Goblins, eels...and slow haste

Festina lente. Always wanted to do that; kick off something with a soupcon of smarts. Won't last long...as any Francophile will quickly confirm.

But being reminded that 'haste is slow' (latin: festina lente) helps justify an overlong interregnum as I've been appallingly slow in pondering thoughts inspired by the wise words of GMN subjects.

A rare, largely unspoilt, corner of London reminded me of the value of slow the other day following a brief foray south, and a convivial chat with a fellow London escapee. Tucked away, the 'haste is slow' advisory is hidden in The Blackfriar pub adjacent to its eponymous station.

John Betjeman loved this place; no 'friendly bombs' for him aimed at this delightful triangular edifice: Betjeman's campaigning efforts helped stave off developers determined to turn even more of our capital into glass, steel and concrete monoliths. Our architecturally alive present sovereign no doubt gives thanks that Betjeman helped stop what one of his predecessors (Henry VIII) started when he gave a 16th Century rev-up to the monasteries.

My advice? Spend a moment or two soaking it all up; you'll find mosaics featuring goblin ends, monks preparing fish and eels...and the odd jaw-sagging visitor clutching a tatty guidebook. Never going to be a Top Ten hit with the tourist trade - but for those who know that the Number 9 bus takes them through all that they really need to see in a London morning, this is a worthy place to pause. But then a return to grim reality.

Part of it was a brief sojourn on a train at the only station spanning both banks of the Thames. Southbound, glance left for St Paul's and a chessboard of odd-shaped knights and bishops amid the pawns, while St Stephen's Tower draws in the hordes to the right above Parliament Square.

The capital day ended at Euston. Could have been Wimbledon. Hundreds of heads 'left-right' 'left-right' waiting, waiting, for the start signal to rush to their anointed platform. My target? Oxenholme. The train was to leave at 1530 and by 1525 no platform was signed. Ten minutes passed; then 12...then the stampede. Gentleladies start your engines. Although on this occasion the advertised running order of carriages had been reversed. So, for many, a run up...and down...the platform broke out. On the hottest day of the year the first (of perhaps 60?) overloud announcements confirmed that two carriages had no air conditioning. And that the train was late. And that someone would 'sort it....' It got worse, but enough.

All of that reminded me of a dinner I attended where I sat next to a minister called Jo Johnson in charge of transport (and London!) a few years ago. Trying to be polite and to stimulate conversation, I asked what it felt like to be in charge of the UK's first publicly funded £100 billion infrastructure project. He almost dropped his soupcon. "What! What do you mean?" asked the minister, whose brother Alex was braying nearby. "Well, Euston, and all that won't flow out of it. As in HS2". He corrected me: "No, no. That is wrong. The estimate is less than half that." I nodded...and smiled, corrected. He left the job a few weeks later; no one could say whether he had checked his sums; but the memory of that came back as we sat somewhere near Birmingham "held up by a slow train." Why didn't I just double my earlier number in the first place and go for the UK's first £200 billion infrastructure project bill? In 15 years someone will redo those sums and reach the same conclusion - just as the sovereign cuts the ribbon.

What does it all mean? Well, apart from the unfortunate incident with monks and monasteries, The Blackfriar celebrates its 150th birthday this year....and, thanks to farsighted poets and no doubt black-spider writing princes, it staved off the worst the sixties could throw at it. But even better than that, this place celebrates its 150th next year. Farsighted poets, pilgrims, passengers plus a few paupers, princes and smart people who've made a Great Move North will all be able to confirm how true it is that haste is slow.