Regaining my feet in 2022 – Rooftops and Lloyds on Fenchurch Street

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.

Off to the seaside – Southend

Wednesday and Thursday, 16 and 17 June, 2021

This is the saga of going to Southend for our first overnight visit since September 2019. When I started writing it out, I thought it would be a short one. I was wrong.

I suppose we all romanticise about how a holiday will be. This one had a pretty rocky start – let the fortune telling begin.

We hadn’t seen my aunt, who will be 94 this summer, since late 2019. We both knew that, once we were vaccinated and things weren’t so weird, it would be our first visit anywhere. Krish suggested that we spend overnight in a hotel and see her for a short time on both days. We were a bit back and forth, to make sure everything fit – we were going for two days, we were going for one day, he wasn’t going at all, he might come for a bit – and then there we were, on our way.

But first there was a railcard glitch. Railcards are a great thing. There are various kinds, but each will give you 30% off train travel. Ours was a Two Together card – as long as we travelled together we got the discount. I let this one lapse over the pandemic, so I couldn’t simply renew it and reuse the old photos. Many snaps later against a pale background and I created my digital card with our photos. I needed to get an app for my phone and then I could open it if I were asked. Only the app wouldn’t download. I tried many times over the next few hours. Krish tried it too and had no luck with his phone. The morning we were to travel, I tried again and gave up after a couple of hours. With any luck, no one would ask for our card.

Krish left for his appointment at Guys and half an hour later I left to wait for him at Liverpool Street Station.

A busier Liverpool Street Station these days
Liverpool Street Station is busier these days. I sat near platform 12
Liverpool Street Station roof
I love the roof at Liverpool Street Station

Then another setback. Krish’s appointments have been brief and he’d booked earlier than usual so that we could get away around 11am. It was unlikely we could get the 11:06 train but the 11:33 seemed promising. At 10:57 he texted  ‘very busy here today, the wait is at least an hour.’ I let my aunt know that not only would we be late but that we might not be able to get the fish and chips she always asked for. They close from 2-4:30pm. Nothing to do but relax in the station with a drink.

And I tried the app again. It downloaded quickly the first time. So much for my internet provider at home. Time to switch!

Then at 11:18 another text ‘finished, just getting dressed’. we’d missed the 11:33 so took the 11:54. It was the hottest day of the year, at  30C but the train was a new, air conditioned one. We sat in first class, no one bothered us.

Hackney Gelato
On his way to meet me, Krish ran into some sample people – there was iced coffee or gelato. This is what he chose, being a chocoholic. We shared it on the train – Hackney Gelato, of course. In this heat it turned liquid after a while
Southend Victoria Station
Arriving at Southend Victoria Station. Wearing the mask the whole time wasn’t so bad. I switched to a lighter, disposable one
While Krish went for fish and chips, I walked on to my aunt’s. She lives on the top floor of a house. I think she owns the whole house, but I’m not quite sure. The bottom is rented out.  This area is quite suburban and doesn’t feel like it’s only one mile from the shore.
It’s hard to see my aunt look smaller and thinner. It makes me realise that, although these journeys are hard, there won’t be many more of them, if at all. We spent the afternoon eating our fish and chips, sitting while she watched tennis at Queens, and chatting about times gone by. It felt like only yesterday that we’d done this before, and at the same time a very long time ago. The plan was to come back for a brief visit the next day, so off we went to our hotel saying we could play it by ear and call her in the morning to see what she wanted to do  
At the bus stop where my aunt lives
At the bus stop where my aunt lives. This is a new build. We’ve seen it being built over the years. Even this old suburban area is changing
On my aunt's street
On my aunt’s street. It’s a pretty day
Aunt Ruth's house
The two-tone house is our destination
Haddock
We always order the same thing – two pieces of haddock, a large chips. It’s the nicest we’ve had anywhere and the pieces of fish are really large.

We took two buses to the hotel. the second one had a really grumpy driver who just grunted when I asked if he were headed the right way. We seemed to be going far out of our way but I got off when my bus app prompted me and there it was, right besides us, the Premier Inn.

I’d wanted to stay somewhere fancier really, but this was cheap and basic for one night. I took no photos of the room. Once in, it was nap time.

View from the landing
We were in a hotel right on the Eastern Esplanade. This was the view from the landing near the lift.
From the hotel room
And this was the gorgeous view from our room
Premier Inn, Eastern Esplanade
Premier Inn, Eastern Esplanade, built in the old gasworks

We woke up around 8pm and started the process of finding some dinner. Definitely not burgers, maybe a milkshake, though. The hot day had turned a bit cooler, but a walk might be nice, to see what we could see.

One interesting sight when leaving the hotel were two big concrete blocks. We looked closer. They had been put here in 1940 during World War II.

The War Office had seen how flat the Southend foreshore was, the gentle slope to the beach leading up to a sloping seawall and then on to the footpath and onto the road, many roads coming off leading to the heart of Southend would have offered any invading force an easy way to encroach deep in land, setting up a beach head for further landing.

Southend is very flat and during war times the slope that the beach makes would have made it easy for invading forces to creep up on the town. To help prevent this happening, the War Office built 1,804 concrete anti-tank blocks long the entire length of the seafront on the edge of the esplanade. They strung barbed wire between them. This must have been an incredible sight. The beach itself was lined with scaffolding intertwined with more barbed wire.

When the war was over, the structures were removed, and the blocks were destroyed leaving only two, opposite the gas works, now the Premier Inn. However, on 31st January 1953 there was a huge storm, bringing large quantities of water from the Atlantic and the North Sea southwards. To make things worse, the storm was reaching its peak just as high tide was due. The storm surged 5.6 meters above normal sea levels. There was flooding at the Kursaal, Gasworks, Esplanades and roads along the seafront.It was worse nearby and 59 people were killed at Canvey. After this disaster, a raised seawall was built. We were walking beside it.

Stone blocks on the Eastern Esplanade
“On the threat of invasion by the German Forces in 1940, 1804 of these concrete blocks were constructed on this sea front as part of the coastal defences.”

The walk beside the sea wall started out quietly. Southend is one of those seaside towns that must once have been genteel. I imagine ladies in long skirts and hats strolling by the beach with their parasols. I imagine that more than I imagine rowdy kids, red-faced dads with their trousers rolled up and handkerchiefs knotted on their heads, exactly like the naughty postcards that were around when I was younger. Today I’d describe Southend as a tacky seaside resort. It has a dark yellow sand, and when the tide is out, it seems like it goes out for miles. Britain’s beaches can be like that. I have very fond  memories of such beaches, waiting till dark and going out with our buckets and spades and digging for cockles, which made a lovely late dinner. There were people out there now, digging. There are arcades, ice cream shops, kiosks selling burgers, hot dogs, chips, candy floss in little plastic buckets, big round lollipops in lurid colours, sets of buckets and spades, cheap sunglasses, plastic fishing nets…but i didn’t see any sticks of rock.

I love being by the sea. As afraid as I am of water, I feel alive near bodies of water. Is it the London in me? I’m not sure. My father loved to swim, although rarely did as he grew older. I never learned how, much to dad’s exasperation and disappointment. My grandfather was a dedicated fisherman, and I often went with him on his fishing days, stopping to buy mealworms from the tackle shop – I remember they were packed in screw top tins and I’d peer at them crawling around together. And now I love the smell of the ocean. I could wake up to it every day and never tire of it, I think. When I said so, Krish surprised me by saying how much he hated it. Wow.

Southend has the longest pleasure pier in the world at 1.33 miles. You can walk along it, or you can take a little train the whole way. I haven’t done this for a very long time and I wasn’t doing to this time either. It will cost you £5.60 to take the train, £2 to walk! The link above will tell you more than you need to know – the fishing, the crazy golf, the fairground rides, the museum… and it will show you the photos that are more pristine than my own.

We’d taken a path beyond the road, closer to the beach. As we walked, it got louder and more crowded. There were loads of kids, small and larger crowds. The Essex accents filled the air loudly, the swearing, the arguing, the slightly drunken chats. We left the path and went back to the  main street.

The Thames Estuary waters
Over the raised sea wall, the tide was going out. You can see the dark yellow sand, the almost-muddy shell-strewn shelf, and the pier stretching out in the middle of the photo
Walking along the street, Eastern Esplanade
The view as we walked west along the Eastern Esplanade
Across one of the carparks, we could see a large gathering
Across one of the carparks, we could see a large gathering. We stayed well clear.

None of the diners or kiosks had anything we wanted. There was plenty of fish and chips, of course – the mainstay of any British seaside town. We settled on a takeout from a Chinese restaurant not too far from the hotel. It had a large dining room and smaller section for takeout. The food was terrible but not too terrible – the usual soupy mess that passes for good Chinese food here in the UK. We ate most of it and got ready for bed.

Terrible Chinese food
This passes for Chinese food everywhere in the UK, but it was edible and filled our empty bellies

The forecast had promised a hot day for Wednesday and thunderstorms all day Thursday. The rain fell overnight and we slept through the storm. When we woke, the sky was leaden and the tide was in.    

The short version of trying to have breakfast in a seaside hotel during a pandemic follows. At 9am we went down for breakfast. bit of a story before anyone spoke to us, but they told us we couldn’t come in because we didn’t have a booking. I knew that most restaurants now need a booking to keep numbers down, but the room was very quiet and no one had told us about booking when we’d checked in. I somehow thought that being a hotel guest would make things different. I was wrong. We booked for 10am and went back to our room.

At 10 we went back down. we got seated in a dark place behind a column. we ordered some food. ‘all you can eat’ but we started slowly, not knowing what it would be like. We had some pancakes. Krish had a (small) sausage and one poached egg and some toast. I ordered one sausage, black pudding and a grilled tomato. We both ordered tea. When they brought the tea Krish asked for more tea. Once they delivered it, we didn’t see them again. There was a loud episode where a man let the wait staff know he’d been sitting with no service for some time. Then a man and his daughter showed up and were turned away. They told him he had no booking and breakfast ended at 10:30. Krish decided he wanted more food – we really hadn’t had much at this point. but no one showed up and  we’d been asked to remain at our table. Eventually someone walked by and Krish told them he wanted to order. They told him breakfast was finished. I paid the bill while a disgruntled Krish stood by, promising to let them know what he thought of their ‘all you can eat’ breakfast. I’d say I ate enough, but I agree that it wasn’t very much for my money and shouldn’t be called ‘unlimited.’

The mostly empty dining room
The mostly empty dining room
As advertised
As advertised – Unlimited. Krish wants to complain
My breakfast
My breakfast – slice of toast, a small sausage, a slice of black pudding, and half a grilled tomato
Hard to resist a pancake
Two pancakes with some fruit and Nutella. Small and not so fluffy but who can resist?
There was an hour till check out and, while waiting, my aunt called to say that she felt very rude but could we not come back today? I’ll confess to feeling a little annoyed and sad, but I’d been prepared for this. It was dark and raining now, not the best day for wandering around, so should we just head home? We decided we would walk slowly back to the station and leave, seeing what we could along the way.
We checked out and walked in the spitting rain all along the esplanade, past loads of sleazy diners, takeaway kiosks, amusement arcades and rides towards the elevator that took us up to the town level. Krish remarked that Southend was interesting in all its ugliness. He’s right and I think there’s more to explore here, as long as you have a clue what you’re looking out. Many of the buildings dated from the early 1800s, some the 1700s.

One interesting building is the Kursaal.  (The link is worth reading.) It was built in 1901 and was the world’s first purpose-built amusement park. The iconic building was on acres of land, used as gardens and fairgrounds. Inside there was a  ballroom, a circus, an arcade, and dining room. In more recent years, there was a casino and a bowling alley. Like many such buildings, it’s had a turbulent history and is the victim of disuse and extortionate rents. Its future is shaky.

Kursaal
The Kursaal, opened in 1901 as the world’s first purpose-built amusement park attracting both locals and tourists. No one knows its future.

Along the way to town there are lots of colourful seaside attractions.













Fish and chips fish and chips fish and...
Fish and chips fish and chips fish and…more chippies than pubs

And before we left Southend, I had to walk along the beach and gather some seashells. It was quiet, it was very cool and a bit rainy, and the wooden piers and jetties are in bad shape, but they’re all part of the seaside experience here.




Southend beach is down what must have once been a cliff. There are stairs to climb to get down there. At the pier, there is an area with an elevator that takes you to up the town level.

From the elevator platform to the water
From the elevator platform, across the fairground to the pier
From the elevator platform towards the town centre
From the elevator platform towards the town centre
The Royal Hotel, built in 1791
The Royal Hotel, a listed property was  built in 1791 as a former haunt of Royalty and Aristocracy. It’s been restored and modernised and now has a ground floor cocktail bar and lounge, and a Ballroom on the first floor. I’d love to have afternoon tea here




We walked along the pedestrian high street towards the train station. Some other time I will take photos of all of the crazy buildings but today was not that day. In better weather we would have also  done something else – we still want to go to Old Leigh for example. We’d planned to after seeing her Aunt Ruth that day, but not with our suitcase and in the rain.

It was an uneventful journey home. We arrived around 3pm and spent a nap-filled afternoon, having some soup for dinner.

Not the romantic interlude I’d hoped for but it’s done. And the thing is, will we ever go again? Aunt Ruth looks like she’s fading. Krish’s surgery is in July – will we ever hear when – and it’s an expensive journey for a short visit. No bargain fares can be had, even with our discount. It remains to be seen, but Krish swears that the next trip we take will be a nicer hotel and perhaps we’ll make it so.

Foiled plans for a vaccination

Monday, May 17, 2021

After the first foiled plan for Krish’s second vaccination, when his text confirmation didn’t arrive, he was given another time and not at St Thomas but Guys. Off we went. At the vaccination centre inside Guys, they couldn’t find his name, but sent him across to where they were vaccinating.

Walking through the new London Bridge Station. We didn’t have time to pause to take photographs but I must do that some time soon

London Bridge Hospital museum photos
While I was waiting, I looked at the photos along the corridor, which Krish said was the London Bridge Museum. One shows an eye operation in 1900. and another Evelina Children’s Hospital 1895. The original Evelina Hospital for Sick Children opened in 1869 on Southwark Bridge Road, London. Funded by Austrian Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild, it was built in memory of his wife, Evelina. Evelina had died three years earlier along with their son who was premature. It is now administratively a part of Guy’s and St Thomas’ NHS Foundation Trust.
Waiting at Vaccination Centre 1 Guys Hospital
Waiting at Vaccination Centre 1 Guys Hospital

After a bit of a wait, he was turned away, since they had only Pfizer. They also discovered that his vaccination appointment was at St Thomas after all.  In a rare blip, Krish hadn’t thoroughly read the text that arrived over the weekend – in that text St Thomas was named. However, if we went to their second centre – a short walk away, he’d find a tent where they could do the job.

Queuing at Vaccination Centre 2
Queuing at Vaccination Centre 2

Vaccination Centre 2 was in the quadrangle of Kings College, so we walked over and I wandered around the area while he queued –  13 minute wait, he texted me.

I liked this quiet courtyard. There was one modern building and some older ones, as well as the lovely old part. This is where Keats trained as a surgeon. I’ll confess to not being clear on which building is which around here. It’s the usual old London hospital style – a collection of separate buildings and houses with clinics and classrooms, and cafés and what-have-you. With my crutch, bags and cameras, I don’t have the patience or energy to look at plaques and details – but I will.









Not finding a café, I strolled through the arches leading to the inner courtyard of the oldest building. Very calm in here, but no bench. There was one spot for sitting but someone had already found it. There was a statue of Ludwig Wittgenstein, a seated statue of Keats, an old drinking fountain and a couple of plaques. As far as I can tell, this is the original surgeon’s school. I had the usual sense of the centuries-ago students walking through the corridors and inner hallways, unaware of the changes that were to come for the area. I found a place opposite the seated statue where I could download a soundtrack of  ‘John Keats’ speaking about why he abandoned surgery for poetry. I wonder if I can embed it here. I went back to where I could sit among the buildings and trees.








Krish came out with another man and motioned me to stay where I was. When he did come over, he told me he hadn’t had the vaccination, that they had him in the seat, syringe loaded and ready to go, when a helper told the vaccinator to stop – his card read AstraZeneca and the syringe held Pfizer. Ooops. He had almost become a guinea pig for mixed doses.

Lobby, Guys
Not a very inspiring view inside the lobby where I waited in Guys Hospital

Back to the main hospital we went, where they said they could try to get permission to give him the AZ dose. While he was doing this, I sat in the lobby, drinking a chai latte – hungry! (We’d planned lunch but it was now getting late.) He came out once to deliver that message, then finally again to say, Let’s go. I didn’t have it. Maybe he could have but he decided that he’d rather just leave and wait for them to sort things out. It had been a long morning.
Continue reading “Foiled plans for a vaccination”

Vine Court, Whitechapel

Fri, 7 May, 2021

I didn’t go with Krish to his appointment today. The timing was wrong. But I did go to Whitechapel to meet him. There were two things on my mind – take a look at Vine Court (near Ambala) and find a good biryani. (Hint – one out of two ain’t bad.)

Getir
Istanbul company Getir has a depot under the arches. It’s a new food delivery service. We deliver groceries in minutes, day or night.’ Their bikes – all with L plates – are everywhere


Dalston Junction
I took the bus up to Dalston Junction. Lately, the traffic is solid and slow all the way up from Dalston Cross. I have to allow lots of time
The usual spaced train ride to Whitechapel, Four stops
The usual spacious train ride to Whitechapel, Four stops

Whitechapel Station is on the main Whitechapel Road but these days the station entrance is closed while they prepare for the Elizabeth Line. I chose to come this way since they have lifts at the entry and exit stations, but I didn’t count on the long walk from my platform to the side street where the temporary exit is.




Cabling at Whitechapel
I was really intrigued by the network of cables along the side of the tracks. It’s always there, of course, but I hadn’t looked it quite as closely before

Court Street, the temporary station entrance
Court Street, the temporary station entrance

I was a little surprised to see Whitechapel thronging with people. It was like Covid had never happened, except for the masks. It was Ramadan and everyone was milling about, buying things, including from the tables laden with fast-breaking food. If I’d not just started my walk and had someone to advise me, I might have been tempted to come away with a feast.







Continue reading “Vine Court, Whitechapel”

Guys Hospital – psoriasis adventures

Wednesday, 14 April, 2021

It’s been quite a year for Krish. During his eye ‘adventures,’ which I now realise I haven’t really talked about much, he developed plaque psoriasis.

No one is quite sure what cases psoriasis. Stress is a trigger, but so too is steroid use (from his eye treatment) which also means his vitamin D level was compromised. Darker skinned people naturally have lower vitamin D because of their skin pigmentation. The darker your skin the more protection you have from the sun’s UV radiation, and that protection limits your ability to absorb VitD. Both stress and low VitD contribute to suppressing the immune system. Psoriasis is an immune-driven, hyperactive response.

It started with a small patch and within weeks, it covered his scalp his trunk and legs. Lots of home skin slatherings from several ointments and lotions later, he was referred to Guys Dermatology Centre for some serious treatment. At first he saw a consultant, and the 13th he started in the clinic. I decided to go with him for this appointment. We made plans to go for what looked like a 90-minute session and then do a bit of exploring.

It didn’t quite go that way! More foiled plans…

Guys is about 5 miles away
Guys is about five miles away. We can see the Shard from our window
On the train to Liverpool Street
On the train to Liverpool Street
Distancing at the barriers
Distancing at the barriers
A bit busier than last time at Liverpool Street Station
A bit busier than last time at Liverpool Street Station
More distancing at Liverpool Street Station
More distancing at Liverpool Street Station
There'll be a new Eataly here!
There’ll be a new Eataly here! Outside Liverpool Street Station

Maybe it’s the pandemic and lack of chaos, but I kept noticing things on Bishopsgate that I’ve not seen before. I must have been there hundreds of times, so how could I have overlooked so much?

Fire Brigade Station
Fire Brigade Station – above the Tesco store on Bishopsgate
Great Eastern Railway Hotel
Great Eastern Railway Hotel, now the Andaz

So much to see hear but the appointment time was getting closer, so we got the bus over to London Bridge Station, a stone’s throw from Guy’s Hospital.

Pandemic or not, I’m always excited to see the river. In my travels I’ve realised that I need to live in (or at the edge, at least) of a city but that city must be on a river, by the ocean, or a lake. A coastal city would be ideal for me were I able to afford to live there. Today, circumstances didn’t allow me to gaze at the Thames for too long, but I loved knowing I was there.

Instead, we headed straight for the Dermatology Clinic at Guy’s. First we had to head towards the new London Bridge station entrance, right at the Shard, and down an escalator to St Thomas Street and the beginning of Great Maze Pond – what a great street name!

Bike stand at the station
Bike stand at the station. No rival to Amsterdam bike racks, but this stand would normally be packed with bikes
Looking back at the bus station, London Bridge
Looking back at the London Bridge bus station, where our bus arrived
Ghost town at London Bridge station
It really was a ghost town at the usually all-day busy newly renovated London Bridge station. I need time to explore it all – this is just a small section
Pandemic travel rules
Pandemic travel rules
The Shard
Outside the station, looking up at the Shard – I can’t see the bottom or the very top
Down to St Thomas Street and straight ahead is Great Maze Pond
Down to St Thomas Street and straight ahead is Great Maze Pond
Great Maze Pond plaque
Great Maze Pond plaque

The plaque reads ‘The “Maze” Pond, which used to be situated at the southern end of the Guy’s site, was fed by a tributary of the River Thames, now known as ‘Guy’s Creek’. Archaeological excavation of the site has unearthed an early Romano-British boat and Roman timbers edging the creek.
In the Middle Ages farmers from Kent and Surrey used to drive their cattle up to London for sale at Smithfield Market. The fields around the Maze Pond were a focal point where the cattle were grazed and watered.
“Mr Guy’s Hospital for Incurables” was built on this site in 1725. John Rocque’s 1746 Map of London shows the pond still in existence. The local street-names then included “Maze Pond”, ” Little Maze Pond” and “The Maze pond”, which subsequently became Great Maze Pond – the name it still has today.’

The hospital itself has an interesting history as does the Dermatology Centre. The hospital was founded in 1721 by philanthropist Thomas Guy, who had made a fortune as a printer of Bibles and then speculated his money in the South Sea Bubble. At first the hospital was established to treat “incurables” discharged from St Thomas’ Hospital.

The  dermatology department  is the largest clinical dermatology department in the UK. John Milton founded St John’s Hospital for Diseases of the Skin in 1863. He was a surgeon who suffered from hand eczema so severe it ended his career. His personal experience with skin disease triggered his interest in dermatology.  St John’s Hospital for Diseases of the Skin moved to St Thomas’ Hospital in the mid-1980s. Soon after, it was formally renamed St John’s Institute of Dermatology.

At the Derm Centre
Standing on Great Maze Pond with the Shard straight ahead and the entrance to the hospital on my right
Immediate skyline from Guys - the Shard pointing to the sky
Immediate skyline from Guys – the Shard pointing to the sky

There’s not a lot of fuss at Guy’s Hospital compared to my visit to Barts. There are a few banks of hand cleaners and a table with a few people in attendance. No one checked if I had an appointment and no one offered me a new mask, asked me symptoms questions or took my temperature. This surprised me. We went through this casual ‘barrier’ and on to Bermondsey Wing where the Dermatology Centre is.

Again, there’s a simple table and a guard but she doesn’t ask us anything, so Krish checks in at the desk, and we sit down in the atrium waiting area and start looking for Krish’s name to appear on the board.

The quiet waiting area
The quiet waiting area at the Dermatology Clinic

Inside the atrium of the waiting area, and a view of the Shard summit
Inside the atrium from my seat, there’s a lovely view of the top of the Shard

And wait we did. Eventually a nurse came looking for him – his name had never appeared. Off he went, while I waited. After a bit the messages started to arrive

-I’m sitting waiting now
-Totally covered
-Sticky
-Head to toe
-Wrapped head

I thought about this for a minute then I said

-Take a selfie

It occurred to me that social media phobic Krish may not know how to take a selfie, but he did. I’ll spare his dignity and your eyes by not posting those photos here but his treatment will be head to toe emollient, one hour wait, applied pure coal tar (which he described and sounded like a hot wax treatment complete with popsicle sticks), one hour wait, then a shower, then steroid ointment before leaving. He’ll be going back for this three times a week for three weeks (minimum). So, if you get severe psoriasis, expect some or all of the same.

His appointment is five hours and the plan to walk about afterwards is vanishing. Walking painfully with a crutch means I really won’t attempt it alone, but I’m OK. Instead I go for a very short look outside and to try to find a snack. I didn’t find one out there but I did take a look for as long as my legs would carry me. And there’s a lot including a reference to a buried Roman boat under the Cancer Care Centre, and some fantastic ironwork opposite the main entrance. Otherwise, it’s a bland council estate area with nothing remarkable, at first glance anyway. Continue reading “Guys Hospital – psoriasis adventures”