Here is an interactive map, created by the Robert Redford Conservancy for Southern California Sustainability, showing the approximately 1,573,777,062 square feet of industrial space that can be found in Los Angeles, Riverside, and San Bernardino.

The map allows you to zoom in on specific parcels to see things like site area, warehouse size, and year built. You can also play around with different map radii to create a rollup of warehouse space within a specific area, which includes an estimate of daily truck traffic and CO2 produced.

The Guardian also used this data to create the following chart, which is helpful in showing the dominance of certain cities, as well as how much of this industrial space has been built since 2010:

This article from the Guardian about two Brutalist housing estates in London is now more than five years old. But the story is perhaps just as interesting. The article is about two "New Brutalism" estates that were designed and built in the 1960s and 1970s.

The first is the Barbican Estate (which appeared recently on the blog over here) and the second is Robin Hood Gardens (pictured above, partially). Both were designed by notable architects and both have been equally divisive when it comes to their aesthetic appeal. We're talking about Brutalism. So it's likely that you either love them or hate them.

One of the big differences between these two housing complexes is that one is a private estate and the other is (or was) social housing. And perhaps because of this, the Barbican has remained desirable and Robin Hood Gardens was ultimately

Here is an excerpt from a Guardian article that was published last year (by Tim Burrows) about Grimsby, England:

In Grimsby’s 1930s heyday, fishermen used to head to Freeman Street as soon as they were off the trawler, straight to the Lincoln or the Corporation Arms to spend their bountiful earnings. A century previously, Grimsby had been a fairly sleepy fishing village, but by the 1890s it was on the way to becoming the biggest fishing port in the world. In the mid 20th-century, trawlers were bringing in 500 tonnes of fish a day.

Today, Grimsby still has a thriving indoor market (paid for by the EU and the Enrolled Freemen of Grimsby, an organisation that dates back to the 13th century), but the further north towards the docks you walk, the emptier and more dilapidated things get. A local businessman says sex workers wait around at night for lorries to take them to the deserted docks. “It’s a legacy of the old fishing days.”

There is scant legacy to be found elsewhere. After a long decline, the fishing industry died in the mid 1980s, its owners selling their trawlers to companies in Aberdeen or Japan. Unlike Hull across the river, currently basking in its year as Capital of Culture, Grimsby is the Humber city that never was.