Christmas is Coming!

It is definitely that time of year again.  Everywhere you look there are flashing lights and people falling out of pubs.  At least The Centre MK are still doing things in style.  Their Christmas display is as magnificent as ever and it is also the only one I've seen this year, to include a Nativity scene.  It was rather magical to walk around whilst sipping on an eggnog latte.

Only two weeks to go until Christmas is here and that only means one thing, lots of people going out and getting plenty of festive 'cheer'.  It is after all the season to be jolly and I see no reason why we can't all enjoy it, responsibly.  Just remember to wrap up warm and please, DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE.

Ray's Jazz Cafe.

There is this little place that I've been trying to find for a while now and today I finally found it!  Ray's Jazz Cafe on Charing Cross Road (London).  It was rather quite busy for a little place that is well tucked away.  The place was packed and there wasn't even any live music today.  I wonder how busy it gets when there is an act performing?  Despite the trouble I had finding it, I'm glad that I did.  Now that I know where it is I will definitely be going again.  I can see this becoming one of my many little haunts.

I regret to inform you that Rays's Jazz Cafe is no more.  It has now closed to make way for luxury apartments.  My apologies to all those who will never get to experience a piece of London's rapidly disappearing culture.

Spirits of the Underground.

The London Underground first opened with the Metropolitan Line way back in 1863.  Almost 150 years later it has expanded to a vast maze of tunnels and escalators, covering over 250 miles of track.  As we find ourselves travelling deeper under ground, you can’t help but feel that you are entering the unknown.  What secrets lie hidden within these concrete walls?  After a century and a half of murder and tragedy, a few unexplained bumps in the night should not be unexpected.  Everyone knows that rush hour can get a little crowded, with approximately 4 million people travelling on the tube everyday but even after closing time, the underground is busier than you might think.  Once the commuters have returned home, that is when the lingering spirits of the past come out to play.  With footsteps echoing down empty corridors and strange screams coming through the dark, travelling alone at night can be a very unsettling experience.

            One of the most chilling occurrences on the underground, had its origins more than one hundred years before the tube was even opened.  A terrifying scream that echoes down the tunnels of Farringdon, is all that remains of a young girl who was the victim of terrible abuse, ending in murder.

            Anne Naylor was a thirteen year old trainee hat maker, who was murdered by her employer, Sarah Metyard, in 1758.  She had suffered for many years at the hands of Metyard and her daughter, until finally one day, her employer went too far and she lost her life. Metyard had tried to dispose of Anne’s body in the sewers of Chick Lane.  Parts of the body were discovered, leading to her conviction.

            The ghost of Anne Naylor, was thought to haunt the sewers of Chick Lane for many years.  For reasons that no one knows,  she has now managed to somehow find her way to Farringdon Station , where she has become known as ‘The Screaming Spectre.’  Many people have claimed to hear her cries echoing down the station.  Could this be the devastating cry of a young girl desperate to be heard?  Or is it just the sound of ancient rails begging to be replaced?

            During World War Two, the underground was used as a safe place for many people, as a communal shelter during the air raids.  Entire families would gather together and hide from the Luftwaffe.  They would tell stories and sing songs to keep their morale high, whilst their homes were being destroyed above their heads.  For one group of 173 people, mainly women and children, that safe place became a nightmare.

            The station entrance at Bethnal Green , was the location of one of the more serious losses of civilians during the war.  173 people were crushed in the stairway entrance, whilst trying to escape an air raid in a blind panic.  One of the more poignant parts of this tragedy, is that it wasn’t even an air raid they had been running from.  The sirens had been a false alarm, after a new anti-aircraft gun recently set up in Victoria Park had caused a panic with its large booming sounds that were mistaken for a bomb.  There had been no reason for any of those people to die that day.

            Ever since the tragedy, there have been many reports of people feeling uncomfortable whilst in the station.  This has often been explained by the use of machines with low-frequency sounds, which can cause some people to feel uncomfortable.  That does not however, explain the sounds of women and children screaming.  A sound that many people have reported hearing in the booking hall.  This could be explained during the busy daytime, when there may well be groups of over-excited children about.  How would you explain it after hours, when the station is supposed to be empty?  Surely a large, noisy group would be easy to spot, wouldn’t they?

            Many  famous people have been seen on the Piccadilly Line.  I have even spotted a few familiar faces myself.  If you find yourself in Covent Garden Station late at night during the winter months, then you might be lucky enough to spot the actor William Terriss.  With his tall hat and white gloves, he should be fairly easy to recognise.

            William Terriss was stabbed to death on The Strand, close to the Adelphi Theatre in December 1897.  It is thought that he was a regular visitor to a bakery, which once stood where the station now stands.  Terriss’s ghost has often been spotted in the tunnels of Covent Garden, with the first recorded sighting happening in the 1950’s.  The station staff had got used to his presence and never had any problem with it,  until he one day appeared in their staff room, resulting in many of them applying for a transfer elsewhere.  It would seem that this harmless manifestation had gotten a little too close for comfort.

            One of the most unsettling experiences reported by London underground staff, is that of the disappearing tube traveller.  The most occurrences seem to be at Elephant and Castle Underground Station, situated on the end of the Bakerloo Line.  Both staff and commuters have seen a woman boarding a train but have never seen her leave.  She gets on the train but does not appear to get off again.  When staff go to remove her from the empty train she has disappeared.  This mysterious entity has also been blamed, for the echoing footsteps that have often been heard in the empty station after hours.  Is this the spirit of a restless traveller who never made it home?  Or is it that some people move so quickly, that they seem to just disappear into the shadows.

            Ever since the underground opened and even whilst it was being built, it has been plagued by tragedy.  From tunnel collapses, to collisions and suicide.  This vast maze of endless tunnels has seen its fair share of death.  Even in more recent times it has seen tragedy on a large scale, with the fire in the Kings Cross Tunnel in 1987.  Then of course there was the suicide bombings in 2005.  Millions of people travel on the underground on a daily basis and for some of them, it is a journey that they will quite literally be making for all eternity.  The tube is probably filled with as many unseen commuters as it is physical ones.  Spirits of the dead, who will wander through the tunnels or ride across the city day after day, never reaching their planned destination.

            If you find yourself on an empty underground station, don’t just assume that you are alone.  If you can hear voices or footsteps when there is no one else around, just because you cannot see them, it doesn’t mean that they are not there.  When you can hear a train that doesn’t arrive, spare a thought for the poor souls that never made it to the platform.

It's About Time.

Who else hates those kids that barge their way to the front of the bus queue?  Today I had the best driver ever.  She made them get off and wait until everyone else had got on first.  I would have applauded her but I was too cold and tired and not really in the mood.  It's about time someone tried teaching school kids some manners.  They run riot and make life miserable for everyone else.  It's just a shame that it is being done by a bus driver and not in the classroom where it should be happening.

Winona's Grown Up!

I can't believe that Winona Ryder is now 41!  It doesn't seem like five minutes ago that she was one of the hottest teen stars around.  I have been watching her films for most of my life and it is hard to believe that I am nearly grown up too.  Let's just hope that the future brings us some more iconic characters to add to the ones that she's already given us.  Watch this little video that I made celebrating this amazing lady.  I have blogged it before but I think that it deserves another look.

Lick it up baby, lick it up!

NocturnalWanderers.com

Here is another short story for you to read.  It is an idea that I had a while back and is the basis for a book that I am currently working on.  The finished book will be slightly different from this little story but it does have the same theme.  I had the idea of combining rich sociopaths, lonely outcasts and the dangers of the internet, with a little bit of macabre history thrown in to make it a little more interesting.  I hope you enjoy reading it and understand the lesson that I was trying to convey.

NocturnalWanderers.com.

13 High Street South.  That was definitely the address that she had given her.  The message clearly said; ‘Meet me at 13 High Street South, 6:30pm, and don’t be late.’  This was the place, but she was not here, nor was anything else.  No. 13, was just the site of what used to be a bungalow.  It had been burnt out years ago, and all of the windows and doors were still boarded up.  Laura looked at her watch, it was still only 6:15.  Maybe she hadn’t arrived yet.

            When she first signed up to NocturnalWanderers.com, Laura had only wanted to make new friends.  What she had found, was a group of people, pretending to be members of the undead.  At first she was unsure of the site, but curiosity kept her going back to it.  She soon found herself being drawn in to the fantasy.  She had even made friends with a girl named Mia Dulaarc.  They had been talking online for almost a month, and then one day, she asked her if she would like to join her crypt.  Even though she knew it was wrong, she was not able to stop herself from coming here.  There was a part of her, that desperately wanted to find a place where she could belong.  Now that she was actually here, it no longer seemed like such a good idea.

            Mia had seen the girl arrive, and watched from the shadows as she waited patiently outside.  Many girls had decided not to stick around after seeing the burnt out house.  Every so often, one of them did, just like this one was.  They were so desperately lonely, and wanted so much to be a part of something, anything, that they were willing to take the risk.  These were the girls that she wanted for her little family.  The hopeless loners with nowhere else to go.

            As soon as the clock struck 6:30 she made her move.  The girl did not move, as she stepped out of the shadows behind her.

“You must be Laura.”  She said.  “Welcome home.”

At first Laura was unsure of the woman that was suddenly standing there in front of her.  She was dressed all in black and her face was pale, but at least it was a friendly one.  The side door of the house was now open, and she could feel the heat that was coming from within.  It was a cold evening, and so she decided to go inside.

            The inside of the house was not at all how she expected it to look.  Someone must have redecorated at some point.  It certainly didn’t look as though there had been a fire in there.  The walls had all been painted red, apart from one, that had been painted with a strange mural that gave her the creeps.  It was a large, wall sized painting that depicted women with stakes through their hearts, being burnt on top of large bonfires, before being decapitated by soldiers with long, silver swords.

            There appeared to be just this one big room.  On the wall opposite the one with the strange painting, there was a fire.  It was giving out a warm, welcoming heat, and she felt herself being drawn towards it.  The rest of the room was empty, apart from the large sofas, arranged in a u-shape around the fire.  The room was lit by one giant chandelier, which she noticed used candles instead of light bulbs.  There did not appear to be any signs of electricity anywhere.  Someone had gone to a lot of trouble, to make this place look as authentic as they possibly could.

            As she sat warming herself by the fire, Laura suddenly realised that she was alone.  The woman who had greeted her, was gone.  Her heart was racing, as she looked for the exit door, and then found it locked.  She was trapped.  Panic set in as she remembered her phone, that was sitting on the kitchen table.  She was starting to wish that she’d told someone where she was going.  No one knew that she was here.

            Not knowing what else to do, she sat by the fire and waited.  An eternity seemed to pass, before she heard a sound coming from behind her.  Laura turned to see a doorway suddenly appear, in the middle of the mural.  The mysterious lady appeared from within, followed by six girls of about her age.  They looked pale, and walked slowly with their heads bowed down.  None of them looked at her, as they made their way to the front of the room.  They sat in a circle in front of the fire.  The Lady gestures to Laura that she should join them.  The fire was warm on her back, but she felt cold.  A couple of the girls looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t work out where she knew them from.  There was only silence, as they sat and waited.

            The Lady placed a large, silver cup in the centre of the circle, and each of the girls held out one of her hands.  Then she took out a silver dagger, and cut them across their palms until the blood flowed out.  The girls then held their hands over the cup, and it started to fill with their blood.  Laura watched in horror, until The Lady turned to her, and asked her to hold out her hand.  The other girls were now looking at her, and the blank expressions in their eyes, seemed to tell her that she had no choice.

            Reluctantly, Laura held out her hand.  At first, she felt no pain, but as the blood started to flow, it stung like crazy.  She could feel the tears burning the back of her eyes, as she let her blood drip into the cup.  Her head started to spin as she felt herself grow weak.  The blood just kept on dripping from her hand, until finally, it started to congeal, and she was allowed to take her hand away.

            The Lady picked up the silver cup, and studied its contents with a strange, glazed look in her eyes.  The girls sat silent and motionless, as she carefully poured the blood into what appeared to be a jam jar.  Then she went off through a door that Laura had not noticed before, and returned a few seconds later empty-handed.

            “A fine harvest this evening ladies.  The new member of our family, has made quite the addition to our bounty.  Arise now, and return to your lair.”

The girls stood up, and Laura followed them as they went back through the door from which they came.  She followed them down a narrow stairway, and into what appeared to be a cellar.  There were several large mattresses lying in the corner, and the large table in the middle, was covered in bowls of fruit and bread.  Each of the girls picked at the food, before lying down to rest.

            Laura looked around the room, and knew that she had made a big mistake.  She was trapped here, and before long, she would become like the rest of them.  Her blood would be drained little by little, night after night, until she no longer had the strength to carry on.

            Mia Dulaarc studied the jars of blood that filled the tiny fridge.  She opened two of them, and poured the contents into the steaming hot water, that filled her red-stained tub.  As she lay back in the water, she looked up at the picture of Elizabeth Bathory that was hanging on the wall, and she smiled to herself, as she made plans for reeling in her next victim.

Prehistoric London

Q:  What do you get if you cross Jurassic Park with Pompeii?

A:  Crystal Palace Park, London.

Well, they’re not really fossilized Dinosaurs, but simply the strange creations of the sculptor Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins.  Built in 1853, they are one of the strangest parts of the Victorian era that still survives in London today.  The park itself is a nice place to visit, with plenty of open space, picnic areas and a children’s play area.  There is a café in the park which is a nice, cheap and cheerful little place for a cup of coffee or a bite to eat.

            The walk around the Dinosaur Pond is well sign-posted with the names and descriptions of the Dinosaurs on show.  There is even an audio app of Darwin’s views on evolution that can be downloaded as an extra guide around the walk.  Just be warned that the path can get rather muddy if the weather has been wet, so you might want to bear that in mind when choosing which shoes to wear.

            It is a shame that you don’t find Crystal Palace Park in a lot of London tour guides, as it is one of the more interesting parks in the city and well worth a visit.  It is especially a good place to visit with children, particularly little boys who like their Dinosaurs.  They don’t even have to know that they are only made of concrete.  It’s always fun to see just how far you can pull their little legs!