Category Archives: Autobiography

A Hackney Estate Before Its Time.

In 1975 I had already worked for Hackney Council for 12 years first as a plumber then as the foreman plumber. Based in the depths of Shoreditch down Bowling Green Walk off of Pitfield Street. One lunch time I got … Continue reading

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Stay as They Are

Knowing the day could be calamitous or at least memorable, Jan and I joined the tube at Elm Park Station last Wednesday morning to wend our way across Londons metropolis from the East to North West – Maida Vale station. … Continue reading

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Our Village

It’s a metaphor because in many ways our council estate of 146 dwellings (in three tower blocks) can be seen in much the same way as a large hamlet of old somewhere in rural Yorkshire or any other place in … Continue reading

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A Treasured Chest

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Making and Living

This hotel is not for me I’m dining out but I’m lonely There isn’t much in Newbury Come here yourself and then you’ll see. Actually don’t. Just take it from me I met a girl who dreams a lot Seems … Continue reading

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Committed Comrades

Through the early to mid 1980s Margaret Thatcher waged a vindictive and unrelenting war against the Labour movement in general and specifically the Metropolitan County Councils. Her nemesis was Ken Livingstone the ultimate “left” Leader of the G.L.C. at County Hall … Continue reading

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Just Yesterday Ago

In 1989 (I can’t believe that is twenty five years ago) I was the Branch Secretary of the National and Local Government Organisation (NALGO) in Hackney, I was at the head of a bunch of left wing extremists.The Communist Party, … Continue reading

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Paris, Our Last Day.

After a typical French breakfast of croissants (bland, cardboard on steroids with peculiar  bits on the side) we all made our way with our luggage to the Gare du Nord station to leave the cases in the left luggage store … Continue reading

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Odeboyz on Tour

Spring in the Scottish Highlands, Tomintoul.

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More Paris.

The dirty brick with the equally dirty windows looked down on the dingy street with cars parked both sides, so close together none could escape without the French “bumper shuffle”. Our close knit bunch of five couples were on the … Continue reading

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