A mayor who doesn’t care

It’s 4:30am, our cargo-bike has burned-out after 28k zero-emission miles delivering serious tonnage of small-farm produce to Soho chefs. It could take weeks to repair.

Ordinarily, we’d fall-back on Zipcar, but it’s quit the UK having provided the infrastructure for small businesses for 20yrs with vans/cars everywhere; £10 an hour (petrol included/no congestion-charge) the invisible architecture of local economies, just as busses/cabs are for residents, workers, tourists… punching holes in carbon-emissions too; 1 Zipcar knocked 6-7 private cars off the road. The fleet was migrating to electric, a huge benefit to everyone living or working in London. It was fantastic but it’s gone and no one talks about it.

You’ll remember our mayor introduced the 20mph speed limit in 2020, slowing traffic and increasing the cost of a Zipcar by a 1/3 – a 2-hour job became 3 plus the cost of penalty charges. He then slapped congestion-charge on electric vehicles – exit Zipcar. Another crushing blow for London’s small Indy-firms already compromised by work-from-home, residents priced out by AirBnB and landlords holding onto empty offices instead of providing work/live units to help solve the West End crisis.

What now? It’s 4:30am the cargo bike is “fried” and no Zipcar? Hmm, It’s 3 degrees outside. 15mins later my wife, little dog and I are all in our 2001 (ULEZ compliant) Micra and heading into Soho dodging foxes in the mist. After 6 years of cargo-biking it’s time to experience the horrors of a delivery driver – I knew it would be bad, but not that it would be so f**king-awful.

Chaos, streets shut-off in every direction – we spend more time driving away from destinations than towards them, having to leave Soho to come back in, taking time, creating emissions, costs and fury all set to get a whole lot worse thanks to the mayor who doesn’t care.

We cannot get from A-B without going C-Z. Soho is carved-up by developments and no one has resolved the issues – they’d rather have a puke-precinct than the hub of the creative universe. The Crown Estate, John James and developer’s friend, Stephen Fry all seem happy putting an end to the working West End. Their plans to close our major arteries in favour of biscuit tin vistas and Khan Plaza will deny access for non-corporate services and delivery vehicles, killing-off small independents reliant on ad-hoc deliveries from small suppliers of artisan products and farm produce at all times of day; shifting congestion and pollution to choke residential streets, banning bikes; removing red busses and black cabs from the London scene; increasing criminality; turning tiny Lower Gt Windmill St into a 2-way sphincter is reckless, choking roads and our one remaining primary school in mayoral emissions.

Small family-firms won’t survive the restrictions; the cultures of Soho, Mayfair, Marylebone, Fitzrovia and Bloomsbury will be lost. A massacre of character driven by the mayor who doesn’t care, tinpot-Trump John James and their cronies who spew false narratives while attacking Soho-champions with Soho in hearts, minds and under their feet. It’s uglier than sin.

Soho is built on the energy and innovation of driven people, freedom of movement is vital. What’s needed is 1000s more residents working from home (and work) right here, functional infrastructure and a resurgent Soho Society to inspire property owners and fend-off the tyranny we’re witnessing now.

100-turns and dozens of red lights later, my wife’s tearing her hair out and my foot’s down to beat the 7am congestion charge – little dog is loving it. What a cutie.

We don’t need an Oxford St concrete mile of rammed underground stations, no busses, no taxis, no bikes – even convicts on their last mile to the gallows at Marble Arch got horse cart.

No pedestrianisation, no handover of public realm for private terraces to further increase rents and rates, a ban on AirBnB beyond spare rooms, a void-tax on empty properties, 10k more homes, an opening-up of roads into and around Soho to ensure proper traffic flow reducing emissions, noise, time, costs, and of course, support for local-businesses with congestion-charge exemptions and substantial relief for firms that serve their communities.

Soho is at the crossroads – not Left or Right but Liveable or Not. May 7th. Challenge the candidates, stop mayor-madness or kiss goodbye to local businesses. And while you are at it, join the Soho Society. Show the mayor YOU care.

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A mayor who doesn’t care

· Unabridged original draft

It’s 4:30am, our cargo-bike has burned out having done 28,000 zero emission miles delivering serious tonnage of small farm milks, creams, eggs and butters to Soho chefs. The bike will take weeks to repair.

Ordinarily, we’d fall back on Zipcar, but Zipcar has gone. Quit the UK. For those who don’t know, (including members of the mayor’s Oxford Street pedestrianisation board) Zipcar provided the infrastructure for indy businesses for 20 years with vans and cars dotted around the capital’s kerbsides and available to rent for £10 an hour – petrol included up to 60 miles and no congestion charge.

Zipcar became the invisible architecture of local economies, just as busses and cabs are for residents, workers and tourists. Zipcar was not only convenient and affordable, it was punching holes in carbon emissions with one Zipcar knocking six or seven private cars off the road. The fleet was migrating to electric, a huge benefit to everyone who lives and works in London. It was fantastic, but it’s gone and surprisingly no one is talking about it.

You’ll remember our mayor introduced the 20mph speed limit in March 2020, slowing traffic by a third and so increasing the cost of using a Zipcar or van by a third – turning a two hour trip into a three hour trip while also adding the cost of penalty charges. Soho Dairy used Zipcar two or three times a week since the pandemic when all normal services collapsed or pulled out. And who wouldn’t when running a small business in Central London and being penalised with taxes by a mayor who doesn’t care?

Then, as if to prove it, Sadiq slapped the congestion charge on electric vehicles in January this year – exit Zipcar and yet another crushing blow for London’s small independent firms. You may not have heard the sobbing because there are few of us left to sob in the West End, costs being what they are and our customer base being seriously eroded by work-from-home becoming normalised, residents being priced out by AirBnB and landlords holding onto empty office stock instead of providing affordable work/live right here, right now when it’s needed, in a West End crisis.

So what now? It’s 4:30am, the cargo bike is “fried” and there’s no Zipcar? It’s only 2 or 3 degrees outside. Hmm. 15 minutes later my wife, our little dog and I are all in our 2001 (ULEZ compliant) Nissan Micra and heading into Soho dodging foxes in the mist.

After six years of cargo-biking it’s time to experience the true horrors that face delivery drivers every morning, every day, every week, month, year in year out. I knew it was going to be bad, but I really didn’t know it would be totally fucking awful.

The horror started early, there now  being only one road into Soho crossing Oxford Street from the north, Wells Street, but it’s dug-up, closed, impassable by car. So we cut back and forth north and west over to Regent Street, cross Oxford Circus, head south to Glasshouse Street, east to Wardour, up Wardour north to Noel, east to Berwick, south, then west on D’Arblay to reverse down Wardour Mews, avoiding Sean the homeless artist and all of his tiny tubes of paint, rags and cardboard canvasses, to our quietly tucked-away cold-store.

It’s 5:30am, we load the hatchback with milks and creams for two hotels and head out onto deserted streets, east on D’Arblay, north on Wardour to the lights, the lights that never change. A queue of seasoned delivery drivers gradually builds-up behind us, drivers who know the drill and inevitably start honking. Wife grabs hold of the dashboard as we are forced to cross Oxford Street on red, dodge pot holes up Berners and turn east on Goodge, more lights. Still in autopilot I “go” on the green bicycle light, with wife muttering under her breath and knuckles turning white, more lights, stop, continue, more potholes, more lights, south on Charlotte and turn back north up Rathbone Street for first drop. It’s taken 15 minutes, instead of 5 by cargo-bike, and already my wife isn’t speaking to me, but does look-up how we get from here to Dean Street for next drop, while I take produce from the boot and load into the hotel chiller as we have for some 10 years.

Little dog’s tail wags madly as I get back in the car, but my wife is grimacing at the map. We only need to go 500 metres south, but we can’t. So it’s north up Rathbone and south on Charlotte, east on Percy, north on Tottenham Court Road, east on Store Street, south on Gower, red lights, red lights, red lights (even though there’s no one else on the road) south-west on Shaftesbury, through Cambridge Circus, north on Dean and west on Richmond Mews, do the drop and earn two chocolate cookies (still warm and gooey). Now what?

We are just 100 metres west of our cold-store on Wardour Mews, but since the closure of the Dean Street junction with Oxford Street for the Elizabeth Line there is no way of getting there without using St Anne’s court; no bother on a cargo bike, but right now an Italian Job with the Micra on its side and no crash helmets – not an option, my wife would kill me if the lampposts didn’t.

So, despite 35 years getting to know Soho like the back of my hand and 10 years doing these deliveries it’s back to the Google map. North on Dean, east on Carlisle, around Soho Square and south on Frith (or Greek as inexplicably both go south), south-west on Shaftesbury again, then 3rd right, north up Wardour, reverse down D’Arblay to Wardour Mews (we’re running late) reverse down Wardour Mews and reload with milks and creams for Denman Street and Suffolk Street, a stone’s throw south of Soho.

Okay, east on D’Arblay, north on Wardour, west on Noel, south on Berwick, west on Broadwick, south on Lexington, west on Beak, south on Upper James, through Golden Square to Brewer, straight across to Sherwood Street, but we can’t; Soho roads are routinely closed for works in the early hours, this time it’s closed for a crane WTF. Wife; “WHAT NOW?”

NOW we’re up against the 7am congestion charge deadline and unlikely to make it. East down Brewer, damn – no right turn into Great Windmill, no right into Rupert either – back north on Wardour. Fuck. Up Wardour, west on Broadwick (little dog hates cobbles even at 20mph), south on Lexington, west on Beak, all the way down to Regent Street, south on Regent, red light, red light, red lights at Piccadilly Circus, north up Shaftesbury again, fuck, no left on Great Windmill from south. Shit. Time to go pro. Ignore everything and reverse up Denman, clock is ticking. Drop is done, south to Suffolk Street via lower Great Windmill and Haymarket, rolling gently through red lights again to complete apoplexy in the passenger seat (I’m still in bike mode, sorry). We stare down lower Great Windmill Street, completely blocked with refuse trucks, oil waste and beer wagons and wondering if the mayor knows how this tiny cut-through is ever going to be the major two-way artery taking all West End traffic post-Oxford Street pedestrianisation and Crown Estate plans for the erasure of London history and culture in favour of a biscuit tin vista? Utter madness – and what about Soho Parish Primary School just 100 metres up the road being choked in stinking mayoral emissions?

Lights change, down Haymarket, avoiding Leicester Square zombies and about to turn east on Suffolk Place as wife screams; “No left turn! What’s wrong with you?” Suddenly back on Haymarket to turn east on Pall Mall, NO! the fucking lights are on red (not having spotted the little green bicycle light) north onto Suffolk Street, do the drop. Then back onto Pall Mall, for the long climb north on Whitcomb (Colman Hedge 350 years ago), blind corner on Orange Street, red light into Wardour, (Chinatown is Soho) red light crossing Shaftesbury, continuing north up Wardour ignoring continually repeating red light for pedestrians (there aren’t any) and reverse down D’Arblay etc… you know the drill, to load for our market stall stock of milk, cream, eggs, cheeses, coffee beans, ginger-slices, jugs, cups, lids, cloths, non-dairy and two big tanks of water (yes, we have to bring our own water to work since Westminster City Council cut-off the street tap rather than fix it) the clock is ticking.

So, up the mews east on D’Arblay, north on Wardour, west on Noel, south on Berwick but too late to beat the bollards that have gone into the ground, so west on Broadwick, south on Hopkins, down onto Peter, east to Berwick, reverse through the bollards to our market stall and empty the boot with 10 minutes left to get up to Warren Street and beat the congestion charge. Wife is fraught, only little dog is still excited. What a cutie.

Even with Zipcar, it could take 45 minutes just to get from Berwick to Soho Square 300 metres away (£10) and now you know why. Soho has been smashed-up by so many developers and developments and no one has bothered to resolve the consequential issues – probably because they don’t want to, probably because someone wants to turn it from the centre of the creative universe into a piss-head puke precinct. Right now, Soho is chaos for anyone running a small company reliant on incoming or outgoing deliveries with streets closed, shut-off and blocked creating unnecessary congestion, emissions, costs and a fury that is all set to get a whole lot worse thanks to the arrogant, pretentious and conceited mayor who doesn’t care, John James, Crown Estate and their cultural ambassador Stephen Fry, who all seem content to erase Soho from their country seats and friend’s yachts with a battalion of vacuous hacks and lobbyists who really don’t give a toss about Soho, being happy to sweat the asset and rinse it.

Not for them roads, cabs, busses, bikes, not for them sustainable, safe and resilient local communities and economies peppered with small independent businesses. No, not for them; every one of their developments has wiped out swathes of small firms yet “Save Our Soho” is their phoney, self-serving war cry. “Our” referring to their mercenary ambition to turn the public realm into private terraces, increase rents and blame the rates for the issues they create. Vomitous.

The mayor and Crown Estate plans to close the West End’s major arteries might work for large corporates with fleets of vehicles and warehouses but will kill off the remains of small independents, denying access for thousands of small suppliers, artisan produce and farm deliveries that come in all hours of day subject to workload and road conditions; shifting congestion and increasing emissions to pollute residential streets; banning bikes and removing red busses and black cabs from the London scene; increasing criminality and danger (I’ve been mugged by 4 thugs in a pedestrianised Soho side street so I know how important the headlights of passing cars are) but, sadly, the mayor does not care.

Small family firms won’t survive his restrictions; the cultures of the five towns of Soho, Mayfair, Marylebone, Fitzrovia and Bloomsbury will be consigned to history, either choked-up or cut-off from the vital flow of transport in favour of the fantasy footfall of the so-called “visitor economy”.

We do not need a Khan Plaza let alone a stone dead mile of Oxford Street concrete, overwhelmed (closed) underground stations and shoppers doing the east-west mile march from St Giles to Marble Arch once known as Tyburn – the last mile for prisoners on their way to the gallows. Even they got a horse and cart. We need a mixed development of residential and retail, big and small businesses, depots for parcel sorting, waste collection and local energy generation, we need a future facing and thriving avenue of light that showcases London with a 24/7 life of its own – servicing local communities not killing them.

Communities define their small businesses by using them, small businesses define communities by servicing them, this massacre of character and culture, has been driven by our very own tinpot Trump John James and his cronies who spew false narratives, corporate fantasies and pure ego bollocks, lobbying the mayor while attacking genuine Soho movers and shakers with real Soho in their hearts, minds and under their feet. It’s uglier than sin. It’s a disgrace.

Soho was built on the energy and innovation of driven individuals; freedom of movement of people, goods and entrepreneurialism is vital. What it needs is thousands more residents (including workers), functional infrastructure and a resurgent Soho Society to inspire property owners and fend off the assault of the tyrants that we are witnessing now.

No pedestrianisation. No handover of public realm to private landlords to drive up rents and rates. A ban on AirBnB beyond spare rooms (like Barcelona, Berlin and New York), a void tax on empty properties, ten thousand homes, a complete reworking of routes into and around Soho (including the re-widening of Regent Street to ensure proper flow of vehicles), to reduce costs, time, noise and emissions, support for small independent amenity businesses with congestion charge exemptions, rent and rate reductions, and reliefs for local ventures that are the future of our local cultures and economies. Oh, and an end to Bounce-Back loan repayments for those for whom the Bounce-Back never came, yet continue to honour the contract despite the economic carnage of the post-Brexit post-Covid era.

For 350 years we have lived, worked and played right here in the living, breathing heart of London, building communities of industrious creatives and an economy bigger than Wales. Now we are at the crossroads – not Left or Right but Liveable or Not.

May 7th. Vote for community, culture and creativity over crass corporates and concrete. Challenge the candidates to stop the mayor or kiss goodbye to breakthrough ideas and creative businesses. And if you really mean business, join the Soho Society.

Show the mayor YOU care.

Robin Smith

Business owner, Soho

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