Hobbling into Spring, a lovely new mural, and Victoria Park

Friday, 23 March, 2018

Somehow I missed the Spring Equinox. So no photos from that day, sadly. This Spring in London reminds me more of a Toronto Spring – warm days  mixed with very cold, even snowy, days. A yoyo time and I’m so so ready for the day I can throw off the winter coat and boots.

My cheeses are worrying me. Yes, Philip and Keith both said leave them alone and they’ll be fine. They are now sitting in my fridge inside a cardboard box, on a trivet, with a cup of water to keep the humidity up. They are all covered in a grey fur (apparently normal) I have mixed up the blue and the white – was so careful to keep the labels close and then in the transfer got not-surprisingly confused. Now no idea which is which. The French cheese wouldn’t come out of the mould but when Philip suggested I turn it upside and let it fall out on its own, it did – almost immediately, ripping the bottom off. Now we just have to wait and see how it ends up!

My cheeses maturing - before the French one ripped
My cheeses maturing – before the French one (bottom left) ripped

On Wednesday I went to Leigh on Sea to see my aunt Ruth.  We ate our usual fish and chips and talked about family. It was a pleasant and mild day – the sun shone and all was right with the world.  I have yet to fix a date to see my other aunt, Kay – who is also my cousin, but that confuses everyone. My mum and dad officially met when mum’s cousin Kay married Dad’s older brother Ed. Couldn’t be easier but everyone looks stunned and mutters things like incest…um, no!

My aunt's suburban street and her usual seat
My aunt’s suburban street and her usual seat

Thursday, it was cooler again and quite grey. I put the finishing touches on another doll and I decided to take the bus to see a new mural that had been commissioned for the centenary of the vote for some UK women. But first, back to Green Papaya where I sat quietly and contemplated my life or my navel or perhaps the dish in front of me. My decision was that I prefer the Toronto version, which has the sauce served separately and uses a different type of pork – even a choice of grilled meats. However, these little breaks in my week are very important to me and it’s the best thing to eat in this neighbourhood!

Grilled belly pork at Green Papaya
Grilled belly pork at Green Papaya

The bus to Old Ford Road goes through Victoria Park, where I played as a child. There are a lot of memories but not many clear facts about this area. I don’t recall exploring as a child but instead treading the same streets many many times on the way to the market, to nursery school, to the sweet shop, going to the park, visiting my Aunt Kay’s dress factory (a treasure trove!) outside playing on the pavement, and walking down towards my maternal grandmother, Charlotte’s (Lottie’s) house (perhaps a mile away).

Today I was headed to see a mural, though. It’s on the Old Ford Road which runs adjacent to the park. A long time ago, as a child, my mother had a friend on this street. She lived in one of the tall houses, perhaps occupying one or two of the floors. She had a daughter my age and that daughter introduced me to the ‘interesting’ game of ‘doctor.’ The details are shameful and I hope no permanent damage was done! Other people’s children seemed far more experienced in such things. Always the ‘good girl,’ I’d follow along and wonder why. I still do.

Close to where the mural is, lived my aunt Anne and my cousin Sandra, whose second name was Helen. Annie preferred that we called her Helen but I remember always calling her Sandra. These days she is called Helen and the S word is banished. We grew up together as babies. She was one month younger than I was so our mothers would congregate. Sandra Helen lived on the road where my nursery school was. On the main floor of her house lived a lady called Annabelle and I think another lady who was a sister, but perhaps not.  Annabelle was bedridden and loved to have us visit her in her big bedroom. I suppose that whatever she had would not have tied her to bed these days. This is a sad thought.

Number 8, where Sandra Helen lived. Still there and still with its crazy plaque that reads Uncle Tom's Cabin (dated 1860?) now worth £1,226,000
Number 8, where Sandra Helen lived. Still there and still with its crazy plaque that reads Uncle Tom’s Cabin (dated 1860?) now worth £1,226,000!

Aunt Anne was a cheerful East End type with blonde or sandy hair (often tied in a scarf) and Uncle Len was a burly redfaced man with a wonderfully jolly nature. Older brother Tony seemed very old – he was the son of a man Anne had married but died in ‘the war.’ Tony was mostly invisible. I always thought Sandra Helen’s family must be rich. Why? Because their outdoor toilet had two holes. Luxury!

I walked along the road a little bit, and over the lovely Regents canal
I walked along the road a little bit, and over the lovely Regents canal

Finally, at number 402 was the Lord Morpeth Pub and on its side the mural I was looking for. It commemorates the centenary of the vote for some UK women and also local resident (during the first world war) Sylvia Pankhurst.

The Sylvia Pankhurst Mural
The Sylvia Pankhurst Mural

It’s a beautiful commissioned mural, painted by ‘colour blind’ Australian artist, Ketones6000. The choice of sepias and greys is inspired. Gorgeous detail and worth a revisit on a less overcast day. There’s a green next to the painting and I didn’t want to climb over the fence to get closer but with company I will do that. On this green would have sat number 400, where Sylvia lived. It was the site of the Women’s Hall and third headquarters of the East London Federation of Suffragettes. There is a ton of women’s rights and suffragette history in this area, too much to mention here but i’ll put some links at the end.

The houses by the park, where my mother’s friend would have lived, the houses are tall and impressive. They must be worth a small fortune these days if Uncle Tom’s Cabin is over a million. There was a stunningly vivid peony bush there that I stopped to admire.

Red peonies along Old Ford Road
Red peonies along Old Ford Road

I walked through Victoria Park a bit. I’m not a huge fan of parks and rarely visit just for the sake of it but I do like the London custom of royal parks.

I sat and reminisced about coming here with my maternal grandfather. He was an avid fisherman (and died fishing!). We would go together to a fish tackle shop on the Roman Road and buy maggots to fish with – disgusting smelly things, I remember. And he’d ‘fish’ in the duck pond. I can’t imagine doing this today. It must have been awful but he loved to do it. Often I’d come here with mum or dad with a bag of bread and feed the ducks. Simple and enjoyable pleasures.

Some gate detail and the lovely old park keeper's lodge
Some gate detail and the lovely old park keeper’s lodge
The duck pond where grandad would fish and I'd feed the ducks. You could row on this water and buy hot Ribena at the cafe
The duck pond where grandad would fish and I’d feed the ducks. You could row on this water and buy hot Ribena at the cafe

And home!

 

 

She seems quirky/scatty - maybe a bit like me
She seems quirky/scatty – maybe a bit like me

Links for the curious:
Old Ford history
Sylvia Pankhurst and the East End Suffragettes – Historic locations and where to find them
Some more info about the Old Ford Road

2 Replies to “Hobbling into Spring, a lovely new mural, and Victoria Park”

  1. Three and a half hours to Aunt Kay’s. Ouch. But I have a good feeling about the cheese.

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