jamesofwalsh

The Rail & Sail from Harwich

On Halloween I took a spooky trip on the rail and sail to Berlin. Well, to hook of holland. Then to Amsterdam. Then Berlin. It’s a long journey, but if you’ve got the time, and object to short haul flying for various understandable reasons, it’s well worth it. We set off from Liverpool Street station,Continue reading “The Rail & Sail from Harwich”

On the morning Thameslink to St Pancras

Excuse me, can you keep your child under control? He’s pulling at my hair A woman attempting to do her eye make-up while peering into a Moomin branded mirror admonishes the mother behind her. Said harshly at first, but request ended with an apologetic laugh, because there’s only so rude you can be on aContinue reading “On the morning Thameslink to St Pancras”

Blackfriars station

Blackfriars station at night seems over-large. Nearby attractions are sparse. There’s the Blackfriar pub, a curious wedge-shaped Art Nouveau building saved after a campaign by Sir John Betjamin. There’s the automatic flowers machine in the concourse of the station itself, where guilty city workers in need of an evening gesture can drop twenty five quidContinue reading “Blackfriars station”

London Loves: the fanzine

Forever ago, I ran a club night with some friends. It was called London Loves. Last month, we brought it back, probably for one night only. We put together a fanzine to go with the night, which served to remind me how much I love fanzines, and left me with a vague desire to putContinue reading “London Loves: the fanzine”

Balfron Tower, Poplar

The National Trust are running tours of a Brutalist masterpiece in east London. The stock warnings on their website as you book – picnic hampers are usually allowed, but check before your visit – reveal that this isn’t your typical NT territory. We are advised to meet outside a cafe in Poplar called Starlight. UnexpectedlyContinue reading “Balfron Tower, Poplar”

Park Hill, Sheffield

All the things we saw: everyone on Park Hill came in unison at 4.13 AM and the whole block fell down – Pulp, Sheffield: Sex City My last memory of Sheffield was walking along West Street listening to Richard Hawley. Side streets falling back down one of the city’s seven hills gave me dramatic viewsContinue reading “Park Hill, Sheffield”

“But I shouldn’t call them that. They’re Bengalis.” The 133 bus to Streatham, midnight on Sunday

She was sat on the top deck of the bus. The tinny dance music poured out of her phone. It wasn’t quite loud enough to be antisocial by local standards, but the inhabitants of the top deck had been in England long enough to be socialised into ignoring her anyway. Dressed in a tracksuit andContinue reading ““But I shouldn’t call them that. They’re Bengalis.” The 133 bus to Streatham, midnight on Sunday”

“I tend towards thinking that the moon landings were a bit of a hoax.” – at Dulles International Airport

Two men are sat up at the counter of a bar in Washington Dulles airport’s departure lounge. Though strangers, they greet each other and talk with the practiced ease of international business travelers. They get straight down to the important topic: how to save America. Earlier today, Space shuttle Discovery made a farewell fly-by ofContinue reading ““I tend towards thinking that the moon landings were a bit of a hoax.” – at Dulles International Airport”