How have I managed to live in London for 32 years and only been to Victoria Park once before?That was in September 2000 to watch a Radiohead concert in the Park. I remember it being unseasonably cold – both the weather and the band’s performance – and that I lost the people I was with and that it took me ages to get home to South London. I think I lost the band that night as well; they played a lot of their yet to be released new “out there” album, Kid A, which the audience did not yet know and so reaction was muted. I had got a copy of the album in advance but had struggled to listen all the way through it. Tom, the singer, didn’t seem to make an effort to sell in the new material, he just slapped it down in front of us. I’ve never really made an effort with them this century. My loss I suppose, though I don’t feel it. It was not one of my favourite nights. I think I even picked up a chill.
Anyway… I was out on one of my rambles around the nooks and crannies of the great city when I came across the edge of the Park. I was actually late starting my journey home (and knew what a schlep it could be back to South London from past experience!) and had promised to cook dinner that night and was umming and aahing about whether I had time to have a poke around. Valour always the better part of discretion I jumped, or rather strolled, in. And I’m glad I did.
London park life is a marvelous part of London life. It always pleases me to see these shared open places being used. They seem in general to be busier and more used than they were a decade of three ago. Can this be so? Joggers, skateboarders, kids on bikes, kids in prams, footballers, couples walking hand in hand, strange blokes (like me) lost in a world of headphones and a camera lens, kite-flyers, families Sunday-walking, an old tramp with a can or two of something strong and bracing. Cor-blimeys rubbing alonside What-hos! Young and old. Moody looking Goth couples, gangs of fly boys in tracksuits, with sharp haircuts and swagger enjoying looking collectively slightly threatening. I even saw a man practicing his handstands against a wall. All of London life is here.
And Victoria Park is really rather pretty. There’s a tree-lined bathing pond (though with nobody was taking advantage of the facilities on this winter afternoon), wonderful trees still sending gentle cascades of leaves to the grassy ground, a very cute bandstand and a striking Gothic drinking fountain, built by the philanthropist Baroness Burdett Coutts, which are all easy on the eye.
I’m always interested how these sorts of places came into being. Wikipedia tells me that it was the Crown Estate – which is an independent body that owns land for the monarch on behalf of / for the use of the people – which bought the land in the 1840’s to provide a park for the people of this part of East London that had been subsumed into the city as it expanded massively during the 19th century. The land had been park land belonging to the last lord of the manor of old Stepney and one of the Bishop of London’s palaces and had been spoiled by the extraction of clay and other materials to make bricks. It was laid out by Sir James Pennethorne between 1842 and 1846 and opened to the public in 1845. It is similar to Regent’s Park and this is likely due to Pennethorne having studied under John Nash who designed the posher West End park.
During the Second World War the whole park was closed to the public and turned initially into a base for anti-aircaft guns that were attempting to stop the Luftwaffe’s bombing raids on the East End. Later on prisoner of war camps for German and Italian prisoners were established in Victoria Park.
But today that is ancient history, the park is used for peaceful pleasures and the ghosts of those times feel long gone.
