Andrew Kersley

2 weeks ago | the-londoner.co.uk | Andrew Kersley

It’s a sweltering Tuesday afternoon when we board the 36 from Queen’s Park to New Cross and settle on the top deck. It’s only a few minutes before a man gets on, sits in the front seat and initiates a loud, headphoneless video call before aimlessly scrolling Facebook videos with the sound on. Under a new proposal from the Liberal Democrats, this kind of behaviour would be an offence, punishable by a £1,000 fine.

2 weeks ago | the-londoner.co.uk | Andrew Kersley

Bruce Kenrick had run out of hope. It was 1963, and the upstart housing charity he ran out of his cramped, dilapidated flat in Notting Hill had no money, despite desperately trying to raise funds from friends, connections and even a stall on the Portobello Road — all to no avail. A radical priest who had spent time helping the poor in Kolkata and East Harlem before coming to London, Kenrick was charming, energetic and had an uncanny knack for pulling people into his quixotic plans.

3 weeks ago | the-londoner.co.uk | Andrew Kersley

June 1974. The shops were empty, the pubs closed, and the record store, usually blaring traditional Irish anthems, was silent. The hushed crowds amassed in their thousands, filling every inch of pavement on the Kilburn High Road. Some had come all the way down from Manchester, Liverpool and Glasgow — borrowing, without permission, minibuses from the schools where they worked and sleeping on the floors of local churches — just to catch a momentary glimpse of the body.

1 month ago | the-londoner.co.uk | Andrew Kersley

It can be hard to show what the downsides of excess tourism look like in the capital, beyond the odd grumble about the number of American accents on the tube. But if you had to choose one place in London to demonstrate the point, it would probably be Park West Apartments, perched on a quiet backstreet just north of Hyde Park, away from the massing crowds of Oxford Street.

1 month ago | the-londoner.co.uk | Andrew Kersley

Somebody once told me that every journalist has a white whale. That one story they just can’t get out of their head, that drills its way deep into their brain. Mine is big, green and has more layers than the onion: Shrek’s Adventure. I can’t give a rational explanation for my unending fascination with theogre-themed tourist attraction that has squatted on the Southbank, next to the London Aquarium, for the last decade. But it’sa surprisingly common fixation among Londoners who’ve encountered it.