Words in the media: Crunch

If you’ve been reading the British press over the last few years, and in particular the coverage of the global financial crisis, there is one phrase that you will have found keeps cropping up: the credit crunch.

The term “credit crunch” relates to the lack of available credit, particularly the reluctance of banks to lend to each other (a practice known as interbank lending). Credit crunch is a suitably dramatic-sounding phrase that works well on TV and in newspaper stories, especially in headlines (where it can be simplified to just crunch when space is limited).

The word crunch lierally means to crush food between the teeth as when you bite into an apple. It can also suggest a sudden, powerful movement, such as the violent, metallic grinding sound produced when a car driver tries to change gear suddenly (known as crunching the gears). There is, I suppose, a cognitive similarity between this and the sudden shift in normal banking practice that caused an important mechanism in the economy to instantly seize up.

A large number of financial English phrases depict money and capital as a liquid (liquidity, currency, cash-flow, cash injection, etc). The image, then, of this liquid suddenly not flowing (as, for example, when we talk about funding drying up, or turning off the tap) or becoming solid (as in freezing someone’s assets) suggests that the financial engine of a business has stalled; there is an interruption to the flow of capital that it needs to keep running. Likewise, the credit crunch is both a metaphor for the sudden malfunction of the banking and finance sectors due to the absence of liquidity; and, of course, it’s also a description of the impact this has had on the wider economy as companies, in particular retailers and manufacturers – and consumers – are suddenly unable to operate because the machinery of financial institutions and markets have ground to a halt.

There are a number of ideas associated with “crunch”. The most common of these is that of eating something crunchy, such as an apple or a slice of toast. In order to crunch something it has to be hard to begin with but is then physically broken down by the action of one’s molars crushing it. Compare this to chewing, which is similar, but which involves a slightly different process. When you chew something, such as chewing gum or nougat you grind it between your back teeth, but instead of destroying or transforming its structure you are simply softening it while it retains its essential integrity. For example, if you chew a piece of meat it’s still a piece of meat when you swallow it. A bolus (the “ball” of food you make with your mouth) of apple or toast on the other hand has lost all its original texture (otherwise you would choke as it went down).

Crunch also suggests the act of biting into something (as in the expression to crunch into an apple), while chew implies that you have already either bitten off a piece or cut up something which is now entirely inside your mouth. (Think of the English expression to bite off more than you can chew.) If you were eating something which is chewy but too large to put in your much all at once (such as a Curlywurly, a popular sweet (confectionery) in Britain circa 1975, which consisted of long plaited strips of toffee dipped in chocolate), you would still have to bite off part of the Curlywurly before you could chew it.)

On the subject of confectionery nostalgia, the Double Decker (does it still exist?) consisted of a crunchy chocolate biscuit layer with a chewy soft nougat layer on top. The whole thing was coated in milk chocolate and the TV advertising that accompanied it (inevitably accounting for more than half of its appeal) featured legendary bearded political satirist and whimsical humorist Willy Rushden insisting that the Double Decker was alternately chewy and crunchy. (I suppose you really have to be British to appreciate this; it’s similar to listening to Italians discussing exactly which sugo (sauce) you need to have with farfalle (bow-tie pasta) in order to get exactly the right taste-texture sensation – the narcissism of small difference writ large?)

Crunchie, a honeycomb bar covered in chocolate, was (and indeed still is) crunchy. It’s classic advertising slogan “Get that Friday feeling” neatly combined the exploited worker’s alienation from his / her labour (you’re only happy when the weekend is nearly here) with the consumer’s ever-present desire for (and belief in) instant gratification (Why wait till Friday to feel happy? Have a chocolate bar now and it’ll cheer you up, even though it’s Monday morning.)

The expression number cruncher, which means someone who works with figures, usually statistics, is a slightly derogatory way of describing a person who only focuses on calculations and quantities, perhaps at the expense of imagination or creativity. (A similar prejudice is demonstrated by calling an accountant or book-keeper a bean counter.)

Crunch can also mean “important” or “critical” as in the phrases crunch time / moment or a crunch vote in Parliament or the US House / Senate (a decisive vote). Perhaps here, the underlying idea is that something is irrevocable and the players are under enormous pressure. I have the image of rocks being smashed together under an intolerable force, violently producing a dramatic result. I seem to remember something from school geography about metamorphic rock (marble?) being created this way (as opposed to igneous or sedimentary rock).

It’s also reminiscent of the car crunchers (or crushers) that were obligatory in every US police or detective show of the 1970s. In a scrapyard (junkyard, US) an outsize Ford or Thunderbird is grabbed by a huge magnet at the end of a chain hanging down from a swing arm. The car dangles in the air, swaying like a condemned criminal dispatched on a gibbet. Finally the arm swings round and the electro-magnet is suddenly cut. The car falls into the demonic jaws of a crusher, where it is pounded and buckled into a compact metallic cube, which the machine spits out onto a conveyor belt. A multi-layered symbol, the car crusher stands variously for:

• an immediate threat (quite often the driver would still be in the car, at the mercy of the mob boss waiting to give the signal – a raised cigar – to the crane operator)
• the brutality and callousness of the disposable consumer culture, chewing up and spitting out not only used cars, but also surplus Motown labour and dwindling natural resources
• a stand-in for the destroyer god in polytheistic religions (such as the Hindu divinity Kali). The feeding arm and the hydraulic jaws suggest a powerful (and hungry) being that must be propitiated, like the Minotaur. This seems to play on our deep-seated fear of becoming someone else’s lunch (and the unintentionally terrifying promise of overbearing Jewish grandparents that “Oy, I could eat you!” which their diminutive descendant may not realise is actually metaphorical)

The car crusher is invariably stopped at the very last moment by the hero (literally) putting a spanner in the works. (A device used in countless Hollywood films, including perhaps most memorably the Coen Brother’s Art Deco critique of American capitalism, The Hudsucker Proxy.) The gears crunch, the grinding jaws are suspended in a quivering, twitching vibrato that lasts just long enough for the potential victim to escape, followed immediately by the resumption of the screeching and growling of metal against metal (although with a slightly different twist in The Hudsucker Proxy – watch the DVD). Just so with the economic recovery, the anticipated resumption of business as normal – the newly-lubricated wheels of industry are starting to turn again. Capitalism may be a bad thing but the effects of a financial system coming to a halting, crunching end (with little sign of a revolution to follow) seem a lot worse. (Perhaps a case of the devil you know…).

On a final alimentary (food) note, the word crunch in Anglo-Saxon FMCG (Fast-Moving Consumer Goods) marketing seems reserved for products made from nuts (including crunchy peanut butter) or for (sweet) biscuits. It is not normally applied to savoury things, such as crisps (patatine), which, however, in Italian are considered “croccante” (crunchy). Crisp in English suggests a certain brittleness of texture, while crunchy implies that something would bear at least several bites – i.e. it would have a certain durability or resistance (like a nut) not present in something as insubstantial as a crisp.

Life in Italy and in the UK: some differences (1) Appearance

I have now been living in Milan for almost two years so I’ve had many opportunties to compare life in Italy with that in the UK. Some of the differences are obvious (orange trams v red buses, for example), while some are more subtle and take a while to appreciate fully, such as the varying attitudes towards authority, public institutions and figures – and, of course, religion – between the two countries.

Living in a foreign country you become an observer of the people you see every day, a sort of amateur social anthropologist, so I suppose most of the differences between living in Britain and living in Italy are simply due to the fact that most people here are Italian. Consequently, it’s impossible to separate living in Italy from the fact of being surrounded by Italians (and, of course, not being Italian yourself).

The most obvious difference between the Italians and the Brits is their relative appearance. This is especially true in Milan, where your appearance counts for a lot (if not quite everything). When I first arrived in Milan I was inevitably struck by the fact that walking down the street in this city is the closest you can come to attending a fashion show. (Let’s face it, it actually is a fashion show). Even after two years I am constantly surprised by the level of attention and thought that some people have obviously put into the act of getting dressed to go out. And I’m not talking about over-the-top clubbers on their way to a Rocky Horror theme night; no, I mean someone who’s gone to the post office and is standing in the queue to withdraw some cash from their savings account, but before leaving the house has transformed themselves into Katherine Hepburn waiting in the lobby of the Cairo Hilton for a telegram from the Aga Khan. After a while it seems – if not quite normal, then at least commonplace – to see ladies of a certain age in fur coats (and matching fur hats) with elaborate candyfloss hair and enough gold to stock a small Bond Street jewellers. Or perhaps it’ll be a willowy, wannabe supermodel in white drainpipe jeans, leopardskin bolero and outsize Aviators (which always remind me of a fly) tottering along the pavement on six-inch heels, dragging the obligatory chihuahua in red PVC trimmed with gold piping – and this is simply someone coming out of a delicatessen clutching a plastic bag full of cheese and ham, on their way their home to have their tea.

Of course Milan is the global capital of fashion – or of the fashion industry, at any rate – and even people from other regions consider the Milanese ultra-stylish. But paying close attention to the way you look and dress is, of course, an essential element in the make-up of all Italians. As a Brit with virtually no interest in my own clothes, other than that they are comfortable and (generally) clean, the Italian obsession with appearance can sometimes feel like a pervasive and slightly indulgent neurosis; a shared hang-up that’s simply got out of hand, to the extent that it would now seem churlish mentioning to someone that in the quarter of an hour they’ve just spent picking lint off their jumper they could have read an Economist article on quantitative easing.

Every culture defines itself by giving greater weight to things that outsiders generally consider trivial or irrelevant. While it’s a cliché, for instance, that the British always talk about the weather and are obsessed with tea, it is nonethless true that a typical English conversation in the UK will include a consideration of the seasonality (or otherwise) of the snow or rain that we’ve been having recently. (And if you don’t mind, I’d much rather you put the milk in first. In fact, it always tastes much better if you make it in a teapot...) It would be odd, then, if only some Italians – the Milanese, say – were image-mad, while appearance was of little or no concern to other Italians; as it is, the brand horses trotting between the boutiques of Milan’s quadrilateral (the four streets that border the main haute-couture shopping district) are simply expressing in a somewhat exaggerated way a tendency that is present in all their countrymen (and especially countrywomen).

Being polite in English

A lot of visitors to Britain are often struck by how polite the English are. If you go into a shop in Britain (particularly in a small town or village) you will often find that the shop assistant is almost excessively polite (or courteous). (It’s also possible, of course, that they will be quite brusque or even rude, especially if you are in a supermarket or large out-of-town retail park, but let’s stay with the cultural stereotype for the time being.) If you visit a small, independent shop (not part of a large chain) you will generally find that the person serving you – particularly if it’s the owner – is extremely courteous.


Making polite noises

When you are ready to pay for the goods you have chosen, the shopkeeper will probably ask you a question such as “Is that everything?” or “Have you got everything you need?” If your answer is in the affirmative (“Yes” or ideally, “Yes, thank you”) they will then tell you the total you have to pay – followed, naturally, by “Please” or “Thank you”:

“That’s £15.28 (“fifteen pounds, twenty-eight”), please / Thanks.”

You will then hand over the money. Let’s say you give the shopkeeper (or sales assistant) a twenty pound note. You could say “There you are” or “There you go” – and here most English people would add a “Thanks” or “Thank you”.

The shopkeeper takes the money: “Thank you. That’s twenty pounds.” They then calculate how much change to give you and count out the coins: “Right, that’s four (pounds) seventy-two change”. You, of course, say “Thank you” and the shopkeeper may say “Thank you” as well.

The shopkeeper may then ask you; “Would you like a bag?”. If you need one, you can say, “Yes, please”; if not, say “No thank you.” Of course, if you are not offered a bag you can ask, “Can I have a bag, please.” The shopkeeper will reply, “Certainly” or “Yes, of course.” Don’t forget to add another “thank you” when they hand you the bag or put your purchases in the bag and give it to you. They will then reply, “You're welcome” or perhaps “Thank YOU” stressing the “you”. As you leave the shop (or move away from the counter if you are in a large store) you should say “Bye” and add a “thank you” for good measure.

Does this seem excessively (and even ridiculously) polite to you? If your answer is “Yes” then the chances are that you are not British. Conversely, British people travelling abroad often find foreigners quite rude. Another problem facing native English speakers is that when they use what for them is the “normal” level of politeness the person they are speaking to may actually think they are being (mildly) sarcastic.

Expressions of politeness are undoubtedly influenced by the culture you belong to – but British English in particular seems to be in the “Champions League” of politeness, with only some other languages, such as Japanese, perhaps, demonstrating a higher level of deference. So, if you’re going to visit Britain my advice to you is to mind your “P’s and Q’s” (i.e. (that is) make sure you say “please” and “thank you”) and if you are not sure what to say, say something polite: it will always be appreciated.


Conversation: In a Bookshop

A tourist enters a small bookshop in London, ringing the bell as they open the door. The shopkeeper appears.

Shopkeeper: Hello. How can I help you?

Customer: Oh, hello. I was wondering if you’ve got a guide to places of interest in London (please).

Shopkeeper: Yes, of course. We’ve got a couple of tourist guides in our London section. Come this way, please.

(Customer follows the shopkeeper).

The shopkeeper shows the guides to the customer, who picks one and then they move back to the counter.

Shopkeeper: Right, so that’s “Visting London in A Day” and that’s £12.20 (twelve (pounds) twenty), please OR thank you very much.

Customer: (Giving the shopkeeper a twenty pound note): Thank you.

Shopkeeper: (Taking the banknote). That’s twenty pounds thank you. Would you happen to have the twenty (pence), please?

Customer: Oh, let me see. (Looks in purse). Yes, there you are. (Gives the shopkeeper the coin). Thank you

Shopkeeper: That’s lovely, Thank you. (Gives the customer their change). And that’s four pounds. Thank you.

Customer: Thank you.

Shopkeeper: Would you like a bag?

Customer: Oh, yes, please. (Thank you.)

Shopkeeper: (Puts the book in a bag and hands it to the customer.) There you go. Thank you very much.

Customer: Thank you.

Shopkeeper: Thank YOU.

Customer: (Leaving the shop) Thanks a lot. Bye.

Shopkeeper. You’re very welcome. See you again soon.

Customer: Bye.

Interview with an independent music producer

How do you get on in the music business if you aren't Timbaland's cousin? And what about the hurdles, pitfalls and Faustian pacts that the industry is notorious for?

In this interview I conducted in 2004 for Focus West, a digital media business support project in West London, I spoke to "Little" Wayne Antoine, an indie producer who has worked with some of the top names in the business, including Craig David and Jamelia.

Making it big: Little Wayne talks to Focus West
“Little Wayne” Antoine has worked in many studios including Groove and a Quarter and Jetstars' Cave studio and with some of the music industry's best-known artists including Craig David, Jamelia, and Daniel Debourg. He was also one half of the Silent Voice production team. However, he always aspired to having a studio of his own.

Wayne realised his dream when, along with business partner Pavan (Stixman) Chavda, he founded Poisonous Music, an independent music business based in West London. The company now comprises a record label, recording studios and production teams.

Wayne and Pavan met while at school. They went from running a sound system to producing their own material, and eventually produced tracks for Stixman, who was signed to an independent record label.

Originally a DJ, Wayne acquired many of the skills needed in record production "on the job" and found himself more inclined to the engineering side of the business. He also studied at the School of Audio Engineering and got jobs as a sound engineer in London. Wayne's technical understanding of sound engineering, combined with his musical background, enabled him to appreciate both sides of the business. And by 2000 he was managing the studio and record label he had developed with Pavan.

Poisonous Music expanded when DJ Daniel (Baby Boom) Francis joined the team. The current line-up is completed by JP, producer and studio engineer, and Anita (Neetz) Patel, who is in charge of promotion and marketing.

Wayne has learnt to recognise the importance of getting the business side of things right. When he needed expert advice on developing a business plan he turned to the Business Enterprise Centre (BEC) in West London. He also received support from the Prince's Trust.

The music industry has developed rapidly over the last ten years, especially in the development and ready availability of reliable, affordable technology. Wayne points out that the competition for recording studios now includes people at home with laptops. High-end studios are suffering, and can no longer rely on what was traditionally their technological advantage. But Wayne also sees this as a good thing and says that competition is vigorous and stimulates creativity.

Record companies are merging as the market consolidates. Wayne sees this as an opportunity for the independents, and he believes the future for Poisonous will be in production. With fewer A&R people signing the big acts and investing in talent, the majors are relying more and more on smaller production companies who can provide a ready-made "package" which the large record companies can then take to market.

Smaller, edgier acts are seen as more of a financial risk by the industry, although it is often creative artists from the underground, such as Dizzee Rascal, who reinvigorate the mainstream music scene.

Digital technology has created new problems as well as opportunities. The threat of peer-to-peer file-sharing networks, such as KaZaa and Grokster is taken seriously by the industry: kids just don't buy singles anymore. However, Wayne also points out that new markets have opened up, such as ringtones, which now outsell singles. Opportunities still exist for writers, music publishers and performers. In fact, the situation is improving, with a resurgence of interest in watching live music, despite the downward trend in record sales.

For people starting out in the creative industries, Wayne's advice is to concentrate on developing your skills and creativity in your chosen art form, but to not neglect the business of things. Making contacts and networking are essential. Wayne was originally a studio manager and gradually took over the studio's client list. While advertising can be expensive and isn't always effective, word of mouth is often the best way of getting known - and certainly costs a lot less. Publicity and PR is often more direct than advertising, and exposure in the music press carries more weight because it's seen as impartial. Following a write-up by the Business Enterprise Centre, Wayne found himself on the cover of HFM magazine: that's the sort of publicity you just can't buy.

Wayne stresses the importance of getting sound, impartial business advice and support early on. He particularly benefited from the Business Enterprise Centre's "Surviving into the Mainstream" programme. This was set up to support women and black and minority ethnic (BME) creative practitioners. Not having had a break from work for over a year, he found it really useful to share experiences and ideas with other creative people on the residential week-end courses. People in the creative industries often work on their own or in small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs): getting together with fellow professionals was a great opportunity - and he found everyone he met was facing the same problems in running their creative business: raising finance, dealing with late payers, negotiating contracts, struggling with red tape, etc. Without the chance to share experiences and discuss solutions you'd be on your own, according to Wayne.

He also received invaluable advice and practical support through BEC's Rent Support Scheme, and recognises that finding affordable workspace is crucial for new creative businesses. Wayne has gone from being someone seeking advice to someone who gives it, and he now often addresses Enterprise Seminars for people setting up their own businesses and talks about the key issues they'll face. The experience of standing up in front of people and talking about the business as an industry insider has also boosted his confidence.

Having got a lot out of being in the music industry, Wayne has also taken practical steps to put something back into the wider community. Media 4 Life, a group he set up in 2003 aims to encourage young people interested in the media/music industry to actively participate in a new and dynamic project. Media 4 Life works particularly with young people who are not in any form of employment, education or training. By providing workshops it provides participants with the relevant skills and knowledge that will both inspire and motivate them to plan for their future and commit to some form of education, employment or training. The workshops are delivered by industry professionals with over 10 years experience in the media/music industry. Media 4 Life aims to give a more holistic view of the media/music industry, highlighting the many different and varied career paths and opportunities available.

Wayne, who has worked with some of the big names in the music business but describes himself as a "background person”, points out: 'It's more than just being a star'. Getting on in the creative industries requires a lot of hard work and setbacks are inevitable. However, by getting aspiring creative practitioners to take a realistic view of the media/music industry, they can discover that there any many possible avenues rather than stardom. Wayne hopes that Media 4 Life will realise young people's potential and help them succeed in whatever area of the business they eventually become involved in.

Media 4 Life has already done two pilot sessions (in June & August of this year), and has opened up the age group from 16 up to 24 years. Media 4 Life runs evening courses and free daytime sessions in all aspects of media and music and the career options available. Both the Business Enterprise Centre and the BBC's Media Village have featured Media 4 Life.

© Robert Dennis for Focus West, 2004

Background
The Focus West project was a business support agency for the digital media sector, based in the Business Enterprise Centre in West London and supported by the London Development Agency and London Borough of Hammersmith and Fulham.

This interview appeared in a section of the website entitled “I Could Do That” – a series of inspirational and informative interviews aimed at giving aspiring creative professionals an insight into the practicalities of setting up their own business.

Digital media articles: Audio branding and recruitment

Here are two articles that I wrote in 2006 for New Media Knowledge, a learning and business information hub for companies and individuals working in UK digital media.

Sounds Subliminal: Branding The Future With Audio
Ringtones, radio and TV audio branding, MP3s and podcasting all offer ways for brands to connect with consumers. This article is a write-up of an event held jointly by NMK and Music Tank. The event looked at how marketers and brands can use audio as a way to engage with consumers in the digital space.
Click here to read the original article on audio branding on the NMK website.


Situations Pretty Vacant
This is a report of a speaker event held by NMK at One Aldwych which looked at how agencies large and small are facing up to the skills shortage. It also examined the strategies agencies are employing to find talented people.
To read this article about the skills gap in the digital media sector on the NMK website, click here.

About NMK
NMK is a not-for-profit body in receipt of public funding. NMK operates across economic boundaries, bringing together knowledge and expertise from commercial companies, professional bodies and higher education to provide objective, independent guidance and promote the success of the UK's digital economy. Since NMK began as New Media Knowledge in 1997, it has been supported by the University of Westminster, one of the UK's leading educational institutions for digital media.

London South Central: Bermondsey Street and the South Bank

This is an article I wrote a few years ago for World Language Consultants Ltd, a language school in Bermondsey Street in South London. Some of the facts have changed (e.g. the Eurostar train terminal that connects Britain to the Continent is now at St Pancras), but most of the places referred to are the same. If you plan to visit the capital it might be a good idea to check some of the tourist websites (such as visitlondon.com) that contain current information on visiting times and prices, etc.

Exploring London South Central
Whether you live in London or are just visiting, you'll find there's plenty to see and do in London South Central. Explore the area's rich history and culture, hunt for bargains in its arcades and markets, and chill out at some of the trendiest cafés and bars in the capital.

London South What ?
London South Central is the new name for one of London's oldest districts. It includes Vauxhall, Waterloo, London Bridge, Bankside and Elephant & Castle. Traditionally, the area has always been seen as charming but dodgy. (In Shakespeare's day the South Bank was as famous for its brothels as its theatres). And in more recent times, taxi drivers have refused to go "south of the river" at night.

But all that is about to change. South London has been smartening up its act, and is attracting a new generation of artisans and professionals who have transformed some of its most run-down areas into thriving local economies. While the attractions of the South Bank are a must for visitors to the capital, there's also plenty to discover in some of the smaller streets tucked away behind the waterfront.

How to get there
The Eurostar terminal at Waterloo [now at St Pancras - and featuring the longest champagne bar in Europe] has brought the area within easy reach of the Continent, and there is also a good rail service to London Bridge and Waterloo stations if just you're coming in to town for the day. If you're already in London, hop on the tube (Jubilee and Northern Line trains stop at London Bridge, while Waterloo connects with the Jubilee, Northern and Bakerloo Line as well.) There are also plenty of buses, and there's even a river bus service, if you really want to arrive in style.

What to see
Go for a spin on the London Eye for a breathtaking bird's-eye view of the capital, and marvel at Sir Norman Foster's London Assembly building near Tower Bridge. Check out Tate Modern art gallery (formerly Bankside power station), Shakespeare's Globe and the Millennium Bridge. Relax in the precincts of Southwark Cathedral, then stroll down to Hay's Galleria and Gabriel's Wharf where you can shop and take in the view from one of the many waterside cafés or bars.

Step back in time
The Thames has always been London's gateway to the wider world, and you don't need to look far to discover Britain's maritime history. Visit Sir Francis Drake's reconstructed ship, The Golden Hinde, at St Mary Overie Dock, or explore HMS Belfast, which played a leading part in the Normandy Landings.

Shakespeare's Globe, a faithful reconstruction of the original theatre, stages open-air plays (take an umbrella just in case) and has a fascinating permanent exhibition about the building in Elizabethan times. To see the darker side of London's history, descend into the South Bank's medieval Clink prison (which is where the expression comes from). And if that's not grisly enough, the London Dungeons in Tooley Street will bring you face to face with the Black Death and Jack the Ripper. (Stick close to the guide, and don't wander off on your own, if you want to make it to the gift shop!)

Make a scene
Playing host to both the Royal National Theatre and the Globe, the South Bank is rightly regarded as the home of drama in London, with the West End having long ago given up any claims to that title. Plays are staged throughout the summer in The Scoop, a modern amphitheatre next to the London Assembly. Head for the Old Vic, where you can currently catch Kevin Spacey's production of Cloaca (until 11 December).

Make it new
If you're looking for Old Masters, you won't find them on the South Bank. (Try the National Gallery, or catch the regular boat service that takes gallery-goers from Tate Modern to Tate Britain). Tate Modern hosts installations and exhibits outsize sculpture in the massive Turbine Hall. It also has cafés, a superb restaurant and a well-stocked bookshop. Further down the South Bank, you'll find the Saatchi Gallery, which boasts Damien Hirst's shark and Tracey Emin's infamous unmade bed. The Hayward Gallery, behind the Royal National Theatre, has a fascinating exhibition, Eyes, Lies & Illusions (until 3 January 2005) which features optical illusions, magic lanterns and all sorts of visual trickery. And if that's not enough, why not pop into the Salvador Dali exhibition in County Hall. Or just enjoy the surrealist statues outside, including Space Elephant (an elephant with spider legs carrying an obelisk on its back.)

Handbags and Glad-rags
While most of London South Central's tourist hot-spots are along the river, there are also some great places to discover away from the South Bank. But Bermondsey Street must surely be the hottest spot of all. Once a desolate wasteland of derelict factories and disused warehouses, it's now home to design studios (including Kurt Geiger), loft apartments and some great restaurants.

Dominating Bermondsey Street is Zandra Rhodes's Fashion and Textile Museum. This striking building, a former warehouse painted bright orange, is also the home of the shocking-pink-haired designer, who lives in the penthouse (complete with palm trees).

Bermondsey Street's latest addition is World Language Consultants Ltd, one of London's longest-established business language schools, which specialises in teaching English and foreign languages to professionals. WLC is located directly opposite the Fashion and Textile Museum, adding a complementary splash of colour to the other side of the street with its distinctive blue door.

Food for thought
London South Central has more than its fair share of great restaurants and cafés.Bermondsey street boasts several superior eateries, including the Delfina Studio Café, the Bermondsey Kitchen and The Garrison, a gastropub with its own cinema in the basement. Other places to check out are Terence Conran's Blue Print restaurant and the Oxo Tower, which has stunning panoramic views. Vinopolis, the museum and temple to the god of wine rolled into one, has an excellent restaurant (with, needless to say, an outstanding wine-list). And fans of Bridget Jones will recognise Borough Market, even if they have yet to sample the unbelievably fresh produce from its specialist gourmet stalls, selling everything from game to white truffle oil.

What makes London South Central exciting and distinctive is its mix of the historical with the ultra-modern: you can find them side by side in its architecture its culture, and its diverse communities of long-established residents and those who have discovered more recently the charms of this unique area.

© Robert Dennis 2004

A day trip to Oxford: iVillage article

Read an article I wrote a while ago about visiting Oxford for the day - without breaking the bank. The article was written for the Travel section of iVillage.co.uk:
Print-and-go: Oxford on a budget

(Note: this link takes a little while to open - but it's well worth the wait.)