“It’s strange to see the area so still and silent”: A walk around Elephant & Castle at dawn

The Elephant and Castle shopping centre, which is to be demolished.Credit: Getty

It’s 4am and it’s cool, dark and foggy. There’s hardly anyone on the streets of Elephant and Castle as I begin my dawn wander outside the wildly unattractive shopping centre.

Opened in 1965, it was the first covered shopping mall in Europe, and is today shabby and full of character. It’s home to Latin American cafés, Castle Tandoori – an Indian restaurant largely unchanged since the 1980s – £1-a-go massage chairs, and, until recently, Palace Bingo. The latter shut its doors in April, among the first of many closures to hit the shopping centre in upcoming months as its vendors prepares for imminent demolition.  

During the day, the centre is a lively stomping ground for many local pensioners from diverse backgrounds, predominantly African and Caribbean, and it’s strange to see the area surrounding the centre, usually buzzing with life, so still and silent. It strikes me how strange and sad it will be when it’s no longer there.  

Walworth, like most areas of London, is undergoing extensive change. I’m reminded of this every time I find myself in the area.  As I walk towards East Street, I survey the places that no longer exist: the Tibetan Buddhist Centre that was located in a former Victorian bathhouse, the Cuming Museum, which has remained closed since a fire in 2013, the Heygate Estate – now replaced by Elephant Park. 

I pass by the ArtWorks; an odd ill-placed pop-up of shipping containers housing restaurants, start-ups, and a small library frequented by locals. Just across the road, tucked at the end of Hampton Street behind the 43-storey Strata tower, which was in 2010 voted Britain’s Ugliest New Building, stands the United Reform Church. The church hosts a weekly community canteen run by charity Be Enriched. Locals, often vulnerable adults and rough sleepers, gather at the church to enjoy a free meal and chat about everything under the sun, from zombie apocalypses to the housing crisis and the gentrification of the area.  

An elderly man emerges from the fog; he’s wearing a top hat and hobbling along with his walking stick. Startled, I smile awkwardly and say good morning, he smiles back and nods. I wonder where he’s going at this time. I keep walking down the street, passing by East Street Market, one of London’s oldest, largest and busiest markets. There’s a blue plaque stuck to the building by the entrance marking the birthplace of Charlie Chaplin.

The market, which is notably featured in the opening credits of Only Fools and Horses, will come to life this afternoon, drawing in crowds of people. Its stalls sell everything from fruit and veg to suitcases, antiques, and underwear. You’ll often see the same characters frequenting the stalls, dressed in eccentric outfits and chatting to the sellers. At this time, a few empty stalls have been put out, shrouded in mist, a man stands beside them. I float by.


A greasy spoon on the high street is lit up, the shutters are half closed. There are plasters strewn across the pavement. I pass by shops and supermarkets, bus stops, beauty salons and pawn brokers. I reach the top of Liverpool Grove and glance up. St Peter’s Church, the first church designed by Sir John Soane, the architect behind the Bank of England, stands tall and looks slightly out of place in the area. During the blitz local people would seek shelter in its crypt, 30 people were killed when a bomb hit it. The crypt, recently restored, is now a community space and café. During the colder months it provides shelter to those sleeping rough.   

I keep walking down the High Street until I come to a junction, where I cross the road and wander into Burgess park. I walk up the steep wildflower mounds – relishing in finding a bit of countryside in London. Birds fly over my head; the flowers are beginning to bloom. From the hills, I look out at the Ayelesbury Estate and Divine Rescue Shelter (another soon-to be-gone soup kitchen) and the Shard. 

I walk pass the almshouses in Chumleigh Gardens, established by the Friendly Female Society, the sheltered housing was run by and for women, operating “by love, kindness, and absence of humbug”.  Hidden inside the gardens in the courtyard of the almshouse there’s multi-cultural garden, built to reflect the area’s diversity. In the Islamic Garden at the back there’s a sculpture depicting local hero Kieb Thomas, a community activist and teacher. The gardens, now closed, are a hidden gem providing peace and quiet in an otherwise noisy and heavily populated space.   

I continue through the park, pausing by the lake. Surrounding the much-used outdoor barbeques are piles of rubbish. A fox is trawling through it. A cleaner wearing high-vis is walking around, surveying the damage with an expression of disgust on his face; he takes photos of the litter. I climb the hill, and from its summit I take in the view; the tall glass buildings of Canary Wharf, and the local gems like New Peckham Mosque, a place of workshop frequented largely by the Turkish Cypriot community and housed inside a Grade 1 listed church. Finally, I take a seat on the grass and wait for the sun to rise.  

 
 
 
 

TfL is offering you the chance to stop two proposed Bakerloo line stations from having stupid names

Bakerloo line trains at London Road depot, mournfully wishing they could continue their journey to the south. Image: Getty.

Ever wanted to name a tube station? Well boy is this your lucky week. The latest round of Transport for London's interminable consultation on the proposed extension of the Bakerloo line from Elephant & Castle to Lewisham, hopefully due to arrive at some point in the early 2030s, is asking your input into names.

Necessary background blah blah blah. The most efficient way of running a metro line is to have it cross the city. The Central Line, for example, doesn't just allow west Londoners to get into the city centre: it allows east Londoners to do the same, and for everyone to get about within the city centre to boot. All that and it's only one line. Amazing really, isn't it?

But the Bakerloo line, unusually, isn't doing all this, because it gets to the south-eastern-most edge of the city centre and then gives up. That doesn't just mean that south east London remains the bit of the capital most poorly served by TfL's rail network, although it does mean that – there are no stations inside the yellow box here, look:

The tube/rail desert, with the rough location of the proposed new stations marked. Image: Google Maps.

It also means that the line through the centre isn't pulling its weight compared to every other line, because it's a lot more useful to commuters coming from the north west than from the south east. That's great if you want to get a seat for the six minutes it takes to get from Elephant to Embankment. It's not great if you're, say, in charge of London's transport network and want to sweat your assets.

Anyway, the plan for some time has been to extend the line under New and Old Kent Roads, down to New Cross Gate and Lewisham. A later phase may see it take over the Hayes branch of the South Eastern Rail network, but one thing at a time. The official map of the proposal looks like this:

Ooooh. Image: TfL.

Old Kent Road 1 and Old Kent Road 2 are obviously rubbish names for stations, so the latest round of consultation suggests some alternatives: Old Kent Road or Burgess Park for the northern one, Old Kent Road or Asylum for the southern.

CityMetric has long argued that naming stations after roads is stupid: either the road is long enough that it's not a useful name because who knows if you’re at the right end or not, or short enough that it's only useful to people who already know an area. The fact that two different stations might revel in the name Old Kent Road seems to me to prove this point pretty nicely – so if I had my way TfL would go with Burgess Park and Asylum. The latter, named for both Asylum Road and, well, what used to be an asylum, seems particularly cool to me.

Alternatively, buses terminating at the former have sometimes said "Old Kent Road Dun Cow" after a long dead pub, and naming a tube station after some livestock is amusing too, so, Dun Cow, why not?


Meanwhile the latter site, next to the junction between Asylum Road and the Old Kent Road, is sometimes known as Canal Bridge, because it used to be where the Old Kent Road crossed the Surrey Canal. The latter is long gone – although more bridges across it remain in Burgess Park, which is nicely surreal – but naming tube stations after two things that aren't there any more would be amusing too.

Anyway, the point is: please don't call either of these stations Old Kent Road, the world is confusing enough as it is. Now go vote.

Incidentally, one thing TfL has already decided is that there won't be a third Old Kent Road station, at its northernmost point, the Bricklayers Arms junction. This seems a shame to me, but I suppose they know what they're doing.

Jonn Elledge is the editor of CityMetric. He is on Twitter as @jonnelledge and on Facebook as JonnElledgeWrites.

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