onionbagblog

* yeah yeah, I know…

And so after all the waiting, does the new Windrush Square in central Brixton live up to the high expectations?

Sort of.

It’s a definite improvement on the ill-conceived geographic placement of disparate public space that was in place previously. But it’s not perfect.

First of all, let’s deal with the dynamics of the geography. Brixton needs a recognised central area. We need somewhere to meet, to celebrate and to generally reclaim as a public piece of land in the heart of SW9.

The new pedestiranised area incorporates the Tate Gardens and the old Windrush Square. The hellish one way gyratory around St Matthews Church has been removed.

I have severe reservations however about the safety of cyclists as they progress either up or down Brixton Hill. The single cycling lane is going to cause problems when you try and make a turning, and have to cut across the traffic flow from either side.

The landscaping of the Square also leaves me somewhat under whelmed. It looks like a giant car park has been placed right in the heart of Brixton. The opportunity was here to make this a genuine green space. The old Tate Gardens area remains thankfully grassed over, but that’s about your lot.

The provision of extra bicycling racks outside the Tate Library is to be applauded. I remain unconvinced if this will eventually become a trusted area in which to leave a bicycle. The Ritzy is known locally as a hot spot for bike theft. Brixton Rec at least has some use as probably the safest places for Brixton bicyclists to padlock up.

The naming of the new space is perfect. With the (hopefully) soon to be opened Black Cultural Archives overlooking the area, Brixton has a positive identity to take us forward beyond the old stereotypes.

But for all the ‘empowering’ talk of regeneration that is so often found in council press releases, some things just won’t budge. One of these is the closed public toilet beneath ground.

The ornate railings give the area a sense of tradition and perspective. Having them closed off is a sad incitement for modern times. The council press release covers all bases, by rather blandly stating:

“…with potentially a new cafe and public toilets.”

Never rule anything in, never rule anything out. Especially ahead of the local elections.

And so that is the theory, what about the grand opening of this major public project? I couldn’t tell you to be honest. It was all really rather strange, with the staging of an elitist opening ceremony involving local politicians from which the public were kept away.

Friday’s official civic opening saw the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, doing the ribbon cutting thing along with @cllrstevereed, the Labour leader of @lambeth_council. My man on the ground with his press pass tells me that both politicians tried their best to forge a smile for the cameras.

But at least the weather Gods were smiling on Brixton. Rain for the ring-fenced civic service on Friday, sunshine for the people on Saturday. The public opening of Windrush Square promised:

“live music performances, dance demonstrations and family art workshops. There will also be stalls by Spacemakers, Brixton Village and the Brixton Pound. The event will conclude with a lantern-lit procession led by local school children and a magnificent Phoenix.”

It didn’t disappoint.

Let the real people that matter into the area, and then the fun can commence. The events were pitched perfectly for the day – a mixture of music and local community stalls.

Maybe the music was rather slightly too loud, which caused a few problems with the @audioboos below. No worries. The event was all about community celebration and participation, and not providing a padded sound studio for a lone local blogger.

I was pleased to see the lovely @dougald promoting @spacemkrs and #brixvill throughout the day. The presence of @spacemakrs working alongside locals in Granville Arcade Brixton Village has been nothing short of brilliant this year. Long may it continue in South London.

If Friday was all about the elected representatives doing their cordoned off bit for the community, then it was pleasing to see an as yet elected representative enjoying the occasion. @chukaumunna, the Labour PPC for Streatham, was once again a friendly face to see in SW9. He very kindly agreed for a catch up. Apologies for the bass heavy soundtrack, but I like to think yer man Chuka would probably approve.

The Friends of Brixton Market seemed to be the busiest stall on the day. The group is promoting the importance of local business for the local economy. A popularly held misconception (including by me) is that the whole of Brixton Market development is owned and managed by Lambeth Council.

Not so. Ben from the Friends group helpfully explains more below, including the very real threat of big business coming into our community and killing off the local economy. Westfield in SW9 is something we most definitely don’t want in Brixton.

And then finally I was most grateful to Suzy, one of the Brixton £ founders, for finding the time to have a chat. The B£ is booming, with many local shops now accepting it as the norm.

To my shame, I haven’t endorsed the B£ as much as I should. I don’t tend to shop in Brixton that often. Maybe this is the whole point of the local currency, to encourage people like me to make very real economic decisions that will be benefit the local people?

I cycled back to Sunny Stockwell late in the day, having found a real sense of community around Windrush Square. It was great to catch up with @brixtonalex, @brixtonblog and @andybroomfield. Sorry to have missed @langrabbie and @@lambethcpcg.

To be fair, @mayoroflambeth and @cllrstevereed (and others) returned on Saturday to mix with the public. I appreciated my chat with the leader of the council, and I thank him for being approachable. I left the good councillor pondering the question of how to find a central square for Sunny Stockwell.

The real success of Windrush Square won’t be judged until six months from now. What we need is one of those balmy Brixton summers. The whole area comes out to play in the heart of SW9. Seeing how the space can cope with this demand, and how the civic planning plays a part in influencing the social behaviour of locals will be the real test.

Will the street drinkers and blatant drug dealing be moved on? And if so, where to? It would be great to see the public toilets once again re-opened, and being used purely for the purpose for which they were originally designed.

Are we really a less civil society than some one hundred years ago when they were first built? Hopefully Windrush Square will play a part in helping to dispell this pessimism.

Day 16 of the Privatisation of Leisure in the Rotten Borough, and are the new arrangements at Brixton Rec starting to bed down?

Are they b*****ks.

Swim London members were given assurances at the Users Forum to announce the closure of Clap’ham Pool that all GLL membership cards would be transferable. Simply swipe your card at Brixton, and Bob’s yer uncle.

But I haven’t got an uncle called Bob. I haven’t even got an Aunty called Robert, either.

If the 7 – 9am only swimming in SW9 wasn’t bad enough, we now have to suffer the daily embarrassment of being branded a Clap’ham refugee. I arrive bright and early (very early) in Brixton, full of anticipation of my barcode card being swiped.

“Could you try again, please, Sir?”

“Oh, let’s swipe it a little slower.”

“One more time, please, Sir. Sir? Sir…?“

The Brixton Rec smiling receptionists are doing their best under very trying circumstances. The closure both of Clap’ham and St Reatham pools by Labour led Lambeth Council, has led to all Lambeth swimmers now competing for a slot in the two hour time frame in SW9 each morning.

But how b***y difficult can it be to update the GLL records, and update my card, as promised at the Clap’ham Users Closure Forum? That’s the whole point of a Swim LONDON membership, surly? Your card is transferable across all GLL sites. I was certainly led to believe this when I was stung with the hidden costs during the generic online signing up process.

Tuesday morning saw a new twist to the farce of the early morning leisure failure. Three receptionists smiling away, and not a single customer. Cripes – a quick swipe or three and I should be in the pool before chucking out time at 9am.

But nope – I was asked instead to use the fast checkout machine at the side of the reception. I’ve every sympathy for the lovely GLL smiling ladies – the self-service machine is similar to the scab labour sets ups that are on the increase in supermarkets.

My Swim London card has yet to work on a single day since the Privatisation of Leisure by Lambeth Council, and so I was weary of the new approach.

“Don’t worry, Sir. It will be fine.”

And so I swiped, swiped, and swiped again. If at first you don’t succeed, bugger off back to bed and admit defeat. The free market has won, and you might as well turn into a lard arse, rather than try and use your local leisure facilities.

I continued of course, and asked once again for my details to be updated.

“How do we know who you are?”

I would have thought that you have got enough data on me already, seeing as though the direct debit still comes out of my bank account each month.

“Could Sir please try and resolve this membership issue at our Member’s Office?”

“Sure, what time does the office open?”

“9:30.”

Chucking out time at Brixton Rec is 9am. Swimming in a sea of fools.

And so Sunny Stockwell has a s*** hot old skool punk rock boozer right on my doorstep – why has it taken me fifteen years to discover the gloriously anarchic debauchery that takes place at The Governor, SW9? All on a Sunday night as well.

Blimey.

The inaugural Acoustic Insurgency evening was a fundraiser for an Afghan girl caught up in a bombing incident last year. A decent cause and all that, but it was the draw of Attila the Stockbroker that led me to miss the Antiques Roadshow on Sunday.

As I braved a bitterly cold, but beautifully full moon lit Sunday evening, I strolled down the Stockwell Road and actually missed my turn off. I ended up at Stockwell Skate Park, and with a quick check on the iPhone, I retreated back away from the Brixton side of the tracks.

I didn’t know The Grosvenor actually existed. Inconspicuous from the outside, inside the old boozer was like stepping back in time twenty years to the rebel raising drinking dens that I use to frequent in the Fair City.

A geezer with an original (and somewhat repugnant) Clash T-shirt propped up the bar. Jamaican ska was on the sound system and a bloke wearing a Brixton Cycles cap gave me the wink as I wandered in.

Chapeau!

With the business of booze attended to, I strayed into the back room bar, which was hosting the bands for the evening. A fiver on the door and a no nonsense cross on my palm with a big fat green marker pen. The door policy was basically if you’re paying, yer in.

The scene within reminded me of all that I loved about the long lost glory years of Selectadisc. A pamphlet stall (something that you won’t see at a Killers gig) displayed political call to arms for a variety of causes. There wasn’t any literature from that nice Dave Cameron, and I struggled to see the relevance of the anti-Poll Tax leaflet. Good effort though.

A bloke was playing slide banjo on stage, with the lead singer asking in an East End drawl:

“Why are some people complete and utter c***s?”

I couldn’t have timed my arrival any better.

I later found out that this was the fading embers of the set from Steve White and the Protest Family, an E10 punk / folk four piece with a passion for all things Leyton Orient. The final song somehow managed to paint Brisbane Road as a superior place to watch football over the likes of Stamford Bridge, White Hart Lane and the Boleyn.

I caught my breath, surveyed the Sunday night carnage and hoped that I had entered into an alternative reality. The momentum of the Poll Tax riots back in ’89 had been realised; the Tories had been toppled and BIG government was shown up for the sham that we all know it is. John Major was a mistake that never happened, and grass roots local democracy was now firmly established. Nu Labour was just a weak sperm count in Peter Mandleson’s pin prick of a member that had somehow failed to be ejaculated.

£3.30 for a pint of Guinness at the bar washed away all notions of the Glorious Revolution. No worries – look, here’s a mad as a wet hen ranting Brixton poet, rapping out his Tell It Like It Is observations from Coldharbour Lane, with the accompaniment of s bongo man and a cello.

Cripes.

Jack Blackburn was actually b****y brilliant. Six, seven minute long rants, all word perfect and paced with a timing that betrayed my own previous sense of the slightly warped SW9 timeline. The street observations were spot on, mixing Ancient Greek mythology with tales of drugs and seediness in SW9. That’s something that you won’t be reading about in Lambeth Life.

And then we came to the main draw of the evening. Nope, not the draw for the raffle, but the draw of Attila the Stockbroker, the legendary old skool one man ranting punk rock poet. Back in the day and an Attila gig for me was like a Friday night out at the pub. We must have seen yer man perform in pretty much every back street boozer across the Midlands.

London dates became less frequent, as well as being pushed out further into the suburbs. How glorious then to see Attila take to the stage, LIVE! in Sunny Stockwell, and performing in a boozer that was next door to where his Old Man once lived.

A bit of comedy strumming on the mandola, and then the set soon changed for Attila. Having lost his step-Dad over the New Year, and with family commitments spent caring for his Mum after her diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease, the political became the personal, as Attila read out some new poetry with a more reflective angle.

The ranting, boozing and profanities came to a close. The old school punks put down there pint glasses as silence descended over The Grosvenor. It was emotional stuff, and Attila did well to complete his set, even competing with a fire alarm at one stage.

Captain Hotknives displayed no such emotion, opening with a song called I Hate Babies. A one man strumming mouthpiece with a surrealist sense of humour, Mr Hotknives was the ideal act to end the evening.

Songs about racist animals and penguin porn followed. The ideas accelerated as the strumming intensified. This is one weird cool cat that has an imagination that suggests he isn’t spending his Sunday evenings watching The Antiques Roadshow for inspiration.

The raffle at the end was a bit of a flop. But then there’s little you can do to radicalise the drawing of pink coloured tickets out of a Tupperware container. Hey hoe – let’s go.

And so I left The Grosvenor with the full moon illuminating Sunny Stockwell and a huge grin across my face as Super Socialist Sunday came to a close. The proud activism around these parts is alive and well. There’s a fighting spirit around Stockwell that although seems hidden away, is still out there, and still kicking against the idiots that make decisions on our behalf.

Acoustic Insurgency takes place on the last Sunday of every month, which by my basic back of a beer mat calculations, leaves us with three more anarchic SW9 nights before real change can be put in place at the ballot box.

I went in search of the “success story” of leisure in Lambeth today. I didn’t find any evidence of it at Brixton Rec. Instead I found unhappy users, who have been shunted from site to site, changing room to changing room, and all in the name of continued investment.

Twenty four hours after the good Councillor Nigel Haselden very kindly agreed to explain Lambeth Labour’s confused leisure policy, I still can’t quite see where the “success story” angle comes from.

I think (hope?) that I put across the user’s point of view in the previous podcast. Padlocking up swimming pools isn’t a sign of the success story that Lambeth Labour likes to portray.

Many thanks to the very kind users who I door-stepped in a very undignified manner as they were leaving the current shoebox that doubles up as a changing room. It was slightly awkward lurking around the locker room, especially so with children waiting to use the space.

I wanted to add a female perspective, but it felt just plain wrong to point my iPhone in the face of females as they were frog marched up the back stairs, still dripping wet en route to the roundabout way of finding the ladies’ changing room.

And so not the most successful of vox pops; which at least keeps in theme with the subject matter of the crazy claims that leisure in Lambeth is a success story.

I rather enjoyed interviewing Councillor Nigel Haselden, Deputy Cabinet Member for Sustainability at Lambeth Council. We clashed on a number of points during our conversation, but I found the good Councillor to be charming company, and very transparent in trying to make some sort of sense out of Lambeth Labour’s current confused leisure policy.

We disagreed over the interpretation, and implication, of Lambeth Council being forced to shut Streatham Leisure Centre, and then being dictated to by private developer Cathedral Group as to when to shut Clap’ham Leisure Centre.

I simply failed to see the “success story” that Councillor Haselden was trying to spin out of the current closure of Brixton Rec, less than three years after the £2m plus refurbishment.

And so with Tesco in control of leisure in Streatham, and Cathedral Group calling the shots in Clap’ham, I was keen to find out what the pay off is for the private company in SW4.

I asked Councillor Haselden what the benefit is for Cathedral Group in the whole Future Clap’ham project. The answer of: “When they sell their posh flats on top of the High Street” tells you all you need know about the priorities of Lambeth Labour – selling off valued council land to the high end of the private sector.

We also touched on the Keep Clap’ham Swimming election manifesto that returned three Labour councillors in the Clap’ham Town ward back in 2006. Councillor Haselden confirmed that this is an election pledge that Lambeth Labour plans to stick with at the next set of local elections in May of this year. Ultimately it will be the fine people of Lambeth who will pass judgement on this promise.

The good Councillor expressed that he was “alarmed by my conclusion” that Lambeth Labour has lost control of leisure in the borough. I stand by this assertion. The “slight hiccup” of only having two hours in the morning when a pool is open in Lambeth would seem to favour my observations.

But yes – it was very decent of Councillor Haselden to argue his cause, and I am more than happy to provide a platform on m’blog for an elected official to explain the current situation. Plus also a big heads up for the ever-wonderful @mayoroflambeth for pulling the strings behind the scenes, and setting up the interview.

Having just been told by a @lambeth_council elected official that the leisure policy of the Labour led administration is a “success story” (more to follow…) I returned back to my SW8 base to find a great comment from an ex-Lambeth leisure user.

David’s experience of the mismanagement of leisure in the Rotten Borough mirrors the experience of most users that I have spoken with since the Lambeth leisure meltdown. I felt the comment needed more of a public platform, and so I have published it in full as a separate post.

“Leisure will be a major issue at the 2010 local elections,” as the good Councillor Haselden told me this morning.

Too bloody right.

“So angry and frustrated! I’m Andrew’s swimming housemate who after 14 years of pleasure and misery using Lambeth pools, has finally given up. It’s too early to say how successful the membership move to Nuffield and the Queen Mother will be, but my first visit was a success with reasonable room in the pool and organised system and friendly staff (not that the staff at Clapham and Brixton were not friendly,) and great promise as well as hot water and lots of it in the showers and keys in the lockers.

I never really went back to Brixton much after the last upgrade and changing room debacle, preferring to stay at the decaying Clapham. It is so galling that everything closes at the same time, and at a time that swimming is supposedly being encouraged.

I knew that the 8 weeks upgrade (yeah right that will really happen on time) followed by severe overcrowding would be a miserable and stressful experience for me instead of relaxing and health promoting. I am so glad I am not putting myself through it.

Surely closing all the pools and sports centres with the resulting lack of provision and overcrowding is also a stupid idea at the beginning of the year when many people take on new membership. Trying to to get a regular swim in Lambeth at a regular time has for many years been made as difficult as possible. Women only swims and private lessons in peak times amongst other things have left pathetic lanes which are too narrow to pass in.

I’ve given up on the feedback sessions and customer suggestion forms which were ignored. I was ashamed I didn’t go to the last Clapham meeting to tell the council organisers what I thought of their organisation, but it just didn’t seem worth my while to waste more of my time. All I can say is I’m glad I finally jumped ship, come on in the waters fine. Good luck to you onion blog and my fellow Lambeth swimmers.”

Many thanks to David for the comment.

Day 1 in the Rotten Borough since Labour led @lambeth_council privatised leisure, and we didn’t get off to a great start. With St Reatham and Clap’ham pools both padlocked on account of interference from the private sector, a young blogger’s thoughts turn towards Brixton for the daily dip.

Blimey.

Best make it quick however. Time and kiddie piss pool tide wait for no swimmer, certainly not in the Rotten Borough anyway. If you want to swim in Lambeth, your only option is now between 7-9am, and even then you have to jump through hoops and be frog marched around the gym in your shreddies.

A £2.7m refurbishment doesn’t buy you much these days. Actually, it doesn’t buy you anything, except further closures. And so less than two years since The Rec was declared “buzzing” (ha!) I approached the backstreets of SW9 early on Monday morning with some trepidation.

I wasn’t alone. Nope – I REALLY WASN’T ALONE. Swimming is alive and well in Lambeth (sort of) in the sense that plenty of people want to swim, but they ‘aint exactly got a lot of choice where they choose to take their dip.

The overcrowding wasn’t helped when I finally made it up to the sixth floor and the back room old gym changing rooms. Your glass is either half full, or half empty; the Muscle Mary’s in the gym certainly took the latter option, feeling hard done by that half of their locker room space has been taken over by some poncey swimmers.

Likewise I wasn’t too enthralled about having to stretch into my Speedoes in an environment that is essentially a makeshift shoebox.

Compounding the lack of space problem is the lack of drainage. Gym boys don’t generally drip, and so there is no need for irrigation. Swimmers however tend to flood the place, unless there is a drainage system.

Ah – I see what the master plan is here – a brand new pool is going to be built in the Rotten Borough, based on the overcrowding and flooding now taking place in the temporary (yeah, right) changing rooms.

But onwards. Or even downwards. I was frog-marched through the gym, and down two levels of stairs before I could enter the waters of Lake Brixton. Personal hygiene is off the agenda. Having a shower prior to my bathing would have led to the carpet en route to the pool rotting faster then the Rotten Borough is under the right wing Nu Labour administration.

Forty lengths followed. At least I think they did. I lost count halfway through, having been forced to navigate a one-way system that resembled the South Circular during rush hour.

Back up the stairs, past the sniggering Muscle Mary’s, and yet more wet under foot carpet. I hope Lambeth Council has a budget to replace all that rotting shag pile.

Time for a shower, time to think again. Day 1 in the Rotten Borough since Labour privatised leisure in Lambeth and the bloody showers weren’t working. A GLL maintenance chap was frantically trying to unblock the mess (the showers, not a pimped out leisure policy.)

The poor chap was struggling, so much so that he had left his internal radio on.

Incoming call, incoming call…

“Dave, come in Dave. This is reception.”

“Go ahead reception.”

“Dave, there’s a customer here with a pre-paid Lambeth Leisure Card. He wants a swim. It’s five past nine. Shall I let him in?”

“Reception – tell him to clear off.”

“Dave? Sorry? Clear off?”

“Reception, you heard – tell him to clear off. We’re closed.”

“Dave – that’s a bit crap. You sure?”

“We’re closed. Over and out”

And so I left Brixton Rec just as the shutters were coming down for the day. The newsagents around the corner had just opened. Let’s call this La La Lambeth Land Meridian Time.

I walked past Reception to see a queue of customers about to be turned away with their towels and trunks. I also saw a sign proclaiming ‘Free swimming for the U16′s and U65′s!’ I didn’t see a sign explaining (apologising?) for the privatisation of leisure in Lambeth.

Same again tomorrow?

Best set that alarm clock for La La Lambeth Land Meridian Time.