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Danger: Void Behind Door

Writing by Matt Haynes

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The Dolly Parton High-Wire Act

Danger: Void Behind Door

In much the same way that the Shin-Hotaka Ropeway in Takayama takes those with a head for heights up the third-tallest peak in Japan, London’s new cable car will take people from Newham to a car park near North Greenwich station.

A Greenwich Nocturne

Danger: Void Behind Door

A philosophical taxi driver considers whether a pick-up can actually be said to truly “exist” if he doesn’t have the postcode for his satnav.

Mr Chambers’ Coffee House

Danger: Void Behind Door

I try to get to the bottom of Blackheath but just end up having an overpriced (though very nice) muffin.

It’s A Cafe – Underneath A Boat

Danger: Void Behind Door

Donna Summer takes issue with those complaining that the new glassed-in Cutty Sark has been “renovated too modern”.

Farewell to Fitzalan Street

Danger: Void Behind Door

Early morning nudity on the 07:03 from Slade Green, and how Hubert the Inflexible Frenchman left me unable to lift heavy weights for six months.

The World Comes To Deptford

Danger: Void Behind Door

The world’s largest cruise liner visits Deptford but refuses to tell anyone.

Crawling Up The Mile End Road

Danger: Void Behind Door

Why buses, naked women and steamed puddings are synonymous in the minds of most middle-aged men, and why Boris’s obsession with helplessly drunk teenagers is so far proving a good thing.

Henry’s Plinth

Danger: Void Behind Door

Henry Moore’s sculpture returns to Greenwich Park just after I’ve made lots of fuss about nothing to impress a French girl.

We Need To Talk About Neddy

Danger: Void Behind Door

A five-year-old labrador that was swept up in the excitement of the 2011 London riots lives to regret looting Primark.

Feminist Pelicans

Danger: Void Behind Door

Some thoughts on the sexual politics of pedestrian-controlled traffic lights and why Brussels fills me with horror.

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Sifted by Ilk

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On the 17:10 to Crayford, she suddenly remembers Stockholm, and how he’d smiled when asking her name; and how she’d said “Madeleine”, because she’d known he’d never know it wasn’t.

Serendipity Doo-Dahs

A Riot Of Their Own

How I had my faith in human nature restored by the people of Sidcup and why toddlers and anarchists should neither be given Sunny Delight nor put in charge of the Northern Line.

London Prepares

The 2011 London riots: while Tottenham is in flames, Chipping Norton is in Oxfordshire.

You’re So Quiet You Sound Like Aldershot

Why it’s not just the lack of an internationally renowned art gallery, good tapas and an occasionally murderous independence movement that distinguishes Leyton from Bilbao.

The Spherical Love of French Teenagers

An unwelcome discovery on the meridian line makes me question whether padlocks have any role in a loving relationship.

A Greenwich Nocturne

A philosophical taxi driver considers whether a pick-up can actually be said to truly "exist" if he doesn't have the postcode for his satnav.

Threnody on the Death of a Street Lamp on Lollard Street, SE11

O noble lantern ’neath whose kindly fire
my love and I did oft together lark,
our bodies, lust-engorged, ’twined in desire –
why hast thou gone and left us in the dark?

Danger: Void Behind Door

A brief rumination on the fickleness of both women and space-time, and the possibility that access to some sort of infinite primordial darkness can be gained from the southbound Bakerloo Line platform at Waterloo.

It’s A Cafe – Underneath A Boat

Donna Summer takes issue with those complaining that the new glassed-in Cutty Sark has been "renovated too modern".

TK Maxx in Karl-Marx-Stadt

Leipzig 1989 remembered, and why the Dean of St Paul’s can’t hold a candle to the pastor of the Nikolaikirche.

Crawling Up The Mile End Road

Why buses, naked women and steamed puddings are synonymous in the minds of most middle-aged men, and why Boris’s obsession with helplessly drunk teenagers is so far proving a good thing.

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