Tag Archives: Phil Ryan

Londoner's Life 15 – by Phil Ryan

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Well apart from the typical June London weather of pouring rain and blazing heat another London tradition seems to have now embedded itself. The London Food festivals. These extravaganzas are everywhere now it seems. Every borough has its own version. But they seem to follow a distinct pattern. A mixture of great produce and stuff that looks like MI5 should get involved. Weird looking space veg and purple and red oils that wouldn’t look out of place in Dr Frankenstein’s laboratory. And of course the stalls are alternatively manned by nice people who you want to hug and smug people you want to strike with a copper bottomed smirching pan (whatever the hell that is). That’s the issue. It’s just cooking food. But no these folk have elevated it to some permanent game of bizarre food one-upmanship. The oil has to be trammelled or the pan should be crindled. It’s like a whole new language. And of course just like lawyers much of it is designed to part you from your cash.

I saw a bread stall with loaves of bread starting at £10.00. It said stone baked in an ancient bronze age bread oven. To a sixteenth century recipe. What the hell was in it? Platinum flour? The Magna Carta? But if you recall one of my distant columns where I referred to London tribes – I’ve discovered a sub species. The Speciality Food groups. And the Foodie groups have sub species. The Vegetarian bunch where all the women dress in that washed out knackered looking Laura Ashley stuff – always have four small blonde children (the husband always has those faux National Health specs) and everything’s about soya and spelt. The Sunday Supplement bunch – a very different kettle of fish – decidedly jeans and blazers for the men – the women all Zara meets Chanel. And they’re drooling over smoke dried andeluvian reindeer buttocks and guarana leaved wrapped organic pork chops. God bless them‘ They can waste hours knocking up a meal that bears little resemblance to food. But it’s all about textures darling. Hm. I asked for a ham sandwich at one stall and the guy asked me how did I like my ham cut – against the grain or southerly. I said in slices. He almost started crying. Especially when I asked for white bread and Kerry Gold butter.
Had a great moany email about The Tower of London! I could have told them it’s a pointless tourist rip off at £20.00 per head.

For some stupid ‘let’s favour the regions’ type of reasons – the authorities hiked most of the contents up to Leeds years ago. Seriously. The place has got bugger all in it now. You’ve got the Crown Jewels (five minutes of oh look some diamond hats), some ravens (two minutes of aren’t they just crows on steroids?) and those blokes in Red uniforms (Why do they all look slightly drunk?) Oh yes and lots of stone walls (thirty minutes of look how old this wall is). Not exactly a fun packed day for the poor wee mites and their folk you have to admit. They’ve even got signs around the place saying things like ‘here in this room were suits of handmade silver armour’. No armour mind – just a sign. Priceless. But on that subject the tourists are really filling up the place. Just look at the Open top Tour buses. Absolutely full to bursting. And is it me but do none of these companies have uniforms that fit their staff? Just take a look. Half of them seem to be wearing jackets designed for somebody three sizes bigger – or their hats appear to have been glued to their heads as they seem to be play hats for five year old children. If smartness is their aim they’re failing badly. It looks more like each morning the tour bus staff are tossed into a large skip and just pick anything they can find with a company logo on – regardless of size.

My particular favourite London tourist mystery – is the hundreds of grim faced eastern European girls now employed at key historical points to totally confuse the visitor to London. You come for a slice of merry old England and you get some stone faced harpy with no sense of humour who says things like “Zis iss ze very place ze Kink roded his horses. Velcome to ze majesty of zis castle”. Call me old fashioned but shouldn’t they at least get some training? And I mean voice training. Imagine going to see the Great Wall of China and some buffoon pipes up saying “Yeah alright innit dis wall is well speshul. Big old Emperors and all dat stuff you get me”. I guess I’m just too picky. And yes I know they work cheap.

So summer is here(ish) And apart from the usual tube strikes and road closures we have to contend with all the public parks being turned into private event venues. Take Holland Park – it is now a series of semi – permanent Marquees erected for various do’s. I’m told they need the revenue. But the key word overlooked seems to be public parks. Ho hum. But Londoners love their parks public parks. Mainly all the flat dwellers without a garden. And of course that other group. The sun worshippers who whip off most of their clothes at the merest twinkle of sunlight. Nip down to Hyde Park by Bayswater for a real culture clash regarding sunbathing. On the one hand you have the countless young roller-blading girls and boys and fitness freaks in skimpy lycra shorts and no tops worth talking about zapping around the place in the blazing heat and the large groups of burka clad women with huge shades silently sitting on every bench watching them. Weird. But is anyone upset? Is anyone shaken by any of this? No. Of course not. It’s a London thing.

Londoner's Diary 13 – by Phil Ryan

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Yes, it’s coming up to the great invasion now. Londoners are bracing themselves for the Tourists. We had the Royal Wedding rush, but now June is coming and so is the world.

I generally avoid the centre of town over the next months (I stay out on the leafier fringes). But a very good place to take the pulse of tourism is in our London street markets. Camden in the north and Portobello in the west have now gradually been reduced to a very long shuffle that takes hours to complete. It looks like a scene out of that penguin documentary film – but without the cute voiceover. Great for the stallholders, mind, but not so much fun for the visitors. And to add to that disappointment is the now almost generic nature of much of the goods for sale.

They’re not very London. In fact they seem to be mainly Chinese and Indian in manufacture. Seems weird to me. You fly in from Spain and go home with a Japanese rubber watch, some Indian scarves, some Chinese jewellery and when people ask where you’ve been, you say London! That said, we do have some great young fashion designers in many of the markets, like Spitalfields in the east, who do sell extraordinarily brilliant and authentic London designs. So it’s not all bad.

I particularly like the visitors who buy those tall Union Jack hats with bells on. Come to London, city of great fashion and style. What do you choose – a felt hat that makes you look like a twat! Classic. I think they just get confused by all the choice. But at least they can lose their money gradually in the markets. The attractions are now charging crazy prices. The London Eye, Madame Tussaud’s, The Tower of London, London Zoo. They’re all close to £20 entry. Last time I was at the zoo, I took a monkey and a meerkat home. Well, I wanted my money’s worth.

Frankly, I’m amazed the tourists still come. London is now one of the most expensive cities to visit. And our beloved Mayor is now pointing out that the tourists are all using his Boris bikes. Hardly surprising, they’re all strapped for cash. An oyster card would probably finish them off financially. They’d probably root in the bins except the locals have probably got there first.

And if tourists aren’t baffled and broke enough, it’s charity running/walking/crawling season here in London with a vengeance. You can’t go near a park or open space without finding scores of grinning sweaty folk dressed as nuns or in pink, blue or green, covered in balloons and sprinting at you waving plastic buckets. It’s all very laudable but annoying. I give to charity in my own way. But it’s like a load of highwaymen without any style have been let loose. Every underground station now seems to have a bucket waver in residence and my local high street has posted at least three a day along its length.

It’s like some surreal computer game. You devise strategies. Maximum points. Cross over. Lift your paper and become invisible. Glare wildly. Mutter ‘no thanks’. Get someone in front of you to block them from seeing you. Pretend to answer your phone. Avoid eye contact. Look at the floor. I’m exhausted after a day out!

I’m all for charity, but not when it walks up to you and demands money with cheery menaces. I’d like a central fund I could pay a tenner into once a month. Then all the charities have to fight it out with pillows in a giant mud-filled arena which you have to pay to go into to watch. Brilliant eh? Money and entertainment. Maybe it’ll catch on.

But London is getting crowded with visitors and the tubes are getting to be even more of a nightmare. I love the recent saga of breakdowns and then the accompanying explanations. A bolt fell off and jammed a door open. Signals wouldn’t talk to each other. My favourite: an animal of some kind loose in a tunnel. An animal? What? Bigfoot?

However, I witnessed a pure London moment last week. I was at Finchley Road waiting for a Jubilee line train. On the platform behind him I heard a Metropolitan line train approach. The station announcement proudly said: “Ladies and Gentlemen. The train now arriving on platform three is one of the brand new Metropolitan line trains now in service.” So I turned around and a new shiny and gleaming train pulled in. It was really brand new. Bright paint job. Clear glass in its windows. Modern. Inviting. It looked very nice. Inside there was about 50 happy people, all looking very pleased to be on such a nice shiny and clean train for a change. Some of them stood up to get off.

Meanwhile, people on the platform all looked pretty pleased to see such a nice-looking carriage. You could see it was pretty cool. At last. New trains. Comfortable, wide, air conditioned, a pleasure to travel in. But the doors wouldn’t actually open. So it sat there while various TFL folk appeared and poked it for a bit and then it pulled out. Bizarre. Hapless travellers inside banging on the windows and shouting rude words. Resigned travellers on the platform letting their shoulders drop. It had been a cruel trick. The next train arrived. Old, crammed, dirty but with working doors! Reality restored. When I later got out at Bond Street I asked a TFL bloke about it and he said: “Yeah, the doors are so new they’re sticky and they don’t really open. Give it a year or two and they’ll be fine.” Priceless.

So there you have it. We’re being crowded out with tourists. Prices for attractions are at mortgage levels. The tube doors don’t open. And the streets are full of charity muggers. But do we care? No. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 12 By Phil Ryan

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Londoners Life 12 – by Phil Ryan

Sunshine. At last. And another London phenomenon is with us. The lovely weather in London always brings out the open top sports cars. And I mean the crazy and ludicrous supercars of Top Gear fame. And to me many of the more overpriced models are slightly baffling given the actual legal and realistic speed of traffic in London. Take the Edgeware Road as a classic example. Seemingly endless rows of Ferraris and Lamborghinis have now instantly appeared driven by various 20 something’s who actually look about 12 (possibly family money or just a generous paper round?) But wait for it they are now out and driving about. At around 10 miles per hour. What’s the point? Why drive a 200 mile per hour supercar in London at 10 miles per hour? The other night my friends and I were sitting outside a restaurant in Camden in a small side street. Suddenly the building virtually shook. And there we saw a bright red open top Ferrari crawling along at the top of the road. It noisily scraped agonisingly over the road humps only to speed past us with a sonic boom of engine roar followed by a brake squeal as it reached the next road hump twenty feet up the road. Very London. It was both awful but fascinating to watch. One of my colleagues commented that it would be great fun when they finally reached the motorway and they could really drive. And I replied yes at a heady 70 miles per hour just like everyone else! Hm not sure about the point of them, but I suppose they are keeping our petrol stations open. I figured that the Camden Ferrari was achieving a respectable ten miles to the gallon – which meant they’d clearly figured out their route carefully based on where the next petrol station was presumably. Wild eh?

And talking of wildlife and pests. The urban foxes are now out in force in London I see but mainly hear sadly. All the local bins get ripped open regularly now and I’m hearing weird squealing noises in the middle of the night. Although I have got some newly married Italian neighbours so I guess it could be them? Recently I saw one on the roof of a Kebab shop in Holloway as I drove past! (not my Italian neighbours a fox) Clearly they really will eat anything. And they really are quite fearless now as I see them sitting next to cars waiting for them to drive off. And now the arguments begin. Are they pests or are they lovely wildlife? Tricky one this. I’m all for nature but I’m starting to come down on the pest side. I’ll admit they do look cute but they’re a bit nasty to cats and rabbits. Plus in my street they regularly rip open bins and drag rubbish everywhere (just like the bin men but without the hi vis vests) I think Walt Disney has a lot to answer for here. Foxes are not cute! They carry diseases and crap everywhere (again a bit like the local bin men but I digress) And talking of Disney it’s the holiday hordes arrival time. Disney Breaks, Legoland all the commercial days out are putting what I call Recession offers out there. But London seems resolutely overpriced for families. The ticket costs at Madame Tussauds, The London Eye and The Tower of London all seem more like attempts to buy them! Upwards of a hundred and thirty pounds per family for half a day out. Whoah. I thought the recession was bringing prices down. But the tourists seem to be coping. Visit London seem to be saying numbers are up this year. There’s lots to do for free now the sunshine is out I’ll freely admit though.

And currently one of my favourite but potentially free terrible London phenomena is now springing up everywhere. Of course I mean the roving street musicians. If you eat out in St Christopher’s place nowadays roving bands of accordionists are suddenly smilingly but subtly now regularly harassing the diners. They have the look of banditry about them – I don’t know why. I think it’s the slicked back hair and leather bomber jackets they all seem to wear plus that cartoon blue stubble. They travel in packs of four (like condoms but less welcome) and seem to target any couple crazy enough to hold hands in front of them. I saw one couple the other day get treated to a surreal version of Pyscho Killer! And to my amazement this was followed up with a jaunty but off key version of Elvis Presley’s Wooden Heart complete with incorrect lyrics screamed by a small sweaty fat man who looked constipated. But the couple cracked and I saw a few pounds tumble into the outstretched hat as they nervously smiled at the crooks. Don’t get me wrong I love outside music as it can really lift you up.

I pause however to point out the odd case of the elderly blind guy who plays the violin who has now taken up his usual spot outside Debenhams in Oxford Street. He’s been there for years. He’s like one of those traditional figures on those clocks. He appears as soon as the sunshine appears. But he’s terrible. You would have thought given the years he’s been at it he could at least knock out a recognisable tune but no he can’t. Instead he saws away at the violin making it sound like its being assaulted with a cat on crystal meth. Hm. I’m trying to work out the braille for get some lessons so I can stick a note in his hand but I suppose that’s just me being mean and uncharitable. I always drop some change in his hat honestly. And I’ve recently added the word DEAF to his sign saying he’s blind (well he can’t see it can he) I figure it will help his PR profile.

However my favourite player is this dread locked saxophone player in Leicester Square. He always plays late at night. And I always drop money into his case. He’s like a very cool personal soundtrack. Gorgeous notes soaring about you as you make your way home. It’s like being in a movie. And you are the main character!

So the sunshine is here to stay for the time being and London instantly adapts to it as always. We move outside to eat and drink. And despite the stupid cars, the foxes, the tourists, the burger guys and the summer drunks and now the X factor like invasion of our public spaces – do we mind it all (plus the awful versions of Oasis and The Killers we are now being hit with on a daily basis) Of course not. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 11 by Phil Ryan

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Well the riots are over, the streets are full of tourists and London is getting back to Spring. And if there’s one thing that the London spring brings onto the streets it’s the Lycra brigade. Suddenly there’s someone looking like a Nike ad pounding along every pavement. My favourite recent sight being of two yummy mummies jogging along in Kensington pushing those ludicrously large buggies that look like they’ve been designed to withstand a bomb blast. But not only were they running in their designer sports outfits and chatting as they pushed their future investment banker along they had a Nanny in full running gear engaging with the little darlings. Poor thing looked a little like a dunkin donuts lover so was puffing and red faced as she staggered along. The children seemed delighted at the entertainment. Squeaking happily now and again. Both whippet thin, tanned women would yell encouraging things to her such as “do keep up Svetlana” and “No gain without pain darling”. I couldn’t quite see the point as both of them were smoking as they ran and one had a little Patisserie Valerie bag swinging from her buggy. Presumably not for wobbly Svetlana who really needed some kind of drugs or medical assistance. But the fitness bug hangs heavy on the breeze. It’s apparently time for Londoners to shed those winter pounds and don your trusty arm mounted ipod. Then hit the latest JD sports sale (sales still running continuously since 1668 – see Samuel Pepys Diary “Wednesday April fecond 1669 – Up at mid morning to the fplendid fprts fale at Master JD’s in the Ftrand- purchased fome kick ass trainers and a Flazenger trackfuit. Returned to my desk by afternoon to write. Wish I had a laptop) There’s no doubt running about is in – as coming hot on their heels is – wait for it – fun run marathon season. Support Endangered Lemurs in Putney etc – Never have two words been so mismatched. Fun and run. I should point out that I see these people mainly as I’m sat in the various cafes I frequent. I like to wave an éclair at them for encouragement. I exercise at home regularly and keep my tai chi routines going. It works for me plus I’ve never been a fan of sweating heavily in public or getting a rash in front of complete strangers.

But if you like sweating in public the new fitness programme from TFL kicks in with a vengeance this month. By cleverly closing Tottenham Court Road for 8 months and now regularly shutting down various lines at random every weekend they’re really getting Londoners out onto the streets walking. It’s a shame they have paid for tickets which they can’t use – but hey look at the health benefits. But it’s all necessary as the new Crossrail works are forging ahead. It could be just me. But as far as I can see we have to put up with a rubbish transport system where the prices go up year on year until 2018 or something. And then presumably the tickets will be so expensive no-one will be able to afford the eye watering prices to ride on the shiny new trains and lines to everywhere you’ve ever heard of in London. Crossrail. I’m just cross.

And talking of TFL and weight loss that brings me to our porcine Mayor. Soon we’ll get to see those Boris bike figures apparently. Turns out that as I said that the idea that it wouldn’t cost us a penny is half right. It hasn’t cost Londoners a penny to implement the bike scheme. It’s closer to 11 million pounds. As I said I kind of like the idea but I just don’t want to pay for it. Well certainly not if I never use it. So currently most of us are forking out for tourists to wobble dangerously around the streets. See London and get crushed by a lorry. Catchy tourist tagline huh? Finally whilst I’m in my fitness mode I notice that lots of gyms seem to be closing down – pour quoi? Maybe people are cutting back although presumably starvation will assist many in their desire to lose weight. The new recession diet.

So finally spring is with us. Which also heralds the tourist invasion. It’s started already. I was at Kew Gardens last weekend as coach loads of baffled Italians were being herded through the turnstiles. They seemed bemused. I heard one ask the tour guide “Is a big park no? Where are the rides?” Clearly they hadn’t quite given him the whole description. So look out for every museum and art gallery to be rammed every weekend. Forget about using the nearby cafes as they’ll be full too. The invasion has started and because the pound is so weak it’s going to be a big one this year. But do we mind sharing our space with the world. Do we mind our shops filling up with arm waving women? And do we mind our parks becoming al fresco dining rooms for every nation. No. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 10 – By Phil Ryan

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Londoners Life 10 – by Phil Ryan

We often hear of problems in London with parking. The main gripe of drivers being that Councils are now just using high parking charges as a revenue generator. And it is clearly true despite the Councils mealy mouthed explanations. My favourite being that it stops commuters driving to Tube stations and clogging the local roads (this slightly shot down by the fact that parking restrictions are on every single street in every single borough now miles from any tube stations) I tell people you can drive in London you just can’t actually stop anywhere!

And if ever proof were needed recently that champion of fairness and kindness Baby Shrek look alike Brian Coleman the Leader of the Council in Barnet even laughingly said he felt they were never knowingly underpriced. This as he announced they were doubling parking charges for residents in his borough and it was just tough! But this time the residents are taking Barnet Council to court saying it’s unfair. Good luck to them. As a London driver I’m used to being abused and lied to – so it’s nice to see some Londoners fighting back. Of course they’ll lose. It’s the London way. The fix is in. But hey if it makes one idiot local councillor pause for thought it’s got to be worth it.
London sadly has a history of shooting fish (ie all London taxpayers) and in a barrel in this way. In other words once they realise they have a monopoly and there is nothing Londoners can do they rip us off. Higher prices for nothing in return. TFL are a great example of this. Prices go up and up on the Underground and then incredibly the service just gets worse and worse! And travelling conditions are really horrible lately. Squeezing people in like a game of Twister on amphetamines. The tube is getting more and more like one of those Japanese game shows without a prize at the end. And Londoners grimly put up with it. Why? No alternative. Monopoly. The Oyster card now a badge of endurance.

And whilst on Transport issues I notice the Boris Bikes are suddenly coming in for scrutiny. The scheme apparently costing the taxpayer some mad sum of money anytime someone makes a journey. Why is it so expensive you ask? Because of the company behind it and the mug contract signed by TFL and the Mayor. It’s funny how London politicians vanity projects seem to get pushed through despite apparent layers of ‘scrutiny’. Green is always good is the mantra. No matter how ineffective or expensive. After they added up the costs it turns out that the bikes would be cheaper to the public purse if they are just left in the racks and the riders are carried around by slaves in those sedan chairs. And as for the cycle highways ie blue lines painted on the road. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!
Please don’t get me wrong. I do love the idea of a bike scheme. But not the ludicrous costs. But I must calm down. The sun is out – the Royal parks are still free and looking glorious and the hints of spring in London are everywhere. Daffodils on roundabouts etc.
Fashion Week is over and new spring looks are appearing but the biggest sign is the re-appearance of the outside table.

Londoners can’t resist them. That Parisian air of lolling about watching the world pass by. Admittedly you also get large Buses and Lorries as well. So you can choke on your cappuccino as you ogle the passing public. I don’t get it. Who wants to sit on a pavement? Pollution falling over you as you sip your overpriced beverage.

But hey it’s that cool al fresco London experience. Despite it being five degrees, everywhere I go hardy souls are out with their new shades and iphones blabbing away. And it could just be me but where are all these tiny dogs coming from? They are everywhere. It seems de rigueur now for designer shaded girls and boys to currently accessorize with an animal that looks like an angry rat in a fur wrap. These sharp toothed little rodent dogs perch quiveringly under their owners chairs snapping at anyone who passes by. I’m still trying to work out their function. They’re skin and bone so they score low on the cuddle factor. They can’t do tricks as they’d break. I guess they could be a good defence animal as they can easily be hurled at a mugger. The element of surprise of being hit at fifty miles an hour by a small snarling rodent a great deterrent. (Kidding) Or are they just loyal companions? The jury is still out I think.

But spring is evident in the air. It’s charity time. All the great and the good are filling our airtime with their appeals. Exhorting us to open our wallets. It’s all in a good cause. Red nose this. Flowers for that. Without people dressed as clowns outside Waterloo rattling buckets it seems as if London would cease to function. But Londoners are generous. So when they’re outside in artic conditions sitting at their table drinking a cappuccino with an angry demented rat on a string what happens? Some person dressed as a giant Yellow Cat strides up demanding money for underprivileged trees. Does it bother them? Does it faze them? No. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 9 by Phil Ryan

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Of all the London phenomenon I’ve chronicled recently, there is one that has been gathering pace. It’s called Business Change.

I’m suddenly more aware of the breathtaking and surprising speed that familiar haunts, restaurants and bars seem to be going out of business, closing down and then getting replaced by a new business. I only note it down now after a recent few trips into town that left me sad at the disappearance of quite a few of my regular haunts and drop in places. Cafes, book shops, restaurants and music equipment places all suddenly biting the dust. You head to an old familiar café hoping to get egg and chips and suddenly it’s a trendy new Japanese hairdressers decorated in black and silver with bright cartoon characters on the windows offering wakami face tugging and Nintendo hair stress with kodo roots and sea turtle mud. All very disconcerting.

I know it’s a recession year unfolding, but it’s very London in the way that there seems to have suddenly been a speedy pick up in the opening and closing rates of so many once great places. It’s as if the capital is sensing blood in the water. The old and sick are culled (sadly often by the chain groups) and the whole place seems to be getting blander and less original by comparison.

We all know that London constantly changes – just look at the sprawling developments in regeneration areas. Even bits of the new Stratford are starting to look quite pleasant. Actually, scratch that. It’s still a dump, but now with an inappropriate huge shopping centre and bits of Olympic nonsense being stuck around the place.But it’s funny how a couple of converted factories or hospitals reborn as apartments seems to immediately change the tone in an area – even if it’s only very surface to start with. Hackney and Battersea has enclaves and pockets of said new conversions but are both still struggling. So-called luxury developments can only achieve so much. The muggers just seem better read – now quoting Monica Ali and The Secret as they rob your wallet.

But the onward rush of change and the trend to new designer living has a lot to answer for. One of my prime examples is Paddington Basin. Now changed – from an admittedly smelly canal side dump – but changed to a monolithic mixed office and apartment, antiseptic, dystopian, concrete wasteland -replete with confusing enormous steel statues and various bits of naff looking public ‘heritage’ art.

As you enter, you find great grey pebble-dashed wind tunnels threading through various soulless glass and steel monoliths that abound the place, all giving it the charming air of a car park designed by Philip Starck, The Mad Hatter and Mr Angry. And the entire place is complete with faux cobbles and café canal side living (ie chain outlets sticking tables outside). Sadly, the whole place has slightly less atmosphere than Jupiter. You can see baffled canal side walkers leave little leafy and cute Little Venice and then turn up in what appears to be an architect’s giant scale model of dullness and concrete. “It’s all neat and clean and functional,” they tell me. But then so are abattoirs,  which it sort of gives the half air of being modelled on – only without the welcome death at the end after spending any time there. But that’s London. Changeville.

And if you needed more proof of changes, look no further than the past few year’s restaurant trends. Scores of Thai, Vietnamese, Mongol Grills and Pan Asian buffet places appearing and disappearing within a two-year period. Now it’s the Lebanese wave I’m noticing. They’re popping up everywhere. Nice, but generally overpriced. And often with the hookah pipes outside, gently wafting aromatic smoke down the street. And snapping at their heels, those very cool-looking Japanese places. All Zen and noodles with raw everything (just saving on the gas bill I’m guessing. Personally, I like my food cooked).

But don’t panic. There are still places that show no sign of seemingly changing one iota. South Kensington and its environs is a case in point. I had the dubious pleasure of being taken to a basement restaurant down that way last week. The prices? Unfeasibly high. The place? Packed to the rafters with an orderly line patiently waiting by the till area when we arrived. The noise levels? Slightly above that of runway one at Heathrow. And the food? Italian pizzas mainly – but disguised as high fashion cuisine. And then that bizarre welcome. Table for six? Yes, of course, but you’ll have to leave at 10.00 sharp (it was 8.00). The people with me seemed unsurprised. Didn’t they mind?, I asked. “No,” they chorused. “It’s a London thing.”

Londoners Life 8 by Phil Ryan.

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Londoners Life 8 – by Phil Ryan

Well, in London, Christmas and the New Year are truly over now. It’s the end to that weird kind of period of semi-social vacuum. Londoners generally indulge in the early sales tradition (strikes permitting) and catching up with all the less important friends on their list. It’s a brief respite that many enjoy. But now we’re all back with a vengeance – coping with the new EVERYTHING IS GOING UP mantra that the London authorities are now teaching us to swallow.

From Oyster Cards to restaurants, the price of everything is on the increase. But the London way is to shrug and just carry on as usual. I watched people on the London News just rolling their eyes at the various reporters’ daft questions. As if to say: “Huh? This is London – plus we have no choice. Asking us how we feel is a pointless exercise. We don’t have time to feel! We’re Londoners. Busy busy.”

So what are my London predictions for this year?

Well, house prices don’t seem to be heading down, no matter what the market does. So expect the rental market prices to keep heading skywards. And the price for first-time flat buyers to remain tantalisingly out of reach – unless you’re 12 and from Qatar or Russia – in which case you’ll buy the building from your pocket money. Plus you’ll sadly notice an explosion of posher estate agents appearing in your area. Luxury properties will remain immune to the price issues and continue to rise. You’ll see the expansion of trendy middle class folk fleeing to Lidl and Aldi (as seen in all the fashion mags where various ladies enthuse about their products) and you’ll see lots more branches of said lower cost German brands appearing.

I visited a friend the other day and they were enthusing about their tins of low cost and catchily named schweinekartoffelaffensuppe from those lovely well-known folk at Krauten Valley Fabrik GMBH and some huge packets of weird looking cakes called Kuchenzuckertortestrassezitrone from Panzer Backerie 17. The kids love them apparently, but are now all diabetic.

You can expect a lot more London local high streets to empty of smaller shops and fill with shuttered fronts as the huge shop opening programme of Tesco and Sainsbury continue to suck the life from them. In my own area, we have two mini Tesco’s about eight minutes from each other, now to be joined in a month’s time by a Sainsbury’s sandwiched in between them. Convenient, yes. I suppose. Food quality, sadly crap!

So, expect more small shops to bite the dust in droves, aided by the ever-increasing ramping up of parking revenues from London Councils now sending ever growing hordes of Parking Attendants, or whatever new name they’re calling them, out onto the streets scaring customers away. Check out the new parking times arriving near you soon. In many areas, meters will soon run from 8.30am until midnight. As I say – you can drive where you like in London – you just can’t stop. Well, not without giving up your life savings anyway. Which means more local small shops will vanish thanks to the Council’s greed.

Unsurprisingly, because of the economic factors you’re going to see a lot more churchgoers this year. Especially among the young and fashionable. It’s a trend that’s expanding. Cool churches with bands and singers. More of an open mic night with Jesus. So Sundays are going to get busier in your area. But the crowds will all turn the other cheek which is nice.

Apart from that the Olympic juggernaut will roll on – relentless ads of people telling us how fantastic it’s going to be interspersed with the truth about ludicrous and impossible ticket prices, private roads for Olympic fat cats and the fact that the Government will be flogging all the buildings and venues to Overseas companies at knockdown bargain prices when the whole ghastly thing is over.

And expect the Underground to get worse if that’s possible. Regular upgrade closures and strikes will really be the order of the day. Hmm. That’s about it. Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Expect the West End to overflow with even more film to musical adaptations this year. I see ‘Shrek the Musical’ is on its way (good God!).  I was looking forward to ‘Saw IV the Musical’ myself but apparently it’s not been written.

So predictions over. Something I’m noticing is that real theatre is now virtually on its knees in London. It’s only kept alive by smaller groups and brave theatre collectives thankfully, but the big boys seem to have thrown in the towel generally. Three new plays came into the West End last year. Wowee! (we should take Kevin Spacey’s passport away to stop him leaving – he’s almost singlehandedly propping up real theatre – give him a knighthood or something I say)

Finally, while I’m on the subject of entertainment, this is the year of relaunches of various new London Clubs,  including the Blitz Club and possibly some new remakes of closed venues. But it will be interesting to see if the money and the appetite is there to support such ventures.

The London appetite for nostalgia shows no signs of abating as I also notice lots more old fashioned Tea Rooms opening up. Proper ones too, I’m pleased to report. Not the organic designer kind. Real cakes. Normal teas.

So that’s it. Predictions REALLY over. Doom and gloom with glimmers of hope here and there. But will any of this stop us having a good time? No. Not in the least. It’s a London thing.

Londoners Life 7 by Phil Ryan

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The recent London attitude to bad weather has been weary fortitude. Usually it’s rain. But more recently add to this mix – Tube strikes. Tube breakdowns. Train breakdowns. Student protests. Council cutting back on bad weather provision. Freezing cold. And then to cap it all. Snow. Look at the London news and it’s a repeat of every other year. Fed up people complaining. The train company did this. Or more accurately didn’t do anything. Nothing works. Where’s the grit? It’s part of the London cycle.

We just repeat the same problems. My more surreal moments in the inclement weather being watching an elderly man on skis in Hampstead High Street. Calmly floating down the pavement he looked very determined. And so did the small dog he was using to pull him along. A spaniel. But my favourite being a miserable looking bus driver repeating in a monotone “Snow off your shoes please” to every passenger. This elucidating a frenzied procession of semi Flamenco moves from a bunch of cold people who just wanted to get on and sit down. It looked like a street dance off with shopping and elderly people.

But it’s Christmas now. The race begins. Buy. Buy. Buy. And all the local papers go into charity mode. Good causes. Smiling old age pensioners in hats. Cheery looking homeless people grinning over a bowl of soup. It’s so very Victorian. And so very London. The TV is straight on it. Out come all the Dickens analogies. It’s as if the presenters can’t help themselves. “And here’s a real old curiosity”” It’s a bleak house tonight” and one that made me choke during a report on a local council closing a toddlers club “The spirit of Christmas present lost in a scoogelicious committee decision” Scroogelicious! And then comes that unique London traditional phenomenon the absurd pre Christmas sales in the posher shops. Items such as a Swarowski encrusted hot water bottle or a platinum apple phone. Slashed from mind numbing prices to surprisingly staggeringly high prices. Who is buying this stuff? I thought there was a recession on? But the London Christmas rolls on. It’s party season. You can tell by the tents set up in Leicester Square to deal with the incoherent drunks paralytically spreading the yuletide cheer. I think we should wait until they’re completely unconscious and then stick them in air freight containers so they wake up in say Bolivia or Morocco. Watch the drinking statistics drop away!

But food and drink feature large in a London Christmas. The major restaurants falling over themselves to do deals. The Evening Standard is full of coupons suddenly. Who cuts them out? It must be very difficult to go on a date with someone who surreptitiously starts sliding coupons under their credit card come bill time. Not really giving the right impression. Hi I’m sexy but very cheap. But the 2 for one offers often come with a sting in the tail. The good stuff never seems to be included. And then when you do stray from the deal it sends the price into the stratosphere. But that is the London way. Just like the Traditional German markets that suddenly seem to be appearing everywhere. Londoners just accept the fact that a load of fake alpen huts will start springing up on every corner. Bratwurst. Hot wine. Weird looking ginger bread. All to the accompaniment of brass band music. They have a thing called Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park with a huge German fair. And it’s a mixture of baffled looking Japanese tourists uncertainly smiling unsure whether they were tricked over the war and hardy Londoners braced against the cold munching on surreal looking sausages in rye bread that has the consistency of an elderly carpet tile (and a similar taste I might add) all secretly longing for a bacon sandwich. But it’s Christmas in London which means anything goes. Apart from Christianity. This is a no no with most London councils. I saw an article with some Council leader who seemed confused at the concept. He thought it was an economic opportunity with a holiday attached. The Christ and religious bit clearly passing him by. Hence that horrendous Winter Festival concept put about by the more moronic ones. Even though they all get the cast of East Enders in to turn on the Christmas lights. Huh? But they’ve figured out that upsetting Christians is easy – they’ll just turn the other cheek. The most radical things some local Christians round here did was to sing a load of Carols outside the Town Hall. How vicious was that? God bless them. Or as my local council would put it. Winter bless them.

Oh yes just a quick update on my human signs. They’ve now got them dressed as furry animals. Quasi Disney Characters. With holly and tinsel stuck all over them! They still have Golf Sale and Cheap Computers written all over them but it’s nice for the children. And very confusing. Goofy clearly reduced to sidelining in cheap Golf equipment since his falling out with Mickey they must suppose. Anyway finally after the shopping then comes the final Christmas ritual. The big get away. In London we head for the airports and the streets fall silent. It’s a very odd time. The usual rush and whizzing around replaced albeit temporarily with a brief period of tranquillity. I tend to stay to enjoy the peace and once everyone else comes back then I leave. The prospects for the New Year a bit uncertain this time. The austerity year I heard it called. I chatted to some people in a café the other day and asked them their fears and thoughts about the coming year and all the cuts. I listed all the things that were going to be closed and cancelled. They all shrugged. So what they said. And ordered another latte and biscotti. Denial. No. It’s a London thing.

Well that’s it for this year! Merry Christmas to you all. And here’s crossing my fingers for 2011. So whoever they may be – may your God or non belief go with you.

Regards Phil