The Apex of lunchtime walking

27th Feb 2018

I decided to walk to 'The Apex'. A brown tower block, a clearly visible landmark  from the train window every morning. It looked like a regular block of flats but for the brown chimney-like edifice on the front bearing it's name. In large plastic letters in a typeface from an earlier age. From the train I'd imagined it as the headquarters of some sort of bizarre state organisation. The Avengers, The Men from UNCLE, that sort of thing.

The Apex was at the limits of the distance I could travel in a lunchtime (without resorting to running or walking too fast). On route I passed a disused/up for sale police station in a brown block building (60s?). The words 'Police' and 'Peterbrough' visible above the door in spectral form. A sign of austere times perhaps, a retreat from the beat.

By contrast, just the other side of the river, the 'Fletton Quays ' development. Featuring 'high spec' flats as well as shops and a new Council Office. The computer generated mock up on the advert almost identical to those in almost identical developments elsewhere. Showing virtual reality well dressed professional types drinking coffee outside a poorly disguised Costa. And a man dressed in a gold suit and top hat, a human statue, looking like an alien ringmaster presiding over a circus of sterility. At least the word 'luxury' wasn't evident in the marketing, which is something I suppose.

I reached the Apex, not far away the other side of the main road. It seemed opposite to the new development, not just in proximity. I learned later that the building was formerly an office occupied by Emap, the publish/publication subscription service company. I remembered the name from working in a Government Department which purchased some obscure (and undoubtedly dull) publications from them. In around 2003, according to Skyscraper News, the building was sold for residential development. So no Avengers or Men from UNCLE. Unless in a 'private' capacity. Could a 'John Steed' be dwelling within? Or at least a radio ham, broadcasting and intercepting numbers stations from the top floor? I doubt I will ever know.

I made it back to work with 1 minute to spare.

Anonymous?

Mon 26th Feb, 2018

Needed to buy lunch having left mine at home during my somnambulant departure this morning. A combination of biting cold and hunger made me dither in deciding what to have. Feeling harassed, I ended up walking (at some pace) down various streets adjacent to the main shopping area, hoping for random inspiration. Conscious of limited time and the need to procure an emergency umbrella to keep at the office. The threat of snow had reminded me of this necessity.

A lamp post on one of these side streets has a yellow sticker depicting the Guy Fawkes mask. The one associated with V for Vendetta and later adopted by the people collectively known as 'Anonymous'.

This made me think about my own anonymity while walking around. Am I anonymous? I hoped so. I assume that nobody takes any notice of me on my lunchtime perambulations. I imagine I just look like an office worker in an overcoat. On quiet side streets, when there are people, I walk with purpose to give the impression I know where i'm going. But maybe I've already been clocked as some sort of stranger. A Nosey Parker. Someone from the council. A spy. Or just a nutter.

I walked through the Queensgate Shopping Centre, having thought about going to John Lewis for a Fulton umbrella. The shopping mall was stifling, as I should have known it would be. Having briefly joined the blank shuffling shoppers, becoming one of them momentarily, I abandoned my search for John Lewis and walked in any direction to escape the overheated piped music hell. Not thinking clearly, having to give up the mini-quest for the Fulton.

Back outside, a hastily procured lunch at a chain noodle joint before securing a cheaper but far inferior Dunlop umbrella from Sports Direct. Then heading back to work slightly late and under-refreshed. But hopefully still at least anonymous.

On Broadway......

23rd Febuary, 2018

Friday, last day of my first full week. Short walk to the City Market. Curry and rice for lunch from the food hall (only £3). I'd planned to explore the market a bit more but was put off by Phil Collins' 'In the air tonight' being piped out of somewhere. Forced away by this unwelcome aural intrusion, I found myself on Broad Street.

I was drawn to the Broadway Theatre. From the outside, more like a seaside theatre or bingo hall than something found on New York Broadway or in London's West End. Sort of  slightly dilapidated art deco. The white and blue tiny mosaic tiles have a seaside quality. They hark back to an age when public lavatories were not clad with plastic, were more prevalent and were free (but probably more dangerous).

The window above in particular brought back memories of holidays in places like Great Yarmouth in the 70s and 80s. The weird seaside architecture of swimming pools, changing rooms, amusement arcades and (again) public loos.

I noticed amongst the events scheduled for the impressively diverse forthcoming programme: 'Doomwatch'. Disspointingly not an adaptation of the 70s BBC science fiction series. The advert resembled a still from the sort of poor quality conspiracy theory TV often found at the fag end of a flick through the freeview channels. The headline 'challenging conventional wisdom, seeking answers' suitably vague.

I went back to work. Friday. Short lunch, early escape.