The River .......... no. 16 ..... from The Goldsmith Collection

Now anyone who has walked this bit of the River at Greenwich will remember the noise of the water lapping the stones and the smell.

It doesn't matter how many times I pass this spot it always fascinates me.

Location; Greenwich



Picture; the River 2017, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

The Goldsmith Collection ....... no. 1 on the River

Now when our Jillian offered to share her portfolio of photographs with me and the blog I jumped at the offer.

There are some stunning pictures in the collection which makes me very proud of my little sister, but it is also that they capture so many places I grew up with but left behind over fifty years ago when I left for Manchester.

So over the next few months I shall be featuring some of her photographs, and for a while at least some will mirror a set of images I took in the 1970s.

And because if you come from south east London you never really get the Thames out of your system, here are the first two.

The collection also includes some of the Kent coast and of course Eltham where we grew up and where our Jillian still lives.

I chose these two to start the series because they reflect the changes of the River over the last few decades.

The Naval College and gasometer are still a reassuring features but the sky line has altered out of all recognition from when I worked down at the food factory by the Blackwall Tunnel.

Location; Greenwich









Pictures; the River, 2017 from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

Adventures out of Peckham ........ the park, General Wolf and a song by Mr Como

The sun is shining and while it might not yet be hot enough to crack the paving stones, there is a promise of a fine day ahead of us.

Greenwich Park, 2017

And on days like this when you are ten, adventures just happen.

We had met up mid way between all our houses and immediately fell out about what to do.

None of us had much in the way of money so Red Rovers which offered unlimited travel across London for 2/6d was not going to happen and it became a matter of where we hadn’t been and how far it would take to get there.

All of us agreed that whatever we did it had to be out of Peckham and so for the second time in a week we headed off to Greenwich Park.

River, 2017

This was not entirely such a good idea as all three of us had been in the dog house for our last adventure which had involved us exploring the beach by the foot tunnel.

We could have chosen that sandy strip in front of the Naval College but instead opted for a spot down river by three beached barges, and that led to disaster as each of us sank up to our ankles in oozy, oily Thames mud.

That was terrifying enough, but having been rescued by a bargee who pulled all of us free, there was the long walk home caked in that mud and a series of almost identical interrogations about what had happened. To my eternal shame I blamed John and Jimmy.

But undaunted by such an ordeal we went back, although this time we kept to the park.

That long walk, 2017

Once through the gates, and having made the long walk past the water fountain to General Wolf, and faced with that steep slope we rolled down it.

Now that was fun but daft, given that the grass was newly cut and stuck to us, and then took ages to fall off while we played amongst the trees and explored the courtyard of the Royal Observatory.

Then, as the sun climbed higher in the sky we sat on the bench by General Wolf and like him we gazed out across park and the river to that other place, north of the water.

From General Wolf, 1978

Back then the river was still a working river and the tall blocks of flats and offices had yet to be built leaving a vague memory that we could see the Monument but sixty years separate me from that adventure and I dare say I have got that bit wrong.

But never underestimate the power of a sunny day and cut grass to throw you back into your childhood.  Or the delights of warm lemonade from a glass bottle that we shared.

We were the master of all we surveyed and to the bafflement of passersby recited a rhyme which contrived to name all the TV Westerns in a story.  I can no longer remember the details suffice to say,  that Rawhide, Bonanza, Laramie, Cheyanne and perhaps Have Gun Will Travel were all featured.

Looking up towards General Wolf

I guess it was inspired by the 1959 Perry Como song, Delaware, which had lines like, “What did Del-a-ware boy, what did Delaware, She wore a brand New Jersey”, going on to mention another 13 US States.

The challenge of both Mr Como’s song and our rhyme was to remember each line perfectly, a task I failed to do then and still can’t today.

Perhaps out there someone will remember the TV rhyme and offer it to me.

We shall see.

Location; Peckham and Greenwich

Pictures; Greenwich Park and the River, 2017 from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith, and looking out from General Wolf, and looking up to him, 1978 from the collection of Andrew Simpson

The walk in the park........ no. 18 ...... from the Goldsmith Collection

Our Jillian often gets her best pictures first thing in the morning when the light is sharp, the air is fresh and there is a promise of another exciting day.

Location; Greenwich Park


Picture; A walk in the park,, 2017 from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

When the sky is the thing …….

Take a boat, heaps of Norfolk water and our Jill with a camera and you get some stunning pictures which double as a bit of a history story.

History because it was a while ago, water because it was the Norfolk Broads and lots of sky because our Jill likes sky pictures.

And that really is it, other than to say amongst the stunning landscapes there is the picture that mixes the skyline with the bottle of orange juice, notes of the route and the wallet.

Location; Norfolk Broads

Pictures: When the sky is the thing, 2025, from the collection of Jill Goldsmith

Mottingham Railway Station ….. the place with three names …….

When you lived in Well Hall your chosen railway station was always going to be Well Hall which today might be described as an Interchange, given that along with the trains there were heaps of buses which terminated next door.

But today it is Mottingham which has caught my attention.  It is a destination I have only visited once but can’t remember why.  

But it may have been to visit our Jill who lived and still lives off Middle Park Avenue and it is her pictures that made me reflect on the railway station with three names.

According to my Wikipedia,  “the station was first opened by the South Eastern Railway on 1 September 1866 as Eltham for Mottingham. 

In 1892 it was renamed Eltham & Mottingham. 

In 1927 it became Mottingham”.*

And it’s a station of many parts, having acquired a goods yard around 1900 it lost it in 1968 , along with its station box the following year.

But the upside ticket office has a mixture of structures,  with “the white clapboard dating from the original station of 1866, [a] brown brick construction of 1957 and sliding doors installed in 1988”.

And to follow up on the interchange link there are a series of buses close by one of which will have taken me back to Well Hall.

Doesn’t quite answer why I would have taken the train to Mottingham to see our Jill but I will let that hang in the air, although I am happy to receive suggestions on a used railway ticket, circa 1990.

All of that said I think I will wander across the network and explore some of the other railway stations I will have known.  

Already located on the blog are some stories of Well Hall Railway Station and its neighbour Eltham Park both of which are babies compared to Mottingham which has outlasted them both.

So with Jill’s help and her camera I will soon be back with more railway stations from Eltham.

Location; Mottingham

Pictures; sunny wet days on Mottingham Railway Station, 2026, from the collection of Jill Goldsmith

*Mottingham railway station, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mottingham_railway_station

Travelling the Broads with a camera ….. part 2

I am a great fan of other people’s pictures.

It’s a mix of reasons from experiencing new places to seeing those places through the lens of another’s camera.

And that leads me neatly to the photographs of our Jill, who like me would never claim to be a professional photographer, never studied photography and has never had an exhibition of her work.

But to quote that old throwaway comment she knows what she likes and manages to capture some fine scenes.

These were from a boating holiday a few summers ago and perfectly offer up days and nights on the water.

With that added recognition that not everything on the tourist trail is picturesque.

Location; the Norfolk Broads

Pictures; summer days and nights on the Broads, undated, from the collection of Jill Goldsmith

Travelling the Broads ….. part 1

 I am a great fan of other people’s pictures.

It’s a mix of reasons from experiencing new places to seeing those places through the lens of another’s camera.

And that leads me neatly to the photographs of our Jill, who like me would never claim to be a professional photographer, never studied photography and has never had an exhibition of her work.

But to quote that old throwaway comment she knows what she likes and manages to capture some fine scenes.

These were from a boating holiday a few summers ago and perfectly offer up days and nights on the water.

Location; the Norfolk Broads

Pictures; summer days and nights on the Broads, undated, from the collection of Jill Goldsmith

Walking the River to that skyline .......... no. 10 ...... from The Goldsmith Collection

As skies go it was pretty dramatic.

Location; Greenwich

Picture; the River, 2017, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

The view from the hill ........ home thoughts from abroad no. 5

Now sometimes it takes just one picture to remind me how long I have been away from home.

The scene will be all too familiar to many. 

From the top of the hill beside the Royal Observatory you have a panoramic view of the city.

To the left there is the bend of the River and off to the right the chimneys of the power station and directly ahead the tall blocks of the new commercial London.

And I say familiar but not to me, because the last time I gazed out from those benches beside the statue of General Wolf none of those tall blocks of glass, steel and buzzing enterprise existed.

The tallest building would still have been the Monument and I am pretty sure St Paul’s would also have been visible.

I was well aware at what had been going on but the change is still very dramatic given that I last looked out from the hill sometime in the early 1970s and while I have been back to the park and down into Greenwich I somehow never quite got to take the route from the gates at Blackheath to the observatory and look across London.

That last time had been a perfect autumnal day in 1971, the sun shone, the leaves were turning golden and I was home from Manchester with a group of friends proudly showing off my bit of London.

They were duly impressed taking in first that scene from the hill and then by degree descending into Greenwich, taking in the Cutty Sark, the foot tunnel and one or two of the local pubs.

It is a pity I never took my own picture but perhaps someone who did will share it so that I can compare our Jill’s picture with the past.

And yesterday Phil Mackie sent over some of his from 1974 which will appear later in the week.

Location; London

Picture; looking out across London, July 2017, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

Of such things are adventures made of ..........The Goldsmith Collection ...... no. 3

Now if you are nine, Greenwich Park is not a bad place to have an adventure.

For a start it is big and it’s full of trees and I am convinced once had deer, although I am prepared to be put right about the animals.

The adventure started long before the park and began with the walk up from Lausanne Road in Peckham, on to New Cross, Deptford and Blackheath and then through those big gates and that very straight road lined with trees.

If you walked it to the end there was the statute of Wolf and the Observatory and the panoramic view to the river and beyond.

But long before that we would have been seduced by a set of trees off to the right which allowed you to slip into the world of Robin Hood or some dark European forest filled with all manner of strange creatures.

And when that game was exhausted there was always the very silly one of rolling down from Wolf’s statute to the flat bit of the park.

We always seemed to do this just after the grass had been cut and ended up with bits of grass, and twigs which stuck to your clothes and stayed with you all day, which was not good for trying to get into the Maritime Museum, past the rigorous gaze of the attendants.

These guardians of our naval history tended to judge us as street urchins, up to no good, who were unable to appreciate the treasures which filled the galleries.

That said we were only turned away once and were left to wander the place at will, and back then we usually had the place to ourselves.

Not so that busy part of the Greenwich and the Cutty Sake. In the mid 1950s it cost I think 6d to get in but more often than not we saved the money for sweets and instead just looked down at those concrete steps of the Cutty Sark’s dry dock.

Today the ship is surrounded by a wrap around visitor’s centre which makes sense but takes a bit of the magic away.

That said trying to look at it through the eyes of a nine year old I might just have imagined it to be a space ship, such are adventures.

Location; Greenwich

Pictures; Greenwich Park, 2017 from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

South east London and the pictures that mean the most

Now I am wondering just which scene means most to those of us who were born and grew up in south east London.

I fully accept that is a bit of a tall order given the size of south east London and if like me you have moved around a bit.

Added to which bits will have changed almost out of recognition so having been born in the first half of the last century the landscape of Woolwich and Peckham baffle me when I return.

But if I had to choose it might well be the Pleasaunce or the woods in Well Hall where I was most happiest, the ferry with its connection to the Thames or when the train pulls over the river towards Waterloo Railway Station and I know I am home.

The idea of a personal picture was sparked off recently when our Jill took a series of photographs of Greenwich Park, and like many who looked at them I was instantly transported back to magical times long ago.

Mine include playing in the park, taking a new girlfriend for a walk down into Greenwich, and that time in the autumn of 1970 when I showed the place off to a group of friends from Manchester.

Nothing will quite top that day.  The sun was still warm and set off the leaves which were turning from gold to brown but there was that slight chill which you can get in early October.

And it is of early mornings that I shall finish, because Jill took the pictures soon after the sun had risen, when the light is sharp and enhances the features of landscape.

So that is it.

Location; Greenwich

Pictures; Greenwich Park, July 2107, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

Planning an adventure across Peckham in the summer of 1960

Now I say Peckham, but the chances are that in the summer of 1960 it could have been anywhere, from Nunhead and on to Dulwich, or via Deptford to Greenwich Park and the River.*

Entrance to the Royal Observatory, 2017

Of course adventures back then were not planned, but pretty much spur of the moment, and relied as much on Jimmy and John Cox’s vague memories of how to get to these places as anything.

Steps down to the River

It being midweek and pocket money spent, a Red Rover was off the cards and like so many adventures it was done by foot, leaving in the morning and getting back in the afternoon in time for tea.

For those born in the first half of the last century such adventures will be as recognizable as Tin Tin, Robin Hood, and I Love Lucy from the telly, and Two Way Family Favourites on the wireless.

If we were lucky our pooled finances might run to a bottle of lemonade and the price of a bag of chips, all supposing we could find a chippy. 

And on the rare occasion we came across a chip shop and a bakery together, there was the meal beyond meals, consisting of a hollowed out bread roll filled with chips, and washed down with warm lemonade.

The promise of an adventure in the park

So, adventures were limited on how far we could walk till we got lost, and whether we were successful in finding the goal of the trip.

But always qualified by that simple rule that once beyond the few streets around Lausanne Road, we were in alien territory where any local gang of lads could take offence at our presence.

This never actually happened, but it was an expectation which was a lesson in always be vigilant.

That said most adventures passed off with out event, but more by accident than design.

Looking back the challenge to walk along the parapet above a disused railway line even then seemed fraught with danger, and the subsequent walk along that railway bed ended when boredom set in.

Not that it stopped us doing it again and again.  It was a walk  where we met no one, found the odd discarded treasure, and were accompanied by the occasional bird, and the lazy buzz of bees and the sight of butterflies.

The Thames, 2017

The only real disaster occurred down by the Thames at Greenwich.  

The tide was out and we had a choice of turning left or right at the bottom of the stone steps hard by the entrance to the foot tunnel.

Right would have taken us by degree to the sandy bit in front of the Naval College.

Left, and we were amongst a collection of beached barges.  These seemed more interesting, but we were unprepared for the oozy, oily river mud in which we slowly sank.  

We weren’t in any real danger, and was rescued by a workman, but walking home to Peckham with shoes and ankles covered in the foul smelly mud was not pleasant, but nothing to the interrogation from mother, and to my eternal shame the speed with which I blamed Jimmy and John.

That long ago summer was interrupted by both of them going off on holiday and left to my own devices I fell on the summer school at Edmund Waller.

And as we all know that summer of 1960, the sun shone every day, and boredom was banished from our activities.

Looking out from the park

But then nostalgia for those long gone holidays can be deceptive, and lead you off into adventures where it was always hot, never rained and there was always an interesting destination.

It was one of the last carefree summers, the following was marked by the transition from junior to secondary school, which offered up new friends, and while Jimmy and John also went to Samuel Pepys, the adventures were over.

Location; out of Peckham 

Pictures; Greenwich, 2017, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

*And for those who wonder why all the pictures are of Greenwich in 2017, back in 1960 I didn't have a camera, and a full 57 years later our Jillian retraced many of the Greenwich adventures and took some fine pictures.

Always look up ........ no. 20 .... from the Goldsmith Collection

Masts and things.

Location; Greenwich




Picture; Greenwich, 2017 from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

The picture awaiting a title .......... no. 12 ...... from The Goldsmith Collection

So what caption should accompany the picture?

Location;Greenwich

Picture; Greenwich, 2017, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

Home thoughts from aboard no. 5 .......... the view from the hill

Now sometimes it takes just one picture to remind me how long I have been away from home.

The scene will be all too familiar to many. 

From the top of the hill beside the Royal Observatory you have a panoramic view of the city.

To the left there is the bend of the River and off to the right the chimneys of the power station and directly ahead the tall blocks of the new commercial London.

And I say familiar but not to me, because the last time I gazed out from those benches beside the statue of General Wolf none of those tall blocks of glass, steel and buzzing enterprise existed.

The tallest building would still have been the Monument and I am pretty sure St Paul’s would also have been visible.

I was well aware at what had been going on but the change is still very dramatic given that I last looked out from the hill sometime in the early 1970s and while I have been back to the park and down into Greenwich I somehow never quite got to take the route from the gates at Blackheath to the observatory and look across London.

That last time had been a perfect autumnal day in 1971, the sun shone, the leaves were turning golden and I was home from Manchester with a group of friends proudly showing off my bit of London.

They were duly impressed taking in first that scene from the hill and then by degree descending into Greenwich, taking in the Cutty Sark, the foot tunnel and one or two of the local pubs.

It is a pity I never took my own picture but perhaps someone who did will share it so that I can compare our Jill’s picture with the past.

Location; London

Picture; looking out across London, July 2017, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

A ship, a dome and six buildings .......... no. 14 ..... from The Goldsmith Collection

Location; Greenwich



Picture; Greenwich, 2017, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

Picture this ...........The Royal Observatory

Now I won’t be alone in thinking that Greenwich Park and the Royal Observatory are two of the outstanding places in south east London.

The park was one of my playgrounds for as long as I can remember while the Observatory captured my imagination when I was still in short trousers.

And our Jillian’s picture of the open space between the gates and the Royal Observatory has it all, leaving little else to say.

Location; The Royal Observatory

Picture; The Royal Observatory, 2017 from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith.

The Knitting years .... number 5 .........."Doing my bit"

The new series on the history of what we wore, Knitting Patterns, 1930-1970

Now these I like.  They come from a series entitled With Charm...... Patterns with Style and for me perfectly capture a sense of the last world war.

Toy factories had closed down and been redirected to make war materials and with everything in short supply, the use of left over wool to make children’s Christmas presents made sense..

That war like the one before it was all pervasive, from saying goodbye to a loved one, waiting for the sound of the air raid siren or just balancing the demands of the family’s needs against the limitations of rationing.

And one of observation that has always stayed with me is that simple one that “almost everyone you met was in uniform”.

I am now not quite sure where I first came across it and I suspect it was in the excellent short essay Post War by Diana Athill, which is a particularly good reason to re-read it.*

It covers the years after the Second World War when Ms Athill was in her late 20s and challenges that widely held view that the late 1940s and early 50s were drab.

On the contrary they were an exciting period full of new possibilities but above all a time of peace after six years of a hard war.

And so reflecting on the twin celebrations of VE and VJ Day she writes that these were not just celebrations of victory but more of peace and the chance to get on with lives interrupted by the conflict.

My own parents rarely talked of the war but for them and for others of their generation however necessary they thought the war might have been it put their lives on hold.

Sylvia in Ashton under Lyne once confided that those six years had robbed her of her adolescence.

But the essay is about far more than just the war and ranges over the exciting new ideas in fashion, home design and leisure, culminating with one of the early package tours to Corfu with Club Mediterranean, taking in the brilliant sunlight, the scenery and the smells of fresh herbs and lemons.

All this would be a fascinating enough but she also focuses on the changing political climate which ushered in not only the National Health Service but saw Britain divest itself of many of its former colonies and attempt to redress the inequalities of the past.

These then were “lovely years to live through.”*

And I suspect those knitting patterns lingered on into that lovely peace and as rationing continued it remained a case of how ever optimistic the future seemed, the present was still about make and mend.

Location; 1939-45

Pictures; knitting patterns 1939-45 from the collection of Jillian Simpson

*Athill Diana, Post War, from a collection of essays in Alive, Alive, Oh!, 2015

Reflections ........ no. 19 .... from the Goldsmith Collection

The window, the door and the river with that "other building".

Location; Greenwich




Picture; Greenwich, 2017 from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith