Tag - London

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My Tour of Highgate Cemetery
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Fajitas, Fascists and The Future

My Tour of Highgate Cemetery

I am fascinated by cemeteries. The protagonist in my 2nd novel, Necropolis, works for the burials and cemeteries department in his local council. I have also written blog posts about the Old Brompton Cemetery in London, Recoleta in Buenos Aires and Zentralfriedhof in Vienna. This week I visited Highgate Cemetery in London. It is home to many famous people including a number of authors.

Highgate Cemetery is divided into 2 sections – East and West. To view the West one has to pre-book. Tour groups are admitted once a day. As for the East it is open to the public – admission £4. And it is the East side that I visited on a grey, wet but mild November afternoon. Below is Douglas Adams grave. Adams wrote The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. (Note the pens in the pot).

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Jim Horn was an avid reader.

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Below is Mary Ann Cross’s (pen name – George Eliot) grave. Eliot was one of the leading novelists of the Victorian era. She used a male pen name so that she would be taken seriously in a male-dominated society.

George Eliot

Karl Marx is the most famous resident of Highgate Cemetery.

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Much of the cemetery has a rural feel (see below).

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This lady evidently really loved her dog.

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The multi-cultural nature of the area is reflected in the style of graves (see below).

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No prizes for guessing what Harry Thornton did for a living. He perished in the 1918 flu pandemic.

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Malcolm McClaren (1946-2010) was an impresario, rock-artist, clothes designer and boutique owner. His epitaph reads – ‘Better a spectacular failure, than a benign success.’

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Below is TV presenter Jeremy Beadle’s grave. The diminutive star was adored by the nation’s TV watchers.

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Some of the graves have seen better days. I was trying to locate Anthony Shaffer’s resting place (author of 1970 bestseller Sleuth) when I came across this grave. I never did find Shaffer’s.

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Bruce Reynolds was the mastermind of the Great Train Robbery in 1963.

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Below is a resident of the cemetery.

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I would highly recommend Highgate Cemetery.

Necropolis

Fajitas, Fascists and The Future

London – Thursday – I get on the bus and take £2.40 out of my pocket for the fare. The driver informs me London buses are now cash free.

‘So you’re a comedian now,’ reply I, attempting to hand over the money as I do so.

He shakes his head glumly and says, ‘No cash’.

A number of the other passengers nod in agreement. I ask, ‘Why?’

The driver tells me 99% of passengers find it more convenient to pay with Oyster cards (travel cards). My Oyster card is at home.

‘And the other 1%?’ I enquire.

My question is met with shrugging, gesturing, perplexity. I find myself back on the pavement, where I proceed to complain vehemently to any people waiting for a bus who care to listen. A teenaged girl says I can use her spare Oyster card for a fee, which is slightly in excess of what the journey actually costs, but needs must.

London Bus

On the upper deck of the bus I find myself in a reflective mood, contemplating what it will be like living in a cash-free Britain.  It is only a matter of time. In my mind’s eye I see myself aged about a hundred remembering the nostalgic days of my relative youth when money was still used. No doubt I will be met with shrugging perplexity when I tell youngsters about those distant memories.

So deep in thought was I that I missed my stop and was forced to hurry back on foot so as not to be late to meet a friend. We went to a Mexican restaurant, where I ordered chicken fajitas, and my dining companion a seafood enchilada, or was it a burrito, or perhaps a fajita – I forget. There was a group of very friendly Japanese lawyers on an adjoining table, who communicated with us in broken English.  There was also a table containing amiable, smiling Spanish tourists, who were also keen to converse. I couldn’t remember London ever seeming so friendly and welcoming. Then I looked up and saw this group (see below). Note the individual with his back to the camera wearing a West Coast Choppers biker t-shirt bearing Nazi insignia (Eagle and Iron Cross).

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I was so astounded that I took a photograph of the group, much to the chagrin of the baseball cap wearing one (facing camera).  Several of them stormed over to our table and made various threats to our wellbeing, instantaneously destroying the restaurant’s friendly ambience. It was evident from the not particularly threatening nature of their threats that they weren’t genuine West Coast Choppers, but rather English wannabe bikers, which was most fortunate, as otherwise I suspect I would have lived to regret my actions.

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