Ode to Croydon

The Tenth of March Two Thousand and Sixteen. Thursday.

How did I end up in Croydon?

I mean, it's not the most glamorous part of London. Nobody seems to like it. It's making headlines at the moment as being the home of the 'Croydon Cat Ripper', the person or persons unknown responsible for senseless animal mutilations thereabouts (although subsequent victims have been found in Richmond and Edgeware, the 'Croydon' name seems to have stuck). There was a reward notice asking for information posted when I visited a couple of weeks ago. (Breaking news: during my research I came across an article in the Croydon Guardian about a psychic who knows the killer's identity. Apparently he has short hair and a wide face).

I had a quick look tonight to see if the news had gotten any better. I was promptly gifted with a You Tube clip of a mouse having a day out at the Burger King where I've enjoyed one of my brown breakfasts in the past.

Don't criticize the portrait alignment of this shot. From a documentary point of view I think it's important to establish exactly which menus the mouse is checking out.

Even as I was taking in news of the exciting new trailer for Captain America: Civil War tonight, I was reading tweets about what a let-down Croydon is.

Ha-ha! I have humorously edited that picture so that it looks like Spider-Man is in Croydon! And why not? When they started putting up high-rises in the sixties it was with the ambition of making Croydon a Mini-Manhattan. Nowadays it revels in a different nickname: The Cronx. 

I suppose the fact that the first link on the news page of the Croydon Advertiser is for 'crime' says a lot about what goes down there (and click on that link if you dare. It leads to some peculiar stuff). But until the day I inevitably do get mugged I'm rather fond of the place.

So how did I end up there? A combination of cheap rooms at the Croydon Travelodge and free travel on First Capital Connect services from the centre of London, basically. I can't remember the first time I stayed there, but I've been back many times since. It almost always seems to be the cheapest option when staying in the capital, and despite it's Zone 5-ness it's pretty easy to get to for a rail bod like myself with connections to Victoria, London Bridge, Blackfriars and St Pancras. It's been a stopover on the way to Paris on a couple of occasions. In fact, most of the time I've been there it's been only a stopover. So the last time I visited I decided to check out some of Croydon itself.

The Museum of Croydon is in the Clocktower at the Town Hall. Ah, the Clocktower. I don't know how well the above photo will zoom, but if you do look closely at the grey stone half way up you'll see a familiar inscription: 'Carpe Diem'. What you will also see is a less well-known inscription: 'Venit Nox'. A figure separating the two phrases holds a scythe, emphasizing the message of the ticking clock above: 'Seize the day, for the night cometh'. That's pretty rad.

The museum itself isn't huge - you could probably get round it in less than an hour. But it's full of interesting artifacts: a Crystal Palace season ticket from when they reached the First Division in 1969; a pottery figure of Nellie Chapman, the 'Lion Queen' of Victorian Croydon Fairs; and a wooden carving of 'Paper Jack', the eccentric tramp who slept on the streets of Croydon in the 1930s

Paper Jack

Listen it's got four stars - or those circle things at any rate - on Trip Advisor and I'd pretty much go along with that. 

I think what really won me over about Croydon is that it contains three of my favourite things (four, if you count the two comic shops down on Church St).

There is a Pie and Mash shop that will do you veg pies if you phone your order in before visiting.

In Shirley, there is a windmill. It's only open infrequently, so I plan to pay a proper visit in the future.

And, of course, it's home of Greater London's only tram line, which rather fabulously is free for railway employees.

So, I like Croydon and I'm looking forward to exploring it further. I haven't been to Croydon Airport yet, where Amy Johnson set off on her record breaking flight to Australia. And I'm determined to get in a round of frisbee golf at Lloyd Park.

Among the many disparaging remarks thrown Croydon's way is David Bowie's dismissal of the town in a 1999 interview in Q magazine. He says that if he wanted to be derogatory about somebody or something he would say 'God, it 's so fucking Croydon!' That seems to have been quoted a lot, summing up the world Bowie tried to get away from, with it's not entirely successful concrete futurism, bland and uninspiring. But what's not mentioned is how he completes that thought in the interview.

'I suppose it looks beautiful now.'

More soonliest

Alien Cat on a Train

The Twenty-Fifth of July Two Thousand and Twelve. Thursday.

Anyway, so I was getting the train back from Manchester to Scarborough. The usual thoughts going through my head - should I get chips on the way home or would a bowl of Super Noodles do me for tea. When this cat climbed up on my table.

'Is it all right if I sit here, boss?' he asked.

'Oh yeah, just make yourself at home, why don't you?' I replied and I moved the packet of Barbecue Hula Hoops I'd had open on the table. Didn't want cat hairs in there.

'What's with all the talking?' I asked.

'Don't get uncool,' replied the cat. 'This isn't the quiet carriage.'

'No, I mean being a cat and talking.'

He stared at me crazy, crazy style.

'I am not of this Earth, human! What think you of that!'

And then he gave a bizarre ear-piercing miaow that coupled with his odd grasp of grammar convinced me of his non-terrestrial origins. That was enough to trigger an age old memory.

'I've just remembered a competition I entered when I was at junior school,' I told him. He didn't seem to be interested in this and went about his own indifferent feline affairs. But I persisted.

'The Disney film The Cat from Outer Space was coming out and we had to draw what we thought such a creature would look like. I'm not much of an artist, but I put considerable thought into my rendering of a green cat in a spacesuit with annotations showing various scientific features of interest. I can still remember the teacher's bemused expression - it wasn't as accomplished as the work of others but it was fabulous frankly and I still recall the disappointment from the teacher's lack of appreciation, nay, her mild mockery even.'

That's when the cat on the table turned to me and said:

'Man, I love that film!'

 (I don't know if he was saying 'Man' in a kind of 'dude' type of way or whether he was just calling me a man like he'd called me a human earlier.)

Anyroad up, that seem to improve his mood. So I thought I'd chance my arm and move the conversation on.

'What do you think of The Gnome-Mobile?' I asked him.

'Don't make me hurt you,' he hissed.

More soonliest.