Tag Archives: hampstead heath

From West Bengal (India) to a floor in north London

Posted on by
Reply

KENWOOD IN NORTH London (next to Hampstead Heath) is a delightful place to visit at all times of the year. Amongst its attractions are a collection of fine paintings within Kenwood House; architectural features designed by Robert Adam; beautiful grounds with a lake; some modern sculptures; and a refreshment complex housed in the former servants’ quarters and stables. Close to the cafeteria, there are some toilets for use by visitors.

After visiting the ‘gents’ toilet, I looked down at the floor of the passageway leading to it, and saw a square, metal manhole cover. It had some lettering on it. Amongst the lettering, I noticed the following “KIC-INDIA”. Seeing this made me wonder if this manhole cover in north London had been made in India.

When I returned home, I looked at the Internet to see whether I could find out anything about the connection of this manhole cover with India. KIC-INDIA refers to an ironworks in India called KIC Metaliks Ltd (www.kicmetaliks.com), whose office is in Calcutta (Kolkata) in West Bengal. The company website revealed:

“K I C Metaliks Limited, founded in 1986 and headed by entrepreneur Radhey Shyam Jalan, is a leading pig iron manufacturer in West Bengal headquartered in Kolkata. Publicly listed on the BSE, the company has over 35 years of experience catering to hundreds of satisfied customers using cutting-edge technology. Its factory in Durgapur produces pig iron with a current capacity of 2,35,000 MTPA. The company takes a prudent yet ambitious approach to capacity expansion to become a dependable pig iron supplier.”

The company was formerly known as ‘Kajaria Iron Casting Limited’, and its plant is at Durgapur, 100 miles northwest of Calcutta. While searching the Internet, I came across other examples of KIC manhole covers in the British Isles, including at Bangor (County Down), South Shields (Tyne and Wear), and Plymouth (Devon).

Often when I am out walking, I look down at manhole covers. Sometimes they have interesting designs on them. When I spotted the KIC manhole cover at Kenwood today (6th of November 2024), it was the first time I had seen one made in India set into a floor in England.

An almost hidden treasure on London’s Hampstead Heath

Posted on by
Reply

ANYONE TRAVELLING BY ROAD along North End Way between Hampstead’s Whitestone Pond and Golders Green will pass Inverforth House (on the west side of the road). Now used as a luxury apartment house, the place has an interesting history and an even more interesting garden, some of which is open to the public.

Here is what I wrote about this property in my book “Beneath a Wide Sky: Hampstead and its Environs” (available from Amazon):

“Inverforth Close, a small private road open to pedestrians, leads off North End Way. At the end of it, there is a delightful garden with a wooden pergola, The Hill Garden, which is open to the public. It was once part of the gardens of Inverforth House. The present house was built in 1895 in a ‘neo-Georgian’ style to the designs of the architectural practice of Grayson and Ould. Between 1896 and 1904, Ronald Fisher (1890-1962) lived there as a child. He was one of the ‘fathers’ of modern biological statistics.

Between 1904 and 1925, the house was owned by William Lever, Viscount Leverhulme (1851-1925). He was one of the first men to produce soap on an industrial scale (in 1884) and was an enlightened industrialist. He built Port Sunlight near to Birkenhead to house his workers in pleasant surroundings. The house’s library was designed by built by William and Segar Owen of Warrington, who also designed buildings at Port Sunlight. In 1955, Inverforth House became a convalescent home of the (now closed) Manor House Hospital, and that is how I remember it from my childhood. The hospital was not part of the NHS. It was privately run by trade unions. The edifice ceased being a hospital in 1999. Now, the house contains privately owned, luxury flats; it has become a ‘gated community’.

The gardens of Inverforth House were laid out from 1906 onwards by Thomas Hayton Mawson (1861-1933), garden designer, landscape architect, and town planner. According to one source (www.historic-uk.com), Lord Leverhulme wanted the pergola:

‘…to be the setting for extravagant Edwardian Garden parties, while at the same time being a place where his family and friends could spend long summer evenings enjoying the spectacular gardens.’

In 1960, the London County Council (‘LCC’) bought the Pergola and associated garden areas, which had by then become very dilapidated. In 1963, part of the gardens was opened to the public, and called the ‘Hill Garden’…”

Today, the 12th of June 2024, we re-visited the pergola. We had not been there for at least 10 years. Most of the long pergola (about 300 yards in length) was open to the public – more than in the past, it seemed to us. Although some of the timber trellising, which is supported by stone pillars, was looking rather weatherbeaten, walking along the raised paths was a delight because of the flowering bushes blooming all along it. From the pathway, one gets good views over Hampstead Heath and into the well-manicured private grounds of Inverforth House.

Many locals and people who used to be locals in Hampstead and Golders Green know about the Pergola and the Hill Garden next to it. However, when you reach it, you are sure to get the pleasurable feeling that you have discovered a secret garden, and unless you suffer from hay fever (and have not taken antihistamines), a wonderful experience awaits you.

Foolish on foot

Posted on by
Reply

Taxi!_240

 

Years ago, I had friends who lived south of Hampstead Heath in South End Green, near where the writer George Orwell lived during the 1930s. I often visited my friends there and usually stayed with them until long after public transport ceased working late at night – those were the days long before 24 hour bus services. In those days, I was a student with limited means. Taxi and minicab rides to my home in Hampstead Garden Suburb to the north of Hampstead Heath were costly and if used too often would eat too deeply into my meagre funds.

So, often I used to walk through the darkness to my home, a distance of well over 2 miles. Most of this walk was across the wooded stretches of Hampstead Heath. Even back in the 1970s, this vast expanse of urban woodland was far from safe. Murders and attacks were not unknown. My parents and others would have been horrified to learn that I was risking my life to save paying a cab fare. Was I scared? The answer was both yes and no. I was concerned because of the news stories I had read. Yet, on the other hand I was not so afraid.

I felt that anyone encountering me on my nocturnal wandering deep in the secluded heart of Hampstead Heath might have had one of two reactions. Either he or she might have imagined that I was up to no good and possibly on the prowl for victims and would therefore steer clear of me, or that the person  whom I encountered was up to no good. If he or she was ill-intentioned, the person would have still had to be a little bit cautious because I might have turned out to be more than a match for him or her. This reasoning would have done me no good had the person I met been severely evil. 

Fortunately, luck was on my side. I never encountered anyone, innocent or evil, on my nocturnal strolls. However, I would never even dream of making this kind of journey across Hampstead Heath again, and would not advise anyone else to attempt it because London has become more dangerous than it was in the 1970s and before.