This is my street. Even without the long infrared exposure it's a bit of a surreal area in itself, tucked away between Housing Estates and within two minutes walk of an Underground Station that no one has ever heard of.
Christie, West London's best known serial killer, lived just around the corner and frequented what was my local pub. I was barred once, for two days, for impuning the honour of the landlord's wife. Sadly, it was turned into a hideous theme bar in the Eighties, with decor so garish that no one dared enter. It was closed within weeks and then demolished. I think there might be a community centre there now. I've never thought of change as being a particularly good thing. In this case I am right.
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