London's Crispy Landmarks

Anyone planning a trip to London this year?
Well you can skip Greenwich unless you like charcoal.

Some of us at the office like to take the river taxi from Westminster down to Greenwich and sit at the tables outside the Cutty Sark pub with a nice pint and admire the view.
It used to be pretty impressive, as pub views go. This and the picture at the bottom were taken on our last visit to the pub.

Hey ho.
So the beautiful old tea clipper Cutty Sark caught fire yesterday morning and the fire brigade were there in five minutes.
But thanks to Health and Safety legislation they had to just sit there and watch it burn for forty-five minutes while they rousted the on-site contractor out of bed and got him to sign a method statement declaring that to the best of his knowledge there were no gas cylinders or hazardous chemicals on board. Then and only then could they get on and fight the fire … er.
What a bunch of wank.

Thanks to the fucking Health and Safety Executive (the bane of my life at work), this is what the old girl looks like now.

I spend a great deal of my working life hurling colourful profanities at Eric, our Health and Safety Officer.
"You can't go on that roof without a filing a method statement and wearing a safety harness." is one of his favourites.
"Bollocks!" is what I usually reply before going up on the roof and doing what I have to do.

All this is of course driven by the fucking insurance industry, for whom a specially built circle of Hell awaits.
Longtime blogpals will know my views on insurers. If you're new, just picture a lot of swearing.

Hey! What's the difference between an insurance company and the mafia?
If you pay money to the mafia, they'll protect you.

… oh, and they dress better, too.

Thankfully, they were in the middle of refurbishing the ship, so all of the masts, rigging, upper decks and original fittings were off site in storage. Thank to that fluke, one day she will look like this again.
No thanks to the fucking H&SE.
Useless bastards.