A Mapping Philosophy

‘Ultimate Fantasist’for the

Intro - 1

A Walk Through Mordor - 2-7

Findings at Canary Wharf - 8-9

Slipping into Wonderland - 10-13

A Tale of Covent Garden - 14-15

A Wreckage at Southbank - 16-17

A Yellow Thames - 18-21

I Choose You! - 22-23

Diagon Alley - 24-25

Contents

Cartographic tools of the modern age have faltered at the first hurdle. They cannot record the narrative and

wanderlust that exists in every journey we take.

Our understanding of a current mapped environment requires a low level of imagination and adventure. In order to find the contemporary treasure of experience; we must

look at the world differently.

This book presents a mapping philosophy that directly imbues everyday adult realities with whimsical fantasies

and freedoms of a child-like journey.

Embraced by fantasists and romantic cartographers, this anthology of collected interviews and personal accounts explore the human imagination and a future of mapping

that has already begun to alter the world around us.

It aims to readdress the balance of scientific exactitude by stitching the conspiracy, fantasy, and f lights of fancy to create intriguing scenarios of implausibility. It looks to question how pre existing structures of the landscape can be seen differently and demonstrates how they can be

imagined in the everyday.

Intro

1.

There are far too many boulders everywhere. Between them and the private property it’s basically impossible to

navigate easily.Also, one of my favorite cafes has been obliterated by a lava f low. Which was rather irritating. However, there is now a clear path between what was Manchester Street, right through to Baker Street, which I suppose is useful.

Things went from bad to worse after that.I accidently walked into an ash pile when trying to avoid a small rockslide. I’m not sure If you know this, but ash is

really, really difficult to remove from suede shoes.

“

”

2.

Something dark was going on that night, that’ all I know.It’s late, I mull over how the day has dragged as I head to Canary Wharf underground; my usual route as stif ling as ever.I alight the escalator and the dull cycle takes me down to yet another set before I might reach my train. I look to check my watch, and f linch as a phosphorescent glare catches me in the eye; a spectrum of harsh blue light is being cast from one of the

escalator arm rails parallel to me.

Someone I believe to be underground maintenance is silhouetted in the light waving something around along the ground. I cannot quite make it out for the glare but I think it looks like some kind of metal detector, why the hell would you be searching here? I squint into the blue, and I can fathom egg shaped forms. I nearly trip as I am redirected by warning signs to the opposite end of the platform. I see the doors of the one lift juddering open and just get sight of blackened fingers clutching the door open before I am pushed along my those

behind me, frantic to catch the final train out.

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”

9.

It was the most curious thing. I was walking through Charing Cross train station when I saw this man who was dressed all in white look up at the grand clock and

abruptly run off in a hurried dash.I had very little better to do, so I decided to follow him.

It was when I passed Trafalgar Square and got to the Admiralty Arch that things began to get a little strange; a peculiar man threw a drink up in the air, and in my

haste I fell, sliding what seemed a rather long way for just a little slip. I stood up, straightening myself out and found myself staring at a coffee cart. Oddly, instead of coffee, there were little bottles with “Drink Me” written on, I figured they were tasters, so I gave one a try. I was feeling a little woozy and

disproportional after this.

There were people hiding in the f lower patches taunting and teasing me. The fall really must have gotten to me as I began crying uncontrollably, it was most

embarrassing. Then there was this thing with all these animals, swashing and barging - it was terribly dry. Then there was a cottage, and two funny looking signposts stuck together, a bandstand with a bizarre character smoking puff after puff, a rude pigeon and the moon looked as though it were smiling at me. I sat down at a picnic table for a while, but there was a man in a top hat who was talking to the

animals sitting atop the table, asking riddles and drinking tea.

I’m not sure of what happened next, but I vaguely recall something about frogs and lobsters… and the Queen playing croquet?

Anyway, I lost the man in white and somehow I ended up at Buckingham Palace, and so I decided to walk through St James Park back to Charing Cross. However, I did have to do some dodging; there was an awful mess where someone had

decided to slop red paint all over the white roses.

Strange person.

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”

11.

13.

I can barely see my hand in front of my face, it smells stale and musty as I trail my feet through a labyrinth of cold marble pillars, bumping into tiny rickety stalls manned by cloaked people urging invisibles to seek their cobwebbed Persian rugs and ornate tapestries draped upon the f loor causing me to trip and stumble. As I rise I feel a warm moist air pulsate over my face, I scream but in this place there is no sound, I scream again, but there is only silence as my dark surroundings begin to move. They form of legs, twitching and pulling together to lift the black mass in front of me. I scream, I scream, scrambling away and run, twisting through the pillars until I feel a cold air, I can hear again and there is a pale light softening the way ahead. I reach the lamp fixed

to the pillar, I am out, I have found an exit!

As my vision adjusts, blurred Chinese lanterns f loat into my vision, rising and taking me with them. I am safe in the light.

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”

15.

There was something weird going on. I was walking through the tunnels to leave London Bridge station when the wind picked up. While that wasn’t anything new, it was the smell the wind carried with it that caused my

confusion.

Salt.Sea salt.

Hurrying out of the tunnel, which was warped, the bricks eroded and crumbling, I glanced around and was surprised to find rock pools dotted around embedded in the pavement and tarmac. I moved closer towards what I thought was the river and Shad Thames, only to find the gray slate of the Queens walk giving way to sandy

beaches and gently lapping water.

‘What was this place?’ I wondered as I looked around. Gone was the corporate glass and slate of city hall. Potters Fields had become a sand bank. The Scoop had become an inlet. The hulking, iron mass of the HMS Belfast was

wrecked upon sharp rocks, red and orange with rust.

I glanced at my watch; I had a good hour till my meeting. ‘Might as well look around’ I thought as I set off towards

the shore.

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”

17.

I was riding a Boris bike through the city and across Tower Bridge, when all of a sudden gale-force winds are f lying me around everywhere, washing me up on the banks of the River Thames. Coming to, I become aware of much giggling going on about me. How rude! I think, laughing at me for being in such danger. Gathering myself, I notice that just ahead of me the water is all but gone - how on earth the bed of the river Thames so clean and bright, I do not know – nonetheless,

I make my way along its stretch.

Feeling ever more aware that I was being followed, I turn to see a small terrier falling in behind me. Shrugging it off, I continued on until I stumbled upon a man who appeared to be a little tied up. Thinking that there is probably a reason as to why he’s tied up (you know, Covent Garden straightjackets and all), and I once again carry on. But then, somehow unhinging himself, he comes yammering along to me something about his mind not being right. Taking sympathy, I let him join me on my journey. Then we find a heavily sedated, silver-painted man, who seemed a little rusty on the joints

but intent on joining us. Who was I to say no?

By the time I reached the Rotherhithe Tunnel, I had a dog, two street performers and a hung-over lad - dressed in a lion costume who would only blubber about not having had enough courage to go up to any girls the night before - in toe. We

walked through this field of red f lowers and into a rather green looking Canary Wharf.

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19.

21.

I left the corner shop and BAM- a wild Pokemon attacked! I didn’t know what to do so I ran, I ran for my life! Through the tall grass and past the Pokemart. But the tall grass was everywhere! BAM! Another attack! I ran again and hid behind these

strange luminescent green trees.

What the hell happened?

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”

23.

On an average and supposedly regular saturday morning, I went to take my usual walk to the market in borough. However, today was different to the many others. Upon my normal visit along the cobbled streets of Shad Thames, I noticed an unusual number of caped, mysterious individuals, and my thinking was of course that this is London after all; and one does tend to ignore the youthful clothing sense of the young and fashionable, but this felt very

odd indeed.

It seemed to coincide with a number of strange animals such as owls and cats that hung in small cages along the road. Large cauldrons were stacked by the side of the street, and peculiar signs were swaying from unfamiliar shop fronts. It was like walking through another world, a strange and magical bubble of what I

can only describe as fantastically queer.

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”

25.

Presented for Nokia

Amber Newland, Mary Haymaker, Hannah Wilson & Lucy Silverwood

SCAPEby