Civics class. Or, 'Would you like a neighbourhood forum?'

Have patience with me for this one. It's not going to be the snappiest post, but it might matter.

So, there's this thing called the Localism Act. 

It says that if twenty-one or more local people gather they can become a 'neighbourhood forum' and devise a 'neighbourhood plan' that says where they think new houses, businesses and shops should go  and what they should look like.

The Government's crib sheet to the Act says:

'Provided a neighbourhood development plan is in line with national planning policy, with the strategic vision for the wider area set by the local authority, and with other legal requirements, local people will be able to vote on it in a referendum.  If the plan is approved by a majority, then the local authority will bring it into force.'

The maps below shows the North London forums that are being set up:

There's a bigger and clearer picture here thanks to Arkady.

Yeah, I can't see a Hornsey Road forum either. That may be bad. Whatever you think of the Act it is likely to work out better for areas with forums than for areas without them. 

I have a thousand and one reasons why I'm not going to volunteer to start this, but if you're interested in setting up a Shaftesbury to Seven Sisters Road 'Hornsey Road: Tollington' forum or a Seven Sisters to the Emirates 'Hornsey Road: Ashburton Grove' one then tell me. 

If you ask nicely I'll even give you a free post. 

Lots more here and here and here.

What are you crying about?

If you look up next time you're outside 471 Hornsey Road you'll see this man above the carpet shop:

Look closer. He's wearing a red frock coat and black hat, has a bell in one hand and scroll in the other. 

He looks kind of like this lady: 

Shirley Ballard, the Isle of Wight's official town crier
Thanks to jonno259 on flickr

The carpet shop has been there seventeen years. The Town Crier picture was there when they arrived, and must have been there a long time before that because it was a mystery to them too.

It's signed MS. The shape of the building and its being on a corner near what was once a railway station made me wonder if it had been a pub, but there's no sign of it on deadpubs.co.uk

I'm stumped. Any ideas?

Park Kitchen @Wray Crescent.

The Park Kitchen opened in Wray Crescent this Saturday. I meant to review the opening because I take my responsibilities as one of the Hornsey Road's leading bloggers seriously. It's a vocation. A calling. A quest.

The thing is, I got there too late and it was closed. There was wailing, gnashing of teeth and peckishness. All the more so as the trailer/cafe looked promising. 

My laziness was rewarded though, because the owner (who I think is called Paul) was still around closing up, as was  his mother and a friend. 

Paul's mother had a tupperware box with her, and the box had cakes that he had baked and she was proud and surprised at how good they were and, well, somehow I got a free cake. 

It was an excellent cake, crumbly and moist and all the things cakes should be. And I know cakes. 

This bodes well. Wray Crescent is a sweet little park (and the Friends of are doing good things) but it couldn't be perfect while it didn't have a cafe. And now it has a cafe that does sterling cakes.

Did you go when it was open? What did you think?

Follow @TheParkKitchen on Twitter for more information.

Friday cat and flower blogging

Sidney admires a rose from With Love. And then tries to eat it. 

Exciting Flavours: Any Occasional Parties Are Welcome.

So, this sign appeared outside the Hornsey Pool and Amusements building a few weeks ago:

There isn't a place called Al Fakher on the Hornsey Road. As far as I can tell, there's never been a place called Al Fakher on the Hornsey Road. 

The sign falls over sometimes, and then someone picks it up and props it against the wall again.

There is only one logical solution. This sign is a portal. Or perhaps a portkey. The question now is where it takes you.

The Hornsey Road's Myspace page

is long dormant, but it does have this description:

'Hornsey Road, in the London Borough of Islington, is the epitome of urban chic. Snaking its way through the middle of a series of recently rejuvenated and "up and coming" areas (Finsbury Park, Holloway, Stroud Green, Archway, Crouch End) without being part of any of them, Hornsey Road has managed to retain a special kind of street charm that is tragically becoming rare in modern London. 

None of these nouveau riche areas wants Hornsey Road, and Hornsey Road doesn't want any of them. Hornsey Road exists in its own time and space, like that alternate 1985 in Back to the Future II where Biff's in charge and there's tanks on the street and prostitutes everywhere.'

Whoever wrote that should write more. 

Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.

Eliza Gilbert spent the summer of 1842 at Almond House, Hornsey Road. 

She was in trouble. She'd already done a Lydia Bennet (married a flashy lieutenant when she was sixteen) and a Becky Sharp (run off with a better-connected lieutenant when she was nineteen) and she didn't have many options left. 

Her husband wanted to sue her for adultery, her reputation was shot and as well brought up young lady she didn't actually know how to do anything.

She should have caved, but she didn't. Instead, she reinvented herself as Lola Montez, the great Spanish dancer:

Joseph Karl Stieler 'Lola Montez' 1847
Image courtesy of Wikipedia

She didn't speak Spanish, she'd never even been to Spain, she couldn't dance, and she'd never been on stage. Somehow, though, she got herself onto a gala performance at His Majesty's Theatre to do her 'Spider Dance' where she pretended that a spider had climbed up her skirts. The audience and the papers loved it, but her husband's friends ratted her out and she had to leave town.

She spent the next two decades sweeping into places with a flurry of letters to the editor and sold out performances and sweeping out as people turned on her. 

Through it, she had affairs with Liszt and Petipa, appalled Wagner who called her a 'heartless, demonic being',  persuaded the King of Bavaria (who had a thing for her feet) to name her Countess Landsfeld and nearly lost him his throne.

When she grew too stiff for dancing she took to lecturing, and charged more that Dickens could for his readings. 

1955 Lola Montes movie poster, thanks to Wikipedia
The movie tanked.

She was heroic in a way, but for all the shine and drama of her life she was also horrid. She hit people who couldn't hit back, lied extravagantly and continually, campaigned against women's rights and for slavery. She might not be the worst person to have lived on the Hornsey Road, but she'd take some beating.

This post's title is from an Adler and Ross song for Damn Yankees, whose lyrics capture her willful awfulness better than I can: 'I always get what I aim for/ And your heart and soul are what I came for/ Whatever Lola wants/Lola gets [...] I'm irresistible you fool/Give in.'

For much more, and a more sympathetic take, see Bruce Seymour's 'Lola Montez', Yale University Press, 1996. Oh, and Madonna used 'Lola Montez' as a pseudonym.