In praise of Canary Wharf

Way back in the mists of time just before the Millennium, when I was fresh to London’s streets trying to make my way in the world, I lived in Island Gardens at the base of the Docklands tonsil. We had a marvellous view of the sparkling river from our balcony, until the built in front of us. But my favourite view was from my bedroom window: the great tower of no.1 Canada Square looming up in the distance, dwarfing all around it & catching all different kinds of lights depending on the time of day. At this point it stood alone, looking quite unlike it does now, jostled by other ever more ambitious towers. There was little to do in what was still referred to as Docklands — unless you enjoyed visiting Asda — but there was always a ‘if you build it they will come’ call of this original tower of Mammon. And come they eventually would.

But back at the turn of the century the City was still the place to be if you worked in finance. Home of the trading floors, brokers, louche long lunches and navigating dodgy Spitalfields backstreets after dark. News our particular trading floor was to be moved to the Wharf in 2005 was most unwelcome: we were City people, god dammit! Our employer had to romance us with hospitality visits, and somehow we even managed to winkle generous relocation payments out of them for the mammoth distance between Broadgate and Canary Wharf.

This was the time before the Financial Crisis, you see. Our new offices were wonderfully appointed with every possible amenity, gorgeous Vitra chairs in lime greens and oranges and the then-mandatory breakout spaces. The fact that, wherever we lived, we never had to go back outside after entering the Tube network to reach our desks seemed like a virtue. What we had sniffily described as being “hermetically sealed” when anticipating the move became not getting battered by the weather. But we also didn’t have to stay inside if we didn’t want to: there were parks, gardens, docks, the beautiful Thames and plenty of restaurants had already sprung up to cater to all the traders the area was poaching from the City. Our trading desk threw itself into testing out the local hostelries. The restaurants at Westferry Circus were a particular favourite in summer, enjoying a view the great majestic sweep of the Thames from outside Gaucho or Royal China. One lunchtime we threw ourselves with rather too much gusto into the lunching experience. A waitress at Gaucho tapped one of our number on the shoulder at 2pm to say “Excuse, but I’m afraid your friend appears to be asleep in the gravel”, pointing to a colleague who had lunched rather too hastily and rather too well. That was that: we weren’t missing the City anymore. The Brokers even came out to see us!

As the years went by the shops, bars, restaurants and general amenities just mushroomed. From being dead at weekends life started to hum all week long, which began to make living in the area a desirable proposition. You could always make the trip down to Greenwich over the DLR or though the foot tunnel, but now people were starting to come up from the South East at weekends.

The Financial Crisis was a difficult time in the Wharf. We had a bird’s eye view of Lehman Brothers from our floor. We watched friends and former colleagues line the windows as they were told their fate before filing disconsolately out of the building. Then, of course. we had to get back to work to deal with the fall out. It didn’t hold back the Wharf for too long: a key reason was one of Gordon Brown’s better decisions, approving Crossrail. Work starting on the new line in May 2009 was just the defibrillation Canary Wharf would need. Crossrail Place is a fabulous, bold, sci-fi development which opened well before the now very well used Elizabeth Line got running. Its style is a nod to the fabulous HR Geiger-esque spine in the cathedral-like entrance to the Jubilee line station. This has in its turn made the area a great filming location for TV and films like Rogue One and Andor. This is Canary Wharf design at its best: striking, ambitious, more than a little science fiction, making some of the lower rise buildings of the original development now look a touch staid. The planting in Crossrail Place roof gardens is also now bursting forth, wonderfully lush, and is even home to birds. 

Hearing the Wharf’s abundant resource of water has now been put to good use in the form of a natural swimming pool is further great news.  It’s yet more evidence of the entrepreneurial spirit the area seems to provoke. Every few years another amenity appears, making the Wharf a better place not just to work, but to live. There is something about the ambition of the development itself that encourages others to match it.

It’s a shame Margaret Thatcher didn’t live to see what it has become. However polarising she remains, few could seriously dispute the success of the experiment, and many discussing the regeneration of that other city much in the news at the moment — Manchester — might do well to consider the similarities between the two.

Anyway, here’s to Canary Wharf’s continued growth. It’s to all our benefit: may it go from strength to strength.