Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Photos From A Trip To Crouch End

Inspired by two recent posts over at Sun Dried Sparrows I took the camera out with me this morning on a trip to Crouch End. It's known as 'London's Creative Village' because according to census data, 40% of the working population work in the creative industries - whoooo! I tried not to feel like an imposter, a lowly prole who (whisper it) makes Art, and writes, but earns nothing from it, unlike the industry tarts round 'ere, who've no doubt sold their 'creative' arseholes to The Man. It's not called Crouch End for nothing, you know. I go there a lot, actually, mainly to chat up Yummy Mummies in Costa with lines like 'fancy a bit of rough?' and ''Ow about a shag, luv?'

Beautiful morning. I first looked for chavs, pit bulls, junkies and muggers for authentic shots of real London life but found none so took a snap of the sunlight on the side of this house at the top of our road.

The nearby clock tower, which begs to be photographed every time I pass it. So this time I did. 

This in the road beside the pavement. They missed you...

Back of the bus stop, decollage by the local answer to Mimmo Rotella, no doubt. And we're not even in Crouch End yet. I live in such a creative area...

Hornsey Road Baths, a classic neon sign which, being on a bus, I managed not to capture very well...

London's filled with ghostly signs of old establishments and I particularly like this one. 

When travelling by train to visit a girlfriend I'd often think of Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Mercer's lyric: 'I peeked through the crack, looked at the track / The one going back to you / And what did I do? / I thought about you.' (I Thought About You'). I didn't think about her as the bus passed over this track.


Gates to Hornsey Town Hall, shamefully no longer in use, although being open it fooled me into thinking I'd be able to go in and snap what would undoubtedly be a fascinating interior. Inside there was a wooden reception desk behind which sat nobody. Exterior shots coming up...

Sculpture by Thomas Bayliss Huxley-Jones at one end of Hornsey Library.

Nice lights inside. It felt odd being in a library after many years. I was reminded of the classic Hancock sketch, The Missing Page and tempted to ask if they had a copy of Lady Don't Fall Backwards...

The Town Hall. Shouldn't it be an Art gallery by now?

Barclays bank, formerly a gas showroom...

On the way home. I've often looked at this sign and wondered what it signified....


  1. Brilliant (and thank you!). I'm like a wide-eyed child when I go down to London, and you've reminded me what I'm missing (pitbulls, junkies, muggers etc. aside) - it's been well over a year. Perhaps that card was for me, hmm?! ;-)
    Thanks for the trip, for looking above street level, for the bus-ride (and the coffee), all much enjoyed. (By the way, it would've made my day if someone had asked for 'Lady Don't Fall Backwards' when I worked p/t in my library!)

    1. Next time you're in town just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you?

  2. good commentary, i like the ghostly signs

  3. I met the lady in Lady Don't Fall Backwards!
    Nice one Robin.

  4. The book with the advert for skinny blokes in the back cover. A fine book..


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