Thursday, 6 January, 2022 – Twelfth Night
Writing things down is happening in my head again on an intangible surface, rarely making it into anyone else’s head. Sometimes there’s a narrative of what I’m seeing and how I feel about it, but it stays in there. It’s not that that isn’t valuable and even contributes to my sense of self and, therefore, my outward self. But inside it stays for the time being. If I post photos, most of those thoughts and feelings are just for the time I’m sharing them and just with myself. In December, two people close to me died. I suppose that such words come to me more often at times like this, when I ponder the fragility of life and all the questions that are unasked and unanswered.
So it was a bittersweet Christmas time and a bit hard to pull myself out of that heavy mood and get out there. By twelfth night I’d put away almost every Christmas item – a bit ahead of my usual schedule. The Museum of the Home had closed over Christmas for longer than expected and there would be no twelfth night burning of the holly and ivy, something I’d loved in the past. This year many public buildings and restaurants opted for a long break while Omicron kept people at home and staff numbers dwindled due to illness. It was a cold and grey day but it wasn’t raining and we decided to go out.
We took a bus to Fenchurch Street. The original plan was to go to Bow Lane and I confess to being motivated by an advertised cake at Konditor. From there we could walk over to 120 Fenchurch Street where they have a rooftop viewing garden. It didn’t go according to plan but it went well, anyway.
We got off the bus and decided that, since it was still light, we’d go to 120 first. I’d been there before without Krish but he’d never been so we wandered along the strangely quiet street. There was quite a queue to get into Skygarden, though, and I was glad that wasn’t our choice for the day.
The Garden at 120 isn’t very far from Skygarden. It’s also not as high, at 15 floors, but I’d liked it when I went. It’s the City of London’s largest roof top public space, is fully open air, quiet and the view is more intimate when you’re closer to everything. We were the only people heading for it. Even going through Security was quiet and fun. The person scanning our bags had a good chat with Krish comparing beard experiences. It felt friendly and personal.
I’ve not been in the warmer months but I’ve read it has wisteria trees, fruit trees and a 200ft-long water feature. None were apparent on this cold January day.
You can walk around the perimeter – the full 360 degrees of view. There are many seats to relax on and just enjoy the air and the surrounding buildings. There’s no space to stick a camera through for clear photos so all of them are taken through the thick safety glass. I’ve decided not to caption them. There are some iconic landmarks, but I’m not sure it matters. You can ask me in the comments if you need to know more. You may notice, however — St Paul’s, Hays Galleria, the Tower of London, and the Shard.
And up here you’re close to the cranes and construction. It fills the entire South side.
While we were there, two other people came up – only two. Note to ourselves to come back when it’s warm, to see the flowers and plants in bloom and the water feature flowing. I have a feeling it might still be quiet and peaceful.
We left the building and started to walk westward, through Star Alley, when we found this church – St Olave’s, which I’d heard of.
St Olave Hart Street is one of the few mediaeval churches to survive the Great Fire of London. Samuel Pepys and his wife are buried there.
Charles Dickens who lived close by, called St Olave’s ‘St Ghastly Grim’, referring to the gargoyles on the churchyard gate – if they’re still there, I didn’t notice them. St Olave’s has been a place of Christian worship and sanctuary for almost 1000 years, the first church dating from 1050, a simple timber structure. It was rebuilt in stone in the 13th century, and rebuilt again in 1450. The crypt dates from this period.
357 victims of the 1665 Plague were buried in the churchyard. Their names were marked with a ‘p’ in the church register. The church was heavily damaged during the Blitz of 1941, leaving just the arches and the tower and was restored in 1954. After looking around outside this surprisingly small building, we realised there was a lot to see if we stayed right where we were.
Along London Street we found Fenchurch Street Station, which had looked very small and interesting through the modern building maze below. I wanted to go inside as I’d never been. Immediately inside the station you’re faced with an up and a down escalator and one flight of stairs. So up we went.
At the top of the escalator I expected to see a station hall, but instead we saw gates right in front of us leading to only four platforms – quite the smallest train terminal I’d ever seen in London, every train heading through East London, and South Essex.
We headed back to Fenchurch Street and at the corner we came across a lovely old pub, the East India Arms. It’s been serving beer since 1829. The British East India Trading Company’s old premises are right next door. It traded until 1834 and in 1873 Lloyds took over the building.
Just beyond the pub was a gate and we could see a very modern building through it. The building had a look similar to the Lloyds so-called Inside Out building on Lime Street. Looking more closely, there was a good reason for that. It’s also designed by Richard Rogers. It was quite a lovely courtyard with a light-wrapped tree and some lovely benches where I could take a break.
Lloyds owned the land on which it had buildings and in the early 1990s, two unlisted ones were demolished to create a space to build something new. Work began in 1996 and was finished in 2000. Richard Rogers stamp is very clear.
On Fenchurch Street itself (71) is the original Lloyds Register building, called the Collcutt building. It is described as a classical stone palazzo in the 16th century Italian manner.
I hadn’t known a lot about Lloyds and its holdings and businesses before and I don’t know much know either. My wanderings are usually just that and I don’t do much research before I set out. I really can’t when I don’t have a specific target. When researching later, the details can feel overwhelming and make me want to go straight back to fill in the gaps. In this case I found out that the Richard Rogers Register building excavations uncovered Roman remains and reminders of other centuries. It’s a toss-up whether I’d like to reinvent myself as an archaeologist or a London guide!
Briefly, though, Lloyds Register was the world’s first marine classification society, created more than 260 years ago to improve the safety of ships. It began in 1760 in Edward Lloyd’s Coffee House in Lombard Street. While looking at the buildings and perhaps while you’ve been looking at them, there’s an assumption that this is part of Lloyds Bank. The fact that Richard Rogers designed both new buildings cements this assumption. In fact, Lloyd’s Register has no affiliation with Lloyd’s of London. And so I learned something new…again. And again, a half-promise to come back and see the Colcutt building and St Olave’s church gate some other time.
Talking of time, it was marching on and my knees told me to head home. We wanted to come home by Whitechapel and fix Krish’s samosa craving, so we continued along Fenchurch Street to find a bus. That’s when I discovered that Fenchurch Street becomes Aldgate and we were right at a familiar bus stop to take us the rest of the way. Before that though, and perhaps to compensate for missing Dickens’ ghastly gargoyle gate, I found the gate to St Botolph without Aldgate. I love a bit of gild. Of course, I’ve now discovered that the church has its own set of grisly and fascinating histories. Another time then… On the other hand, there are 48 churches in the square mile of the City of London and each one has a story. This is usually a multi-levelled story passing through centuries, often from Roman times, and it really would be a full-time job. For now, it’s samosas, kebabs, dhal with aubergine, naan, and Indian sweets to see us through more than a few post-Christmas meals.
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I really needed to eat but so many places were closed, till evening or forever. I saw a café that I’d read about and went in. It was so warm and lively in there but every seat was taken so I bought some orange juice and we carried on.
I think Google led me slightly astray!