a three-stage process for complaining, the first of which amounts to: “don’t call us, call whoever it is you want to complain about.”

I decided to run a test. Early last month I sent written questions to the City Corporation asking how many fines have been issued for the Fann Street/Goswell Road junction in the past 12 months, and where the revenue collected is spent. I didn't get an answer, so contacted complaints@cityoflondon.gov.uk. Two days later I got a message advising me to submit my questions under the Freedom of Information Act, which I have now done. Watch this space.

The trouble with complaining is that you run the risk of sounding paranoid, or slightly unhinged, which is probably why many residents don’t bother. Some, thankfully, do. One of them is a close neighbour in Basterfield House. His name is Nigel.

One of Nigel’s biggest problems is that he is too clever for his own good. He is a retired architect and building surveyor, so when he fires off an angry email to an unsuspecting City Corporation officer about the finer points of the Listed Building Management Guidelines, he knows what he's talking about.

The effect can be intimidating and whenever I start reading one of Nigel's sizzling complaints (he always copies me in) I picture him sat red-faced in front of a computer screen dripping with a noxious slurry of spit, venom and bile.

His letters all start with an attempt at politeness in the “Dear Sir/Madam” mould. Unfortunately, Nigel's courteous opening line somehow can’t disguise the contempt and hostility that is to follow, which quickly mutates into barbed sarcasm along the lines of “It pains me to bring to your attention the matter I first brought to your attention three months ago.”

It’s hard to say whether Nigel's dogged attacks have any effect. It might just be coincidence, but after several months of Nigel's rolling vitriol on the poor quality of the concrete repairs currently in progress on the estate, residents were told that the City Corporation were conducting a detailed investigation. That sounds like a home win for Nigel to me.

For the benefit of his health, I urge Nigel to chill. He assures me that he does, at long, lazy lunches in upmarket restaurants with his son. My concern is half-hearted. I want him to keep ranting. My parting words with him are always the same: “See you later, Nigel. Stay angry. Carry on complaining.”

Billy Mann has lived on the Golden Lane Estate for 24 years. He is a City of London Community Builder and blogs about neighbourhood happenings at basterfieldbilly.blogspot.com.

An edited version of this column appeared in the City Matters newspaper, number 083.

EC1: An international neighbourhood

I like to think of the Golden Lane Estate as warm and welcoming, a place where people from across the globe can feel comfortable and safe. That might be an illusion/fantasy, even though the number of nationalities among our residents is huge. I tell outsiders proudly that our estate is a microcosm of London itself. A good number of the original residents from when the estate was a new build back in the late 1950s and early 1960s are still here. We have young families from homelands across Europe. A quick-think list of countries resident on Golden Lane would include: Turkey, Portugal, America, Nigeria, Greece, Holland, Germany, India, Pakistan, the Philippines… 

One of my favourite residents is Marta, a lively Colombian woman who lives in Hatfield House with her son and an unruly collection of balcony plants. Marta is an anchor for many members of the South American community in this part of the City and neighbouring South Islington. She beetles around, translating and offering help so fast it’s a miracle to catch her standing still. Even then the urge to dance a tango or salsa is never far from her 70-year-old feet.

South Americans are longstanding settlers in this part of London, as are Italians. Other nationalities come and go. Not long ago, we had a German deli not far away in Kings Square that sold an amazing number of exotic sausages, I'm told it moved south of the river to Borough Market. Food seems to be a common thread. The emergence of Whitecross Street market food stalls and the busy restaurants in and around Smithfield give the area a feeling of inclusivity and diversity, and the residents and staff of the Golden Lane Estate play no small part in that.

The newest nation to gain visibility in our international community is Japan. It isn’t a country that has held much prominence around here, which is surprising given the number of Japanese banks, insurance companies and financial businesses that thrive in the City. Deeper in the Square Mile and around Shoreditch there is no shortage of four-star restaurants and quick-bite canteens and takeaway outfits such as Itsu and Wagamama. But hereabouts we have Pham Sushi on Whitecross Street, and that’s about it.

So it’s a pleasure to welcome Sway Gallery to 70-72 Old Street in a space formerly occupied by the posh flower shop McQueens. The adverts for Sway make confident claims: “Our aim is to introduce Japanese hidden gems that can add a small extra touch to your everyday life”. Kick-knacks and homewares. It then goes on to boast about its championing of Japanese art and craftsmanship “we feel truly proud of”.

Of its products, my favourite is the kintsugi kit for repairing broken plates (pictured below) and teapots according to the disciplines laid down by a 15th-Century Japanese emperor. It’s a sort of gold-plated decorative welding job, but surprisingly looks quite attractive.

I also like Sway’s exhibition space, which features a range Japanese art but works best when dedicated to a specific style or technique. I am a big fan of colouring in, so to give my efforts a more artistic flavour I swooped on Sway’s cute set of Japanese brush pens in autumn and winter colours. The colours are subtle and the brush tips are resilient enough for both large areas and fine detail. Sway has a metropolitan wealthy city vibe. Under the slogan "bringing Japanese excellence to Europe", it has branches in both London and Paris. An upcoming London exhibition, 'Shapes of Water' combine artworks, artists talks and Japanese woodblock printing workshops (pictured below).

It says a lot about the City of London's cultural landscape that in one small place on the outer edges of the Square Mile live people from practically every country on the planet, and likewise where enterprises of every international flavour can thrive. Workers arrive and leave at the end of every day; residents are the heartbeat of any community, but we are always at our best when we come together.

Ouch, that really hurt!

The Roof of the Sir Ralph Perring Centre on the Golden Lane Estate is a potential death trap for delinquent male teenagers, who prowl its dizzy heights in testosteronic competition and juvenile joshing with one another. I spotted one unlucky specimen today attempting a tricky climbdown, only to twist over on his ankle during the final drop. He staggered painfully to his feet and was ushered away supported by two friends, who both looked like they were enjoying his pain. I smiled a smile bordering on laughter, and felt slightly ashamed.

Golden Lane: September 2018

Summer slowed to a crawl this year on Golden Lane. The excitement of the World Cup and Wimbledon faded quickly and, once the hot weather arrived, a snail’s pace took over. The concrete repairs across the estate left behind a film of fine dust, so suffocation looked like a distinct possibility. But still nobody seemed that bothered. Even the ever-present bitching about the City Corporation and its serial crimes against happiness fell into a lull.

Then the weather changed, the exam results rolled in and the children began to steel themselves for a new school year. It was time to wake up and get moving. Now the new football season is back in full swing, 2018 has found its legs again. In Summer, our tennis courts are plagued by would-be Wimbledonians. But already the netball teams have moved into that space with their fierce tactical shouting and piercing whistles. I can feel hackles raising in Cullum Welch and Crescent House already, as those are the blocks within earshot. Angry postings to message boards are in the pipeline.

Sport is important for some residents, not so much for others. There’s a local tribal loyalty to Arsenal, which is a drawback (I support Liverpool), but even so it is fascinating to see attitudes to sport in competition: to spectate or to participate? For fitness or for fun, health or happiness, whose side are you on? In the corner of our estate at the junction of Baltic Street and Goswell Road is the People’s Choice cafe. Nowadays it is a sanctuary for stressed office workers and anyone just passing, but some years ago, I’m told, it was a resting place for off-duty training staff from Arsenal FC, who would be joined occasionally by squad players for impromptu team talks and mugs of stewed tea. I like these kinds of stories.

Yes, times have changed. Sport is now a serious business; spreadsheets, analytics, psychotherapy and a new pair of Adidas Predators are today's essentials. We have a number of betting shops locally, but I am yet to convince anyone that a flutter on the horses is as good as a frantic half-hour session on a rowing machine.

I’m not a slob, but I fell out with our estate's gym, Golden Lane Sport and Fitness (GLSF), for a number of reasons, the most serious being a failure to promptly repair busted machines. They also got rid of the punchbag, which really got my goat.

But all that has changed recently and new machines have just been installed as part of what is punted as an £80,000 refit. Residents harbour the suspicion that any investment in GLSF, which is run by the Fusion chain, is for City workers rather than residents – and that rankles.

GLSF does at least support health initiatives such as Exercise on Referral in partnership with GP surgeries. It also connects parents and children to Fit for Sport, which runs activities during school holidays, though these are charged at a market rate and are beyond the means of many. A discount rate is offered to over-50s in GLSF’s Young at Heart membership. And City of London Time Credits can be swapped for gym and swimming sessions.

I advise residents to use GLSF whenever they can. There is a huge variety and diversity of sports available, not only a gym staffed by skilled and friendly trainers, a swimming pool, a badminton court, two tennis courts and a multitude of classes in the ‘glass box’ studio. As I’ve stated already, the tennis courts double as netball pitches, the badminton court is also used in down-times for table tennis, the swimming pool has a hoist and occasionally runs assisted swimming sessions for the disabled, There's even the chance to learn the basics of scuba diving. The studio covers everything from the gentle (yoga, pilates, aerobics) to the more energetic reaches of individual sport (kickboxing, bodycombat, bootcamp fitness). If the cost is likely to be prohibitive, I point residents to City LivingWise for advice on free or low-cost exercising for good health. For the big team sports (football, cricket, rugby), there are few opportunities here in the City.

Aside from all this, the urge to be active will always find its own form of expression. Next to the Basterfield Rotunda tree garden here on the estate is a designated soft-surface ball-games space where football-fanatic boys (and girls, more commonly these days) practise keepy-uppies and precision spot kicks long after their parents told them to stop. In Cuthbert-Harrowing House we have a (reluctant) young basketball ace. Embarrassingly, his mother carries around on her iPhone a video of him effortlessly planting balls through the hoop from 20 metres. The scene plays on, over and over, until you start to suspect it’s all a stunt, some sort of trick photography. You are wrong. It’s for real. Her son is just monotonously good at basketball. He plays for pleasure, and that's what makes him a winner.

To have your say on the Mayor's city-wide strategy for sport, visit the Assembly's Talk London website. Billy Mann has lived on the Golden Lane Estate for 24 years. He is a City of London Community Builder and blogs about neighbourhood happenings at basterfieldbilly.blogspot.com.

An edited version of this column appeared in the City Matters newspaper, issue number 081.

Incident: Whitecross Street

A news report might read something like this:

Immigration officers swooped on a Mediterranean restaurant in Whitecross Street EC1 on the evening of 1 September in what looked to customers like a coordinated 'sting' operation.

We were sitting at an outside table enjoying what we grandly call an apéritif (a quick drink before we head home for an M&S curry) at Iskelé when a posse of around six chunky officers in black uniforms stomped noisily through the front door in single file while others stationed themselves in pairs at strategic points outside of the restaurant.

From my seat I could see one of the officers inside checking a bundle of papers, which I guessed to be the employment documentation for the people working there. The checking and talking continued for some time. None of the customers seemed bothered by what we felt was an air of menace and aggression. At one point, officers hurried out of the front of the restaurant and scuttled to the rear. They had, I assume, twigged that anyone trying to abscond from the premises would head that way. In fact, anyone trying to abscond would have given them the slip long ago such was the dim-wittedness of those in charge.

The Iskelé is a Mediterranean mezze/grill outfit serving locals and visitors to the nearby Barbican Centre. It gets 4.5 stars on Tripadvisor and is well used by the area's residents, who enjoy its friendly family style and polite service. Its kebabs and tagines are glorious, but top prize goes to its "chilli sauce", which is actually a chilli salsa of chopped chillies, onion, tomato and no doubt some other secret ingredient that makes it an essential item on any food order. We ask for it regardless of what we are eating.

We once enjoyed a long conversation with The Isekelé's owner — or at least he said he was the owner. We talked about the fantastic coloured lamps they have hanging from the ceiling. He said he got them through family and friends in Egypt. He promised to get us one, but we never saw him again.

He also talked about the area at the junction of Whitecross Street and Banner Street ,where he has business interests in a dry cleaners, and Italian restaurant, Cozzo, and a cafe, the Market Restaurant, opposite The Iskelé. Next door to the Market Restaurant cafe was an ailing tailors, which specialised in alterations and custom-made clothes. The business closed recently and The Iskelé group of businesses now use the shop as a storage space.

What prompted the immigration raid, I can only guess, though I suspect that this type of operation is likely to be common in areas of London such as Edgware Road and Brick Lane. Some see them as a direct result of Home Office policy in the past under Theresa May (now Prime Minister), which embedded a "hostile approach" to outsiders. I guess also that the trend is likely to continue up to and after Brexit. This evening, even as customers, we somehow felt bullied.

Golden Lane: August 2018

The party for the opening of our newly titivated community centre went off in great style, the best moment for me being a sublime performance from the young ukulele-singer Elpida Karali, who delivered her songs straight from the heart.

There was a minor panic when the queue for the paella lunch stretched too far to silence chatter on the health hazards of heating up rice in a microwave, but overall the day was a success.

One of the hot topics for discussion was the estate’s lack of any memorial space for residents sadly departed. Estate veteran Joan Flannery of Great Arthur House has lobbied on this matter for some time, and with the recent funeral of one of Golden Lane’s best-loved residents, Doris McGovern of Stanley Cohen House, the subject has become urgent.

Some of the estate's very first residents from back in the late 1950s and early 1960s are still very much alive and active in the neighbourhood. But some are sadly no longer with us and it is only right and proper that their lives and times are remembered.

A fitting memorial for our departed residents should be respectful but not too funereally bleak. ‘Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red’, the WWI commemorative installation that graced the Tower of London back in 2014 used hundreds of thousands of ceramic poppies to create a glorious waterfall and huge lake of red and green. Its beauty struck a chord. It was dignified and elegant. It triggered all the right feelings.

The two key memorial spaces we have locally are Bunhill Fields (where you can hang your head in front of ancient tombs dedicated to famous names such as John Bunyan and William Blake) and a wall of ceramic tiles at Postman's Park near the Museum of London roundabout, which commemorates those who sacrificed their own lives in acts of bravery to save others.

Of the two styles of memorial, Postman’s Park is the kind of touchstone that seems more fitting for our estate. In nearby St Luke's community centre on Central Street, they recently introduced a copper-wire ‘Memory Tree’ for members who have passed, and for one recently departed member, Jeanie, an engraved brass plate was attached to the streetside bench on which she sat daily devouring packet after packet of cigarettes.

St Bride's church in Fleet Street is famous for its memorials to journalists and has commemorative nameplates on its pews for reporters, photographers and others who made a difference in the “rough trade” of the newspaper industry.

The church is worth a visit regardless of this, but recently I was able to attend a memorial service for a former colleague, Peter Preston, the great editor of the Guardian. Back in the mists of time, he gave me a job and was a guiding spirit for many years afterwards. What might have been a sombre occasion was enlivened by a speech from Paul Dacre of the Daily Mail, who, as Voldemort to Peter’s Dumbledore, gave a generous tribute.

And there was fun, too. During the ceremony Peter’s two sons, Ben and Rupert, performed a magic trick with a carrot doubling up as a human finger being “chopped off”. Then the choir sang the Johnny Cash song 'Ring of Fire’. Bet that was a first.

So a memorial space on the estate needs to strike the right note. I was heartened to be shown a memorial of a different kind recently. Bayer House resident and architecture guru Fred Scott has come up with a blueprint for memorial bridge based on the fuselage and wingspan of a World War II plane.

Fred imagines his creation, 'Air Raid Memorial Bridge', across the Barbican lake. It's design gives artistic form to the history of the Barbican and Golden Lane as modern solutions to the devastation the area suffered during the Blitz of 1940-41 and is a nod also to the many commemorative flypasts at which Golden Lane and Barbican residents get a grandstand view, the most recent being the celebration for 100 years of the RAF.

The discovery not long ago of an unexploded bomb during the demolition of Bernard Morgan House was also a reminder of where the roots of our homes lie - in the death and destruction of a war that ripped Europe apart.

The postwar renewal in Britain, to put things back together again, is where the stories of the Golden Lane Estate and the Barbican begin. Golden Lane was an attempt to draw displaced talent back into the heart of London. It originally offered homes to young doctors and nurses at Barts Hospital.

We should never downplay that heritage and we should give proper remembrance to the citizens who played such a large part in forging it. It is a legacy that is too often forgotten by City decision-makers, and residents feel insulted by that.

An edited version of this column appeared in the City Matters newspaper, issue number 079.

Golden Lane: July 2018

I stand accused of timidity. At a social event on the estate last month, one resident said what she thought of this column: “You sit on the fence, you’re too diplomatic”. I offered a puny response, saying my intention is to write about the richness of life here on Golden Lane and what a great place it is to live, etc, blah blah. None of it sounded very convincing.

What she wanted to say, I suspect, is that I don’t stick the boot in on the City Corporation: its poor record on repairs, its culture of non-communication, its institutional blindness to residents’ needs over business interests, that sort of thing. It might be true, but there’s another reason I don’t take potshots at the council. The Golden Lane Estate is in the City of London residential ward of Cripplegate and it has nine, yes NINE, elected members on common council. Many of them rarely set foot on the estate. Only one is seen regularly and works tirelessly for our residents. Two of them I have only ever seen once, at an election hustings, asking for votes. Add to those nine our member on the London Assembly, Unmesh Desai, and our MP in Westminster, Mark Field, and here is a football team of people tasked to deal with voters’ issues. These are the people who should be kicking the council. 

A case in point is the concrete repairs rolling out across the estate. Expert residents (we have a lot) have let fly a barrage of angry emails detailing the works’ shortcomings with regard to listed building guidelines, heritage repair methods and paint colour-matching. The argument is unlikely to end soon and, meanwhile, scaffolding has gone up at Crescent House for decoration and window replacement work. It’s long overdue and residents have often moaned that their heating bills are sky high, all because routine maintenance and improvements dropped down the City Corporation list of priorities. 

I’m glad to see Crescent House being spruced up. I have an irrational fondness for it, even at its scruffiest. Its glorious iconic sweep along Goswell Road is the public face of our estate. I imagine it as a hotbed of radical non-conformism. It’s residents are not afraid to speak their minds and Crescent House is the only block in which I have seen people dancing naked in their window, in full view of the tennis players outside. 

So if do I sit on the fence it is because it’s a good place to watch what’s going on. The event described  above was a sun-kissed two days of activities for Open Garden Squares Weekend. The finale was a performance on Hatfield House lawn by the London Metropolitan Brass Band (with Golden Laner Tom Martin on tuba) and I sat on the fence (concrete) watching residents and visitors revelling in the sheer pleasure of Summer in the City. I also learned that a Basterfield House resident once refused the offer of a dance from Bruce Springsteen.

Open Gardens marked the start of party season. Wimbledon is underway, the World Cup is reaching a climax and today is 4 July, US Independence Day. If you dash, you might just catch hordes of crazy Americans overdosing on mustard at a hotdog-eating competition at the Blues Kitchen in Curtain Road. 

The school holidays begin soon, the local children can smell freedom, and on 15 July the Whitecross Street Party (WSXP) guarantees endless fun. Resident involvement in this year’s event has been a top priority and activities will centre on a number of “Rooms”, each coordinated by local groups – art, music, children, performance, pottery and virtual reality are among the themes.

The day before, 14 July, is more important though, because after an absurdly long delay, the newly refurbished Golden Lane Community Centre opens, with a whizz-bang party promised. The overlords at the City Corporation are very excited, but I am not so confident. At a recent meeting to discuss ideas for activities on the day, I gave a pompous lecture on 14 July being Bastille Day, a celebration signalling, in 1789, the start of the French Revolution. London will be throbbing with Gallic euphoria, I said. Paul in Liverpool Street are said to be dishing out free glasses of fizz and macaroons. To stand any chance of measuring up, I argued hysterically, the Golden Lane party, should include two things: a Wellie Wang on Basterfield lawn and a second outdoor game, in which children decapitate life-size effigies of their parents.

The assembled group looked at me in disbelief then broke into nervous laughter. You see, reader, that's the problem with these straight-laced council people. They can’t even spot a winning idea when it jumps up and bites them. 

Billy Mann has lived in Basterfield House on the Golden Lane Estate for 24 years. He is a City of London Community Builder and blogs about neighbourhood happenings at basterfieldbilly.blogspot.com. Write to him at goldenlanegazette@gmail.com.

An edited version of this column appeared in Edition 077 of City Matters newspaper.

Portman Pharmacy: New depths of bad manners

Being on regular medication can be quite daunting, and not just for the patient. Ahead of a recent holiday to Spain, I visited the Portman Pharmacy in Cherry Tree Walk to request a regular repeat prescription. The idea is that the pharmacy contacts your GP surgery and, hey presto, two days later, your life-saving medication is ready for collection. 

Twice in a row now, this seemingly simple and streamlined process has crashed. In the most recent case, having made my request to the pharmacy on a Friday and told the medication would be back for collection the following Wednesday, it wasn't there. What's more, the chief pharmacist mined new depths of bad manners and arrogance to tell me, first, that the GP surgery was to blame, and then that it was MY fault because my “expectations are too high". 

Despite having mobility problems caused by a stroke, I then made the journey to my GP surgery, the Neaman Clinic, was treated with great courtesy, collected the prescription and got my medication from another pharmacy. Endov Portman Pharmacy, hello Boots New Change.

St Luke's: Dementia workshop

Peggy Ennis has two interesting ways to describe dementia to those who know little about it. In the first she likens the inner wiring of the right side of the human brain to a set of fairy lights that are not performing at their peak. Some of the bulbs are dim, some are flickering. Others have packed up altogether. It all means we are no longer quite as bright or as flashy as we used to be.

In the second description Peggy uses the metaphor of the bookcase. Imagine, she says, a bookcase made of plywood. Each of its shelves are full of books; each of the shelves represents 10 years of your life; all of the books on each shelf are your memories of that decade. On the bottom shelf are your earliest memories, on the top are your most recent. Push the shelf slightly and it will sway; push it harder and the books on the top shelf will begin to fall off. More pushing and the books on the other shelves will do likewise, but the books on the bottom shelf (your long-term memories) will only fall off after an almighty shove. As you try desperately to put the falling books back on their shelves, many of them will get mixed up. In other words, you become confused. This is what dementia is like.

Now imagine a bookcase made from solid oak. The books on the top shelves might fall, but the stability of the unit will hold many of them in place, allowing the displaced books to be re-stacked on the shelves with some sense of order. This, Peggy says, illustrates the importance of “brain fitness”. Keep your brain exercised and nourished and the effects of dementia can be eased. She has a slogan for this exercise: “a healthy heart means a healthy head”. In other words, regular exercise keeps your mind in tip-top condition.

In the dementia awareness training Peggy delivered to a small group at St Luke’s Community Centre, she then spoke about the left side of the brain and the importance of the emotions. Quite often, she said, we will forget what people told us, what their names were, where we met them and what time they arrived. But we will remember how they made us feel, so using our emotional recollections rather than our factual ones is a good way to compensate once dementia and/or memory difficulties set in. Happy, sad, angry, disgusted, frightened or shocked: these are the experiences we can use to put those books back on the right shelf.

Peggy told us how people with dementia can appear a bit confused, bonkers even. To someone with dementia a polished vinyl floor might look like water; a black rubber slip-mat outside a supermarket door might look like a hole in the ground. This took me straight to a film idea, ‘Dementia Tour Of London’, a kind of funny/serious travelogue in which offspring and parent with early onset wander the capital’s streets seeing everything from a demented point of view.

Golden Lane: June 2018

Sport was meant to be the subject of this month's column. Arsenal are widely supported here on Golden Lane and their ponderous appointment of a new manager has been a hot topic, and not just for those old enough to remember who Dick Emery was. The booking congestion at the Golden Lane tennis courts is another issue. And there is one resident (a Leyton Orient fan) whose dream is to see “walking football” introduced to the estate. All of that will have to wait, because the environment has barged in demanding attention.

First is the CoLPAI development of the former Richard Cloudesley site, which stands to rob us of several proud birch trees. An online petition to “Save Our Trees” is up for signing on change.org and staff from both the City Corporation and Islington Council have bleeding eyeballs working through the small print of the planning verdict in case someone overlooked something. It wouldn't be the first time. Add to this the latest news about the City's ultra-poor air quality and cutting down healthy trees and replacing them with flaky promises of new ones “sometime soonish” seems indefensible.

A much nicer experience was this year's Golden Baggers day trip, to the Turn End house and garden in Buckinghamshire, and in planning for this year’s Open Garden Squares Weekend (9-10 June), which will no doubt once again see hundreds of green-fingered enthusiasts trooping through our award-winning allotments. It was nice also to attend a reception for one Golden Bagger, artist Liz Davis (aka, “Buffy”), who for the past nine years has been sneaking around the neighbourhood collecting weirdly-named (sorry, rare) plant species (Hairy Cockspur?), drying them under scientific scrutiny and mounting them on the finest art paper. Her exhibition, 'Wild City’, is at the Town House Gallery in Fournier Street E1 until 17 June.

It was also a bonus to be invited by our new estate manager, Michelle, to join an al-fresco discussion about the Golden Lane pond. The pond sits in an idyllic and relaxing spot at the back the community centre between Bowater House and Bayer House and is flanked by fabulous shrub roses. But it is suffering. Slime is festering below the surface of the water, the reeds are gasping for breath and the innocent turtles thrash around looking totally clueless. The fountain and pump are unsightly and a wholescale renovation is overdue. Buffy is shouting “homes for frogs” at passing strangers.

Michelle is keen to rescue the pond’s beauty from the jaws of neglect, but getting residents to agree on anything around here is hard work, and tainted by a dash of status envy, since the Barbican’s handsome water features get more loving attention from the City Corporation than do Golden Lane’s. A general meeting is planned for June 21 so all pond views can be captured. Expect some feisty exchanges.

And we mustn't forget that the environment includes buildings. The scaffolding on Great Arthur House is coming down, though the dust and psychological damage to residents during the tiresome two-year window-replacement project will take much longer to clear up.

The dust is unlikely to settle on Bernard Morgan House anytime soon. One the accidental pleasures of the demolition of the former police section house is that the Eglwys Jewin Welsh church in Fann Street, with its distinctive green roof, can now be seen out in the open, in all its heavenly glory. Not for long. The BMH site is being prepared for a mammoth block of luxury flats nobody on the average UK wage could ever afford. The developers, Taylor Wimpey, are clearly nervous about the building’s designated name, The Denizen. They have been surveying residents for an alternative, something a bit less flashy and superior, I guess.

Their list of possible new names did not include Big Ugly Monster (BUM) so I spoiled my ballot paper in protest. Then something very funny happened. A relic WW2 bomb was unearthed by a JCB. The area was closed off and everyone in Bowater House and Cuthbert-Harrowing House put their fingers in their ears. They needn’t have bothered. It's was a false alarm, and the digging soon resumed.

The “Bernard Morgan Bomb” incident got some of our senior residents talking about the old Ealing comedy film ‘Passport to Pimlico’ (1949), in which the accidental explosion of an undetonated German WW2 bomb uncovers a tomb full of treasure and an ancient royal charter declaring the surrounding area an independent state. Postwar rationing and austerity end immediately and the pubs stay open for 24 hours a day. Sounds good to me.

Billy Mann has lived in Basterfield House on the Golden Lane Estate for 24 years. He is a City of London Community Builder and blogs about neighbourhood happenings at basterfieldbilly.blogspot.com. Write to him at goldenlanegazette@gmail.com.

An edited version of this column appeared in the City Matters newspaper, issue 075

Golden Lane: May 2018

Exciting times lie ahead here on Golden Lane. We have a new estate manager, Michelle Warman, formerly in charge of the Middlesex Street Estate. Our newly refurbished community centre is about to finally open its door, and residents are asking what kind of tempting events are likely to take place there. Live music is on the wishlist, but that comes tangled up in a lot of red tape about insurance, performance rights, public conduct and nuisance, so it’s always easier said than done. Still, the demand is there and there isn’t much of a gig scene around here, not even a half-decent local pub band to turn up for. The best venue we have nearby is at the Slaughtered Lamb in Great Sutton Street, a magnet for indie-folk, roots and Americana fans. And right on cue, a very cool guitar shop has opened around the corner on Old Street. PMT (Professional Music Technology), occupies a space previously occupied by Cesar’s Janitorial Supplies. We are not short of musical talent here on the estate, so with the smell of cleaning fluid and floor polish gone, the start of our very own Tin Pan Alley is imminent. 

Theatre is another contender for our community centre. The first wave of Golden Lane residents back in the 1960s enjoyed a good show. Grown men dressed in women’s clothing could be seen regularly on the community centre’s stage. Last year we were visited by the Off The Wall Players doing Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner. The play climaxed with a lovers’ tiff, a lot of spilt wine and a body on the floor. Our neighbourhood is famous for its theatrical history. Fortune Theatre, in Fortune Street, was one of London’s earliest. More recently, Shoreditch Town Hall has dusted itself down and now hosts a wide range of performances. And Theatre Delicatessen in Broadgate – a hip young space devoted to eating, drinking, incubation workshops for budding talent, rehearsals and full-on shows – is blazing a trail for innovation.

All the signs are right for Golden Lane to grab the limelight. There is even a secret plan afoot to get some of our senior residents involved in making plays about how the neighbourhood has changed in their lifetimes. So don’t be surprised if one day your TV listings include ‘The Only Way Is Golden Lane’ or ‘Made in Cripplegate’.

The film crews are already primed for action, because every so often they turn up on the estate to shoot scenes that require the hard edges of realism softened by the warm heartbeat of the big city. Just recently we saw an advert for Puma sportswear being made. We have in the past been visited by top stars.  Brad Pitt is said to have done something unspeakably wicked in a Crescent House flat above the Shakespeare pub, and I swear I once spotted Idris Elba in an episode of the TV series Luther prowling menacingly around a flat in Great Arthur House. 

Most residents are happy to rub along with this type of glamour, but sometimes the shooting gets out of hand. This is what happened with Puma. They stand accused of bossiness and a lack of respect for residents. The City Corporation Film Team is not short of guidelines, policies and contracts for those asking to use the estate for location shooting, but sometimes fails to supervise properly. This is when film crews and residents clash and a drama becomes a crisis.

Far less exciting are the looming challenges of Brexit. The future impact on jobs, families, health and wellbeing will inevitably fall to the children and young people of today. They will need help. We’ve heard City Corporation policy chief Catherine McGuinness extolling the virtues of apprenticeships – despite some companies reportedly using the scheme to dodge paying a living wage. And City University’s Micro-Placement programme aims to toughen up those about to enter the jobs market. But Brexit does not appear in a draft of the City Corporation’s Children and Young People’s Plan (CYPP).

This is a rolling three-year project  (2018-21), and its latest mission statement names five priorities: safety, potential, involvement, health and community. There then follows a dull narrative on what those words mean and concludes by saying there will be another plan along shortly on how this plan will be put into action. It wasn’t exactly inspiring, unlike the sound of a robust panel discussion on 15 May at Conway Hall, Red Lion Square, about the soaring numbers of children and young people suffering from anxiety, depression, eating disorders, self-harming and attempted suicide. As if Brexit wasn't enough to deal with.

Billy Mann has lived in Basterfield House on the Golden Lane Estate for more than 20 years. He is a City of London Community Builder and writes a blog about neighbourhood happenings at basterfieldbilly.blogspot.com. Write to him at goldenlanegazette@gmail.com.

A version of this column appeared in the City Matters newspaper, issue 073

Golden Lane: April 2018

Knowing when to say no is never easy. Recently I was asked to join a welcoming party and lunch for some “special guests” at St Luke’s Community Centre in Central Street, a regular hangout for many Golden Lane residents. I muttered something like “Sorry, too busy, places to go, people to see, blah blah blah” and asked if I might “tag along later”, but was told the visitors would be gone shortly after lunch. Those “special guests” were the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.

The disappointment had just worn off when it emerged that our newly refurbished community centre will not now reopen until next month, maybe even later. This is annoying because it means that an exciting project will have to wait for lift-off. The Golden Lane Estate Community Archive is an idea started by a small group of residents (myself included) around a year ago. Two photo collections borrowed from residents Patsy Cox (Basterfield House) and Heather Sutton (Bayer House) gave us the chance to create a slideshow and a trio of posters showing life on the estate from its very beginning. In the collections, architectural plans sat alongside family snapshots and other social-history memorabilia. We got to see such gems as “Joan Flannery's kitchen, circa 1987”, and a menu from the Golden Lane Luncheon Club (1959) at which a glass of Pouilly Fuisse (posh white wine) cost four shillings (20p). From this small start we are now trying to get the archive on to a more professional footing. With help from the City Corporation and the London Metropolitan Archives, we hope not only to preserve the shared memories of Golden Lane but to continue to collect material for future generations to enjoy. We’d like to put on occasional exhibitions and talks, but until the community centre opens, we’re on indefinite standby.

The redevelopment of the site of the former Richard Cloudesley School has now been rubber-stamped by both Islington and City of London councils. That means a skyscraper bigger than Great Arthur House will hang like the mothership from a distant universe on the site currently occupied by the City of London Community Education Centre (CoLCEC). A determined group from across the estate objected to the plans; more, mainly Islington residents, supported it. The objectors were never, as has been unfairly suggested, against the building of new social housing, or even the long-overdue development of a school site that has been looking more unattractive by the day. What bothered them most was that the proposals seemed to bypass all established planning codes. The London Plan, the Islington Plan, the Finsbury Plan: they all agree that the anticipated housing tower and primary academy fall short on details such as the height and density of the buildings, the provision of outdoor spaces and compatibility with the existing architecture of the estate. The area’s services are woefully inadequate (one GP surgery). Yet all of the guidelines were sidestepped without any serious consultation with Golden Lane residents. Other, more harmonious, plans went straight in the bin. Add to this the nearby Denizen luxury apartments planned for the site of the now demolished keyworker homes at Bernard Morgan House, and not surprisingly many estate residents are skeptical about how the decision between Islington and the City Corporation –  two politically very different neighbouring councils – has come to pass. The disgruntled protesters have now shifted their campaign to environmental concerns. The proposed development will rob the multi-award-winning Golden Baggers allotment project of valuable light and three mature Birch trees, home to countless numbers of singing birds, are due to be plucked from the earth and discarded any day now. Some residents claim to have seen bats in the trees, but this cannot be officially verified, so it could all be a cheeky ruse.

The good news this month is that he newly-remodelled children's playground next to Hatfield House is finished after a tedious delay. It hasn't officially opened yet and still remains padlocked. The much-publicised decorative mural is “coming soon”, but already the children have wasted no time sneaking in to make good use of the many attractions (pictured, Ella Ivy, age 7-and-three-quarters). Early reports reveal that one of the playground’s slides is too steep (says Frank, age 7, a view supported by Sam, 5, who adds that it is “a bit fast”). And the whole of the play area “smells of pumpkins,” says Elsie, age 8. You read it here first.

Billy Mann has lived in Basterfield House on the Golden Lane Estate for more than 20 years. He is membership secretary of the Golden Baggers allotment group and a City of London Community Builder. He writes a blog about neighbourhood happenings at basterfieldbilly.blogspot.com

A version of this column appeared in the City Matters newspaper.

Golden Lane: March 2018

Time for change...

This time last year local elections had put in place a fresh group of councillors, and a spirit of change was running wild. This year, Spring again brings a feeling of renewal and optimism. The Golden Baggers are planning a memorial to one of our members, Fay Caton, who sadly passed last year. A commemorative bird bath has been ordered (Fay was always feeding our feathered friends). The estate’s refurbished community centre is due to open at the end of the month, and our revamped website (goldenlaneestate.org) is working its magic on residents by putting quality communication at its core.

The use of the community centre is a bone of contention. The City Corporation sees it as one of its assets and wants to take charge, first by installing the estate management team. Residents see it as community capital for the benefit of everyone and want to be actively involved in its running. It could all end in tears. There is the slim possibility that a peacekeeping force might be found. The City of London Community Education Centre (COLCEC) is to move from its current location on Golden Lane and into the new community centre in the middle of the estate. This is to make way for the controversial COLPAI school/housing development, but it is nevertheless a new start for an adult-education and after-school facility many residents admire and support. COLCEC is the middle ground on which the Corporation and residents can meet to thrash out a unity deal that everyone can live with.

Assembly point… 

Our London Assembly Member, Unmesh Desai, has been spotted hereabouts recently, which is good news. He is a busy man. The patch of London he represents stretches from here in the City right out east and north through Tower Hamlets and Newham as far as Barking & Dagenham. It’s a huge area. I follow his activities on social media and have become a fan the London Assembly’s ‘Talk London’ forum on the web. This is where you can rant about a whole range of subjects. One item recently canvased views on ‘London’s Night-Time Economy’ and the drive “towards a 24-hour London that works for residents, visitors, businesses and night-time workers”. This is especially relevant as the City’s Culture Mile project develops, bringing with it West-End levels of busyness.

It’s no choke...

Part of the City Corporation's clean air strategy asks residents and workers to look out for motorists who sit in their parked cars with the engines running. We are advised to tell them to turn off, but as a one neighbour discovered recently, that’s easier said than done. When she tried it, she escaped with vile insults and determined never to try something so stupid again.

GP or not GP, that is the question…

You don’t need TV pictures of hospital corridors full of trolleys bearing sick patients to know the health service is in crisis. At our local GP surgery, the Neaman Clinic in Half Moon Court, I recently found a woman queueing outside at 7.45am to make an appointment. She had come prepared, with a good book and a flask of coffee. Some residents don’t even make to the surgery door. In the estate’s gym, Fusion, one senior resident, a regular, tells me she is often short of breath. When I advise her to see her doctor, she replies: “You don’t want to bother them, they’re so busy these days”.

Bella vita…

It took me a long time to fall in love with Italy. Then a holiday in Sicily, followed by a city break in Venice, got me hooked. Now our neighbourhood has its own slice of Italy. Of course we have the Italia Conti school of performing arts, and in nearby Clerkenwell there’s St Peter’s church, which regularly hosts glamorous Italian weddings. Next door to St Peter’s is the food shop Terroni, which, with nearby Gazzano on Farringdon Road, fill the air with the unmistakable smell of Naples. More locally we have Baracca in Cherry Tree Walk, a family-run restaurant that never fails to deliver top food with a warm heart. And the latest additions to the Italian connection are the fast-food rice-ball specialist Arancini Brothers and, two doors down on Old Street, L’Artigiano, an upmarket fresh pasta deli-restaurant. There are many more  – Vecchio Parioli (restaurant), Carnevale (top-class vegetarian restaurant), Passione and Piccolo (cafés). Some of our residents feel so at home in these places they speak in Italian. Which reminds me, I borrowed a copy of Garibaldi & Gelato, a Heritage Lottery-funded recipe book, from Sofia at Central Street Cookery three years ago and forgot to return it. Oops.

Billy Mann has lived in Basterfield House on the Golden Lane Estate for more than 20 years. He is membership secretary of the Golden Baggers allotment group and a City of London Community Builder. He writes a blog about neighbourhood happenings at basterfieldbilly.blogspot.com

A version of this column appeared in the City Matters newspaper, issue 069.

Golden Lane Gazette: February 2018

Protection racket...

The ‘munching’ has finished and Bernard Morgan House has gone. It hasn’t been a painless journey for those closest to the clanking machinery, the noise, the dust and the endless queues of dumper-trucks. There have been some touching memorial tributes at the site of the former police section house - flowers taped to lamp posts - but the best of them appeared on social media from the Save Golden Lane protest group, who displayed the single image of one of the building's classy decorative tiles that were dispatched during demolition. 

At the start of the project there was a half-hearted pledge to save the tiles for recycling, but as time went on this looked less and less likely. They are now presumed to have been trashed along with all the other rubble.

Yes, the passing of Bernard Morgan House has left a nasty taste, but it might not be entirely in vain. The site hoardings that picture its proposed replacement, The Denizen, show luxury apartments designed to look like a bad-taste version of the baddy’s lair in a Bond movie. The images have garnered residents in opposition and a plan is afoot to discourage any similar developments by making the estate a conservation area. We are joined in this by residents from the Barbican, and the City Corporation has now provisionally awarded the two estates ‘Conservation Area’ status. Hopefully this will usher in a fresh approach to the preservation of the built environment and a sense of duty towards its maintenance and care. Hopefully...

There’s already a hitch. A small area between the neighbouring estates did not pass the Corporation’s conservation test and has been excluded from any special protection. This zone includes the Jewin Welsh Church in Fann Street and the handsome red-brick block on Golden Lane formerly occupied by the Cripplegate Institute but now home to global financial behemoth UBS. The zone also covers the Barbican Wildlife Garden, a magical place and good friend and partner to our own Golden Baggers food-growing project.

If you’re swotty enough to study the reasons for the exclusion of this contentious area (lots of coffee required), you can agree that, strictly speaking, it might not tick all the boxes. What is certain is that the City Corporation’s decision is a miserly one. The zone is part of the neighbourhood’s history. A Welsh church and a wildlife garden are the kind of things that make a community special. So, in a rare show of unity, Golden Lane and Barbican residents have formed a dream team to lobby for the inclusion of this disputed territory in the Conservation plan.

Golden Girl, Joan

Many of us were happy to join veteran resident Joan Flannery recently in the Ralph Perring Centre to celebrate her 90th birthday. Joan has lived on Golden Lane for 48 years, most recently in Great Arthur House, and is known for her quick wit and gentle sarcasm. She grew up in my hometown Liverpool and sometimes slips into a classic Scouse accent. With family and friends serving tea and cake, the room rang out with bawdy laughter and good cheer. Joan even took time to pass on a top tip for seniors: keep a list of your medication and healthcare details in the fridge door, because that’s where emergency-service workers look first.

A happy accident...

I don't often get emails that were meant for someone else, but it was nevertheless refreshing to get one from Mary Durcan, one of our nine elected members on Common Council. It told us what she has been up to recently on behalf of the City Corporation ward of Cripplegate. She began by stating, ominously, that water has been a theme of her activities, starting late last year with an 8.30am shift on the Lord Mayor's flotilla (in the rain). Other aquatic engagements included a thrilling visit to the Thames Fishery Research Experiment in Tilbury (more rain), where she saw some big fish. Emerging from the moody waters of the Thames estuary, Mary then went to a “stunning” Grade I listed cemetery at Manor Park, where City residents can get cut-price burials (note to self: get on the waiting list). It all made being a councillor sound quite exciting.

Old shop, new start...

Good charity shops are thin on the ground around here, so it’s nice to see our local, Widows & Widowers on Whitecross Street, newly made over and transformed from a no-go Chaos Corner full of tat into a streamlined, go-with-the-flow shopping experience. Pink linen shirt, £5, thank you very much.

An edited version of this column appeared in the City Matters newspaper, issue 067 In February 2018.

Golden Lane Gazette: January 2018

The new baby boomers…

Right up there on my Christmas reading list alongside the new Donna Leon Brunetti saga was a City Corporation report on social wellbeing within the Square Mile.

Three things jumped out. The first is that being lonely is not the same as being alone. The second is that loneliness can be as bad for your health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. The third? That one of the groups worst hit by loneliness and isolation is young parents.

I expected to see older people, people from different ethnic backgrounds and the disabled (physically and mentally) on a list of those who feel excluded. I might even have added teenagers, LGBT or homeless people to the tally. But young parents was a surprise.

The City Corporation has an interest in tackling loneliness, even if it’s only as part of a wider remit on facing up to modern social ills. And on Golden Lane it has been working behind the scenes to train volunteer residents in the art of Community Building.

'Builders’ are people who stop to chat and generally act like good neighbours. Sometimes they also act as 'Community Connectors’, offering handy local tips and plugging people into information and services.

And if the recommendations of my Christmas reading are carried out, they will soon be joined by ‘Maternity Champions’.

The City’s business relies heavily on the daily arrival from outside the Square Mile of many thousands of young professionals. Add to this its young resident population and the sum is a human dynamo that cannot be ignored.

Many of the workers might have been uprooted from secure and supportive family networks elsewhere. Many of the young residents will be so drained by the sheer hard work of bringing up baby that they simply drop out of community activities.

No wonder the Corporation puts the social wellbeing of these people at the centre of its action plan. They are the present and the future of its success.

Time, ladies and gentlemen, please…

Like our Common Councilmen, Community Builders and Maternity Champions don't get paid. What they get instead is City of London Time Credits.

This is a scheme in which you offer one hour of your time doing something for the community (pulling weeds from paving cracks, for example). For this you get a crisp piece of paper that looks like a foreign banknote. You can spend it not on cups of tea in the local café, or milk and bread at the supermarket, but on fun things like going to the cinema, riding the Thames Clipper or watching Millwall FC.

Earn and spend

One Time Credit equals one hour of fun. I recently spent two of mine on a visit to the superb Courtauld art gallery at Somerset House to see the exhibition ‘Soutine's Portraits’ (finishes 21 January), which revealed the artist's great skill in painting pinched faces with unnaturally long noses.

Pay, the way to go...

A proper wage for Common Councillors (City Matters, issue 062) is a cause worth supporting. Only when our elected members are given professional status can voters expect a professional service, fully transparent and compliant with progressive democratic principles.

Tree cheers (not)...

The estate became a laughing stock over the festive holiday as passers-by scoffed at its pathetic Christmas tree. Not only was this the scraggiest of specimens, what is presumed to be an overdose of austerity at the City Corporation saw it left stark naked, with no lights or decoration over the entire holiday. It wasn’t even planted properly in its traditional place at the centre of the stone rotunda at the end of Basterfield lawn, so the first gust of winter wind left it tilted drunkenly to one side as if trying to stagger home from a not-very-good party. Residents took to social media to note their displeasure, but would nevertheless like to apologise to anyone forced to feast their eyes on such an embarrassment.

The naked truth

Yr rnt iz du...

A new texting service that allows residents to check stuff like rents and repairs will be introduced at a workshop in the Ralph Perring Centre on 30 January (5-7pm). This sounds like a good idea, with plenty of scope for future development. Text messaging is already used successfully for GP and hospital appointments, and at a recent Healthwatch conference there was talk of using it to prompt outpatients to take their medication or to get up and stretch occasionally. The possibilities are endless, so it’s fingers crossed that a Christmas Tree Complaints number will be issued in time for Santa's next arrival.

An edited version of this column appeared in the newspaper City Matters, issue number 063.