Pleb Attack!

As you can partially see from today's picture the boat was pretty full this morning. I'm not sure wether it's the good weather that brings more people on the boat or whether it's just the service getting more popular.

London is one of those places where good spots are inevitably discovered by the plebs. Every decent pub, restaurant, vista or route only remains a tantilising secret for so long, before its delectable smell eeks out and the sniffing masses come-a-sniffing.

Maybe the world is like this. Maybe the world is too full and there is no longer the room for secret, exclusive places. Or maybe there is plenty of room and actually its just the human condition to despise it when others find what you have found.

Or perhaps they all just read this blog?

The River Flows On

The theme of military power seemed to continue along the river today. Wherever you look there are reminders of Britain's imperial past.

I found some poignancy in HMS Belfast's scruffy demeanour compared to the sparkling newness of Canary Wharf just several hundred metres east of the ex-warship. The river like a chronolgy of British power; From the military might remembered in moss-moored boats such as the Golden Hinde and HMS Belfast to the new commercial might of the financial behemoths that now tower above the river in the East Docklands.

At the centre of British power is London, and the centre of London is the river.

'How could drops of water know themselves to be a river? Yet the river flows on.'
(Antoine de Saint-Exupery)

History Boat

Rain meant all river commuters were indoors today. Still everyone had a seat and the boat was filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee (only £1.50 for a Latte!).

On the boat I was reading Melvyn Bragg's The Adventure Of English. He makes the point that a language becomes global because of the power that supports it. Latin became 'international' through the Romans and later the Catholic Church. Just as English has become so through the military might of the British and now Americans.

It made me fully sense the control that history has over us, that despite our best efforts to forge out our individuality we are ultimately and inextricably linked to the web of humanity, both past and present, that envelops us.

Bugger and sod it.

The White Boat

I can't find out anything about this boat on the internet. The internet is rubbish. However I can spot it from a satellite. The internet is brilliant.

Here's what it looks like from space through a very powerful telescope: http://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?f=q&q=brandrams+wharf&layer=&ie=UTF8&num=10&msa=0&msid=109464698120816828243.00000112233c16c3f29e8&hl=en&t=h&om=1&z=19&ll=51.503066,-0.050688&spn=0.000846,0.001786

Now if anyone knows anything about this boat then please post a comment. I may have to go to Rotherhide to find out for myself. If you want anything doing in this world: do it yourself.

The Land Is Mad

I've been away for a week in the French Riviera. Needless to say, most of my time was spent in boats. I was at a TV conference and most of the companies out there hire boats to stay in and use for meetings. It's a very effective way of making sure people turn up to meetings. Everyone loves boats you see.

We sailed out to a small Island off Cannes where there was a monastery that had been there since the fifth century. We dropped anchor and lapped in the gentle waves on the clear aquamarine water. There were several other boats around and everything was calm, peaceful and beautiful.

There is massive potential where boats are concerned. A massive potential for calm, peace and beauty. Get off the land, get off the land, for the land is mad.

The Eggsassin

Whenever I travel past the lone house I always imagine living in it. It's my ideal house. It stands in perfect isolation, yet right in the centre of one of the biggest cities in the word. Plus it's close to The Angel Inn. And it's in a park. And it overlooks the Thames.

One day I will buy that house and I will paint it and I will moor a boat outside it. I will shoot cadbury's cream eggs using a catapult from the top window at yoofs playing in the park. I will become known as The Eggsassin, and I will speak to noone except the barman at The Angel Inn. I will always insist on sailing the 200 metres to and from the pub. I will be blissfully reclusive and have an anchor symbol on my doormat.

Yes, the boat journey often provokes these kinds of thoughts. Maybe I should get the DLR next week.

Pirates!

What a lovely sunny day. I didn't want to get off the boat and would rather spend the whole day sailing. I saw two large sailing ships on the voyage to work this morning. Three if you include the replica of the Golden Hinde, pictured here, which is permanently berthed at St Mary Overie's Dock, Bankside.

We often see groups of tourists or school children (very little difference) scrambling about the Golden Hinde dressed as Tudor sailors or Pirates, whilst we, usually drunk, jeer at them from the Thameside Inn which is conveniently situated right next door.

I bet Sir Francis Drake didn't have to put up with beery, stoned media wankers laughing and shouting obscenities off starboard. Although he did have the French shooting canons at him from time to time, which was probably just as annoying.

Submarine Dreams

The long Easter weekend interrupted my boating. Very annoying, couldn't wait to get back to work so I could travel my beloved Thames again.

I sat on the riverbank at The Cutty Sark Tavern with Vince and Mike on Saturday night and we discussed the idea that I could actually buy my own boat to travel to work and back. It would mean getting moorings at Greenwhich and Savoy piers. Imagine getting up in the morning, walking down to the pier, jumping into your craft and then whizzing off to work. Like a spy. I need to look into it.

We also discussed the idea of getting my own submarine. But that was much later in the evening.

Buildings and Things

Right I better start actually taking pictures of buildings and things. Shame I was enjoying the boozing and philosophising.

Tate blinkin Modern. Now there's a building. I go past it every day now. TWICE! I salute it every time I go past as it is currently CLUB HQ. By that I mean me and my mates meet there, at the private members bar which has a terrace overlooking the Thames. We meet at 3.55 on the last Friday of the month, normally at the Royal Festival Hall, but that's being refurbished for us.

I wonder if when I travel home from work on the last Friday of this month I'll see myself up there, having a great time. I wonder if I'll be jealous?

Ahoy! Bar On Board!

I just can't get over how great it is to get a boat to work and back every day. Work has now just become an excuse to go on the boat.

The boat journey also gives you time to reflect on things. This is aided by the presence of a fully licensed bar onboard. I had a glass of wine on the way home last night and decided that the purpose of life was four-fold: Firstly, to ensure the survival of the species. Secondly to ensure the survival of one's progeny. Thirdly to ensure survival of oneself. Finally to extract pleasure from life wherever possible.

I texted this profound thought to my mate Andy. He texted back saying if I reversed the order he was up for it.

Life-Changingly Good

My first day travelling to work in central London from my new abode in Greenwhich. Mode of transport: boat. On the website ( www.thamesclippers.com ) they promise no traffic jams, a guaranteed seat and spectacular views; And boy, did they deliver.

There are so many buildings, landmarks, happenings and curious items along the river that I've decided to keep a journal of them, as I experience them each day.

There's so much in fact, that I've decided to concentrate on a single riverside item each day. I'll take a picture of it, research it and upload my findings to this blog. Over time, hopefully, this blog will paint an idiosyncratic picture of the life of the river Thames from Greenwich Pier to Embankment.