Brydges Place

 

Brydges Place, Bedfordbury entrance

Brydges Place is an odd curiosity, that I stumbled upon quite by accident. It has the distinction of being London's narrowest passageway, being just 15 inches at its narrowest point.

It was during one of my meandering strolls around the West End that discovered this entrance on Bedfordbury, Charing Cross. I decided to wander along it, to see where it took me.

The entrance was of a typical width of about 6 feet and about 80 feet along another entrance appeared, on my left, which leads to Chandos Place. This entrance was considerably wider and was obviously built to allow vehicles to enter for loading and unloading. 

Continuing along Brydges Place, which runs for roughly 280 feet, the only people I saw were restaurant staff exiting the rear of their premises to place rubbish in the bins. It did make me wonder if, besides those who work along its length, anyone does use this alley as a shortcut.

A sense of unease started to plague me as, slowly, the walls appeared to be closing in on me. By the time I reached the end of Brydges Place, my shoulders were almost touching both sides of the alley. 

Brydges Place, from St. Martin's Lane.

London is full of alleyways and narrow streets, some of which hide hidden gems like pubs and old shops and building. Brydges Place is not one of them. Instead, it is, quite simply, a straight walkway between one place and another. Its only saving grace, is its ability to make you feel uneasy as the walls start to close in on you. Obviously, if you entered from St Martin's Lane the opposite would be true.

A comparison of both entrances.

Temple Bar Gate

The only surviving gateway to the City of London.

It was a particularly cold Saturday morning, with a persistent drizzle, as I wandered around the City of London.

The streets were emptier than normal, even for a weekend, as I made my way down past Barbican to Postman's Park and onward towards St. Paul's Cathedral. 

As I entered Paternoster Square, which was deserted, I found this stone gateway. The rain and diffused light seemed against me getting a decent photograph, but I persevered and ended up with the image above.

 It is a remarkable gateway with an intriguing past. I will endeavour to visit the area, again, in the hopes of getting some better shots.

London Stone

 

The London Stone, in its new housing, on Cannon Street.

I first discovered The London Stone back in January 2009, when wandering the streets one evening.

It was hidden in a recess, on Cannon Street, with glass and a metal grate to protect it. The grime, from the passing traffic, had discoloured the protective glass and, although it was lit, it was hard to make out.

I took a photo, just to document what I had seen, and headed on my way.

It was only following some research in to this strange lump of limestone, that I discovered its importance.

I have returned to see the London Stone in its new home, still on Cannon Street, and am pleased to report that it now sits clearly, for everyone to see.

St Mary the Virgin Aldermanbury

The remains of St Mary Aldermanbury church.

Thursday October 29, 2020

Meandering my way through Holborn on my way toward Euston station, I passed by the remains of St Mary Aldermanbury church, which is situated beside the City of London Police HQ.

Considering its location within the City of London, it is a tranquil place to sit and relax. The footprint of the church is all that remains, with trees and shrubs having been planted to bring the area to life.

Benches are placed around a small square, so that you can relax and soak up the atmosphere.

Although only parts of the walls remain, the church lives on... across the Atlantic Ocean.

'Silver Jubilee Crystal Crown' by Arthur Fleischmann

"Its origin and purpose still a total mystery."

Wednesday October 28, 2020.

I have long been an enthusiast of science fiction films and books, with Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey being among my favourites. 

I had heard that the original concept for the 'monolith' called for it to be transparent, which would allow for visual effects to be layered onto it. 

However, when Kubrick saw the finished piece he decided against using it, opting to go with the now famous black basalt 'monolith'. 

'Monolith' plaque.

After a little online searching I found that the original acrylic 'monolith' was on display, in London, so I set about discovering it. I found it, too, affixed to a wall in St Katharine Docks.