THE UNLOST RIVERS OF LONDON Cannon Brook Northwood → Ruislip Common → Ruislip (2½ miles) upstream, climbing from Ruislip's HS2 edgelands to Northwood's Iron Bridge. River Pinn just north of Ruislip Golf Course, which is currently sealed off having been conscripted for use as a massive worksite for the tunnelling of the West Ruislip portal. Several local footpaths are either severed or on diversion, but the confluence is just far enough away not to be disturbed, and just about visible if you crouch through some trees in the corner of a meadow off Glenhurst Avenue. The nearby footbridge follows the alignment of Clacks Lane, an ancient trackway that HS2 has kindly left open, and which continues across a scrubby field to a shady track approaching the outer edge of Ruislip. The immediate area is a patchwork of small meadows, the next accessed over a stile beside the entrance to Old Clack Farmhouse, an isolated six-bed timber-framed Tudor bolthole. It's all very pleasant. Hillingdon Trail crosses the former, this fine long distance footpath choosing to shadow the Cannon Brook during its fourth waymarked section. The stream is languid here, maybe two metres wide and heavily overhung with foliage. It also has a nearby artificial neighbour, the Ruislip Canal Feeder, which the Trail nudges across to follow next. This was dug in the early 19th century to supply water to the Grand Union Canal at Hayes seven miles away, a distance which proved the project's downfall because the gradient was pitiful and the supply thus unreliable. The channel's dry today, but you can still see a couple of very low bridges along the back path between two local schools. former allotments, the closest resident to the Cannon Brook being a proud soul with a Union Jack hoisted in the garden and a huge Middlesex flag flapping across the front porch. An Environment Agency sluice sends the Cannon Brook briefly into a culvert, this where it joins up with the delightfully named Mad Bess Brook, so called because it drains the delightfully named Mad Bess Wood. Meanwhile our stream has become the focal point of townhouse development along Wallington Close, the luckiest houses facing a preserved stripe of green and blue crossed by a single brick bridge. I have never seen so many signs on back gates saying "My Dog Bites And I Hope It Does", or words to that effect. 21st September 2023. Slip down the side of Minnie's Hair & Beauty and a broad green corridor separates houses from risk - a delightful local resource and a proper playground for any adventurous youth permitted to leave the house. At one point a ridge of brambly earth dips down to a damp ditch spanned helpfully by planks and thick branches, should you be nimble enough to nip across. The final stretch before the river emerges from a concrete pipe is particularly incongruous because you can step down and walk along a perfectly flat gravel bed devoid of any water, as if a significant flow has simply ceased flowing. Cannon Bridge, the point where the main road from Ruislip to Rickmansworth stops being Bury Street and becomes Duck's Hill Road. This river crossing was first recorded as Canons Bridge in the 14th century, it's thought because the land hereabouts was owned by a widow called Lucy Canon, and only in much more recent times did the bridge give its name to the brook passing through. See the 2004 Journal of the Ruislip, Northcote and Eastcote Local History Society for fuller details than you could possibly need. Cannon Bridge Farmhouse is timber-framed and potentially 16th century, and to continue to follow the river we need the footpath up the side. This leads into Park Wood, a fabulous expanse of thick broad-leaved woodland, although we're only threading through one brief oaky corner before emerging on the flank of a long sloping dam... and oh of course! Ruislip Lido, Hillingdon's finest recreational resource, which was created by damming a river and that river was the Cannon Brook. In 1811 the Grand Junction Canal Company bought 60 acres of woodland, also a row of cottages, and flooded them to create a reservoir to feed the aforementioned canal. It ultimately failed, as also aforementioned, and in 1933 an entrepreneur repurposed the reservoir as a lido instead. The opportunity for outdoor swimming was augmented by rowing boats, sailing and water-skiing, also a miniature railway round the perimeter and more recently an artificial beach you're not allowed to paddle off. I can confirm that the Lido remains impressively busy in the school summer holidays as parents pile in with gleeful children, some patiently lugging trolleyloads of picnicgear, none of whom realise they're crossing a dam on a very minor river. Haste Hill station. In 1990 volunteers at the Ruislip Lido Railway added a proper culvert beneath the tracks, suitably dated, whereas those on foot can only cross via a single level crossing (listening out for steamy whistles as appropriate). Several tiny tributaries merge here, one branch descending from the heights of Copse Wood and the remainder draining the adjacent golf courses. To follow the longest take footpath R38 between the derelict pump house and a patch of fenced-off wetland to emerge beside the 16th fairway. Alas this thin water feature soon disappears into private golf territory, a shallow ditch between pristine lawns crossed by a dozen tiny footbridges to permit the passage of players and trolleys. mesh screen to protect ramblers from flying balls. Haste Hill's clubhouse is at the top of the slope, complete with inbuilt Bombay Chow brasserie where players can enjoy authentic Indo-Chinese cuisine or perhaps, if they arrive early enough, a Full English breakfast. The Cannon Brook is already flowing freely beneath its uppermost footbridge, lusciously fern-fringed, and puts in a first appearance behind the electrical substation on Lees Avenue. Contours suggest it once sprang from higher ground near Hillside Primary School but modern maps launch it from the Metropolitan line viaduct at the foot of Northwood High Street instead. You'll only ever walk the Ruislip Lido stretch, I know, but isn't it good to know where the river that feeds it goes on the remainder of its journey?

You will probably be aware that Catalonia has well more than its fair share of influential restaurants, a tradition that runs from El Bulli through Can Roca and Disfrutar and has fanned out in all kinds of interesting ways across all levels of the culinary scene, from the most high-falutin' multi- Michelin-starred temple of gastronomy to the small-town seafood grill. In fact, you're far more likely to see the words "Ex El Bulli" on a chef's bio in this part of the world than a mention of any culinary school, a result partly of the myth-like status that place in Roses holds over the collective mind of the area but also because Ferran Adrià used to get through junior staff like most kitchens get through blue roll. Albert Sastregener of Bo.tic is that rarest of rare Spanish head chefs - he's never worked at El Bulli (or even claimed to - which is even more unusual) or done time at Can Roca. He did, admittedly, have Joan Roca as a teacher for some of his time at the Escola d’Hostaleria in Girona but most of his culinary style was borne of working in resolutely Catalan kitchens in places like Mas Pau in Palau-sator, or La Cuina de Can Pipes in Palafrugell, restaurants open all year round that seamlessly switch to catering largely to discerning locals when the tourist seasons fade. It's restaurants like these that form the backbone of the Catalan food identity, serving dishes like braised pork cheek, botifarra (Catalan sausage) and aioli, grilled sardines, xiperones (fried baby squid) all alongside never-less-than-perfect-anywhere patates fregides. To this day I do not know why every single restaurant in the north east of Spain is a master of fried potatoes. They just are. Anyway, back in Corçà, a sleepy little town near Girona, while a dangerously dark sky was threatening to unleash all hell outside, our lunch was about to begin. First was a bit of tableside theatre - posh "Bloody Mary's", involving a tomato-vodka consommé, a peeled and frozen cherry tomato and a celery mousse squirted out of an espuma gun. The flavours from the tomato and celery were bold and clean, and I'm never not impressed by anything built tableside (which must be quite a stress for the server given the number of things that could go wrong) - I just would have liked a bit more of a burn from the alcohol. Mind you given that this was the first element out of a few dozen to come over a long lunch, perhaps they knew exactly what they were doing. As mentioned, Sastregener is a resolutely and proudly Catalan chef, and so it would make sense that even in this grandest of fine dining surroundings he would want to showcase everything that makes this part of the world such a joy to eat in, albeit in a format suitable to a €300+ a head tasting menu. So what followed for the next 15 or so dizzying minutes was a collection of dramatically presented morsels that attempted to tell the story of Catalan cuisine one bitesize burst of flavour at a time. So here we have a little mussel escabeche presented in a hard shell-shaped cracker (rather too close to eating actual mussel shell for my liking, but the flavours were great); "Peanut", a kind of freeze-dried and reconstituted peanut biscuit which had a fantastic texture and rich, satisfying savoury flavour; a cute square of L'Escala anchovy on a pillow-shaped cracker filled with tomato and topped with some kind of fish roe; a wonderful ball of potato and onion omelette which was soft and warm and comforting; and a piece of very lightly battered squid standing in for that staple of Spanish childhood, calamares a la Romana. We continued with another set of canapés laid out on the branches of a metal tree, because why not. Here is a grilled leek buñuelo (doughnut) topped with romesco sauce, a nod towards the traditional Catalan calçotada winter feast; a dainty cup of melon juice and "sea ham" (dried tuna belly) which I'm not sure is very Catalan (though could be wrong) but had that nice nostalgic 70s throwback vibe; octopus salpicón (salad) in a glossy, richly-seafoody mousse on a salty cracker; chunks of white prawns from Palamós in a clear seafood aspic which tasted sweet and garlicky; a completely brilliant foie gras and corn nut candyfloss creation which melted in the mouth releasing buttery, meaty flavours so utterly moreish I could have easily made myself sick on these if there was enough available to hand; and finally a shot of tomato, basil and parmesan, kind of a liquid salad which also worked incredibly well. Then a serving called "roasts" which involved bitesize versions of three more famous Catalan dishes - "Cannelloni", slow cooked beef mince draped in luxurious béchamel; "Suquet", basically a Catalan bouillabaisse containing chunks of fresh fish and seafood in a salty, thick, deeply satisfying broth; and "Senyoret" rice, a bitesize paella full of yet more beguiling seafood flavours. Incredibly there was still one more round of snacks to go before the main menu began, and they conspired to be some of my favourite of all. Pigeon, slow cooked in a red wine sauce and served inside a folded crepe was the only taste of wild game that day, and didn't disappoint - the flavour was intense, and the glossy texture coated the mouth satisfyingly; wagyu beef buñuelos had more intensely rich flavours in the sauce, the result I'm sure of many hours' work reducing and improving; and best of all a mushroom and truffle xuixo, which we were instructed to bite into from one side to stop the thing splitting and ejecting the contents all over the table and ourselves. The xuixo in particular was an incredible thing - delicate enough to break apart with the softest bite and releasing a heady mix of sweet pastry and truffle-spiked dairy, it was a genuine highlight amongst highlights. So far, then, so good. But perhaps I should insert a little bit of reality into proceedings by talking about the way Bo.tic handle their bread course. Because for reasons best known to them, at Bo.tic, bread is charged extra. I'll repeat that in case you think maybe you've misunderstood - at this two Michelin-starred restaurant, despite punters paying on average €300+ for their lunch and sometimes quite a bit more, they've decided that bread is such a wilful extravagance that it requires a supplement. Now if I was generous I could give them the benefit of the doubt and suggest that perhaps in the recent past the kitchens wanted to spread their bready wings a bit and offer two or three options, and too many people were just going for all at once and filling up too much too early in the meal. Maybe this happened. But honestly, guys, it's just bread - let people order too much if they want, and suck it up. Charging extra for something that in most restaurants is just part of the furniture just looks like profiteering. Anyway, after a nibble on a bit of sourdough with Brittany butter (perfectly nice, €11.40) we were finally at the first of the starters. White crab, encased in a lovely translucently light tube of pasta, was dotted with various vegetable emulsions (green bean, carrot) and cute little nubbins of pickled chilli. Vaguely unadventurous set of flavours perhaps but nonetheless very enjoyable, and gorgeous to look at. White shrimp from Palamós formed the centrepiece of the next dish, perhaps slightly cured but perhaps completely raw, it was hard to tell but didn't matter - being some of the finest seafood in the world you really do not need to muck about with these things. They were topped with little blobs of mousse made (presumably) from the heads and shells, and surrounded by a smooth, glossy herb emulsion. I'm such a fan of Palamós prawns that I ended up eating them on a number of occasions throughout this trip, and I never got bored of them. These were great. Although the bewildering number of snacks at the start of the meal was designed as a Catalan Cuisine 101 course in local food appreciation, there was still room for more nostalgia in the main courses. This "gyoza" bared more than a passing resemblance to little squid empanada things they used to serve at a little local favourite spot in L'Escala in the late 80s, with that same heady mix of seafood, tomato and olives in the filling. Admittedly in Hostel La Vinya in 1989 they didn't serve spiralised squid meat masquerading as tagliolini or serve it with a jet-black sauce made from squid ink, but the basic premise was the same. "Turbot and prawn" had lots of really nice things going on. Continuing the running theme of tomato-seafood bisque this dish had some nice bouncy prawn and a meaty chunk of turbot in another rich, salty sauce. Also in the sauce were clever little 'gnocchi' made out of more Palamós prawn and the whole thing was topped with clouds of foam made from turbot and fennel. On the side was a little rice cracker containing yet more raw prawns and bisque which made a very satisfying little mouthful. The final savoury course was lamb - squares of grilled terrine that dissolved very pleasantly into crispy/chewy layers in the mouth, dressed in a garlic-rosemary-butter sauce and surrounded by a ring of what I think was some kind of thick potato purée. The lamb and the sauce were lovely and had they stopped there I think I would have had a better time, because the potato was very strange - a big, cold, congealed ring of bland potato which lifted up rather disconcertingly off the plate as one piece, like a big grey flappy bangle. But I liked the little pillows of pommes soufflées (not easy things to make) and a bitesize lamb and cheese bread thing served on its own glass plinth was very enjoyable, so overall it wasn't a disaster, just a rare misstep. A palate cleanser came in the form of citrus sorbet, lime pound cake and jelly, topped with yoghurt and ginger emulsion and little shots of frozen basil and ginger. I loved everything about this - partly because by this stage in what had been quite an intensely savoury meal I was absolutely ready for a bit of summer fruit. But it was also quite brilliant, a collection of textures and flavours that worked absolutely perfectly together to become better than the sum of their parts, and I wish it could have lasted forever. And if anything the next dessert was even better - a shockingly powerfully flavoured cherry sorbet with chunks of peach, pears and orange variously as coulis, jelly and emulsion and topped with frozen 'tears' of raspberry. Look if you have access to some of the best fruit on the planet why not just use everything all at once - especially when the result is as good as this. Like the dish before I polished it all off in record time and wished I could have had more. A lot more. The final sweet was perhaps more technically impressive than overtly enjoyable - a water-based dark chocolate mousse next to a branded coffee and chocolate biscuit. Perfectly nice but not particularly memorable, at least not compared to the fireworks that had come before. And of course Bo.tic couldn't let it finish there, so petits fours came in the form of these pretty little things, our favourites being the raspberry meringue bites at the top of the "tree" and the rich, creamy (and very delicate, you really had to rush them into your mouth before they fell apart in your fingers) Crema Catalana 'eggs' just beneath. Like much of what had come before they were technically brilliant, showstopping to look at and very easy to enjoy. And we did enjoy Bo.tic - it's really hard not to be charmed by a place like this, where in a bright, beautifully designed dining room, enthusiastic and experienced staff serve intelligent and attractive dishes made from the best ingredients the region can offer. Even a scary moment when all the mobile phones in the room simultaneously squealed out a flash flood warning didn't seem to break their stride - front of house acted like it happened all the time, which perhaps it does - and although we didn't feel brave enough to take up their offer of interrupting kitchen staff with queries about our food whenever the fancy took us ("honestly they won't mind!") it was nice that the offer was there. The atmosphere of the place was easy, and pleasant, and very much designed to give everyone the best possible time. It's just that for this amount of money - especially in Spain where food and drink is noticeably cheaper than most of the rest of Europe - I just think we needed a bit, well, more. I don't mean physically more food - there was plenty of that - but a bit more innovation, a bit more spark and fire, a few more surprises. I don't think it's too unfair to compare this meal to a similarly-priced lunch at Can Roca a few years back where a couple of the dishes - the white asparagus Vienetta and the prawn dish - made such an impression on me at the time I can still taste them if I close my eyes and think back. Plenty of the dishes at Bo.tic were very good, and one or two were excellent, but none were at that level. And Can Roca didn't charge extra for bread. Still, it was more than worth the journey to this little Baix Empordà town and if nothing else our meal - particularly the first few courses of it - was a reminder that Catalan food can shine no matter what the format. Yes you can go and spend €300+ on dainty little reconstructions of classic dishes served in spectacular surroundings, and you can enjoy that very much. Or alternatively you could stop at the nearest roadside joint hung with woodsmoke and get a plate of galta de porc amb patates fregides flung at you by a bloke in a string vest, pay €7 for it and go home just as happy. Both approaches are valid, and both only exist because the surrounding ecosystem of food-savvy and discerning customers, either local or visiting, is there to support them. So really, I suppose the point I'm trying to make is that we should be happy for all kinds of restaurants, at all budgets and for all occasions. Where would we be without them? 7/10

What's new this week in the world of London transport? Cutting the DLR timetable walk-through train arrived for testing in January 2023 and should have entered public service in April 2024, yet somehow still hasn't. The latest official estimate for the first new train in public service is "before the end of 2025". That is one hell of a signalling issue. reduced DLR timetable was introduced this week. 8 different routes were operated on weekdays, the most frequent being Bank-Lewisham at approximately 5 minute intervals throughout the day. Of the eight routes five ran all the time, two only at peak times and one only off-peak. The plan has been to remove all three of the intermittent routes, leaving a core service on the remaining five. Frequencies will remain unchanged, except on the Stratford - Canary Wharf branch where intervals will widen. • Canary Wharf - Lewisham is losing its trains from Stratford so frequencies will be reduced in the peak. Expect two trains in every 9 minute period whereas previously it was three. Off-peak frequencies are unaffected. • Canary Wharf - Stratford is reducing in frequency throughout the day. In the peaks the reduction is from every 4.5 minutes to every 5, and off-peak it's from every 5 minutes to every 6.5. • Canning Town - Stratford International is losing half its off-peak trains, i.e. services will only operate every 10 minutes not every 5. Peak services are unaffected. • Canning Town - Beckton is the most downgraded. Only trains to Tower Gateway will now operate, i.e. half the number of trains as before, both peak and off-peak. You could now be waiting up to 10 minutes on this branch, whereas previously it was up to 5. TfL still hope that all 54 new DLR trains will be introduced "by the end of 2026", and they don't need all 54 to be able to return to a full timetable. But expect this annoyance to continue well into next year, and if you live on the Beckton branch my condolences. Bleeding old people fairly quietly, TfL increased the prices for concessionary Oyster photocards. These allow free travel for certain groups but they have to pay an administrative charge when applying for one and that's what's being hiked. » 5-10 Zip card application (£10 → £11) » 11-15 Zip card application (£15 → £16) » 16+ Zip and 18+ Student application (£20 → £21) » Apprentice and Care Leavers application (£20 → £21) » Replacement for all of the above (£10 → £11) 60+ Oyster card, or wants to keep it, is being pumped for more. » 60+ application fee (£20 → £35) » 60+ annual address check (£10 → £18) » 60+ replacement card (£10 → £18) To put this in perspective, a 60+ card allows jammy pre-pensioners the opportunity to swan around London for nothing, so they're not really being hard done-by. An extra £15 is nothing compared to a freebie that could end up saving you thousands. says "Higher TfL photocard fees, especially for the over-60s, will be unwelcome news to Londoners who continue to feel the pinch of the ongoing cost of living crisis and some of the most expensive public transport fares in Europe," he's undoubtedly over-stating this. say "the large increase in the cost of the 60+ Oyster was because it has the biggest gap between the estimated revenue that we would receive were these journeys paid for and the income we receive through fees", that sounds like they'd be very keen to hike these fees again. Magnifying glass Last month the Dangleway introduced two glass-floored cabins as an opportunity to attract more custom. A round trip cost £25 on weekdays and £35 at weekends. However as of today the price has risen to £35 at all times, this because the school holidays have started, the last £25 flight having been at 8pm last night. Buying your ticket online and entering a special code at the checkout lowers the new price by 20%, but that's still £3 more than yesterday. Expect prices to readjust downwards in September but until then the shameless revenue-raising continues.

Imagine sitting on your toilet and getting a personalized health report sent straight to your phone. No clinic visit, no awkward conversations. Just data, insight, and… well, your poop. This isn’t science fiction anymore. Toilets in Japan have long been known for their innovation: heated seats, bidet functions, even calming sounds to mask noise. But […] Related posts: TOTO Launches Toilet Soccer Goalie TOTO’s Toilet Motorcycle Will Travel Japan Entirely on Biogas Narita Airport’s New Toilet Gallery is a Museum for Bathrooms

Railways are 200 years old this year, and one of the highlights of the anniversary celebrations is the Inspiration Train. pre-book but I chanced my luck at Waterloo station yesterday while the rest of the station was in total signalling meltdown, smiled sweetly and got lucky. No that's fine, we're not that busy at the moment. The Inspiration Train was tucked away on platform 19, the station's favoured hideaway for exclusive events. A proper steam train occupied the buffer end and was drawing an appreciative crowd - we'd get a chance to see that on the way out. The exhibition train is freight-hauled so remained unmobbed, although the exterior has been beautifully decorated by the graphic geniuses who design loco liveries so was also well worthy of admiration. Alas the access point for the exhibition was down a long section of platform fully open to an ongoing deluge, so I was duly whisked past most of the exterior art by a kind gentleman with a large brolly. You're welcome. This way please. Carriage 1: Railway Firsts Linlithgow station 1845), the first Real Time Passenger Information (Dina St Johnston 1974) and the first use of Hi Vis in Britain (Glasgow 1964). Some firsts are truly world-changing (Railway Time leading to Greenwich Mean Time in 1880) or rightly thought-provoking (the first fish and chip shop was enabled by rail connections in 1860), but others are quite frankly a bit contrived (the First Use of Railway Language, the First FA Cup Final At Wembley Stadium). A tad sparse in places but a good start. Carriage 2: Wonderlab in Motion Wonderlab gallery at the NRM in York, and perhaps its true purpose is as inspiration that you might like to take your offspring there instead (day tickets from £9.90). Carriage 3: Your Railway Future Carriage 4: The Partner Zone We hope you enjoyed your time on the Inspiration Train. Geoff's video if you'd like to see what you're missing, or could perhaps enjoy. Further along the platform the departing crowd were being wowed by 35028 Clan Line, a perfectly preserved Pullman operated by the Merchant Navy Locomotive Preservation Society and normally based in Battersea. There was even the opportunity to clamber up onto the footplate for a closer look at the gauges, injectors and cock levers, all beautifully buffed, three visitors at a time. I didn't wait, I've seen coal-shovelling at first hand before, and here they weren't even allowed to blow the whistle. But as a smiling 10-year old took his place beside the gleaming engine for a beaming selfie I overheard his parents talking to the staff. No we're not interested in trains at all but he is, and he's loved it. Inspired at a station near you soon.