↓
 

Danger: Void Behind Door

Writing by Matt Haynes

  • Who?
  • What?
  • Why?
  • Smoke
  • Sarah
  • Tricity
  • Shop
  • FAQ
  • Contact

Post navigation

← Older posts
Newer posts →

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.

Post navigation

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Sifted by Ilk

  • Fiction
  • Non-Fiction
  • London
  • South East London
  • London in 30 Words
  • Smoke A London Peculiar
  • Transport
  • Politics
  • Poems and Parodies

“See you tomorrow, love,” says the barmaid, blustering out into the E10 afternoon. He nods, Wetherspoons pie half-eaten, coat still buttoned against the cold he feels much more these days.

Serendipity Doo-Dahs

Helena Bonham Carter and the Thirty-Foot Elephant

How Josephine's coquettish suggestion that Napoleon surprise her with something long and wrinkly led to a giant elephant being installed in the Place de la Bastille.

Farewell to Fitzalan Street

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.

London Prepares

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

The Ecstasy of Michael Gove

I stare bleakly into the abyss and wonder whether the election of Boris Johnson is all my fault (it's not, it's all yours).

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".

Taxi for Mr Johnson

How the removal of bendy buses on route 507 inspired a new TfL competition to redesign the wheel in time for 2012.

These Weirdoes Are Weird

Why I won’t let you tell me what you think about what I think about David Mitchell.

Is This What People Do?

The lorries are starting to move now, rumbling across the deck of the James Newman and onto the ramps that shake and ring beneath their tyres. He is supposed to leave too; there is an announcement over the tannoy, every time a ferry docks, forbidding passengers to remain on board.

Anti-Zizzi, Anti-Pasti

Protests regarding the plethora of new chain restaurants at Greenwich pierhead stall when fossil records show that chickens first emerged on the small Greek island of Nandos.

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.

↑