The view from space 2006

Courtesy of Google Earth, a satellite photograph of the Island. From somewhere in space, you are being watched...

The Island 1850

In the mid-19th century, the Island was the site of the New Cross turnpike gate, where tolls were collected from traffic using the New Cross Road (on the route from London to Dover). This picture was painted around 1850, looking east along Queen's Road with the still-existing White Hart public house at the rear.

Midsummer Flora

The island's flora is mainly to be found in its 31 flower boxes. The unobservant may imagine that these just grow and change by themselves, but in fact they are regularly replaced with ready potted flowers. Earlier in the spring, daffodils were in bloom, to be replaced by pansies. Last week, after a few days empty, these new boxes appeared.

Escape to the Island

On the mainland, a few metres distant from the Island's north coast, there is a Barclays Bank. Yesterday the combination of the heat, the cashpoint queue and money stress led to a small commotion. Shoving, fists raised, woman shouting to man 'get your fucking hands off me. Maybe you hit your woman in your country...'. Others intervening to separate or aggravate. Pushed to the edge of the road and the pavement, there's only one place to go... escape to the Island.

Smile like you mean it

Visited the Island unexpectedly today. Paused and decided not to leave until I had smiled, made eye contact and engaged with five people. Response: 5 smiles and 2 scowls. Left the Island with a spring in my step.

[Report from Juleigh, 9 June 2006]

Black Dog, White Hart and the Boogie Man

Does the Island have its own tales of enchantment and mystery, of heroes and villains, of monsters glimpsed in the moonlight – in short, its own folklore?

Observed last Sautrday, a mother waits to cross to the Island with her child and black dog. 'Watch for the green man' she says. Next to her a young girl wanders off, ignoring her mother calling her back who shouts 'The boogeyman is up there'. Overlooking the whole scene, the old inn of the White Hart.

Welcome to the Island

Every day many visit and thousands pass close by, though few notice it. The Island is a place of brief encounters, of buried secrets, of moments glimpsed in rear-view mirrors. It is a place of waiting, but not for long, a brief pause on a journey.

The Island has no border controls, no prisons, no soldiers or priests, no buying and selling. Is it a utopia? Perhaps it could be, a sanctuary of non-interference amidst the surveillance cameras.

We want to share some of what happens on the Island, perhaps create situations to see what else could happen. But we do not claim it as our Island anymore than it is your’s. The Island welcomes everybody...

Where is the Island? It is here, surrounded by the flowing rivers of traffic at the junction of Queens Road and New Cross Road, SE14.