Journey through London from the comfort of your sofa and in the company of a stranger – via a book

BY SARAH JENNER

I remember reading Lara Maiklem’s description of Greenwich one very cold and dark night last January, in search of a distraction from my creaking radiators. Just like that I was there with her, sitting in the shade at the top of the hill in Greenwich Park, a necessary refuge from the fierce summer sun. I could see the view stretched out before me, the stately Naval College and the loop of the Thames as it made its way around the Isle of Dogs, the towers of Canary Wharf in the distance. The air was fresh and smelt of dry grass and summertime, and I instantly knew this was a place she felt at home.

It wasn’t the first time I had journeyed through London from the comfort of my sofa and in the company of a stranger. I’ve been travelling there for years, reading countless books written in and about the city, every corner, time period and plotline imaginable. I’ve crept around a deserted Chelsea mansion in Lisa Jewell’s The Family Upstairs, paced through Marylebone with Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, and walked through West London to await the demise of Nicola Six in London Fields by Martin Amis. Three adventures amongst a great many others.

Lara was my first guide through Greenwich, and her book Mudlarking allowed me to walk beside her as she explored the foreshore by the Trafalgar Tavern, walking down past the rowing club to a place where wooden posts were exposed at low tide, remnants of a medieval jetty from a time when Greenwich had a palace that fronted the river here. I knew even before she told me that this was a place she loved, the fondness in her writing was unmistakeable.

Not all companions are quite as calm however. Diana Gabaldon’s Lord John made no secret of his frustration in 18th century Woolwich, the constant booms of exploding ordnance echoing overhead as we dashed through the rain and mud of the never-ending lanes of The Warren. The smells were of smoke and hot metal, men in military uniforms or otherwise engaged in some form of industrial activity passed in the streets with the air around full of the sounds of hammering and shouting. Not the most glamorous journey I’ve ever been on, but certainly one of the most exciting, galloping through narrow passageways to arrive at the Royal Brass Foundry with its casting pits and huge boring machinery.

To ride with Lord John was to ride through an integral part of London’s military history, one that is still evident today in the buildings near Woolwich Arsenal Pier that sit just back from the river. The Foundry is now a museum, the red brick proudly framing the huge doors, tall enough to allow for the size of newly-built cannons. The site, already of military importance at the time of my visit, would see huge expansion around the time of the First World War, with the Ministry of Defence resident in some form until 1994. I’m not sure how easily Lord John would be able to get his bearings amongst the new shops and developments but I am sure he would appreciate the more open layout, if only for the space through which to ride his horse.

I entered a more modern London on the other side of the Thames, as Nazneen and I peered through net curtains to watch the passers-by in Bethnal Green, her tattooed neighbour drinking beer from the can, throwing the empties straight out of the window. Her detailed and honest observations brought the place to life with real compassion, immersing me in the lives of an immigrant Bangladeshi community; an unfamiliar world in a familiar city. A newly-married Nazneen negotiated her unknown surroundings and built relationships with those around her, the complexities of culture and origin explored and questioned. Her London was one of tower blocks, cramped and decaying flats and cracked paving slabs, busy streets and the constancy of traffic, the noise of it sometimes overwhelming. She showed me the housing estates, cash and carry supermarkets and call centres, the room of sewing machines beneath a low ceiling, just visible at the bottom of a flight of concrete steps. A guided tour of the reality for many new arrivals to the city.

Years later I sat on the top deck of a bus with Nazneen and her family as we journeyed to Buckingham Palace and St James’ Park, tourists in a city in which she had now spent almost half her life. Here was the London of postcards and holiday brochures, world famous buildings occupied by history, tourists jostling for space on the pavements, a colourful mix of backpacks and noise. I saw the railings topped with gold and the vastness of the palace as it loomed above The Mall. We may only have travelled about five miles across the city, but we were in a very different place, one that seemed almost unreal in comparison to the world we had, momentarily, left behind.

It is this endless combining of people and places, languages, culture, music and food, that is so perfectly captured by Benjamin Zephaniah in his poem The London Breed, commissioned by the Museum of London in 2000. His writing encompasses the city in a vivid description of energetic, irresistible force, a poem about diversity, multiculturality and unity. Recognising those who have long come to London to seek sanctuary, refuge and re-invention. Reading his poem I felt as if I was high up above the city, looking down on all those within. There was the noise from Nazneen’s heavy traffic in her overcrowded concrete jungle. There were Lord John’s old buildings under grey skies, over there Lara Maiklem’s riverbanks and warming summer heat. With them as my guides I had experienced corners of the city I had never visited, tasted the air as we stood by the foreshore, felt the vibrations of thundering lorries through my feet and touched points in history that have shaped the city we see today. And all without leaving my sofa. Such is the privilege of literary travel.

Books referenced:
Monica Ali – Brick Lane
Martin Amis – London Fields
Arthur Conan Doyle – The Great Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
Diana Gabaldon – Lord John and the Hand of Devils
Lisa Jewell – The Family Upstairs
Lara Maiklem – Mudlarking: Lost and Found on the River Thames
Benjamin Zephaniah – Too Black Too Strong