Gospel Oak to Barking: The Cinderella Line

From my Blog for the Tottenham & Wood Green Journal.

I’m a big railway fan, but I had lived in South Tottenham for 10 years before I travelled on what is usually called the Goblin Line. I didn’t think it went to anywhere useful, to be honest. Well, I was wrong!  It is, in fact, very useful and growing numbers of passengers have, like me, discovered this. And here we have the problem. During rush hour, the tiny two-car trains are seriously over-crowded. People often cannot get on the train at all. So they wait 15 minutes until the next train, only to find that’s full too. Surely there must be an easy solution to this? More trains? Longer trains? Sadly, it’s not as easy as that.

A little background information:  Wikipedia tells me that the line came into being in the 19^th century. It was formed from the Tottenham & Forest Gate Railway and the Tottenham & Hampstead Junction Railway. It pootled on over the years as a sleepy and under-used suburban line. It managed to avoid the Beeching cuts of the 1960’s. It became part of the North London Railway and then Silverlink.

Then, thanks to Ken and Boris, came Transport for London and the Overground. Smarter stations, more staff and trains every 15 minutes. And we realised that it’s a really useful little railway. From South Tottenham, you can be walking on Hampstead Heath in 14 minutes. With one change you can get to Southend, Richmond, Clapham Junction, Olympia & Shepherd’s Bush. It’s great for commuting too. The Goblin line, almost overnight, became very popular.  And very crowded.

So, what can be done? Well, sadly, there’s not really much capacity for more trains. The Goblin line is not only popular with passengers. Goods trains like it too.  It’s a jolly useful link as a sort of M25; carrying stuff around London and off to the rest of the country. So it’s pretty much full. Not to mention that people in Walthamstow have been complaining about bits dropping off their houses due to vibrations caused by heavy goods trains.

Here’s an odd thing. The Goblin Line is one of very few lines in London that is not an electric railway. You have to use smelly old diesel power. Now, everyone – Transport for London, the Department for Transport, Network Rail, the Goods Companies – thinks that electrifying the line is a Good Idea. But nobody wants to pay for it. There’s been lots of finger-pointing and questions have even been asked in the house, but no money has been forthcoming. They can’t even agree on what it will cost, for goodness sake! The DfT say £90m. Network Rail says £50m. Some bloke in Modern Railways magazine even reckoned he could get it done for £9m!

So, could we at least have longer diesel trains? Well, according to the Barking-Gospel Oak Line User Group, not really.  Even if you could buy them quickly – off the shelf, as it were – they would be expensive and, given new regulations, might not pass emissions tests.

Oh, and whatever powers the trains, if they are longer they won’t fit the platforms. So someone has to pay to lengthen the stations. Any offers? No, thought not.

And then Transport for London issue a press release. This says that they intend to increase ALL Overground line trains to FIVE carriages. Hurray! Problem solved! Good old Boris!

Er, no. Sorry. Bit of a mess-up in the press office. All lines except the Goblin. Obviously.

So there it is. A big, bureaucratic stalemate. Answers on a postcard, please.

It’s still a great little line, though.  It trundles along at a stately 30mph.  The trains are clean and comfortable – outside of rush hour.  It’s well staffed with friendly people. From South Tottenham you can visit the funky Brazilian Cafe in the old station booking office. Or amble over to Markfield Park to visit the Steam Engine and the excellent Cafe. From Harringay Green Lanes, you’re only a step away from Sainsbury’s and the nearby pubs and vibrant Cypriot restaurants.  It’s not far from the marvellous, re-located Harringay Market either. Crouch Hill is technically 50 metres outside the borough, but it’s still an easy stroll down to the delights of Crouch End.

For more on the Goblin Line, visit the excellent Barking-Gospel Oak Line User Group website. http://www.barking-gospeloak.org.uk/ If anyone can sort out this wretched mess, they can.

Where there’s a will there’s a way...

Footsteps to the Moon: The Argument.

I wrote this for the programme notes when Paul Prescott & I put the show on at the White Bear in Kennington. I stand by every word...

Footsteps to the Moon.

“And the towers were tallest in Bastion. But that didn’t help us at all.

For the towers were tallest in Bastion, and those towers, and those towers

Were a long way to fall.”

Sounds like a non-too-subtle reference to 9/11, doesn’t it? But actually, Paul Prescott wrote those lines in 1988.

The story of the fall of the once great city of Bastion is alive with reverberations of the past. And, in this case, the future.

Paul wanted to look at how war affects the ordinary people. No great tales of battles fought and won. But the story of how those stuck in the middle, the victims of no more than geographical happenstance, watch as their world is taken from them, broken into pieces and handed back.

And what if those people are already outcasts from society? Shunned and locked away before the war was even half over.

Who are the madmen? Those who were locked away for protesting against the war? Those who saw their loved-ones slaughtered and lost their families and their minds in one fell swoop? Those institutionalised and brutalised by an uncaring government? The soldiers perhaps? Conscripted and regimented into killing one another for a mile of wasteland.

Or are the madmen those who start wars like this in the first place?

Footsteps to the Moon considers all this, and more.

It was written, originally, for the Edinburgh Festival and also performed at La Bonne Crepe Café Theatre (LBC) in Battersea, London.

Then it was put on in Sydney, Australia the following year.

Then we left it alone for 15 years.

In 2003, Paul and I were talking about reviving on of the 8 musicals we had written at LBC.

We both knew it would be “Footsteps”.

We looked at the script and decided it should be re-written as a full-scale production. We’d both seen the harrowing pictures from Kosovo and such. Our characters’ story would be on the 6 o’clock news every night.

So when the show finally opens in a larger theatre (and it will.) you will see camera crews and TV screens and announcers. The theatre transformed from a wasteland to the floor of a long-closed nightclub. You will feel the down-draught of the helicopters. See the falling rubble from the shelling.

And yet, in the centre of this, our 8 characters huddle together. Zoom in a little, beyond the flashing lights and deafening noise, and that is what you will see at the White Bear. Ordinary people in an extra-ordinary situation. Love and even laughter. Triumph and betrayal. Redemption – at least for some.

And tears. Many tears.

From the original songs, we kept half a dozen. With 2 new characters and an enlarged script, we soon expanded to 22 songs. There are songs in a variety of styles, reflecting the diversity of the characters. But the major themes occur and re-occur to give cohesiveness to the score.  It is written for full orchestra. And then some.

We put on a rehearsed reading at the White Bear late last year. A bunch of talented actors performed with very little rehearsal of script or songs. The result was astonishing. Most of those actors are now in this production. Just a little bit more rehearsed!

“Footsteps to the Moon”. A story of our time. Or any time. There are no politics in the show. The city of Bastion could be anywhere. And anywhen.

Just as there will always be war, there will always be Lynn remembering her lost love Leon, who disappeared for singing the wrong songs. Otto trying to catch rainwater, or rats.

Delphi, selling sexual favours for the chance of escape. Somewhere Alicia, poor damaged Alicia looks to the moon and salvation in make-believe. Somewhere Gregory, the Travelling Man gathers junk and information and remembers Alicia. Somewhere a soldier weeps for the horrors he has seen and might see again.

And somewhere Cora watches him and imagines a past because she can’t imagine any future.

It’s like taking “Footsteps to the Moon”.

Rod Anderson

February 2005

Ray Harryhausen & Me

As a kid, I was a big fan of dinosaurs. But back in those days, access to the beasts was much more limited. My dad bought me a book and I learnt what they looked like and all the names, but I don't remember much in the way of dino toys or, indeed, films.
Then my Dad took me to see a film called 'Dinosaurus'. It was a dreadful film. The SFX are risible. But I was seven and I loved it. The film also scared the hell out of me and that was cool. too.
A few years later, at my Aunt's house, I saw the original 1933 version of 'King Kong'. The big ape was great, but the dinosaurs were even better. By then I was old enough to understand how the creatures 'moved' in the film. I had discovered stop-motion animation and wanted to know more.
There used to be a magazine called 'Famous Monsters of Filmland' which I often bought. One day as I flicked through the pages I found a drawing by some bloke called Ray Harryhausen. It was a picture of cowboys lassoing cattle in a narrow gorge. And peering around the corner of the gorge was a bloody great Allosaurus!! And his name was Gwangi.
So I learned about Ray Harryhausen, saw all his films and bought and devoured his book; 'Movie Monster Maker'. I was a big fan. And when 'The Valley of Gwangi' finally came out in 1969 it became my firm favourite.
1975. I was at Leeds Poly studying film. For my dissertation I was writing about the history of SFX in the movies. We used to have occasional visiting lecturers on Friday afternoons, and - on a whim - I asked my tutor if we could invite Ray to give a lecture. After all, it would help my dissertation and I was sure he'd be popular.
Adrian York, my tutor, said that if I could find a way to contact Ray, he would invite him.
Now, this being 1975, I hadn't a clue how to find Ray's contact details. I assumed I would have to write lots of letters to the studios, the BFI etc.
Now, it so happened that my fellow students and I were going to London on a field trip. I really can't remember why we went, but we had a bit of spare time before we returned. And I had an idea.
 Ray, though an American, was living in London. There was an old, red telephone box. In that box was a London telephone directory...
Oddly, there was only one listing for 'Harryhausen R.'. I can still remember the address was in Holland Park. I wrote down the phone number and gave it to Adrian on my return.
And Ray, bless him, said yes.
I designed and made the posters, and then worried in case no-one attended the lecture. I shouldn't have been concerned. On the day, the place was packed.
Ray arrived with a big cardboard box and, for the next two hours held us spellbound. He showed lots of clips and, amazingly, pulled a few of the actual models out of the cardboard box.
The lecture ran over quite a bit and, at the end, there was a rush to the bar. I and a few die-hards hung around however, for a chat with the great man. He was delightful. Even after a long lecture, he was happy to answer all our questions. And then...
He took out the models and handed them round. And of course it was only coincidence, but he handed me Gwangi. Less than a foot tall, but one of the biggest moments in my life.
Bless you, Ray. RIP.