The structure was carefully dismantled ,brick by brick , and stored for a number of years until purchased and installed by Henry Meux, son of Sir Henry Meux, a prominent London brewer, in his estate at Theobalds Park in Hertfordshire.

Following several more years  ( and due to a strong interest from those in the City of London) Temple Bar has now been rebuilt at Paternoster Square (near to St. Paul’s Cathederal) and was officially opened by the Lord Mayor of London, in November 2004                    

Sorry for the delay in publishing this blog post and also the Project Dirt Vlog. Been busy with Radio over the weekend amongst other things. The Project Dirt Vlog should be released tomorrow and the next Vlog hopefully should be out the following week.

As my new year’s resolution I was going to take at-least 4 photos from my phone (no matter what the quality of it was) to document what I have been up to and post it during the next month on here. So far it’s been okay and glad I have now a smart-phone to remind me.

January 2013:

Visit to Fleet Street, London. This was a random trip, really do enjoy travelling around the city

One of my many lunches during the month, Macaroni & Cheese with Sweet and Hot Sauce (Heinz do the best Mac&Cheese) (This was before I had Instagram and a smart-phone!)

The Snow fell and my car was covered. It was a typical Snow day in London and most of Public Transport came to a stand still.

Final picture of the month was coming from a all members meeting in Kenton for Radio Northwick Park. It was raining and we saw a rainbow

February’s blog post should be up in March 2013 and I hope you guys enjoyed reading this blog post!

From,

Sav

P.S.

If you are wondering what phone I used during January 2013,  it was a Sony Ericsson Walkman phone (not sure of model type) with a 2.0 mega pixel camera.

Hidden away in a completely unrelated Bill – namely the ERRB (the Enterprise and Regulatory Reform Bill) – are pretty much the same clauses that got thrown out before. The IPO (Intellectual Property Office) – a bunch of Patent-based Civil Servants in the fashion of Sir Humphrey from “Yes Minister” – were so miffed at their attempt to undermine photographer’s copyright being defeated that they’ve snuck their insidious plans back into Parliament hidden in a bill that has absolutely nothing to do with copyright.

There are many reasons why every photographer should be up in arms about this and we’ll list them below summarized by people who know far more about this than myself. The really, really important thing is that we still have the opportunity to send Sir Humphrey back to his Gentleman’s club in Pall Mall with a flea in his ear. They think it’s all over but it bloody well isn’t.

We still have time to effect change to the bill and even get the clauses thrown out (they shouldn’t be there anyway) but we have to act fast. We have to lobby the Lords and then we need to start a firestorm on our MP’s.

Interestingly we have some strange bedfellows as allies on this one including The Associated Press, Getty Images, Reuters, British Pathe, The Press Association, and the Federation of Commercial and Audiovisual Libraries, who have formed the International Media & Archive Consortium. They are threatening a judicial review should the bill become law, but it would be in everyone’s interest if it didn’t get that far.

This affects everyone who works in this country with a camera in their hands.

You all have to take the time to read what it means for you. Even if you just read the summary we’ve provided you’ll garner enough information to include in a letter to your MP or one of the Lords listed.

But it really is in our/your hands to do something for the good of all photographers working in the United Kingdom whether they know it or not.

Eddie Mulholland.

The proposals hidden in the Enterprise and Regulatory Reform Bill would do very serious damage to the livelihoods of UK photographers if adopted. We believe that the clauses should be removed rather than amended because:

1. They should be subject to full parliamentary debate, not buried in someone else’s bill and secondary legislation.
2. They rob photographers of their rights.
3. They would not create economic growth, they would damage it.
4. They break international law.
5. They would be subject to judicial review even as they are passing through the Commons.
6. They allow no room for the new “Copyright Hub” concept which, given time to get working, would deal with most of the problems.
7. They are no substitute for a dedicated and properly considered Copyright Bill – this is nothing more than a rights-damaging fudge proposed by the Intellectual Property Office.

At some point the IPO should learn to realize that the intellectual property that they are supposed to look after is not only that of big business, inventors but that of hundreds of thousands of small businesses and sole traders whose combined worth to the UK’s economy is substantial.

See a fuller explanation on The BPPA’s website

Follow Stop 43 - the campaigning group who did most to stop the orphan works clauses in the Digital Economy Act

• Referencing is different
• Citations are different
• Spelling is different
• Research is done differently
• Everything is different

But I survived, and hopefully I did all right.

A few things that happened since last update.

• I swear I saw Nick Grimshaw in SoHo, and I then proceeded to freak out about it all day.

For those who don’t know, Grimshaw is a BBC Radio Host and happens to be best friend with Harry Styles. If you know me, you understand the significance of being so close.

• I experienced the chaos of the tube on a football game night.

The game was England vs. Brazil at Wembley, and it was nuts. People were screaming Wembley and proceeding to fall over drunk. There was barely space to stand. And I loved every second of it. And England won, so there’s that.

• I introduced my British friends to American things like Prezi, the term college, and the concept of going to uni for four years.
• Watched the BAFTAs in all their non-commercial glory.
• Fell in love with British TV show My Mad Fat Diary and consequently with the actor who plays Finn.
• Celebrated pancake day at a diner that serves spiked shakes.
• Spent Galentine’s Day with the gals and ate dinner at La Bodega Negra.

This place is significant because the food is delicious, and also, Harry Styles ate there for his birthday. ……. Anyway, the food was absolutely superb. We were a tad nervous when going to eat there, because the outside really does not look like a restaurant. It’s kind of a bit shady, but I won’t ruin it for you. Just go and enjoy it. 

• Spent valentine’s day watching Hitchcock, which was perfect to fit my mood about that holiday. 
• Visited Fashion Week a few times

Yes, everyone was gorgeous. Yes, I felt inadequate. Yes, it was awesome watching people walk in. Yes, I would love to spend more time there. It made me realize how badly I want to succeed in entertainment journalism, so there’s that. Also, Somerset House is gorgeous. 

• Went to Fleet Street.
  
• Went to a proper football match.

We saw Chelsea play this weekend, and it was everything a proper football game should be. They defeated Brentford 4-0, scoring all four in the second half after a not-so-great first. I’m not necessarily a Chelsea fan, but since Manchester is a bit expensive to get to, I was alright with Chelsea. The experience was phenomenal, the fans were great, the day was beautiful, and the game was perfect. I love the English love of the game. 

And that’s my life. Tomorrow I get all fancied up and go to the BRIT awards. FREAKING OUT. But that’s a different post for a different  day. 

After moving to London to study journalism, the number one place I had to check out was the notorious Fleet Street, home of British publishing since the early sixteenth century. While this is no longer where most newspapers have their central offices, it is undeniable that the area will always ring with the sound of ancient printing presses and boozing ‘journos.’

Being the idealist that I am, I’ve always looked back to what some call the hay-day of journalism; where a pint of beer revealed the next big scoop and typewriters – not iPads and Mac computers – dominated the newsroom. With that aim in mind, I figured the best place to get a taste of these days gone by would be Fleet Street.

Before hitting the pubs I decided to check out the history of the area. Hidden in a passageway off Bouverie street, Magpie Alley has a tiled wall depicting the evolution of British Journalism. I learned that the first newspaper was the Daily Courant which began in 1702; journalism would call Fleet Street home from then until the 1980s.

My first pint pit-stop was the Thai Square restaurant on the West end of the street. Now, you might be wondering exactly how Thai food and journalism link together and at first glance this restaurant did seem slightly out of place. However, a plaque above the entrance door read: “Built 1625. The only strand building to survive the Great Fire of London.”

The Great Fire destroyed many of the buildings in the area in 1666, and as I quickly learned, only nine years ago did the Wig & Pen pub shut down. So, what is now a Thai restaurant used to be frequented by both lawyers and journalists (and is somewhat conveniently located an easy stumble across from the Royal Courts of Justice). I opted for a not-so-British Thai beer to accompany my delicious veggie spring rolls. The prices aren’t the cheapest here but the service and the flavours definitely make it worth your while.

The authentic stained glass windows and the narrow seating space create an old-world aura fit for heated pub debates, of which I am sure there were plenty. It is also rumoured that the headless ghost of Oliver Cromwell roams the premises. Perhaps after a few more pints I’d return and have a better chance of spotting him. For now, I was off to my next stop: The Old Bell Tavern.

The Old Bell Tavern, located at 95 Fleet Street, was home to not only  journalists on their lunch break but also Christopher Wren – the tavern’s founder – and has long been associated with the London printing industry. The Old Bell has been a licensed tavern for over 300 years and around the year 1500 one of the first printing presses in London operated here. Today the pub can be accessed from Fleet Street, however back in the day its entrance could only be found off the small alleyway (St. Bride’s avenue) opposite St. Bride’s Church.

Seeking ultimate authenticity, I decided to take this route which brought me along moss-covered stone walls and an unassuming palm tree sticking out of the garden surrounding St. Bride’s. The church has always had a close affinity with the newspaper industry; in the 1980s and ‘90s vigils were held in the church for journalists held hostage in Lebanon.

The warm glow of the tavern beckoned, and I entered willingly. Choosing a drink was difficult, as there is an eclectic selection of ales, but I finally settled on Three Mills pale ale. Sipping my pint I couldn’t help think of the pub’s past patrons. William Caxton, the first Brit to work as a printer and introduce the printing press to England, drank here. And, in 1792 the London Correspondents Society Meeting met here. Perhaps they too huddled around the fireplace in the corner after trudging through the rain.

Only a block from the Old Bell is another pub to survive the Great Fire; The Tipperary, located at 66 Fleet Street. Here, you can warm your innards with a couple pints of Guinness as the Tipperary – dating back to 1700 – boasts the title of the first Irish pub in London, and maybe even the first pub to serve Guinness outside of Ireland. It is definitely worth at least half an hour to toast your thanks to the Emerald Isle and somewhat hazily admire the shamrock floor tiles.

The final stop on my informal Fleet Street pub crawl was Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. Located at 145 Fleet Street, it is only a few doors down from the former Daily Telegraph building. This pub is most famous however for hosting London’s literary icon, Charles Dickens. Built in 1538, it burned down during the Great Fire and was quickly rebuilt the following year. Outside its door there’s an impressive list of all of Britain’s rulers since the pub opened.

Accessed only through a small passageway, the pub is deceivingly large. Consisting of multiple rooms and levels haphazardly linked, I knew I’d never be able to see the true extent of it. With gloomy wood paneling, some of which dates back to the nineteenth century, and embers glowing in a small open fireplace, I could easily see why Dickens would frequent this pub of all places. It was a pleasant surprise when a pint of Sam Smith Bitters only cost me 2.50 pounds, however the lack of music left me wanting. But I suppose overhearing fragments of conversation is more conducive to literary inspiration than the latest Top-20.

Weaving my way out of the pub, I re-entered the modern world. I did not see the ghost of Oliver Cromwell, nor did I run into Sweeney Todd, the infamous demon barber of Fleet Street. I did however, get a taste for London’s publishing past and, walking back to Chancery Lane tube station under my 3.00 pound tartan umbrella it couldn’t have been a better way to start my time here.

As someone who wrangles words for a living, I have fondness for puns. I always hope the English football team loses simply because I love the anguished wit of a Fleet Street headline that inevitable follow.

The tabloid press dedicate its energy to writing pithy lines like Rout of Africa and Eins, zwei, drei your eyes rather than hacking in to Hugh Grant’s mobile phone. Surely everyone is a winner in the situation. Except the English football team.

Plenty of people share my love for puns but the general perception is they are a guilty please, something we enjoy when should be reading Charles Dickens.

Puns are held in such low esteem because they are associated with the low culture of  tabloid headlines and Christmas cracker jokes.

Not even the most committed cultural studies theorist can argue zingers likes “What’s a specimen?” (an Italian astronaut) are worth more than a groan but just as we should not judge all music on the lyrical output of Rebecca Black, nor should we condemn puns based on a joke told in between the turkey and pudding.

At their best puns are able to convey a maximum amount of meanings in a minimum amount of words.

One of the best puns I have seen in recent years is the title of the 2010 Hilary Swank film Conviction.

Swanks plays Betty Anne Waters, a single mother who puts herself through law school in order to represent her brother, who she believes has been wrongly imprisoned. Waters’ deep-seated conviction of her brother’s innocence drives her to overturn his conviction for murder.

No homonyms, no bawdy humour, just an elegant piece of word play that sums up the entire film in a single word.

The effectiveness of puns is so great that even those who criticise them will end up using the device.

English novelist Martin Amis argues puns “offer disrespect to the language, and all they manage to do is make words look stupid”.

This contempt  did not stop him including a pun in the subtitle of arguably his best novel, Money: A Suicide Note.

Amis also provides one of the best instances how evocative a pun can be in his 2003 novel Yellow Dog, the story of Xan Meo and his wife Russia.

When Xan rapes his wife he “invaded Russia” and the reader winces, not at the pun itself but rather the brutal imagery it conveys. This is an example of words being far from stupid.

And if Amis cannot unwittingly make puns respectable then consider two classics of English literature, William Shakespeare’s Richard III and Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest.

The title of Wilde’s play refers to the name Ernest, a false identity one character has assumed in order to woo a girl, as well as the inordinate importance polite society placed of being earnest and serious.

Shakespeare begins Richard III with the famous speech “Now is the winter of our discontent/ Made glorious summer by this sun of York.”

The “sun of York” is King Edward IV, who both wore a sun as his personal symbol and was the son of the Duke of York.

Amis, Shakespeare and Wilde all used the pun not for a cheap laugh but to convey meaning in an interesting an efficient way.

The best puns are true double entendres, with both meanings understandable independent of each other while still contributing to the overall image.

“Son of York” is just as relevant as “sun of York” to the context of the speech and each makes sense on their own.

While the sub-editor who wrote Fritz All Over isn’t the the literary equal of  Shakespeare, they both draw from the English language’s  grand tradition of puns.

By all means, ridicule your drunken uncle the next time he tells you how hard it is taking inventory in Afghanistan because of the tally ban. Just remember remember the pun’s higher form, for it is merely a humble servant striving to bring laughter and meaning to our communication.

He is about to pocket a massive bonus of almost £800,000 next month,  only weeks after his bank was slapped with £391million of fines for its role in the rate-rigging scandal.

The follicaly-challenged chief executive of RBS, will be handed around £780,000 in shares next month for his performance in 2010. He will be able to cash the shares 12 months later.

And in what is likely to become a ‘triple-dip’ recession, it’s nice to know that it’s not just millionaire Coalition politicians picking the pockets of the freshly-squeezed middle.

‘It’s not what you do, it’s the way that you do it… and that’s what gets results!’

The British press coverage of the nightclub fire in Santa Maria was also tragic. More than 230 young people lost their lives, but most of what I saw from Fleet Street were links between the World Cup being at risk because of a laid-back attitude. Brazil surely has a problem with little respect for rules, but the first signs from Santa Maria showed nothing different from what happens in clubs all over the world. Including some in London I visited myself.

There were groundless opinionated articles written by people who seem to cover Brazil from their homes. That is the only reason I find for them to go crazy for the lazy and uncaring link between a global event and an incident in a college town 300 km away from its closest World Cup host-city. A town that could be anywhere in the world, just like past incidents in clubs show.

The American media just didn’t do that. Vincent Bevins, one of the finest correspondents in Brazil (he writes mostly for the LA Times), was pretty accurate: it was a local global event. Not a national one.

Understanding Brazil is not easy. It is a gigantic country, it was never in the Commonwealth and I would say Britain is possibly the European country to which Brazil has its weakest links (we have stronger ties even with Lebanon, which is much farther). But if the British press thinks of doing a good job at the World Cup and at the Rio Olympics it needs more grip with the hosts than it has shown so far.

The FT makes a very important effort in their blog “Beyond Brics”. The Economist is spot on in many stories. But the noted economical importance is not enough to get Brazil. I really don’t understand why it is so difficult for the British press, because Brazil is their kind of Bric: a stable democracy, tolerant, racially diverse and fun loving.

To leave cliches and lazy reporting behind Fleet Street needs better efforts than the one I saw in the Santa Maria aftermath. Going for the easy way will give the readership no more than what it had gotten in those days Brazil wasn’t a global player. The world has changed, guys. 

I don’t know about you but I found the sequence where he is in the middle of being interviewed and then is ‘scrambled’ to take-off, WWII Battle of Britain style, extraordinarily moving.

He is right about the lowlife exploiters who work in Fleet Street.  They are the very worst of Britain and need to be taken down.

Standing on a deserted London Bridge, looking towards The Shard, London’s tallest building, which opens its viewing platforms to the public next month…

Misty view downstream from London Bridge, towards HMS Belfast and Tower Bridge…

St. Paul’s Cathedral, as seen from the east…

The following picture deserves a few lines of explanation; you’ll see three people at the bottom left of the photograph. One is a young Japanese (I think) tourist with a camcorder, and to her left is her companion. The third individual, the chap being filmed, was actually doing a performance of ‘Feed the Birds (Tuppence a Bag)’ from the film ‘Mary Poppins’, so I’ve provided the lyrics to the same, directly after the photograph…

St. Paul’s Cathedral, as seen from the top of Ludgate Hill…

‘Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul’s
The little old bird woman comes.
In her own special way to the people she calls,
“Come, buy my bags full of crumbs.
Come feed the little birds, show them you care
And you’ll be glad if you do.
Their young ones are hungry,
Their nests are so bare;
All it takes is tuppence from you.”
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag,
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.
“Feed the birds,” that’s what she cries,
While overhead, her birds fill the skies.
All around the cathedral the saints and apostles
Look down as she sells her wares.
Although you can’t see it, you know they are smiling
Each time someone shows that he cares.
Though her words are simple and few,
Listen, listen, she’s calling to you:
“Feed the birds, tuppence a bag,
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.”
Though her words are simple and few,
Listen, listen, she’s calling to you:
“Feed the birds, tuppence a bag,
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.”‘

At the bottom of Ludgate Hill, beyond Ludgate Circus, lies Fleet Street, and Valentino, is the first shop on its northern side…

By now, the snow was coming down rather heavily, so I took refuge for a while in an Irish pub,’The Tipperary’, opposite Valentino’s, on the southern side of Fleet Street…

A pint of ale called Doom Bar, and a packet of Tayto Cheese and Onion Crisps …

At the western end of Fleet Street, stands a rather splendid church called St. Clement Danes…

…and here’s St. Clement Danes, as seen from the west…

A bit further along the road, I caught sight of both bird and human footprints in the snow .

Beyond Fleet Street, lies The Strand, and at the western end of it, opposite Charing Cross Station, are these four red telephone boxes…

Alongside Charing Cross Station, running down to The Embankment is Villiers Street, and this is the entrance to Victoria Embankment Gardens, as seen from the bottom of Villiers Street…

Within Victoria Embankment Gardens, are several statues, and this is part of one dedicated to W.S. Gilbert. The engraved quotation , copied below, comes from ‘Yeoman of the Guard’…

‘Is life a boon?
If so, it must befall
That Death, whene’er he call,
Must call too soon.’

Cleopatra’s Needle, on the Victoria Embankment…

One of two Sphinxes, guarding Cleopatra’s Needle…

Having now crossed the river to the South Bank via Hungerford Bridge, here is part of the Albert Embankment, in front of the Royal Festival Hall…

The London Eye, unsurprisingly less busy than usual today…

…and finally, not far from The London Eye, a row of ‘Boris Bikes’, doing even less business…

Sunset at London’s Canary Wharf. Photography: Mike Unwin

My first work placement of 2013 took me to the dizzying heights of Trinity Mirror’s 20th and 21st floor offices in the iconic One Canada Square, for two weeks at The Wharf. I’ve always found Canary Wharf a strange, soulless bubble of a place but I’ve slowly come to appreciate its serious, corporate charm (and it looks great at sunset.)

As a journalist, though, it’s an unusual place to work. Having spent almost all my previous work experience at national newspapers, I wanted a taste of something smaller, more local and hands on.

I’d contacted a number of local newspapers in east and north London but The Wharf was the first I heard back from and, to be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Unlike your typical local newspaper, The Wharf”s readership is not local residents – Canary Wharf is certainly no Islington, Newham or Hackney – but, instead, is made up of business people working locally.

The suited and booted bankers, accountants, analysts and developers, who file out of the Jubilee line station and into their corporate skyscrapers, hold a very different stake in the area from the readers of the Islington Gazette or the Newham Recorder. The local news I spent last term writing for Islington Now - school fundraisers, community centres under threat, and council rows over leisure facilities or air pollution - is not really of interest to the Wharfers, most of whom live elsewhere anyway, so instead I found myself working on a lot of features, from fad diets, hotel reviews and fitness, to high-end Valentine’s gifts, women entrepreneurs and theatre.

Working in such a small, friendly team (just five journalists, including myself, the editor and deputy editor) was a great experience, and vastly different from being the work experience kid in a newsroom of dozens. There was huge scope for working independently on 300-800 word features, on a really varied range of topics.

On Monday of this week, I woke up in an east London hotel and interviewed the general manager for a review, before making my way to the London Boat Show, where I researched a feature on kayaking, and then heading into the office to interview a playwright about her latest production.

Around the same time I started at The Wharf, I also started reading Towards the End of the Morning - Michael Frayn’s classic Fleet Street novel, set during the late 50s, at the start of his own career in journalism, when journalists were men and women were wives. It’s a fascinating read, although the former literature student in me is starting to wonder whether studying journalism, writing journalism and reading about journalism all day, every day, might be verging on overkill (I’ve also got the latest McEwan on the go, for a bit of balance).

Earlier this week, a quote from protagonist John Dyson caught my imagination:

“I know something about a lot of things. I’m a journalist, Bob.”

The thing I always loved about studying literature was the enormous variety of disciplines, theories, cultures and politics I learnt about, and it’s equally true of journalism. Just like the study of literature can take in psychology, sociology, politics, history, religion, and then some (sometimes all in one seminar!) there are very few professions where you can be chatting to an Olympic rower one day, and interviewing women who’ve started their own business, or sampling Valentine’s chocolates, the next.

To slightly complicate my time at The Wharf, this week also marked the nerve-wracking start of job interview season. As the onslaught of interviews and applications intensifies, I’m more than a little nervous about that great, looming unknown that lingers threateningly at the end of June. But, more than six and a half years since my first day of unpaid work experience, the prospect of one day finally being paid, on a regular basis, for doing the best job in the world, is more exciting than I – an almost professional writer – know how to put into words.

Articles published:

• Rising to the challenge of the 600 calorie lunch (pdf)
• Paddle and pedal on the river for a healthier body (pdf)
• Writer weaves unsettling myth from modern worry (pdf)

(And more to be published in the next few weeks.)

Related posts: 

• Work experience: Press Association
• Work experience: Metro

A few days late because we’ve been moving in to our dorms and were in Stonehenge (bonus video found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4dZII1G2eM&feature=youtu.be) on Friday and not near a computer.

We spent the week before the start of term in London, and here is a sort of video diary of all the fun we had!

Check out the bonus video and like and favorite this video!

The Economist

I am a keen collector of rare coins, I dabble in fine scotch (single malt, if you will) I’m an accomplished amateur Piccolo player and I enjoy a good pull on my trusted pipe (a man is truly nothing without his pipe) loaded with Bavarian Bullhorn. I relish being in the great outdoors, drinking in all of nature, with one of my favourite spots being the rose garden in Greenwich Park. Another is atop the hill next to the observatory, admiring the view of smoking chimney stacks and church spires – ahh, the majesty of London.

Here is a sketch of that view, ’tis wonderful :

Allow me to tell a tale ; I operate a small practice on a side street near Oxford Circus, goes by the name of Harley Street, and I’m in need of some more, let’s say, refined, clients. So I place an advertisement in The Times in expectant hope. Within a couple of days, a gentleman that looks like a weasel paid me a visit and showed a real interest in human biology, and in particular the decomposing process. I hid my disgust at his appearance as he was not what I was desiring in clients, but of course, being a man of knowledge who is eager to share (for otherwise what purpose do we learn?) I started to explain about various factors that affect the process, such as age, health, ambient temperature and humidity. He looked confused at the word ambient, but generally had a hunger in his eyes. This hunger (along with his face) disturbed me greatly so I quickly cut off and enquired about his line of questioning. He said something about working in a funeral parlour, had always been fascinated with the end of his business he couldn’t see, made his excuses and left. What an odd fellow.

I carefully sat in the chesterfield, lit my pipe and had a think. Yes, what an odd fellow. Shortly afterwards my attention was caught by a scuffle in the road outside, so I stood by the window to watch and the whole affair left my mind.

That reminds me, I spotted a good looking barber shop just along from The Times’ offices on Fleet Street, I must pay them a visit for a shave.

Until next time.

Dr W

(In case you wondered, this is a fictional character, so please don’t ever take any medical advice seriously, although Scotch or tobacco recommendations will be genuine)

Related articles

• The Most Beautiful Parks in London (localnomad.com)

Student days – the ’74′ skiffle group. After a year of fun, gigging up and down the A5 trunk road, we all did badly in our exams and gave it up.

Towards the end of my apprenticeship (so approaching 21 years old), when I was studying for a Higher National Diploma in Applied Physics, I was awarded a scholarship to go to university to do a BSc in Physics (clever little sod at that time despite spending most of one year doing gigs up and down the A5 – no M1 motorway then – as the thimble-toting washboard/ukulele player in a skiffle group. Anyone remember skiffle, Lonnie Donegan, a real musician?). By then I was beginning to want to change to something involving writing but I took up the scholarship in London. It lasted only a year before I made a determined attempt to get in to journalism, a goal I reached in about 3 months.

Suet dumpling and Baby Belling

Back to student days. We received our student grant in three amounts a year, one at the beginning of each term. Being totally unskilled in financial management, and caring even less, we spent most of it in the first few weeks. So, what to eat for the rest of the term?

I invented a kind of large biscuit, basically the same recipe as suet dumpling, but flavoured with an Oxo beef cube (or maybe Bovril?), flattened out to a circle about the size of a dinner plate, which went under the grill of the bed-sit Baby Belling cooker for a few minutes. That was ‘dinner’ most days of the week (unless I had a good win at poker).

Yesterday, while drafting this post, I threw some chicken legs, onion, garlic, carrot, celery, a lot of lentils and a very large ‘bouquet garni’ into a Romanian gypsy pot, added pepper (a lot) and salt (very little), covered with water and left to simmer till tender. Then I made my large suet ‘biscuit’ (flour:suet two to one) but instead of Oxo laced it with parsley and sage. Rolled out very roughly to fit the pot, dropped on top of the chicken then in the oven for about 20 minutes.

Simple, quick, but deliciously, warmingly filling on a day when snow is falling.

Into Fleet Street

So, having finished my first degree year I decided not to continue. I walked down Fleet Street, then the true centre of the Press, and called in every editorial office saying I wanted a writing job. “Have you any experience?” was the inevitable question in each one. “No”. “Well come back when you have”.

I was lucky. A good friend’s sister had a boyfriend who was a journalist with a north London newspaper group. He took me to meet the editor. “We can’t give you a job”, he said, “but if you want to come in every day and do whatever we ask we’ll buy you a beer and sausages lunch in the pub every day”. Of course I took it.

First I had to learn to type. I was put in front of a very ancient Underwood typewriter and given a para, which used every key, to type over and over again. It wasn’t ‘The quick brown fox …’ and it’s not repeatable here. I mastered the typewriter.

Then I was sent out on every imaginable kind of story – court reporting, council meetings, accidents, sports events, more than I can remember now. I loved it. I learned so much, but particularly how to make a front page story from nothing, how to condense a story into a selling headline, what makes a good picture, how to cut a story to fit a space without losing its essence and, most important of all, the fact that you can never, never miss a deadline.

Fleet Street again

It was time to attack Fleet Street again. The walk of three months before was repeated, to no avail until I reached Bouverie House, headquarters of a then renowned publisher of trade/technical journals, Benn Brothers. The Editorial Director, Mr Woolley (no first names in those collar and tie times!), agreed to see me. He listened to my story then asked, “Do you know anything about chemistry?” “Not a thing”, I said, though I did have to belatedly sit and pass the GCE ‘O’ level chemistry exam to take up my BSc Physics scholarship. “I’m sorry”, he said, “but the only vacancy we have is on a weekly chemical industry newspaper”. “I’ll take it”, I said, and surprisingly he accepted that. That was 1962.

Again my luck was in. As I have written in my ‘About’ piece, the editor of the chemical industry news journal, Mike Hyde, a superb journalist, was one of the two biggest positive influences on my journalistic life; although he ‘threw me in the deep end’, giving me a major story to cover on my first day, he was always there to advise, guide, correct and understand, helping me to continue to accrue the knowledge and skills which had begun earlier on the local newspapers. He also sent me, for the first time in my life, all over Europe, including Communist Europe, an invaluable experience for someone in their early 20s in the 1960s. (Imagine arriving in, say, Prague, not a word, sign or speaker of English anywhere, everything in Cyrillic. You learn very fast!).

At that time I set myself a target, to be an editor and have an income of £3,000 a year (£42,000 or much more in today’s money) by the time I was 30. I achieved it two years earlier than that, no small credit to Mike Hyde.

Nowadays the chances of a keen young writer being able to repeat my experience is about nil; without a degree in journalism, media studies or the like they’ll have no chance. This has done nothing for the standards of journalism today. The appreciation of the value of learning by experience, as I did during my apprenticeship and my early times in the Press, has been replaced by the idea that everyone MUST go to university. It’s a sad, destructive nonsense.

So now – 1962 – I’m a journalist; I’ll continue the story another day.

The tour is “Highlife – Lowlife” & covers the Fleet Street area, taking in St. Brides’s church, a real relic from a 13th century priory, the first building erected after the Great Fire of London, Dr. Johnson, a local serial killer, an ancient City gate, &statues dating to 1586 amongst many other facts & buildings.

cherub with fruit bowl

At the end of the tour you will have the opportunity of locating this delightful ceramic & the one below, in an unusual setting!

White House Spokesperson Jay Carney “President Obama believes that the Second Amendment guarantees an individual right to bear arms however, the Constitution not only guarantees an individual right to bear arms, but also enshrines the freedom of speech and the freedom of the press — fundamental principles that are essential to our democracy.” Piers Morgan cannot claim absolution under FREEDOM OF PRESS in that he is an entertainment show host in America not a gumshoe or a JOE AMERICA REPORTER.

THE TELEGRAPH reporter GUIDO FAWKES aka blogger Paul Staines pointed out PIERS MORGAN describing in his book THE INSIDER a “little trick” of entering a “standard four digit code” allowed “anyone” to call a number and “hear all your messages”. Conservative and Liberal Democrat MPs demanded PIERS Morgan be questioned during the independent inquiry. Aidan Burley, Tory MP for Cannock Chase, said: “Piers Morgan should be called to the phone-hacking inquiry to face questions on oath.”

As well as being the, PIERS MORGAN former former editor of the Mirror, show business editor of the Sun and former editor of the News of the World was described by the TELEPGRAPH as a “successful broadcaster in the US, working as a judge on America’s Got Talent, the US version of the British show, and as the host of CNN’s main talk show, after he replaced Larry King.” The Mirror said it has never hacked phones. PIERS MORGAN Morgan  editor of the Mirror from 1995- 2004 won Scoop of the Year at the British Press Awards for using his “little trick” to scoop the story about Ulrika Jonsson, a television presenter having an affair with England football manager Sven Goran Eriksson.

The LEVESON REPORT called PIERS MORGANs testimony about phone hacking “utterly unpersuasive.” Witnesses testified that PIERS MORGAN told them how to hack into phones. The MIRROR was sued by people who claim their phones were hacked during his editorship. Lord Justice Leveson wrote about a 2007 interview Morgan gave calling phone hacking an “investigative practice that everyone knows was going on at almost every paper in Fleet Street for years.” PIERS MORGAN claimed he was “passing on rumors.” Lord Justice Leveson wrote “This was not, in any sense at all, a convincing answer. Overall, Mr. Morgan’s attempt to push back from his own bullish statement to the Press Gazette was utterly unpersuasive,” Leveson wrote. Lord Justice Leveson chastised PIERS MORGAN as “sufficiently unembarrassed by what was criminal behavior that he was prepared to joke about it.”

Mr Morgan’s diary entry for January 26, 2001 reads “Apparently if you don’t change the standard security code that every phone comes with, then anyone can call your number and, if you don’t answer, tap in the standard four digit code to hear all your messages. “I’ll change mine just in case, but it makes me wonder how many public figures and celebrities are aware of this little trick” a DARE faux investigative journalising bloggers if I ever heard one…

Prove PIERS guilty? Bye bye Piersie

A few days ago, during our romp through London, our group toured the BBC and Fleet Street, two landmark names associated with the media in Great Britain. The tour of the BBC, heralded as one of the premier broadcast television networks in the world (not to mention the largest), offered me and the rest of my group insights into television sets, newsrooms, studios and other behind-the-scenes locations in both the radio and the television centers. Although I come from a print journalism background, and get much of my news from print sources, I truly enjoyed the tour through the BBC and was excited by all the great things they do there, and appreciated getting an insider’s look at both the radio studios as well as the television studios.

But what make me think and reflect the most on the day we toured the BBC TV studios and Fleet Street was our tour through Fleet Street. Becky and I were the pair that studied the print media history of Fleet Street and while we might be biased, both coming from a print journalism background, it was an exciting and rich history that I was personally looking forward to experiencing in person. But modern day Fleet Street offered hardly any homage to the great British print media beginnings that I found so interesting in my fall semester research. Where was the evidence of this rich history? Walking down the street, I kept my eyes peeled for any evidence of former print media publications or, at the very least, commemorative objects on the streets that acted as remembrance to the history, but I was disappointed to find hardly any reference to print media. In fact, the only specific commemoration was an alleyway that detailed the history of print media on Fleet Street, and it wasn’t even located right off Fleet Street. Many probably did not even know about the alleyway and would not have been able to experience the history and read what happened on the street only a few decades ago.

From all of the research about how print media has evolved in Great Britain – from the days of extreme censorship, to the invention of the printing press’ affect on print media distribution, to the rise and fall of yellow journalism – it’s so interesting to me that there isn’t a better, clearer representation and homage to this history in Great Britain. While Fleet Street was very cool, with the Punch Tavern and the grandiose Royal Courts located toward the end of the street, it was a bit disappointing to me, as a print journalist hopeful, to see little reference to the history, minus the alleyway located two streets off Fleet Street. To the unknowing passer-by, Fleet Street could simply be just another street in the huge city of London, but in actuality, it has great historical context that I feel should be present and visible, perhaps in a museum-like format.

Despite our in-class lessons, I still wasn’t prepared for the diverse history that surrounded us going down every street and ally way.

My favorite part of being in London was that every building was architecturally beautiful, from the amazing landmarks such as Westminster Abby and the houses of Parliament to the more everyday hotels, pubs and coffee shops, there isn’t a place without ornate carvings, sculpture or significance. It is incredible to see these places that pre-date America’s constitution by several thousand years.
It was interesting to see the juxtaposition Fleet Street – the former home of media in London – and the divisions of the BBC – an extremely popular coroporation that covers many aspects of radion and T.V. broadcasting. Fleet Street was – in my opinion – underwhelming, with little more than an ally way to prove it was ever a place of historical significance. In comparision, the BBC is still changing and growing to adapt to the demands and technology of modern times.

 Although they aren´t specifically related to the media, I reallly enjoyed our visits to Westminster Abby, St. Paul´s Cathedral and St. Bride´s Church. They were all filled with beautiful art, incredible architecture and fascinating historical articacts. As someone who grew up in a house where religion is important, I love to see the progression of history over time via these buildings as well as think about the role it has played in recording and creating history for thousands of years.
My experience in the past four days has been that the best memories come from unplanned moments. In addtion to the planned tours, having the chance to explore the city on our own made me love the London experience so much more. Just by walking the city we found antique markets, cute shops, delicious restaurants and and tunnel mureled with the most artistic graffiti I´ve ever seen. It was impossible not to get caught up in all the culture and things happening all around .

- Erin Bucksbaum

The house and land came into the hands of the Hoare family in 1717, when Henry Hoare I bought it for the family home, far away from the hustle and bustle of London, where his father had founded a bank in Fleet Street. His father, Sir Richard Hoare’s bank had been so prosperous that he had been knighted by Queen Anne and became Lord Mayor of London.

“Henry the Magnificent”, or Henry II, was responsible for the enchanting  gardens and he no doubt got a helping hand from his friend Capability Brown, who, in 1764 he was appointed to the  position of Master Gardener at Hampton Court Palace in Surrey. In a country that celebrates the art of gardening, Stourhead is the most admired example of 18th-century English landscape gardening.

The house is just full of family heirlooms and items that reflect the different personalities of the many generations of the Hoare family.

The Hoares are even more interesting than their house:

1. In 1676 the Hoare family founded the Hoare’s Bank, which today has the oldest purpose built banking hall in Britain.
2. In 1798 and 1810, some of the first recorded excavations of Stonehenge were done by Richard Colt Hoare and his archeology companion William Cunnington.
3. Richard Hoare is elected Lord Mayor of London (three Hoare’s have held the position of Lord Mayor of London) in 1712 and during the Jacobite Rebellion, he mobilises the local guard to defend London from Bonnie Prince Charlie, if he were to reach the City.
4. 1763 the Hoare Bank issued the first printed cheque
5. Due to the bank’s location, temporary balconies were erected for the staff and customers to watch Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee procession.
6. Customer ledgers were written by hand until 1962.
7. Lord Byron (poet) and Jane Austen (author) were customers of the bank

Today the bank is still in the Hoare family and run by 10^th and 11^th generation, they have three West End branches, 350 staff, a balance sheet of almost £2billion and apparently a partner or member of the family has to stay in the bank overnight.

Henry Hugh Arthur Hoare was completely devoted his beloved Stourhead. He was devastated when his son died in World War I and feared the house and estate would not preserve the history of his family, and so in 1947 he gave Stourhead to the National Trust for us all to enjoy.

www.fromestory.wordpress.com

For more stories about London and her people: www.thelegendsoflondon.wordpress.com

At Fleet Street, you will almost miss the place. It is in a small alley and I walked past its entrance door twice. My friend was like ‘arrey aisa kaisa entry banaya hai’. We’re so used to going to expensive places you know. ‘No I think this could be the door’. The pub is divided into different rooms which can accommodate around 30-40 people I think. The first room can hardly take 12-15 people and there was a group of British men discussing something interesting with a really dark brown beer, not Guinness am sure. The pub is huge and has minimal lighting, almost makes it a shady place with really old wooden furniture. The walls are full of history, the legendary parties and hosts it has attended, licenses from 1900′s, paintings, old maps of Fleet Street. You ought to be here, if you’re in London anytime. It’s the closest you can get to history with a drink in your hand. Have a look at some of the photos I managed to click while I learn to pronounce Cheshire.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

P.S.: The drinks are not usually the ones you get at other London pubs. When you order food, they give a small device which vibrates when the order is ready. So you can roam around the different rooms, go downstairs and enjoy the place while your order is getting ready without having to wait at the bar.  Did you see the solid heaters?

Wherein we meet again our auld acquaintances:

Phantom of the Opera
Hamlet Hamlet
Prince Philip’s bladder
Killer Net
Angela Lansbury fantasies
R Kelly’s fancy parties
the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution
Devon vs Cornwall scone wars
sex Jenga
the Owl and the Pussycat
the 21st-century Sweeney Todd
Olly’s solo sex tape
Helen taking an off-brand fruit into the Apple store
and
Charlie’s Angles.

And there are more previously unheard bits of AMT, which you can have more of every week if you posess the AMT App, available for iDevices and Android – on which you also get our Best Of episodes from the past five years, if you trawl through diligently enough.

Please be generous with your QUESTIONS for AMT in 2013: email them to answermethispodcast@googlemail.com or leave voicemails on the Question Line by calling 0208 123 5877 or Skype ID answermethis.

We’ll be back on 10th January 2013, but you can still hear plenty of us before then:

• We’ll be running through the year’s biggest online events on Saturday Edition, BBC 5 Live 8pm 29th December or available shortly after as the Let’s Talk About Tech podcast.

• Olly will be Manning the microphone on LBC 97.3 FM, 1-4am most nights from Xmas Eve to Jan 3rd – check lbc.co.uk for the schedule, and rouse yourself from your festive stupor to give him a call and keep him company.

• Helen will crop up on BBC 5 Live’s Radio Review of 2012, hosted by Jane Garvey and Mike Sweeney, which will be broadcast on at 11pm on Christmas Eve, repeated 4pm on Christmas Day, or, if you want to listen at a more sensible time, it’ll be available on the 5 Live website straight after.

• You can hear us discussing Christmas gadgets and songs on Steve Wright in the Afternoon on BBC Radio 2 on 20th December. UPDATE: Here’s the link to the item on iPlayer.

• And we wrote some bits for the Celebrity Juice Christmas Specials; part one is already on ITV Player and part two will follow on tonight.

We hope you have very happy festivities, and we’ll see you next year!

Helen & Olly

PS if you need more noise to drown out the sound of sleighbells and Wizzard, direct yourself to our Jubilee and Sports Day albums, as well as AMT1-120.

ALBUMS • iTUNES • CLASSIC EPISODES • BOOK • QUESTION ARCHIVE • FAQ
iPHONE APP • ANDROID APP • FACEBOOK • TWITTER • YOUTUBE • MERCH