the search for the last anchor steam

August 29, 2023August 29, 20231 Comment

I was disappointed and sad when I heard that Anchor Steam was stopping production. I didn’t even try to come up with amusing things to say like, well they ran out of steam, or calling their owners a bunch of anchors. It’s not like I drink that much of it. I don’t drink much beer at all these days, except if I’m out on a day like this in the city, and I like to stop off at one of the old historic North Beach bars for a refreshing pint or two, maybe three, and sketch the old place. In San Francisco, that beer would almost always be Anchor Steam, so I have some to associate the taste of that beer with those happy moments after a good day’s sketching and exploring this most fascinating of cities. I was in search of that last Anchor Steam, so I headed over to what is possibly the city’s oldest bar, The Saloon. I’ve never actually had a beer in there before, though I have drawn the exterior. It always looked busy with an older more seasoned crowd, much more of the wild west about it than other local bars; I quite liked the mystery of it, but I wasn’t sure if I would fit in. I’ve seen too many cowboy films. Today would be the day though, so I went in, it looked how I expected it to, a place I knew I would have to sketch. It’s cash only, and I went to the bar and asked for an Anchor Steam, in my meekest British voice. I half expected the bar to suddenly hush, for a few folks to get their hats on and scurry outside, while the barman said “we ain’t got no Anchor Steam in here! Here we drink hard liquor! What’s it gawn’ be boy?” Again I have seen way too many westerns, or rather TV shows pretending to be like Westerns. However that didn’t happen, obviously. Instead, the barman said they were out of Anchor Steam, except the Anchor Steam Porter (I didn’t fancy that). So I settled for an 805, and sat over at the back to get a sketchable view of the bar. Nearby they were setting up for some live music, which they have regularly in here. I wasn’t in there long enough to find out what the music was like, I saw the female singer getting ready and talking with the locals it looked like she knew everyone in there, and of course I imagined it would have a very country and western sound; if they had sold Anchor Steam, I might have stuck around to find out. As it is, I did a quick but pretty detailed drawing of the bar, and headed back out to continue my search. I was starting to worry that there would be no final Anchor Steam for me. I did a very quick sketch of the outside which I filled in later, and headed down Columbus.

The place I wanted to go, Specs, was closed, opening at 4pm. So I went down to do a quick drawing of the Sentinel Building (also known as Columbus Tower, though I’ve never actually heard it called that). I really like this building, and of course when I was up in Coit Tower I had seen it looking so tiny. This is where Francis Ford Coppola’s company American Zoetrope is based, and the cafe on the first floor under those red awnings is called Cafe Zoetrope. Incidentally, my son finally watched The Godfather this past weekend, first time he’s ever seen that film, one of my favourites ever. As I sketched, a man (who I think had found the Anchor Steam, and drunk many of them) came up and noticed I was sketching, and started to show me his sketchbook and sketching gear, all Micron pens and stuff. He was with soem other friends and they were going to all these Grateful Dead events, as were a lot of people in the city, as I’d seen way more Grateful Dead t-shirts than ever before. Anyway he told me that he sketched but his friends did not, and they were very good being patient with him while he sketched at the parties and concerts, and I was like, I hear ya mate, those are good friends. Always nice to meet one of your own out there, a fellow sketcher who just can’t really stop sketching. We shook hands, and he went off to some other Grateful dead party. I finished up this sketch fast, as it was now 4pm and Specs was going to open.

Specs was still closed, so I jay-walked across Columbus to the other old favourite, Vesuvio’s. I don’t like Vesuvio’s as much as Specs (it usually feels that bit more crowded), but I still really like Vesuvio’s. And there it was, that distinctive beer-handle with the traditional logo (not the uglier yellow and blue one they brought in a few years ago): Anchor Steam. It was a bit like finding the Holy Grail, but admittedly not that hard to find. My legs were tired, my hands all done with street sketching, my eyes too weary to be looking at all those details, now it was time to settle down for a nice cold beer.

I sat in this odd wicker basket chair, like I was inside half a birdcage, and drew my pint (above) while texting with my sister in London, and also my friend James who remembered Anchor Steam from when he and his wife were married here eight years ago. After hearing the news about the beer’s sudden demise, he did manage to find a few bottles in a shop in Soho. So what happened to Anchor Steam? The Anchor brewery dates back to 1896 when Anchor Steam was first produced (they call themselves ‘America’s first craft brewery’), but the ‘steam beer’ they brewed may go back to the Gold Rush days. This is the taste of this city, like brewing the fog, as San Francisco as clam chowder and cable cars. In 2017 they were bought out by Japanese corporate giants Sapporo, and in July 2023 they announced that they would stop producing Anchor Steam beer. My hopes that there would be some sort of turnaround on that decision have been dashed, as the brewery has now closed, although apparently the workers were hoping that they could turn it into a more independent co-op. A sad day for the city, a decision made thousands of miles away by people looking at the bottom line, rather than the bottom of the glass (that analogy does not work). So I toasted the death of one of my favourite beers.

I had a long while before my Amtrak back to Davis, so I toasted it a couple more times in Vesuvio, relocating up to the bar. There was a young couple sat there who had not only not heard the earthquake newsflash that Anchor Steam’s business was going up in smoke, they had never in fact had Anchor Steam at all. They were young, this was probably just an old man’s drink. So they ordered one, which they shared, drinking it from a straw for some fuckin’ reason. A straw? This is no way to treat the last few drops of Anchor Steam. This is literally San Francisco history in this glass, and then it was gone. I sketched a little more as I savoured the last Anchor Steam I will ever drink*, and then started out on the long trip back to Davis.

*It wasn’t actually the last; I was back in the city a couple of weeks later with my family, and had a quick Anchor Steam at the hotel bar before our dinner at the Fog City Diner, but I’m sure that’s probably the last one now. Unless I see it in a shop, or go back to San Francisco again soon, which I might. A couple of days ago the SF Standard did post a list of eight bars where you can still get Anchor Steam; Vesuvio’s was not on that list, nor was Specs. The Anchor ship may finally have sailed. Cheers, and bon voyage.

“Bloody MacKenzie, Turn the Key!”

August 8, 2023August 8, 20236 Comments

A must-see spot in Edinburgh for ghost hunters (or ghost hunted?) is Greyfriars Kirkyard. I went there twice. The second time was early on our final morning in the city, when I got up and walked across the old town until I reached the statue of Greyfriars Bobby, outside the Greyfriars Bobby pub. If I had heard of Greyfriars Bobby before, I don’t remember it, but I probably assumed he was some sort of policeman, maybe one that wandered the spooky graveyard in the foggy night looking out for graverobbers and ghouls. No, it turns out Greyfriars Bobby is a dog, a wee little pooch, and Disney even made a film about him. The story goes that the wee Bobby was the dog of a local policeman, a little Skye Terrier who was so loyal to his master that when the man died and was buried in the kirkyard around Greyfriars Kirk, Bobby would guard his grave every night for about fourteen years. Greyfriars Bobby, as he became known locally, eventually died in January of 1872 (thereby missing the first ever Scotland v England international football match by eleven months). Such was Bobby’s celebrity, a small fountain was commissioned by Lady Burdett-Coutts, president of the Ladies Committee of the RSPCA, topped with a little statue of Bobby sculpted by William Brodie. It was unveiled in November 1873 (almost exactly a year since that first Scotland v England international football match, which ended 0-0 by the way). I had to add Bobby to my sketchbook, and I added the eponymous pub in the background so that you know his name (the pub I think came later, and in those days they did not show international football on TVs in pubs, due to the lack of international football, plus the lack of TVs what with them not being invented, though a Scotsman would later fix that too). You will notice that Bobby has a very shiny nose. If you ever saw him you might even say it glows. This is because of a very silly tradition that tourists have, perhaps told by silly guides in years gone by, that if you touch Bobby’s nose you will have good luck, because (and you have to say this in a Scottish accent) obviously that makes loads of fuckin’ sense, doesn’t it. The problem has got so bad that the statue is in danger of being permanently damaged, so locals have taken to making up stories of bad luck that will befall people that rub Bobby’s nose, and those stories I might actually believe. One thing we do not want is for Bobby’s nose to come off, because the absolute last thing Edinburgh needs are endless jokes from its tour guides about how Edinburgh’s dog has no nose, “how does it smell?”, “reeky!”, etc and so on. So people please, leave wee Bobby’s nose alone.

Speaking of tours, the first visit we had to spooky Greyfriars was the very night before, when we took the ‘City of the Dead’ walking tour. This started outside St. Giles Cathedral on the Royal Mile, I sketched the little scene above while we awaited our tour group to assemble. We were met by our guide, a man dressed all in theatrical black with a spooky hat adorned with black flowers and crow’s wings,, round glasses, charcoal coloured paint around the eyes, and unnerving milky-white lenses in his eyes. He reminded me at first of the Crow Man from Worzel Gummidge, but with his white beard he also looked a bit like Terry Pratchett. He gave us an illustrative tour of the old town, full of ghosts yes but mostly full of bodies. Some of the stories were long, detailed and very gruesome, especially those concerning the infamous Old Tolbooth. We then moved through the city towards Greyfriars Kirkyard. It was not yet dark – it’s late June in Scotland, no chance – so we didn’t feel completely spooked out yet. Still the light was getting gloomy and the Kirkyard, packed with weatherworn graves, gnarly trees and mossy old monuments, was the perfect stage for this storytelling. It was also full of other guided tour groups, many from the Harry Potter realm. Greyfriars was a favourite thinking spot for JK Rowling as she came up with ideas for the Potter books, and she would write in a cafe just up the road from here. Many of the graves have names familiar to Potter fans, such as McGonagall (who was actually a poet, apparently a very bad one), James Potter, and the one everyone comes to see, Tom Riddle. It’s actually ‘Thomas Riddell’ but that’s close enough. On our tour, however, we were in for a very ‘real’ bit of spookiness. We were here for the infamous poltergeist, Bloody MacKenzie.

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George MacKenzie, aka ‘Bloody’ MacKenzie, was the enforcer of King Charles II’s punishment and persecution of the Covenanters in the late 1600s. He imprisoned about 1200 Covenanters – Presbyterians who supported the National Covenant in Scotland resisting Charles I’s changes to the Scottish Kirk – in a little field next to Greyfriars Kirkyard, in terrible cramped conditions, with so many either starving to death or being executed that George MacKenzie gained that ‘Bloody’ (or ‘Bluidy’ in Scots) nickname. MacKenzie died in 1691 in Westminster, but he was ultimately buried at a mausoleum right here in Greyfriars, mere feet away from where so many of his victims were imprisoned. Now here’s the thing. His ghost is not only said to haunt this place, but it’s been well documented in recent times. I won’t tell all the stories here, but a lot of people have encountered the dreaded MacKenzie Poltergeist. As our guide told us (after locking us into the ‘Covenanters Prison’ area; only official guides can access this part), many people have encountered this spirit, often feeling a strange presence or the sense of being attacked, or getting home the next day and discovering strange scratches on their body. It was getting gloomy when we entered one of the more sinister feeling tombs, where at the end of the 1990s a homeless man apparently encountered the restless spirit and started a new wave of hauntings. Our guide told us his tales. As he did, an American lady stood at the back of the tomb was becoming increasingly freaked out, interrupting him every minute or so to say that she felt something pressing down on her forehead, as if being pushed back. I thought she was going to faint. While I like the stories, I don’t really believe in ghosts being actually ‘real’ (though I will get shivers down my spine and feel very creeped out), but she certainly did and it was real enough for her. Our guide did a good job though not to freak her out more, but he performed a parlor trick to show us that Bloody MacKenzie can at least turn a huge iron key that was placed in the palm of his hand, making us all recite “Bloody MacKenzie! Turn the Key!” in the dim light while watching this key magically turn of its own accord. It was entertaining; as the guide said at the end, that’s just a wee bit of fun. Still, the American lady was sticking with this ghost tale. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Does anyone have any AirPods on right now?” Um, no I don’t think so, people mumbled. “Some AirPods have just tried to connect to my iPhone! This has never happened before. That’s so weird. What’s causing that? Is anyone else having this happen?” We were in a literal tomb at night. “Well the poltergeist can sometimes have an effect on electronics,” our guide said reassuringly. The lady was utterly convinced, Bloody MacKenzie was trying to connect his Bloody AirPods to her iPhone. As I wondered what music he might make her listen to, the theme from Rentaghost just popped into my head, mysteriously. (There was a Scottish ghost in Rentaghost too wasn’t there, Hazel McWitch?) It was a fun evening of spooky stories, and it was dark when we walked back to our apartment, our last night in Edinburgh.

So I woke up next morning and came back to Greyfriars, drawing Bobby, and then coming in to explore in the damp morning light. Of course I had to draw MacKenzie’s mausoleum. I wasn’t too worried about being attacked by a poltergeist, or getting mysterious scratches on my arms, or even of having random bagpipe music commandeer my AirPods, though I was a bit nervous of getting eaten by midges, the biggest terror in Scotland as everyone knows. I drew the tomb safe from any supernatural danger, and went home for our final Edinburgh breakfast. We were off to Glasgow that day.

Edinburgh Old Town – a wee bit more

August 7, 2023August 7, 20233 Comments

I am glad we stayed in the Old Town of Edinburgh, among all those tall sandstone tenement buildings, just steps away from the Royal Mile. So this Royal Mile, what exactly is it? Well it is a long stretch of connected streets that slope downwards from Edinburgh Castle, sitting at the top of a 300 million year old volcano, all the way down towards Holyrood Palace (the official residence of the British monarch in Scotland), as well as the area where now the Scottish Parliament can be found. It was likely part of what was left over by a retreating ice sheet thousands of years ago. Along the way, if you can see past all the cashmere shops and whisky tasting shops and stores selling little Nessies with tartan hats on, are storybooks full of history both bloody and noble, pubs spilling out music and English stag parties, upon cobblestones haunted by the ghosts of so many dead Fringe plays that got bad reviews in The Scotsman. I walked one morning round to a building we really loved the look of, the Tolbooth Tavern. I never went into this tavern, but I knew I wanted to draw it. I got a can of Irn Bru (Tropical Irn Bru to be precise, it had a flamingo on the can), stood outside a shop selling tartan scarves or little wooden cows or something, and had to turn my landscape sketchbook very much into portrait mode to fit it all in. Edinburgh is tall and it’s worth getting the tops of these buildings. I didn’t feel like painting the whole thing, but added just enough that you can imagine the rest of the brickwork. This building was once the Canongate Tolbooth, originally dating from from 1591. It’s probably haunted, because why not, everywhere else is.

One of my absolutely favourite memories form our trip to Edinburgh was getting jacket potatoes from Tempting Tattie. This was about a block away from us on Jeffrey Street, and even thinking about it makes me feel hungry from some delicious buttery jacket spuds. Tempting Tatties had some fantastic toppings – I got a huge one with loads of cheese and baked beans on it, pure comfort food for not very much money. My wife got the one topped with Coronation Chicken, that was delicious. I got another next day topped with Chicken Tikka Masala, also very tasty. If I lived in Edinburgh I would need to be climbing up Arthurs Seat every day to burn of all the calories from the jacket potatoes I’d be eating (all washed down with Irn Bru naturally – though it was the Irn Bru Xtra, the zero-sugar one, that I drank mostly – the tropical version was nice, though I did try an Ice Cream flavour Irn Bru which went very much into the bin, yeuch). I must have visited this Tempting Tatties when we came here in 1999, what with it being close to the place where we put on those shows, but I don’t remember, I mostly ate greasy bags of chips.

One evening following a lot of touristing, my wife and son rested at the hotel while I went out to put some more sketches into my book while the light was good. The John Knox House, just a couple of minutes from our flat, was another of our favourite buildings from along the Royal Mile, and dating from the 1480s is one of the oldest surviving medieval buildings on John Knox was the founder of the Scottish Presbyterian Church, leading the Scottish Protestant Reformation back in the 16th century. The ground floor of this building is home to the Scottish Storytelling Centre, which we had a little look around – there were some interesting performances they were hosting that we unfortunately would miss. I’d definitely take a look there before any future trip to Auld Reekie. The little cafe in there also served haggis both meaty and vegetarian. I drew on this light evening (it was after 9pm, still so much daylight) but it started to rain a little, so I sheltered in the covered close directly opposite.

When I was all done, I popped into a pub on the corner – called “No. 1 High Street”, right opposite the busier World’s End where I couldn’t find a table to sit at (they were setting up for some live music in the corner, which I presumed would be one of those traditional Scottish folk nights that Rick Steves and all the guidebooks said I had to experience), and rested my very weary feet. I hadn’t filled in the details on many of those windows yet (repetitive actions like that are often a “do-later” job) so I got to work on that over a nice pint of something cold and Scottish, but of course I can’t stop and always need to draw something new, so I sketched the bar instead. It wasn’t very busy; there was an American couple in, sat next to a couple of young lads from Northern Ireland (with strong and amazing accents), who were there for some farmworkers conference. The young lady at the bar was from the north of England and very conversational with them, and even had a look through my sketchbook, being an artist herself. The Americans I think were from Texas, apparently they met on a TV show, and one of the young lads asked if they have cowboys in Texas. Nearby an older Scottish man chatted with the owner, it was a friendly little place. It didn’t get dark until about 11pm. I walked back to the flat as they were closing, pretty tired, but at least I finally got a Scottish bar sketch from the inside. Walking past the World’s End, the music being played wasn’t quite folk music, more of the generic singer-songwriter variety, so I’m glad I didn’t stand to wait for it, though it sounded nice enough. At least it wasn’t bagpipes. I know it’s an odd thing to admit when I’m touristing around Scotland, but I don’t really like the sound of bagpipes much…

bull’n’mouth

July 28, 2023July 27, 2023Leave a comment

My first time out of the house after we got back from the UK, spending a week indoors sick, I felt pretty good on the Sunday afternoon so I cycled downtown to do a sketch. I drew on E Street, the view of the former De Vere’s Irish pub, the best place to sketch and have a pint, which closed shortly after reopening in 2021 after the pandemic-enforced closure. They had just repainted all the outside into a nice new red – I sketched it in June 2021 – but it didn’t last too long, and they decided not to renew their lease, and focus on other things. Big shame for Davis, but time moves along. We heard there was going to be another bar opening in its place called Bull’n’Mouth, but this was being said for so long with no sign of any new pub that I was starting to think it was a load of, well. Then as I passed by I saw that doors had finally opened on this new place, though on this Sunday afternoon it was closed. It seemed that the opening hours were still pretty limited, starting at 4pm, and not every day. I think they are starting to open for lunch now, I heard this week; I’ve not actually been in there yet. So I decided to draw it, with the new sign up. Didn’t colour it in, but it did me good to get out with my sketchbook, document more change in this town.

Afternoon at the Nags

July 19, 2023July 19, 20232 Comments

After spending the day in South Ken and Knightsbridge, I sought out another place I have not been to in over two decades. The Nags Head, in a quiet back road behind the busy Knightsbridge, was an old favourite place of mine in the late 90s, where I would go with my friends Rob (a mate from university), and Nick (an old schoolfriend of Rob, whose family lived in an apartment steps away from the pub). It’s an old place, stock full with interesting decoration, like a step into another world. And it had not changed in all this time. The landlord Kevin Moran was there; I remember him from all those years ago, and I had a nice chat with him while sat inside the pub, cooling off from the very hot weather outside. He was telling me of his various travels. When I first came by, I actually started to do a sketch outside, with the intention of finishing that and coming in to cool off, but I was already so warm that I did only the outline outside, stood in the narrow street in the sunshine. There was a group of South African lads outside (not pictured in the sketch); when I was waiting to order a pint I heard one say to Mr Moran, while pointing out a sketch of the pub that was hanging on the wall, that he saw another artist outside doing a drawing a bit like this. There were about two or three different sketches of the pub on the walls, inside and outside. I said, “Yeah that was me!” and showed them what I’d done already. The music was nice in there, very relaxing, and Mr. Moran chatted with his customers, and would ask how people were doing, sometimes popping out for a chat with the South African lads. I sketched the inside as I drank my cold beer, sat in a little corner I have a photo of me sitting in back in about 1999. I remember spending new year’s eve 2001-2002 in here, one of the last times I visited, and a Canadian friend Ben (who I lived with for a short while in France; I was back visiting from Aix at the time) was with me and entertaining people with card tricks, being a magician. No cellphones allowed in here still; back in those days only a few of us had them, and I never liked using them much anyway, but still funny to see the same sign. I chatted for a while with another old regular called David, a well-travelled man who loves London but was reassuring that I’d done the right thing by moving to California, because California is pretty great (and I agree). I showed Mr. Moran the sketch afterwards and he liked it, and later on I finished off the outside drawing as well. It was really nice to find this place again; without the modern GPS on my phone, I think I may have struggled to remember where it was.

This last sketch below was drawn very close by on Knightsbridge, the top of the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park hotel. It’s a pretty glorious building, though I was getting tired of drawing and left it at the roof and the speckled May sky. I’m fairly sure I’ve been into the bar there before with Rob and his pals, back in those late 90s. Hyde Park Corner has some of the most expensive hotels in London. I did pop into Harrods nearby for a little bit, to take a look around the Food Court, but I didn’t stay long as I needed to get to my sister’s place by Grahame Park, Colindale, for dinner, and then back home for a late night Zoom meeting with California (that finished at 1am my time…). I was pretty tired after a day of sketching and stepping back in time, but it was well worth it.

man city v madrid at the mixer

July 15, 2023July 13, 2023Leave a comment

While in London I was doing a fair bit of remote work, which was usually done in the late afternoon and into the evening (and occasionally into the wee hours after midnight, since California time is eight hour behind London time). On one day I worked throughout the afternoon and had an early evening meeting which happened to finish around the same time as the Champions League semi-final was beginning. Back in California I might have (a) cycled home to watch it over some lunch, (b) sneekily put it on my iPad and watched in the meeting, or (c) not really cared that much since it’s not Tottenham playing. On this evening I fell more into the third category, since the meeting ran into the game time and I couldn’t bring it up on my mum’s TV anyway, but I had a feeling it might be an interesting game – Real Madrid vs Manchester City – so after the Zoom meeting ended I decided to go out and watch at least the second half at a pub if I could. I wasn’t sure where; I don’t know which pubs show football any more, and I didn’t really want to go to any pubs in Burnt Oak. I jumped on the tube, thought about Hendon, I remembered watching a football match in a big pub there (wait that was in 1996), considered Golders Green, again wasn’t sure, so I just headed to Camden. I knew the Earl of Camden showed football, so I headed there. Thing is, I don’t really like that pub much, it’s always a bit uncomfortable and packed. And it was too – nowhere to sit, screens in awkward places, there was a guy in a 1998 Real Madrid away shirt which was cool but other than that, I didn’t fancy it. The first half was just ending so I thought, look for somewhere else. I didn’t expect the Good Mixer would be showing it, but I passed by on my way to the High Street and sure enough, they had it on in there, and it wasn’t full of big football lads. I like the Mixer, it was always one of my favourite places to hang out in the 90s and early 2000s, me and Terry used to go an play pool there (well, he would play pool, I would lose once and then sit there watching him beat everyone for a couple of hours). I found a seat with a good view and watched City completely demolish Madrid in a “please make them stop!” sort of way. It was a bit like watching Terry play people at pool. (I remember one night, I think it was at the King’s Head in Crouch End, this cocky guy challenged him to a game of pool, the guy had a special expensive pool cue in a hard case, he got it out and was polishing it and chalking it, and gestured to Terry as a joke if he wanted to borrow his cue; Terry declined and picked up probably the shittest pub cue from the rack, and proceeded to wipe the floor with him, the guy didn’t pot a single ball. He then beat him a few more times in clinical fashion, I just remember the guy standing there furiously chalking his cue waiting for a go.) Real Madrid were taken apart, although in this case City have the most expensive cues and the hard cases. I sketched the pub in my little Stillman and Birn Alpha mini book, just a quick one in Pigma Graphic pen and what waetrcolours I brought with me (a small set of about five colours in a tiny stormtrooper-helmet tin, fits into my pocket easily). It’s one of my favourite bar sketches though, it captures the mood well. The game ended, some people celebrated (it’s an English team getting to a major European final, albeit one funded by a rich nation state), I remembered my old friend Rob who supported Man City back in the 90s when they were pretty crap (though they had amazing Kappa kits), and how this is for those fans who put up with all that back then. I went to the little chip shop next to the tube station where I’d always get my chips on the way home, and headed back to bed.

the railway tavern

July 14, 2023July 13, 20232 Comments

Here is another sketch from my home area of north London. This is the Railway Tavern, which is up Hale Lane, which is in Edgware, or is it Mill Hill, or can we even say Burnt Oak? It’s kind of all three, and none of them. We used to call this area ‘Green Man’, people probably still do, because of the large old pub on the corner of Hale Lane and Dean’s Lane, which was the Green Man. On maps I think this area gets called ‘Hale’ or ‘The Hale’ though people rarely say that out loud (the name goes back to the 13th century). I think of it as Edgware, really. It’s near enough to the main part of Edgware, and technically Burnt Oak is Edgware too, though we all know different. My address growing up was ‘Burnt Oak, Edgware, Middlesex’, yet we were in London (Greater London, the big urbanized county, Zone 4 on the Underground) because Middlesex no longer actually existed. Our postcodes for Edgware and Burnt Oak are holdovers from the pre-Greater London era, being HA8 (confusingly the HA is for Harrow, we are in the Borough of Barnet), while nearby Colindale and the more countrified Mill Hill got London postcodes (NW9 and NW7 respectively). Never try to make sense of London postcodes by the way. You get ‘NW’ (north-west, easy), N (north), W (west), E (east) SW (south-west), SE (south-east), BUT no ‘S’ for South, and no ‘NE’ for north-east. You do get EC and WC for the cities of London and Westminster but don’t think they all correspond exactly. I remember the jingle from the old 1980s adverts, “Pass On Your Postcode, You’re Not Properly Addressed Without It!” Then there was the phone code – 01 for London, that’s what made sense, we were all in that. Then they decided no wait, let’s change that up a bit, you people on the inside can be 071, you lot around the edges can be 081. Then they phoned back a few years ago, wait wait, I’m not done yet, make that 0171 and 0181, yes that makes more sense. Then they phone back a few years later, wait wait wait, let’s make that 0207 and 0208, ok we are definitely done now. Then they said no wait, we have some more changes to make. By then everyone was like, sorry, they have invented mobile phones now, we don’t care. London eh. But this is the Railway Tavern, and where exactly is it? Well the postcode says NW7, so it’s officially in Mill Hill, that settles it. Their website however says they are in ‘the heart of Edgware town’ which is quite interesting. ‘Up Hale Lane’, that’s all that matters. Besides, there was another tavern called The Railway in Edgware near the station, which closed many years ago (the historic building is still there, being allowed to fall to pieces; I drew it eight years ago: https://petescully.com/2016/01/14/the-end-of-the-railway/). This pub however is still open, which is good to see. I actually have never been in here as an adult, but came in several times as a kid with my family. It was a good pub to bring the kids to, because there was a good garden out the back which had swings, and there were always other local kids to play with. I remember kicking one of those plastic footballs around here when I was about 11, and it kept going into a neighbouring garden, while parents drank in the pub inside. Those days always remind me of the taste of Coca-Cola in a glass bottle, not very cold, and salt and vinegar crisps. I thought about coming up to this pub in the evening while I was back to draw the inside, but didn’t get around to it. I have wanted to draw the outside for years though, I really like the shape of this building. I love a triangle.

Why is it called The Railway Tavern though? There is no rail line nearby (the closest being way down at Mill Hill Broadway), and it’s not by a tube station, which is a good mile away down at Edgware. Well, actually there used to be a rail line near here, passing through Dean’s Lane down the hill, going between Edgware and Mill Hill East. When we were kids it was long closed down, and the area was known as the Old Bomb, I presumed it had been bombed in the war and never rebuilt. In fact they did originally plan to have a line that ran between Mill Hill East, passing through this way and not only up to Edgware but well beyond, but it was never built. Ever wondered why there’s that bit of the Northern Line that squiggles out to Mill Hill East for some reason? Jay Foreman’s excellent Unfinished London video explains this whole thing much better than I can: https://youtu.be/jjuD288JlCs. The pub does apparently date back to the 1890s, but I think the building is later than that. This page on the London Borough of Barnet website gives a little history of the are called The Hale, and it mentions the ‘Railway Inn’. Next time I’m back, I should pop in for a pint.

mile end afternoon

July 10, 2023July 9, 2023Leave a comment

I was done pretty early with exploring Queen Mary University of London on my first day back in Mile End in over 20 years. I walked round the corner to Burdett Road, and decided to draw this old building that was mostly boarded up, I do remember using the post office back in the late 90s. I didn’t live in Mile End while I was at university, I stayed back home in Burnt Oak, so I would commute in on the tube. I knew quite a few people who did decide to live locally, or a bit further out, and there would always be parties in those days. I took a lot of Night Buses as well, the old N25. Fall asleep on that, it bounces you back from Trafalgar Square right out into like Essex or somewhere. I stood by Mile End Park to draw this, but only got as far as the outline, because I was getting hot, so I drew most of it later on. I had another part of Mile End to look for.

A couple of years ago my wife (who is American) and I were looking at this impressive family tree document that her great aunt had put together many years before, and I noticed that there was a ‘Sir’ on there, Sir William Morgan, Earl of Tredegar. It was exciting to discover, and it turns out the Morgans are a pretty storied family, both from their Welsh aristocracy days, through the British Civil Wars and subsequently those that emigrated to the US and became big names in the fledgling country (founding the city of Springfield MA for one thing). In short, it turned out my wife had some pretty interesting ancestors, the Earls of Tredegar, and then all of a sudden I started seeing that name everywhere (we even chanced upon William Morgan of Tredegar’s memorial in Westminster Abbey last month). Pretty much the same day we were looking all of this up, my friend Simon (an actor and and former QMUL alumnus) told me about a film he’d just appeared in, Once Upon A Time in London, so I watched that, looking out for him. One of big scenes involved being beaten up in a pub, anyway right afterwards the gangsters involved walked out of the pub and it was called “The Lord Tredegar”, of course. I had to look up the pub – and it was in Mile End, very close to “Tredegar Square” and “Morgan Street”. Presumably the family had owned land round here. Well I found the pub – it’s in quite a nice part of Mile End, some impressive old houses around here – though it was closed, so I drew the outside, although I didn’t bother finishing all the colour later. A block away, there was a lovely post-box dating from Queen Victoria’s reign, which I drew with the Morgan Street sign in the background. This was right by Tredegar Square.

I was done with exploring Mile End, and decided to head back into central London, but I saved one last very quick sketch for Mile End tube station. This is where I’d come in and out every day while at university, after an hour-long packed tube ride from Burnt Oak. Another tube station sketch for the collection, I think I expected more stories to come flooding out of this one, but not really. I do remember one thing, it’s opposite the Territorial Army (TA) centre. Back when I was doing Richard III in early 1998, I was charged with arranging for props for the production, and asked for a bunch of army materials, including an army table. How I thought I could do that given that I had no car or means of transporting it, I do not know, but I was resourceful enough. There’s a big TA centre in Burnt Oak near where I lived, so I went there and kindly asked to borrow some equipment. To my surprise they said yeah sure, just bring it back. I got lots of army cups and hats and things like that, and a table, a big heavy green wooden table. Like, really heavy, like impossible to actually carry heavy. Carry it I did, halfway down Deansbrook Road, like an idiot. I would have called my dad, if we lived in the era of the mobile phone, but we did not just yet. I think I ended up leaving it, coming home, and then having one of my parents come and help me get it in the car. And I was going to bring this to Mile End to use in a play? What, on the tube? That wasn’t happening. I felt a bit stupid, but I had the other props, Richard III was just going to have to make do with a regular table to plan his battle with Richmond. Anyway the next day I came to Mile End station, walked out and immediately saw the TA Centre across the street, which I had hitherto never noticed. I didn’t bother going to ask them if I could use a table, I’d give myself a bad back carrying that, I’d end up looking more like Richard III myself. So, I do think of that when I think of Mile End station.

monday evening in covent garden

July 7, 2023July 7, 2023Leave a comment

Later that day – sorry, I realize several weeks passed by in between writing the posts for my London sketches from Monday May 15th, but I had another trip back to London in June, which included an eight-day trip to Scotland, and now suddenly we are a week into July and my ears are still ringing from the plane – anyway, later that day, I walked over to Covent Garden to do some more sketching. The previous Saturday night I had spent a very fun evening out around here with my old friends Roshan and Frenchie, which involved many laughs during dinner, ending up at the Nag’s Head pub which features in the background of both of my sketches here. Incidentally this is not the only Nag’s Head pub that I would sketch on that trip in May, but the other one will be posted later. I decided to take up position opposite Covent Garden tube station (one of the beautiful oxblood-tiled Leslie Green tube stations), to draw a two-page panorama, which I like to do. There were a lot of people around, being about 5pm on a Monday. In the place where I sketched there happened to be a group of Hare Krishnas who were out chasing people up and down Long Acre asking “have you thought about meditation?” One of them was very enthusiastic, following people like an eager salesman. Nearby, those pedal-cab things were congregating as they do. People were out shopping, this is one of the best shopping areas of the city. One of my favourite shops, Stanfords (they sell maps and travel books) is very close by. Posters advertised musicals like Frozen and Mrs Doubtfire: the musical. I swear, going by all the posters I saw in London, there is nothing that city will not turn into a musical. I’m waiting for “Urban Sketching: The Musical”. Taxis pulled up, letting people in and out, on their way to see a musical probably. People hurried by me on the pavement to get to wherever they were going. I used to be one of those people; I would pass by this corner on my run (I would literally be running) from the 134 bus stop down to the King’s College campus, when I was doing my Master’s in medieval English almost two decades ago. Now, I just focused on my sketch, on all that perspective. I think I had intended to make this full colour, and I had the time and the daylight, although after a while not so much of the energy, so I left it as is. Getting the sky in was important. It was a really lovely mid-May day, the sort where standing out on a London street is pretty much the right thing to do. I was in no hurry, I did not need to be back anywhere, I had no plans. But I was getting hungry, so I went to a nearby Pho place and had a delicious big bowl of pho. I’m going to put a picture of it here just to make you hungry.

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And then I went to Floral Street, and did one last sketch of the day, a block over from where I did the first. I stood outside the White Lion pub, looking towards the Nag’s Head again (in the top sketch the Nag’s Head is in the far bottom left of the scene). There were many drinkers outside the pubs; again I had intended to colour this in, going as far as adding in some yellow blotches for the flowers, but in the end I didn’t have time and didn’t fancy adding it in at home, as I was a bit tired. I didn’t stop into either pub though; instead I went over to the Lamb and Flag for a quick pint before grabbing some food from Tesco Metro and getting the tube home to bed. A very productive day of London urban sketching.

from tottenham court road, down charing cross road

June 16, 2023June 16, 2023Leave a comment

I had another sketching day out down in central London, going down to Tottenham Court Road station on a Monday morning in mid-May. This area has changed so much. This was always my go-to stop when heading down into central, most of the things I wanted to do were near this station. The Virgin Megastore, the big record store on the corner of Oxford St and Tottenham Court Road, I spent a lot of time in there throughout my teens and early twenties, now of course a distant memory. The British Museum is just a short walk from here, I would go there a lot. The Hellfire Club, later ‘Metros’, and other night-time places we’d go like the Astoria, LA2, Plastic People, Borderline, Marquee, all those were right here, all gawn now. I worked at a chocolate shop (Thorntons) just a little way down Oxford Street, back in 1996. All the music instrument shops at Denmark Street and down Charing Cross Road, some of which are gone, some still remain, all right here. Charing Cross Road itself, I loved all the bookstores down there but I loved Foyles the most. There is still a Foyles and it’s still big, but it’s not in the same place, it’s a little further down, and very clean and well organized. The Foyles I remember was massive but everything was crammed in, literally, and the upstairs was a labyrinthine jumble, and I’d go there looking through all the books on language and travel, I loved it. Now I pop into the current Foyles to see if they have any of my books (they didn’t). And then there’s the tube station, which before was a claustrophobic little station with secret passages and loads of different exits, which was always fun when saying “meet me outside the entrance to Tottenham Court Road”, a rookie mistake. Now, with the Elizabeth Line which brought so much architectural change to this corner of London, the newer version of the station is much bigger, modern, with spacious exits including a large one outside Center Point, which is where I stood to draw the sketch above. I looked north-west to the rooftops that haven’t changed at all, with the interesting blue and cloudy London sky above it. At ground level, a pub called The Flying Horse, which was called The Tottenham when I was younger, often called the only pub on Oxford Street (which is true, other pubs are just off it). There’s a shop next door called BasicMart now, which wasn’t there before and is quite handy to grab a chocolate bar and a fizzy drink when peckish, and seems to be open all hours, as I discovered when coming home late one Saturday evening (on the ‘Night Tube’! You can now get a tube in the wee hours right back up to Burnt Oak from here, a zipping 30 minute trip rather than wait for the packed, slow and usually awful Night Bus). Along those rooftops, I always liked that little golden dome. All the bits in between, all the windows and details, I was going to draw but decided not to spend the time doing so, it looked better in that unfinished state, let the mind fill in the gaps, I drew the bit I wanted to. Time to get moving. I wasn’t going far, just spending the day walking about an area I love. It was a day off, I wasn’t planning to do any remote work that evening (the time difference with California means I did a bit of evening work on this trip, a few meetings and such). So I headed down to Denmark Street, and spent a lot of time playing guitars.

Around the corner from Denmark Street is New Oxford Street (it runs up to Oxford Street and drops the ‘New’ bit when it reaches that junction with Tottenham Court Road and Charing Cross Road) (we have to say the whole names of streets in London, it’s not like San Francisco where you’d just say “Market” or “Columbus”, though we do have a lot of one-name streets in London such as “Piccadilly”, “Lothbury” or “Strand” (not “The” Strand, though we are allowed to add a “The”) (imagine saying “The Piccadilly” though! You’d be laughed all the way to the M25, which by the way is just called “M25” but we say “The M25” or “That bloody M25”). The thing I wanted to drawn on New Oxford Street is James Smith & Sons, a famed and historic umbrella shop, established in 1830. It’s one of those old London gems that will hopefully always be here. I mean, it’s never going to stop raining, is it? Maybe with global warming and dryer summers, but come on this is Britain. Sure, many Londoners will always be like, I don’t need an umbrella, and that’s how I was when I lived there. Umbrellas were more trouble than they were worth, once you got on the tube or bus and folded them up, they would just be dripping everywhere, so I rarely carried one, but I must admit umbrellas are useful. Plus it’s what we British people look like in films isn’t it, an umbrella and a bowler hat. I’ve always wanted to draw the interior, after seeing a great drawing by Karen Neale in her book, London in Landscape. I love those books she produced of London sketches in two-page spreads, especially as I’ve done quite a few myself over the years, it gave me some inspiration to keep that up. Anyway, I stood across the street and leaned on one of those electric boxes you get, perfect leaning height, and drew as much as I could. I had to stop though because my X-Ray vision didn’t extend through double-decker buses. So much traffic on this stretch, so many buses stopped in front of me, I could only draw about half of this, if that, before giving up and going somewhere else. So I drew in the rest later. The people were drawn pretty early on, and that woman passing by did have a red poncho, and that person at the lights was wearing a little red scarf, so I was like right, matching those into the big red ‘umbrellas’ sign. I should have drawn a red bus in the way too.

I cut down an alley and reappeared in Charing Cross Road, opposite Foyles. I walked down to where Macari’s Musical Instruments used to be, until it closed a few years ago. I loved that shop, it’s where I bought my current acoustic guitar, back in the tail end of 1996 while I was on my break at Thorntons. I had been wanting an acoustic for years, only having my old electric, and I saw this one, a Hohner, which was not very expensive but had a lovely dark matte wood colour and a lovely dark matte wood tone, and I knew this was the one. It still is the one, I brought it out to America a couple of years after moving here, back when it was a bit easier to just bring your big guitar into the main cabin of the plane. Well Macari’s is gone. I wanted to draw the green stripy building across the street, the one above the Harmony adult store. I might have sketched it before but I don’t remember, though another artist I follow, Liam Farrell, did an amazing oil painting of it a few years back, and then another one in watercolour. I have drawn the pub opposite, on the corner of Old Compton Street (a street by the way which it is perfectly acceptable to just call “Old Compton”, I guess, without people laughing you to the M25). Last time I drew it though it was still called Molly Moggs.

Further down Charing Cross Road, towards Leicester Square tube station, are the few remaining old bookstores. I first went into Fopp, a store that sells these old things called ‘CDs’ and ‘DVDs’ which people used to use before everything became instantaneously available to us at all times with no surprises. I was amazed to see it still there, it was a thing that rose up from the days when the Virgin Megastores all fell. I also popped into the Orc’s Nest, a little games shop that has been there for many years, and with the popularity of modern board games I was glad to see doing well. I remember buying a little metal minifigure here of ‘Death’, the character form the Terry Pratchett books, back when I was about 18. They didn’t have any this time. So I walked down to see if the old bookshops were still there, and there they are, the token bookshops, probably allowed to remain in existence so Charing Cross Road, historically London’s old bookshop street, could still pretend to be so. Most of the other shops here are basically the 21st century writ large, so these old shops stand out. I didn’t go into any as I didn’t need any old books for anything, but I did remember coming here with my friend Tel (mentioned in previous posts), we were about 17 maybe, and out exploring London, going to the National Gallery and Chinatown. I was into buying second hand books then, I would read a lot, but he decided that he wanted to buy a bunch of books cheap to put on his shelf “so that girls would think he read a lot”. (I never let him forget that! But hey, when we are teenagers that’s what it’s all about, see also me playing the guitar). So he bought about 20 or 30 books, can’t have spent more than about a tenner tops, and I had to help him carry them in flimsy carrier bags all around central London. None of the books were ones he would ever actually read, mostly cheap fantasy or sci-fi, but we lugged them all back up on the Northern Line to his old bedroom. It’s funny, eventually he became a buyer and seller of books, many of them rare and valuable that he would find in old stores or in auctions or online, and I think back to that afternoon carrying around all those cheap books, that’s probably where that started. Anyway back to 2023. I decided to draw this one shop, Any Amount Of Books, while traffic slowly ambled past blocking my view. At one point, a huge white van did stop in front of the shop for an extended period, at which point I just abandoned it and went off to Covent Garden, finishing the rest of the details, the brickwork and all that hatching, while eating some dinner. I still had a fair bit of sketching left to do that day which I’ll put in another post, but this was my walk down Memory Lane (actually it’s called Old Memory Road, you’d better get it right).