Weekly Blog. Waterloo Sunset 11th - 17th February

“Love doesn’t make the world go round. Love is what  makes the ride worthwhile.” 

(Franklin P. Jones)

I happened to be in London for St Valentine’s Day en route to Waterloo Station. I was on my way to south west London to the house of a friend for dinner. It was mild and sunny with London luxuriating in one of the first days of Spring. The usual busy, rushed furore that is London was replaced by couples strolling along holding hands, making the city seem more like Paris than London. I   had some time on my hands and so decided to join this relaxed softly murmuring flow of people and took a walk over Waterloo Bridge. I had flown over from Ireland a couple of days previously and had read with interest in a Ryan Air magazine that St Valentine was actually buried in Dublin. However this is not quite true. There is a shrine in Whitefriars church in Dublin with a relic of St Valentine. In 1835 an Irish Carmelite called John Spratt went to Rome and came to the notice of the pope as he was a good preacher. Pope Gregory XVI gave him a token of esteem in the form of a relic of St Valentine. John Spratt was also responsible for building a new church to Our Lady of Carmel in Whitefriar Street, Dublin and that is how a piece of St Valentine came to rest there. 

One of the big pieces of news in London during the week that I was there was the story of how an urban fox had entered a house in south eastLondon.

 He proceeded to try and drag a 4 week old baby out of it’s cot on to the floor. The mother heard an awful scream and when she entered, managed to kick the fox off the baby. The baby sustained hand and facial injuries but is now recovering well.  This has re awakened the debate on the problem of urban foxes and how they seem to be becoming more prevalent in cities and attacking people. The question has been raised of whether there are more foxes in urban areas than before. However it appears that urban fox numbers do not appear to have increased since the last census carried out in the 1980’s. But animal behaviour experts say it is possible urban foxes are coming out into the open more as they become more accustomed to humans and are getting braver down the generations.  Recently in Chadwell Heath, a suburb on the outer fringes of East London in Essex where I was brought up, I had thought that foxes had seemed to be more present. When I was young I never saw foxes in Chadwell Heath. But now when I return to see my parents I see foxes quite frequently - freezing for a second in the middle of the road or in a front garden. They fix me with their intent gaze before sliding seamlessly away.  For me today’s  presence of the fox fills a gap of another much smaller mammal I remember seeing frequently in Chadwell Heath when I was young. Hedgehogs are now on the list of Britain’s 10 most endangered species. I remember seeing them trundling across roads, curling up defensively against eagerly nosing dogs and snuffling around in suburban garden privet hedges for slugs and snails. Unfortunately I would often see their rather mournful looking flattened remains dotted around our streets – their slow, rambling gait making the hedgehog, like the badger an easy victim for cars. Now I never see a hedgehog in Chadwell Heath just as I never see the privet hedges where they used to forage or the grassy squares that made up all of the front gardens at one time. These have all been replaced with concrete on which people now park their cars and gives  the street where I was brought up  in Chadwell Heath a sparse, denuded aspect – no trees, shrubs flowers or grass  - no  green, just the relentless grey of concrete. 

I continued my walk over Waterloo Bridge and then along the Embankment to the Millennium Bridge to cross back over the river to rejoin once again Waterloo Rail Station. I like walking over the Millennium Bridge, standing in the middle and glimpsing St Paul’s Cathedral at one end and the squat, square Modern Tate Gallery at the other. The day continued sunny and almost balmy, provoking tempting thoughts of that always longed for Holy Grail of a hot summer. 

Once back in Waterloo Station I went into both of the small Marks and Spencer's shops situated opposite the platforms. They were mobbed – as if the whole focus of St Valentine’s Day was concentrated into these two cramped shops. Everyone had made a beeline for the roses and chocolates section and were milling around like shoals of fish caught in a net. It made me think of what a strange beast love is. How you can take it so much for granted and not notice it even if it is right in front of you, how powerful it is. Take the unconditional protective love of parents, any parents, even fish parents. I remember seeing a pair of angel fish in a tank in India. The female had laid her eggs on a gently wafting frond of one of several plants in the tank. Each time I tried to peer into the tank to take a look at the eggs, the father angel fish would rush in front of the frond trying to hide the eggs from my gaze with his large flat body – protecting his brood. I found it strange and poignant seeing that fierce protectiveness in a fish. It made me realise that the best parts of love are sometimes not the big displays of roses and chocolates that you can buy in places like Marks and Spencer's. These are like the more ostentatious and splendid tourist attractions of London, like Big Ben, the Tower of London, Houses of Parliament – obvious, easy to access, the bits of London people think they should see. Just like the standard fare of St Valentines Day seems to be “roses and chocolates”.  But some of the best parts of London are hidden away in the backstreets. Swoop down a small alley off one of the busiest London streets, Bond Street and you come to the charming village like aspect of Marylebone. Head off left down a dark narrow street off Holburn Viaduct and you find the Old Curousity Shop, unassuming and discreet and yet immortalised within the timeless fame of Dickens. Then there is the OldEnglish Garden tucked away in a corner of Battersea Park.This is truly a secret garden, an oasis of calm where you while away an afternoon sprawled in dozy, somnolent fashion on benches, cleverly placed to catch the sun.

Jostling around amongst the crowds in Waterloo Station I hoped that all the people around me were experiencing love like a native Londoner, eschewing the more obvious attractions such as beauty, charisma, power, financial stability and discovering more unoticed but no less charming aspects like  loyalty,chivalry,  kindness and devotion.

The area around Waterloo Station and Waterloo Bridge were made famous by that song called “Waterloo Sunset” written and sung by the 1960’s rock band “The Kinks”.

View from Waterloo 14th February 2013

Seeing all those couples holding hands on Waterloo Bridge, looking across at the silhouette of Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament and the London Eye in the darkening afternoon and setting sun, I think of the group frontman Davies who wrote the song. He outlines in an interview in 2010, how at the age of 13 he had been very ill and was in St Thomas’s Hospital situated near Waterloo Bridge. The nurses would wheel him out onto the balcony to look at the river and the same sunset we were all witnessing on that late Spring afternoon. And knowing that information, it made   sense of some of the lyrics of that song for me:

“But I don’t feel afraid.As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset, I am in paradise”

"Waterloo Sunset" by the Kinks

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling
Flowing into the night
People so busy, makes me feel dizzy
Taxi light shines so bright
But I don't need no friends
As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset
I am in paradise

Every day I look at the world from my window
But chilly, chilly is the evening time
Waterloo sunset's fine

Terry meets Julie, Waterloo Station
Every Friday night
But I am so lazy, don't want to wander
I stay at home at night
But I don't feel afraid
As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset
I am in paradise

Every day I look at the world from my window
But chilly, chilly is the evening time
Waterloo sunset's fine

Millions of people swarming like flies 'round Waterloo underground
But Terry and Julie cross over the river
Where they feel safe and sound
And the don't need no friends
As long as they gaze on Waterloo sunset
They are in paradise

Waterloo sunset's fine