MY EAST END LIFE – The Old and the NEW.

In the mid-eighteenth century Bethnal Green was a small hamlet in the old parish of Stepney,  but by the end of that century it had become a metropolitan borough in its own right.  Change came about once again in 1966 when Bethnal Green ceased to exist as a separate borough and became part of the Borough of Tower Hamlets.

Like many parts of the East End of today  Bethnal Green has benefited from the continual programme of regeneration driven jointly by developers and the Borough of Tower Hamlets but there are still large parts of this relatively compact area which are still desperately awaiting modernisation and improvement. 
My day began at Bethnal Green Station just one short stop away from Mile End on the district line ,which looks today very much like it did fifty or sixty years ago.  The best known landmark right here must be The Museum of Childhood, lifted and moved here lock stock and barrel in the 1870’s – even including some parts of the original cast iron structure of the old building – from its site as part of the Victoria & Albert Museum. Practically every young school child in the whole of the London area – and sometimes from even further afield – would have come here on an organised school trip at some time over the past  20 years or so. 

Right opposite the station is Bethnal Green Road a long straight road and the main thoroughfare with a mish-mash of old buildings of mostly no particular architectural note lining each side.

A strange mixture,  with the very occasional gem like the white and brown art deco facade of the oddly named Frank E Trimmings still standing out among the dross.

Looking out from the station exit, on one corner is the old Victorian facade of the Salmon and Ball - still a  popular working pub - and on the other side a tiny terrace called Paradise Row.  This is supposedly the very spot that features in the old music hall song “ On Mother Kellys Doorstep” popularised by Marie Llloyd  and Gracie Fields, where Nellie a young Jewish immigrant used to sit on the doorstep of old Ma Kellys pawnshop.

Also on the right and just under the railway bridge taking the trains from Essex into Liverpool Street,  Hollybush Place leads into a maze of little streets and small factory buildings lying between Bethnal Green and Hackney Road which runs parallel to it.  The trade of skilled cabinet makers -  polishers , carvers, veneerers and makers of all kinds of traditional furniture  flourished here for almost 100 years. We bought the beautifully hand carved cabriole legs to make our range of Georgian side tables here – right up until the end of the 1980’s ,when Chinese imports put an end to most of them and many other British manufacturing industries.  

With a pub on almost every street corner it used to be said  that you could buy almost anything on this road ,which apart from the proliferation of betting shops and gaudy fast food eating places remains basically just about the same as it was for many years.  .
Market traders line the street on the left  hand side on and off for practically its whole length  and vary according to the day of the week. This is the place where the grandfather of Len Goodman, head judge of the Strictly Come Dancing team had his greengrocery business and where there is still a branch of Kelly’s the pre-war pie and mash shop.  It’s just had a make over and a posh new shop front but the Ocean Dinner Club in Stepney still get their once a month portions old fashioned pie and mash here.

   
About half way down the imposing facade of The Marquis of Carnarvon dominates the corner of Vallance Road , once home to the notorious Kray family.  Although the pub was their local Ronnie and Reggie the infamous Twins didn’t appear to use it that much – a bit too near home for comfort I imagine – no doubt preferring other similar haunts.  I remember seeing the piano playing cockney duet Chas and Dave  performing here long before they became famous outside the East End. 

The Krays were well known throughout the East End and latterly the West End too for their   organised gangland activities and their particularly violent behaviour throughout  the 50’s, 60’s and 70s, at the end of which they got their just desserts. In effect they were in some degree the victims of their own success, taking on the establishment and thumbing their nose at the law.  In his latter days of imprisonment Reg took up the artists brush and produced some quite reasonable pieces of work – in a kind of naive.impressionist way.  Already a figure of criminal distinction Reg has now been immortalised in East End celebrity with a painting of his “ Christ on the Cross “ now hanging permanently in the illustrious Museum of London.  An unusual picture by an equally unusual person, but to be honest when I first saw it I thought the face of the main subject looked more like  his twin brother Ronnie than Jesus.

I was now not far away from my final destination The Bethnal Green Working Mens Club in nearby Pollards Row.  Built in 1895 by the old Borough of Bethnal Green and once the home of the working /drinking classes this typically grand  late 19^th century building has for several years now been the  venue for a variety of avant - guarde acts attracting a mainly young 20’s to 30’s mixed audience and performers. A listed building the Victorian red brick structure looks pretty much OK, but the inside has been severely neglected over the years. When I last visited the place about five years ago it was bad enough, but now it’s even worse. It’s a real shame as although it’s now a bit more rough than ready it still provides good entertainment at incredibly reasonable prices.

On the opposite corner stands another building of considerable architectural note - the old Bethnal Green Town Hall its magnificent carved stone work and bell tower reaching into the sky. Now completely redundant it’s a sad reminder of corporate neglect.

 
I was there for prostitution- not the actual thing of course, but for the early evening  performance of  The Fanny Hill Project’  an unusual show by Theatre State and the  invention of two extremely talented young women. Inspired by their joint interest in British Culture, Tess Seddon and Cheryl Gallacher have created a range of unique events in modern theatre. I thoroughly recommend their work which is bound to appeal not just to the young but to those of all ages who appreciate this contemporary art form.
Based on the so called erotic novel by John Cleland about prostitution in the 18^th century it blended together the  life of the heroine Fanny and a real life modern woman – who after graduating was unable to obtain any useful kind of work in the UK and eventually  finds herself homeless in New York . It was a fast moving show, intelligent and  funny and included drama , dance , comedy and audience participation.  The show finished at about 9pm – and after a quick last drink of their excellent real beer in the bar I resisted the urge to visit the Mexican restaurant on the top floor and was home just in time to watch the ten o clock news.

About the bona fide naturist lifestyle.

About the bona fide naturist lifestyle.

It’s very clear that people the whole world over   ( and throughout the Western world in particular ) , irrespective of age , gender or status are desperate to find some kind of relief from the stresses and strains of modern living.  So much so that they will clutch at almost any opportunity that arises , however daft it might at first seem. Cults and therapies , agony aunts and astrology , strange sounding diets and gurus galore , to name but a few - and there is also NATURISM.  But in spite of the way in which it is almost always portrayed by the media , the modern – day  bona fide naturist lifestyle is not as silly as it may at first sound.

There are already millions of practising naturists around the world and the numbers are growing at an enormous rate every year, as more and more people discover this unusual kind of lifestyle , but in most instances this remarkable discovery is made completely by accident as the rest of society know almost nothing about the true facts of naturist living.   It is now a enormous multi billion pound financial international enterprise , now increasing out of all proportion each year on year.

 The reason for this is quite simple.  The bona fide naturist community have no desire whatsoever to expose their naturist lifestyle to public gaze,  nor to encourage others to do so other than by a natural process. Neither do its followers have any compelling urge to convert others to their way of thinking.  

The success of our writing over the years is that we have continually provided a balance that contains just the right amount of interesting information, art , sex , erotica and stimulation without  it containing crude pornography and more importantly without it intruding upon the privacy of the millions of people that make up the bona fide naturist community .

As useful as it might be to plump up TV viewing figures or increase magazine and newspaper circulation , the bona fide naturist lifestyle naturism is not about  getting arrested for taking all your kit off in some major city centre , neither is it about walking the public pathways of (say) Britain from one end  to the other wearing just your boots and socks , upsetting all sorts of people along the way.  These people are the eccentrics and nutters and exhibitionists  of the world at large and only show about 1 % of the iceberg that best describes the real naturist lifestyle.   The truth is that naturism is not just about taking your clothes off at all and a proper naturist lifestyle is as much an attitude of mind as it is a practical activity.

 As old as humanity itself , naturism has wonderful powers of healing .  It benefits society as a whole but asks for nothing in return. The modern day version is healthy , relaxing and most certainly helps to relieve the stresses and strains of modern life , but its also exciting , its fun – and dare we say it – it can be pretty sexy too ,  leading to better and improved relationships within family life.

 

About us:

What started as a kind of therapeutic hobby for me after a traumatic divorce very quickly became a pleasant source of income and amusement.  It is I believe , now a pretty unique package of varying content, but which all comes together in the final part of my autobiography.

Sometimes writing under our own names and also other pseudonyms including  Mark Golding and Belinda Mosse  for past magazine work , we have together over the past twenty five  years or so created a genre like nothing else in the publishing world, with about 800 photographically illustrated articles linking the subjects of sex, erotica, leisure, health and the arts as seen through the eyes of a naturist lifestyle, appearing in specialised magazines throughout the world.  For seventeen years I (we) have written and edited the worlds only naturist agony column and produced an interactive C.D – rom ( The Naked Truth).  We are probably the most published writers of illustrated naturist material ever and we still own all copyright on our work.  

Naturism and erotica are admittedly a niche market , however 90% of the worlds population have a consuming interest in sex and nudity, the naturist lifestyle has both in abundance and our work is completely different from the naturist norm. We also have a slight advantage in that unlike the vast majority of writers of erotica we are real people writing about real life. We also have a full real life outside naturism .

The Whirlpool of the Eye of Sweet Water

The Whirlpool of the Eye of Sweet Water -  A naturist lifestyle/travel feature.

The wild rugged lands of the Languedoc area of Southern France stretch all the way from the Rhone Valley to the mountain foothills of the Spanish Pyrenees.  Its long golden coastline is washed constantly by the warm waters of the Mediterranean sea under an almost perfect sun, but until about 60 years ago this magnificent landscape was virtually unknown .   Over the passing years the coastal regions have been developed and now boast some of the most popular naturist sites in the whole of Europe , but as for the rest of this area apart from not much more than a handful of major cities the remainder of this vast wilderness remains a place of myth and mystery , much as it has for thousands of years.  

Regular visitors to Cap d’Agde will know that Agde itself is the second oldest town in the whole of France and was colonised by the Greeks in the 6^th century.   A couple of hundred years later the Romans arrived and made Narbonne the capital of Roman Gaul.    The emperor Hadrian took his army complete with elephants on his march from Moorish Spain right through the Langudoc on his way to lay siege to Rome and many relics of his historic journey remain en route.  

A bit later on the Cathars , a strange breakaway religion were driven into the region from other parts of France where they remained for many years, building the most incredible remote mountain strongholds before eventually being wiped out by a bunch of equally religious fanatics.   

We were fortunate to be able to spend most of our summers in the early 1990’s in the Aude and were often around when some new ancient site was discovered, frequently in the process of attaining national protective status. Not only were these places of prime historic interest, but because of their  isolation made an almost perfect backdrop for our naturist photography

Until it was developed, principally as a small holiday resort for the French residents of Narbonne to escape the hot summer months, St Pierre sur Mer was not much more than a tiny fishing port and a few odd houses.   We found it almost by accident by following a signpost on the main road to ‘Naturist Beach’ and soon became regular visitors .  On the way home from the beach one day we saw a new sign directing visitors to a place called le Goffre de la Oeil douce and decided to take a look.   About the best translation I can make of this is ‘The whirlpool of the eye of sweet water’  – a spectacular geological curiosity  and probably something to do with the quality of the water.  

Just on the outskirts of the Massive de la Clape, a small mountain range which separates the City of Narbonne from the coast it is within a spectacular limestone chasm at the very heart of which is an almost perfectly circular lake.  We arrived at about 3 pm one weekday to find a neat and tidy carpark,  open gates and absolutely no one at all around.  The information boards told us that myths and mystery –and even fear - surround this place , although we found it gave off a feeling of absolute peace and tranquillity.  It’s source is still unknown , it’s pure clear waters never ever drop or rise  and no one knows how deep it is although it is said that some years ago Jaques Cousteau took one of his submersibles there but failed to reach the bottom- and none has tried since. Swimming is not recommended but neither it is banned. 

After taking lots of pictures of the impressive surroundings , as we were alone off came our clothes for a nice long  session of naturist photography.  It was an incredibly peaceful place with that wonderful natural aroma of plant life where the fresh air from the sea and mountain came together

Following the signs we eventually came to another part of  the site,  a small farm which  was now obviously too small to be profitable and had now become a part  of this unusual protected site.

A number of pieces of old agricultural implements stood around the beautifully restored 18^th century farmhouse – but still no sign of any other human life except our own.    Wandering around we came upon a well maintained paddock where a couple of fine looking horses came over to take a look at us and where we also almost stumbled over a some wild looking black pigs wandering around like a couple of pet dogs . We had got dressed by now but as we still appeared to be alone,  got undressed for a few more pictures before leaving.  

Over the years we discovered many more of these interesting historical or geological wonders and recorded our visits for posterity.  There were so many that I could write a book about them – and maybe one day I will.

PARIS FRANCE - MONTMARTRE

PARIS FRANCE - MONTMARTRE

This is an extract from what will eventually (hopefully) be a posh Photobook

The historic Parisian quartier  of MONTMARTRE,  a relatively small area which was not even a part of the city until 1850,  has everything the discerning  visitor could possibly need .

 

Toulouse Lautrec  lived there for fifteen  years and it is said that he rarely ever left the place - and why should he, as there was no reason for him to go anywhere else.   For in Montmartre you can find  love and romance , history and art, culture galore and the finest food and drink - and all of this within easy walking distance from one of the small but comfortable hotels  located in it’s narrow picturesque streets. 

You won’t see a chain store of any sort here either , as all the  commercial outlets , shops , bars and cafes are still privately owned , many of them by the same families after 100 years or more.   There has been practically no new building here for 150 years or so and apart from a lick of paint here and there and a few new restaurant signs it’s just the same as it was when Lautrec and his boozy womanising chums strolled the tiny cobbled lanes. 

There are chocolate shops to die for , designer boutiques - but not with designer prices -  and the freshest of fresh foods of every description put out on display every morning.  Artisans-  not just artists but craftsmen too - still exist here where tailors , cobblers and repairers of all sorts promote their skills in tiny windows displays and some like jobbing upholsterers for instance right there on the pavement. 

Art & Culture

 When Lautrec first came to Paris he lived right opposite the Moulin Rouge in an apartment at number 21 rue Fontaine.  Degas had his studio on the ground floor next door at number 19 and above him lived Lautrec’s friend Rene Grenier and his wife.  Erotic drawings made by Lautrec at the time cataloguing their adventurous threesomes have only come to light a few years ago and were  on show at an  exhibition in London’s Barbican Centre a few years ago.

   

Right by the side of the Moulin Rouge is rue Lepic, a long crescent shaped street lined with strange artists galleries , bars and cafes that will take you right through the centre of this amazing little district, the whole of which is steeped in artistic history.    We called in to his studio at no 3 rue Tourlaque to say hello to Henri Landier,  an artist friend of ours who has lived in Montmartre all his life.

    

Next door but one at no 7 is the studio where Lautrec  designed all his posters and paintings of brothel scenes , lesbian and low life and where he later held his notorious orgies.    Susan Valadon the love of his life, lived right next door – very conveniently for Lautrec  as his little legs didn’t have to carry him very far to fulfil his personal desires.      This short road leads down to the old Cemetery of Montmartre, hidden away just below street level in an old tree lined quarry where dozens of the illustrious dead including Zola , Degas, Berlioz and Offenbach are buried. 

 

A bit further on down rue Lepic is the only remaining original windmill in Montmartre, le Moulin de Gallette  the notorious  can-can club immortalised by Renoir in his paintings and where it is said that some of the girls occasionally forgot to put on their underwear before a show.   What a marvellous piece of early marketing that must have been ,  guaranteed to bring the punters back time and time again , just in case it was true.

      

The Place du Tertre is a bit touristy,  but still an exciting place to be , full of artists and bohemians of one kind or another .   La Bonne Franquette  the absinthe bar where Lautrec , Van Gogh and their arty crowd would regularly get legless on a potentially lethal green cocktail called the earthquake  is still there , now a popular restaurant with freshly painted facade .   This smart little square leads on up to the very top of the hill ( le Butte ) and the white domes of the  Sacre Coeur , the highest point in Paris with breathtaking  views over the whole city.  

The Musee de Montmartre ,  only a couple of streets away was once a private house and lived in at various times by Renoir , Dufy , Suzanne Valladon and her mad son Utrillo .  It looks  like a tiny place from the outside but once through the little side gate reveals a superb garden and an immaculately  restored building that still retains that  lived in feeling .  From the upstairs windows you can look down upon the posh side of the area where many of the rich and famous – Jean Paul Gaultier still has a house in rue Frochot – and as far as I know he still lives there.