In stark contrast, however, is the bottom of Denmark Hill and around the Green. On the bus back from Brixton last weekend* I noticed that the whole area’s getting scruffier; a few more of those open-fronted yam shops and a few more stalls selling cheap tat starting to spring up, plus the ugly metal grill on the front of the former Kennedy’s and the empty units scattered about. Really, it’s dying on its arse. It’s quite sad to see. Every month sees a decline in variety and (perhaps) quality; anyone who thinks high street chains are going to open here is likely to be disappointed. It’s becoming fragmented. I’m sure this is a subject that deserves more analysis, so please feel free.

But all is not lost! Away from the centre we still have lots of social diversity, and pretty soon we have Camberwell Arts Festival 2008. You should have received some lovely leaflets and guides through your door recently which explain all the events, but if not you can visit the Camberwell Arts website and decide for yourself what you’d like to attend. It all kicks off on the 14th June, which is next Saturday, and goes on until the following Sunday. I will most likely not be attending anything which could loosely be described as performance art, as it makes me grind my teeth.

On an admin note: first, I’ve just updated the software that powers the site, so if anything behaves weirdly please let me know. Second, I haven’t had the time to keep the site updated as frequently as I’d like, owing to work and some potentially interesting developments therein. If anyone would like to help me out for a little while (or even permanently) by writing here, you’d be very welcome. No salary is involved, but you will have the opportunity to take a load of personal abuse from tossers who think they know all about you, despite having never met you. Sound attractive?

* I went to the Ritzy to watch Indiana Jones; it was… um…

I had wondered if the Walworth Road was named after William Walworth, fishmonger turned Mayor, who ended the peasants’ revolt by stabbing Wat Tyler in the neck at Smithfield. Turns out the area pre-dates the man, and has a fascinating history all of its own.

The story of the Wilson roads is equally interesting.  Who else has stories of their area’s history to tell?

Elsewhere in Camberwell Renewal they have a photographic retrospective of the year gone by. The new toilet on Camberwell Green gets mentioned rather prominently, which shows how little real renewal has happened. I think I should start planning my year-end review soon.

Reader sg has suggested a meet-up soon, perhaps around the roaring flame-effect of the Hermit’s Cave; anyone else interested, or is the festive season occupying your time now?

What it reminded me is what a lovely place Camberwell can be; lots of Georgian & Edwardian terraced housing; long, straight leafy roads; little parks and squares dotted around it; plenty of sports facilities; nice pubs & bars.

What lets the whole area down is what most people see: Camberwell Green and its surroundings. Traffic-choked, dirty pavements, an abundance of off-licences and no shortage of clients for them. It doesn’t look nice, it doesn’t feel nice; it isn’t nice.

At the end of the voyage I dropped into the menders to pick up my clothes; two pairs of trousers, both of which had been fixed well, and at a very reasonable price. The name of the shop escapes me at the moment; it’s on the side of Cruson/Sophocles, further towards the Green. I’d like to know the story of the co-owner who, tragically, died on his 50th birthday, but I’m afraid to ask.

I noticed that work is still ongoing in the former Zara’s Kitchen; whatever’s going to open there, it involves a substantial refit. The former Rumeli has now definitively changed to Grills, etc. KFC is having a refit too; at first I thought they’d closed down, but no such luck. Still no sign of life in Angels & Gypsies.

Finally, a few nights ago I was in the Spar on Vestry Road, where a young man and his girlfriend were buying chocolate. Nothing seemed amiss, but the young man suddenly said “I want to shoot someone tonight, man; I feel like shooting someone up”. I wanted to slap his silly little baby-gangster face.

Let’s start with the news that our infamy grows ever stronger, with the report that we are a leading supplier of victims of the disgusting and barbaric practice of female genital mutilation. Of all the abuses carried out in the name of religion, this must be the most revolting; it makes me seethe that parents can make drastic decisions about their child’s health based on their own superstitions.

On to lighter subjects: there’s activity at the former Zara’s Kitchen (and, briefly, British Raj). At the moment the old signage which I remember from years ago is exposed, and I keep meaning to take a picture for the archives but always end up forgetting my camera or forgetting to take the picture. With the new building in Zara’s (I’m going to guess it’ll be a new food outlet; I could look it up, but where’s the fun in that?) and the promised Italian Cafe further down Camberwell Church Street, not to mention the opening of Angels & Gypsies in 2011, it looks like we’re about to get a few more culinary options.

Is there a nuclear bunker beneath Camberwell? I meant to mention this before, but it slipped my mind. I might start carrying a notebook. There’s a patch of land at the corner of Peckham Rd and Vestry Rd which has never been built on, and recently there’s been a placard up for a project called Words are not Enough, which says there’ll be a peace garden put there, and mentions the cold war nuclear bunker. I’ve got no reason to disbelieve them (except for their being artists, who are notorious liars), but the only mention I can find of this bunker is in connection with this project.

If there is a bunker, let’s open it up and go inside for 20 years, then come out to see what the place is like; I bet it’ll be exactly the same.

I was quite looking forward to seeing it inside, so we arranged to meet them in their room before going out for a drink afterwards. I have to say, it’s very impressive inside. Painted throughout in strong Mediterranean blues and reds, the Spanish theme is continued with lots of religious iconography. There are candles and icons and similar decorative touches throughout the hotel.

Their twin room was small but very pretty; they were enchanted by the complimentary chocolates and hot sauce (caution: we ate some last night and it’s extremely hot) and soaps, shower gels, etc. The bathroom was shared but so nicely decorated that they took a series of photos of it. Cousin and friend said it was the best hotel they’d stayed in on their two-week trip around Europe.

It wasn’t cheap — £89.99 for a twin room with shared bathroom — but they loved the decor, the ambience, and the breakfast and services, and declared themselves more than satisified with the whole experience. I have to admit, I fancy a stay there myself now. Can’t wait for the bar and restaurant to open.

We went for a drink at the Dark Horse, which was reasonably busy. I had Addlestone’s while we persuaded our guests to try different beers. We wanted to eat some bar food while we drank, but the kitchen had closed while we vacillated so we had to make do with some wasabi peanuts and a charcuterie (which in my day used to be called a cold meat platter).

The wife and guests then went for a drink in The Castle while I went to Waterloo to meet my mum from the train; we waited an hour and 20 minutes for a taxi while making polite small talk with some drunken Finnish businessmen.

Camberwell gets a fairer hearing in the FT’s review of the Church Street Hotel, helped by the fact that the author seems to have friends in the area who can give him some background. It would be foolish to pretend we don’t have crime and drug problems here, but that’s not all we have; if it were just guns and drugs and unrelenting misery, I very much doubt that most of you dear readers would be living here. I certainly wouldn’t.

Having said that… there’s been another incident down on Camberwell Road. As I passed this morning I saw the Nag’s Head and the neighbouring Costcutter sealed off with police tape, and plenty of coppers around it. Seemed to be centred around the Nag’s Head. That little area down there’s had its troubles recently.

I wasn’t expecting to see gardens American, English and Japanese, a lake full of duck and goose families, an arboretum of great variety, and lots and lots of flowers… this huge, lovely resource right on our doorstep. A very well-kept secret.

Picked up a copy of the Camberwell Quarterly earlier that day; it contains an interesting biographical piece on Henry Maudsley, founder of the eponymous hospital.

Also in the magazine is the news that the owners of Butterfly Walk applied for permission to extend the centre with an extra storey and more space out back, for restaurants and a six-screen cinema. The application has been refused, but it remains to be seen whether or not they will try again.

The school on the corner of Southampton Way and Peckham Road (the name of which escapes me) has been closed down, to be replaced by flats. Everywhere we look permission has been given for new housing, yet we have few amenities, fewer schools and no improvement in transport. The new residents will have to send their children to distant schools, on overcrowded buses on congested streets. What is to become of Camberwell?

Silly me, the school is being refurbed, not closed down. Ignore my final paragraph lamentation.

Back to find that little has changed, then. As my taxi swept down the New Road I noticed the banners hung outside the now-defunct Old Dispensary; once a vibrant, regal purple with gold detail, they are now weather-beaten and dull, almost-brown and raggedly fluttering.

Next came the building which stands at the very epicentre of our area, at the junction of the four principal roads and at the corner of the Green for which we are most known: the public toilet. Shit-smeared and derelict, it no longer works even for its secondary purpose, a shooting gallery for heroin. So disgusting that even the addicts don’t want it.

Further along to the Church Street Hotel, for which many hold high hopes; still not open, three months past target. One small spark of hope still exists to be kindled, however, as there was a man there painting the front door.

Further still and across the road, the repainted Cube, changed from its original burnt ember to a kind of septic green, with bruise-green detail and door and window frames still in burnt ember. Is that finished? One would hope not, yet certainty eludes us.

Everywhere we look are visual metaphors.

The Urban75 website is an excellent source of information, reviews, discussion and much much else for all things Brixton (and surrounding area).

Occasionally Urban 75 features reports from Camberwell such as the excellent feature on the lost pubs of the area which documents several of the ‘characterful’ and rather intimidating pubs of Coldharbour Lane that I remember cycling by when I first lived in Brixton in 1998.

Recently it featured Ruskin Park and I was intrigued by another report that they carried on the ‘Camberwell Submarine’ which is an architectural feature I have passed on several occasions and wondered what it was. It is interesting that they consider Akerman Road, SW9 to be in Camberwell.

Another site I have recently discovered is the Lambeth Landmark which features old photos from Lambeth’s archives — by selecting Brixton North or Loughborough Junction from the places menu you can access several from the SE5 Camberwell area.

Today’s Evening Standard ‘Homes & Property’ supplement has an article on Camberwell — or a CAMBERWELL SPECIAL, as the posters outside Denmark Hill put it.

The emphasis seems to be on people who want to invest in the area, rather than live in it; consistently referred to as ‘edgy’, the focus is on the relatively cheap prices of Georgian housing stock in the area; I say relatively, because the properties listed go for between £435,000 and £899,950.

The artistic side is played up, with mentions of the South London and GX Galleries, and the middle-class aspect is brought firmly to the fore. There are passing mentions of street crime and population diversity, but this is aimed solely for Standard readers — and you can’t really blame them for knowing their market.

No references to being under-invested and overlooked by the Council, unfortunately; and I’d take issue with Burgess Park being described as ‘leafy’. Otherwise, about what I’d have expected.