On Inns, Operating Theatres, Cemeteries and Gaols

I’ve just enjoyed a short holiday in London with a like-minded friend. I’m well aware that holiday to most people implies lounging on a sun-soaked beach, delicately sipping cocktails while reading the latest Twilight blockbuster, followed by indelicately necking lager in sweaty nightclubs. Ugh! For us, Victorian obstetric instruments and dead poets are far more alluring.

The catalyst for the trip was the chance to see ‘The London Perambulator’ which is such a remarkable film that it deserves – and will have - its own blog. But sharing a few days with someone whose reaction to ‘Can we go to the only surviving Georgian operating theatre, based in Keats’ old training hospital?’ was actually enthusiastic agreement, was not an opportunity to be wasted.

So off we went, south of the river, to this place: http://www.thegarret.org.uk/ to wince at delivery forceps and enema syringes, marvel at herbal remedies that may or may not have proved efficacious and to try to imagine what it would have been like to have your arm amputated with no anaesthetic, save possibly a shot of brandy.

Fortuitously, Keats himself had lodgings the other side of the street while training, so I was able to pay homage to one of my heroes, as well as visiting his statue, situated in its own stone shelter, in the grounds of Guys Hospital just down the road. My plan to have my photograph taken with him was thwarted, since he was surrounded by giggling schoolgirls eating their lunch. I’m sure, while the giggling might have been annoying, Keats would have loved being surrounded by pretty young ladies.

We repaired to London’s only surviving galleried inn, The George, so that my friend could indulge her love of the seventeenth century by imagining Charles II and friends doing exactly what we were doing nearly 400 years later – chatting and drinking. Although, admittedly they wouldn’t have been drinking diet Coke and we weren’t eyeing up the women….

A stroll down Borough High Street took in the sites of the Tabard Inn, from where Chaucer’s pilgrims set off to Canterbury – this road was the main route out of London to Kent – as well as the Marshalsea Prison. Thence to Southwark Cathedral and along the south bank taking in Winchester Palace and the Clink Prison Museum: http://www.clink.co.uk/ From gory medical procedures to gory torture and punishment.

The following day we headed north to Highgate Cemetery where we spent a very happy morning among the dead, admiring ornate mausoleums and grave furniture, and visiting the remains of the famous, from George Eliot and Karl Marx to Douglas Adams and Malcolm McLaren. A bus took us to Hampstead Heath from where we walked to Keats’ House: http://www.keatshouse.cityoflondon.gov.uk/. In the few years since I was last there it has been further restored, and the thrill of standing in Keats’ own living area never palls. And I finally got my photograph taken with Keats!

A walk back to the tube station took in the site of Keats’ earlier lodgings as well as one-time homes of Kingsley Amis, DH Lawrence, JB Priestley and Marie Stopes, and then it was back to central London for bookshops, restaurants and cinemas to provide further entertainment. As well as the obligatory visit to our old friends Keats, Byron, John Wilmot et al at the National Portrait Gallery.

Thanks Kate for your marvellous company, shared enthusiasm, stimulating conversation and sheer stamina – a wonderful few days. Here’s to the next time!

The London Perambulator

As referred to in the last blog, I recently attended a screening of this remarkable film, made by John Rogers, about Nick Papadimitriou, who describes himself as a deep topographer, and it proved an intriguing introduction to an interesting, erudite and unconventional man. To the outsider, Nick could appear as an aimless wanderer around the suburbs of London; however, this walking and the observations and knowledge drawn from it make him the repository of a unique understanding of the social landscape.

I have always been drawn to original and independent thinkers, people who see the world from a different angle, who don’t so much defy convention as disregard it; who go beyond rebellion into a place where the rules that constrict most of society actually have little meaning. Nick is one of these people.

My first experience of a unique mind was my English teacher Roger Deakin, who introduced me to Bob Dylan and Keats. Never mind literature – he taught me to think for myself, to question convention and received wisdom and to do what seems right to me. Far more valuable than passing my A Levels – though I did that too thanks to him.

Nick has been able to use his interests for ‘practical’ purposes – notably research for one of my all-time favourite novels, ‘The Book of Dave’ by Will Self – but more importantly, he is able to see the landscape of the liminal areas around London in a way that few people do, and therefore to open the eyes of those he encounters to geographical and social features and history which is there for those who have the time and interest to look.

The film itself is absorbing: empathetic to its subject; sensitively framed and dense with words and ideas – hardly surprising considering that as well as Nick, it features interviews with Iain Sinclair, Will Self and Russell Brand – all eloquent and verbose individuals, and indeed original thinkers themselves. Just as one interesting observation is made, another is just a minute away, which means I need to see this wonderful film again.

Like Nick himself, I learned, I discovered John Rogers’ work via Russell Brand; through John I discovered Iain Sinclair; in Sinclair’s works I found a reference to the writings of my old mentor Roger Deakin, links to my love of poetry and old books, and an interest in deep topography. And through ‘The London Perambulator’ I have discovered Nick Papadimitriou. The world is a richer place for having people like this in it, and I feel privileged to have gained a small insight into his mind.