Aran Osman is perched 12 feet up a ladder on a dim and drizzly evening in Central London, tinkering about with a 100-year-old gas lamp in the gloom.
Most of us would be moaning or cursing, or grumbling under our breath, but not Aran Osman as he swings the small glass door open on its antique hinges, gives the mechanism a brief once over, checks the gas covers, and begins winding with a big shiny key, he’s aglow with satisfaction.
He chirps as the four delicate mantles made of silk spark into life, that when he gets up there, it’s beautiful, and that when the lamps are out and he puts them back up, there’s a feeling of satisfaction and his spirit lifts.
The soft, golden gleam lights up his happy face. The rain descends gently in the misty night air. The aroma of mulching autumn leaves rises, and behind, Westminster’s Victoria Tower looms and Big Ben chimes, and if it wasn’t for Aran’s smart, modern British Gas anorak, you could almost be back in Dickensian London with its smoggy air and brooding sense of mystery.
Instead, it’s a stone’s throw from the busy A3212 and Aran, one of the tiny but extremely dedicated team, who each spend up to 60 hours a week caring for the city’s 1,500 odd gas lamps, is doing his rounds as he cleans and winds and mends and fettles his exquisite cast iron charges.
He said as he describes the difference between the electronically managed gas lamps, with a digital mechanism to turn them on and off, and the mechanical ones that need winding every fortnight that you become extremely connected to them, like friends, almost, but that you love them all.
And he’s not alone. Though there are only five London lamplighters left, all evangelical about both their job and these beautiful beacons. They refer to themselves as guardians and custodians of the lamps, and they’d do the job for nothing if they had to. No one leaves this team, except to retire, and even then they’d prefer to work on, were it not for the pension.
They talk frequently about the lamps to each other, to members of the public, to their long-suffering wives, and to former coworkers who’ve retired but can’t say goodbye after 40-odd years up ladders.
These lamps are part of our past and must never be erased.
Next, they’ll be replacing Big Ben with a smark clock and of course, tourists love quaint old London, and the majority of our own British people are proud of our historic past, too…
Gas lamps are a nod to the past and they’re beautiful, they’re our legacy, but small-minded people want to totally obliterate Britain’s history, and people who make judgments like this know the cost of everything but don’t know the value of anything, and unfortunately vandals are in charge of councils throughout the country.
I’m absolutely sick to death of officialdom ruining our heritage, it’s disgraceful, and these lamps should be kept because it’s nice to have some reminder of how London used to be.
Anything to do with our history should be considered a national or cultural treasure and should be fiercely protected by laws and the people, but gradually our cultural heritage is being erased before our very eyes.
A few historic gas-lit lamps are scarcely a threat to global warming and CO2 emissions, let them be!
These lamps are beautiful and we should be entitled to have some lovely things in our historic country, or doesn’t it suit the woke, cancel-all lefties, or the newcomers?
THE MONTHLY MOSQUITO 