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Welcome to the “Georgia Wasp…”
This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite. That was an old-time newspaper – more like a personal newsletter – written and published by Harry Golden. Back in the 1950s, people called Harry a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.” (For his work on the Israelite.)
That’s now my goal as well. To be a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.”
For more on the blog-name connection, see the notes below.
In the meantime:
October 8, 2025 – The last post ended on August 8 and added, “tomorrow, Saturday August 9,” I’d meet up with my brother and settle into the apartment he rented across the intersection where Wandsworth Road crosses Queenstown. (And “magically becomes Lavender Hill,” as I wrote after visiting Victoria Battersea pub Friday night, minutes up Queenstown Road.)
I also said it was now a mere three days from the “arduous 134-mile hike from Winchester to Canterbury, carrying all my worldly goods in a 16-pound pack weighing heavily on my back.”
To review further, my companion(s) and I went to the UK to hike that 134-mile Canterbury Trail. And so far I’ve covered my last day in London, then my first day in London, August 6, and most recently the touristy stuff I did in London on August 7 and 8. Those were busy days, and compared to them, August 9th was pretty calm, although it did take a while to meet up with Tom.
I knew his flight arrived at 8:08, so after giving him enough time to get through security and take the Piccadilly Line to Wandsworth, I waited at the Caffe Nero around the corner. (Two doors down from the apartment.) Some time around 10:00 I got a WhatsApp message, “The people at the hotel never heard of you.” It turned out he’d gone to the Chelsea Guest House where I’d stayed the first two nights in London. (I’d booked Chelsea for two nights instead of three, but the switch to the Premier Inn, catty-corner from the apartment, worked out better.)
After exchanging WhatsApps I headed east on Wandsworth. We met up about midway, then hiked back to Lavender Hill and luckily were able to get in the apartment early. That was pretty much it for Friday excitement, except it turned out Carol would try to join us later, somewhere on the hike. (She had some back-home issues to attend to.) Plus Tom was a bit jet-lagged.
Saturday the 10th was busier. We hiked to Wandsworth Road Overground, and took it to the National Maritime Museum and Greenwich Observatory. My verdicts: “The museum was great, and free, but it cost 24 GBP for the observatory.” Then added, on the Observatory: “Not recommended. You get a great view of London from the top of the hill for free. Plus the Greenwich Tavern cost 30 GBP for a draft beer and falafel burger, but that was the cheapest.”
In other words I could have my great view of London in the distance – like at the top of the page – for nothing. In further words I didn’t get to go back to the Gipsy Moth pub in Greenwich that I’d visited last May. And thirdly, an alert to prospective visitors: Prices for pretty much anything in the UK – especially London – are pretty steep. (Still, I enjoyed the two trips.)
One other note about the Maritime Museum. It included a Polar Worlds gallery that I found fascinating. I took a picture of an the Arctic Exploration list of supplies. I noted what it said at the far lower left. “No beer! So I can scratch Arctic Exploration off my Bucket list.”
After those Saturday afternoon adventures we got on the bus, we thought heading back to Wandsworth. But in time I noted that it seemed to be heading east instead of west. We ended up in Blackheath, an “area in Southeast London, straddling the border of the Royal Borough of Greenwich and the London Borough of Lewisham.” (Though it once took its name “either from the color of the soil, or from the bleakness of its situation,” it is now “pleasantly situated on elevated ground, commanding diversified and extensive views of the surrounding country, which is richly cultivated, and abounds with fine scenery.”)
In other words we had a nice visit in Blackheath, before getting the right bus-and-train back.
We decided to go all the way to Clapham Junction instead of getting off at the Wandsworth Overground. We wanted to see how long it took to hike from there to 7a Lavender Hill, so we’d have enough time to make the return trip. Next up? On Monday August 11 we took the train from Clapham Junction down to Winchester station, and there found something reminiscent of Woodstock 1969. The dregs of a young-folk music festival, but that’s a story for next time…
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The upper image is courtesy of View London Greenwich Observatory – Image Results. It came with a post, Best View from Greenwich Observatory, London (Julie Millan), with background information and a number of other “best view” pictures. “From the top of the hill in Greenwich Park just outside the Royal Greenwich Observatory, you will find a fantastic viewpoint of the London skyline. From here you’ll be able to see notable landmarks such as the Shard, the Tower of London, and the O2 Arena.”
Lavender Hill, London is a “vibrant Victorian street that uniquely blends historical charm and modern urban living. Positioned just south of Battersea and close to Clapham Junction station, Lavender Hill has something for everyone.” (From A Complete Guide to History, etc.)
The lower image is courtesy of Woodstock 1969 Aftermath Images – Image Results. And from a post, Here’s Just How Miserable Woodstock Really Was – BuzzFeed News.
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Re: The Israelite. Harry Golden grew up in the Jewish ghetto of New York City, but eventually moved to Charlotte, North Carolina. Thus the “Carolina Israelite.” I on the other hand am a “classic 74-year-old “WASP” – White Anglo-Saxon Protestant – and live in north Georgia. Thus the “Georgia Wasp.”
Anyway, in North Carolina Harry wrote and published the “israelite” from the 1940s through the 1960s. He was a “cigar-smoking, bourbon-loving raconteur.” (He told good stories.) That also means if he was around today, the “Israelite would be done as a blog.” But what made Harry special was his positive outlook on life. As he got older but didn’t turn sour, like many do today. He still got a kick out of life. For more on the blog-name connection, see “Wasp” and/or The blog.
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