Where the wild winds blow ....

Having just spent the best part of a week between Edinburgh and Manchester (not literally ...), being windswept in the former and soaked to the skin in the latter, I was almost happy to get home to sleepy old Surrey. Until I spotted the garden fence ... or, rather, the gap where it should have been. Worst (or possibly best) of all, the neighbour's cat and I can now eye each other balefully without having to leave our own space.

Huguenot graveyard, London

A teacher of my father's once told him that he probably had Huguenot blood, a guess based, I presume, on his mother's maiden name, Minford. And ever since he told me this, I've rather liked the idea of having a drop or two of French blood. I would say it accounts for the bad temper, but I suspect being Irish covers that ...

But I digress. Wandsworth wasn't always best known for its prison, or being home to Gordon Ramsay. Back in the 17th century it provided a rural base for the wealthy Huguenot cloth and dye merchants lured there by the twin benefits of religious freedom and the River Wandle. And not only did they live here (many of their homes still standing, now split into flats) but they also died and were buried in Wandsworth.

The Huguenot graveyard, known as Mount Nod, is still there, marooned in traffic in the middle of the south circular. The space between the graves is relatively tidy, but the graves themselves are for the most part in a dreadful way - trees growing through stone, names so worn as to be illegible. I can't decide whether to be sad at its neglect or relieved that it hasn't been cleared to make way for yet more swanky flats.

Old workhouse, Wandsworth

Out and about in Wandsworth today (translates as: the only dentist in the world who doesn't scare the bejaysus out of me works there, so I schlepp back twice a year to see her), and I decided to check out some sumptuous flats which I thought might have been an old hospital. Turns out that they were once the St John's Hill Workhouse. This sign caught my eye.

BT Tower - view from the top

Up the BT Tower today, for a work event. The invitation didn't specify which floor, so on my way there it suddenly occurred to me that I might be schlepping into London for a first floor view of a portakabin. Happily not. I was ushered into a lift for a very smooth whizz up to the revolving one-time restaurant on the 34th floor. We were lucky with the weather - the views across London were stunning, and I was able to spend some time (when I should have been listening to the presentations, obviously) observing builders at work on a far below rooftop.
But I did find the revolving aspect slightly disconcerting. Perhaps because it didn't start until two thirds of the way through the event, by which stage I had forgotten about it.
There was a story in the papers today about the restaurant re-opening to the public in 2011 - I asked a BT employee but she said it wasn't true. We shall see.