In this land of changeable weather it should no surprise that today is damp and dull. It wasn’t actually raining and it was mild (around 9°C) so we set out bravely, wandering more or less as fancy dictated.

The Angel Crossroads

This view of the Angel crossroads will give an idea of the conditions and of the dull light that infuses the photos.

Friend Street

We walked down Goswell Road and turned into the somewhat nondescript Friend Street. As urban roads go, this one has a slightly unusual feature.

Street barrier

It has been cut into two pieces by a barrier. The barrier can be unlocked, if necessary, by the emergency services but otherwise remains closed to traffic.

London Councils are implementing “traffic calming” measures, as part of which, some streets have been blocked in order to prevent their use as “rat runs” and to direct traffic back onto main roads. I don’t think this is the case here, though, as the usual method employed is to install bollards across the road, not substantial barriers like this. Perhaps this one belongs to a previous set of road closures.

Hermit Street Open Space

On the corner of Friend Street with Hermit Street is one of Islington’s smallest parks or gardens. It rejoices in the rather unimaginative name of Hermit Street Open Space. Currently, the gate is chained shut, preventing access.

Bug hotels

Looking over the railings, I could see a feature that pleased me: no less than three bug hotels. In the form of heaps of pieces of wood, they provide shelter for the smaller creatures, giving them a chance to breed and prosper. There was one oddity, however.

A wooden horse

The top element on the nearest heap struck us both as resembling a horse. Careful scrutiny revealed that that is exactly what it is, carved but unpainted. Was it a project that someone started and never finished? All guesses are likely to be wrong!

Mournful-looking St John Street

Friend Street led us eventually out into St John Street, looking rather mournful in the damp, cloudy weather. You might have caught on to the fact that this is bringing us round in a circle and leading us to somewhere familiar.

Rosebery Avenue

We crossed St John Street into Rosebery where you can see, on the right, the Sadlers Wells Theatre.

Spa Green

Tigger suggested we walk through Spa Green and I accepted this happy proposition.

“I thought you might like to see your friends, the pigeons,” she said.

How well she knows me!

Male pigeon courting a female

The pigeon colony was present and active. I took several photos but will bore you with only two. Above shows a male courting a female, cooing alluringly while rotating to show off his finery. Sadly, his efforts met with no success and he departed to try his luck elsewhere.

Victory, a fine pigeon perch

The second pigeon photo shows a silhouette of Finsbury War Memorial. If the sculptor, Thomas Rudge, had intended to built a pigeon perch he could not have made a better job of it than this winged Victory holding aloft a laurel wreath. When alarmed by dogs or noisy humans or when they simply want a quiet place to rest, the pigeons find a safe perch on Victory.

Myddelton Passage

We, bidding the adieu to the pigeons, crossed the Avenue and entered Myddelton Passage which I have photographed and described many times already. You might be able to see the vine along the top of the pub garden wall. It is still without leaves or grapes and looks quite dead. Is it, though, or will it flourish again when spring comes? I shall keep an anxious eye on it.

Abandoned chair

Walking along River Street, we encountered yet another abandoned chair. How many have we seen so far? I have lost count. I wonder whether this is the result of people working from home and finding that the chair that was adequate for surfing the Web in the evening was not so comfortable a seat for the whole of a working day. Does anyone ever take on these orphans and give them a good home?

We called at the pharmacy

We had now reached Myddelton’s deli but first, we had business at the pharmacy which is handily situated next door but one to it.

Our business transacted, we were free to call in at Myddelton’s for our coffee. Carrying this home, completed the loop of our walk.

Though the weather was not of the best, the rain held off and we saw numerous things to interest us. With coffee as the final reward, what more could anyone want? 🙂

When my phone’s alarm clock woke me this morning, I remembered that when I came to bed, I had brought the central heating controller with me and put it on the bedside table. Good! I could turn on the heating and wait in bed for the flat to warm up.

In our tiny flat, the heating boiler resides on a wall in the bedroom and when it is active, a green light shines from a switch to one side. Today, the green light came on and that was that, as far as I was concerned.

After a while, however, I noticed the silence. When the boiler starts up, first you hear the thrum of the motor and then a steadily rising whine which eventually fades to silence. Today, I could hear none of those sounds.

I hopped out of bed and put my hand on the radiator. It should have been at least a little warm by now. It wasn’t. It was cold. I went to the bathroom and turned on the hot tap in the basin. Nothing. The water remained cold.

My next step was to open the boiler’s control panel. Two of the set of lights labelled A to D were flashing red. Not good. Then I checked the pressure. The needle was at the top of the green sector. So that was OK.

When they installed the heating, they explained to me that if the boiler failed to work, I should check the pressure. If it had fallen, I should twist open the two taps below the boiler and when the pressure reached the green, twist them shut. Over the years, I have done this many times but today there was surely no point as the needle was already in the green. Nonetheless, I gave it a short burst with the result that the needle bounced up and then resumed its position.

Still no response from the boiler…

I waited as patiently as I could for 8:30. This is the time at which the Council’s repair service opens for business. I called and obeyed the instruction to “Press One for gas boiler and heating problems”. I was rewarded with the sound of some awful music and, after a while, a recorded voice intoning “You are number… 2… in the queue.”

When a human answered at last, I recognised her voice. I have spoken to her many times in the past. She is unfailingly polite and pleasant; she listens to what you say; and does her best to help, usually with success.

I recounted my story of the malfunctioning boiler, explaining about the red lights and saying “I checked the pressure and the needle is in the green-“. Uncharacteristically, she interrupted me at this point.

“You need to increase the pressure,” she asserted. “Beneath the boiler there are two taps…”

It was my turn to interrupt. I felt she was not listening to me and so I politely reiterated that it can’t be the pressure because the needle was in the green.

“It has to be at one-point-five,” she stated.

“One-point-five?” I repeated mystified. “Not just in the green?”

“It has to be at one-point-five,” she repeated firmly, as to a child who is being obtuse.

Only half-convinced, I proposed doing as she bid me while we were still connected. She kindly agreed. At the boiler, I had to put the phone down while I twisted the taps. I left the taps open until the needle hit the top of the scale, then closed them. I picked up the phone and said:

“The red lights have gone out.”

“Yes,” she said. “They will, at one-point-five.”

I proposed going for the controller and trying the heating with her still on the phone. Polite as ever, she agreed.

I fetched the controller and set the temperature to 22°. I was rewarded with the thrumming sound of the motor and the rising wine.

“It’s working,” I said, relieved.

“Yes, it will at one-point-five,” said she.

I thanked her fulsomely and we parted amiably, as ever.

As I write this, the flat is warm, I have washed to dishes in lovely hot water and taken a bath. All’s well with my world.

Life is truly fine at one-point-five!