Sunday, 11 November, 2018
This morning it’s raining. It’s been raining since yesterday mid-afternoon. It’s not the relentlessly heavy Turin rain but it’s a lot for London, along with the sometimes fierce wind. By 3:30pm it looks like twilight and the mornings are dark enough that I light candles rather than turn on the lamps. It must be November!
London feels nothing like Turin. The light, the architecture, the feel of the streets, the earthy smell here. It feels more mellow in Hackney.
On Wednesday we wanted to go out but it was another rainy day. So it was Thursday when I decided to take a trip to Kings Cross to check out some venues for a Christmas get together for some colleagues.I go to Kings Cross a lot and it was just last Saturday that we arrived at St Pancras but there I was again. The market in front of the station was in full swing. I smiled at a stall selling Italian pastries – smaller and more refined looking than the Turin bakeries. Like toytown versions of the real thing. But it was good to see the traditional British take on food, especially the stalls that sold pies, sausage rolls and scotch eggs. They need more of that in Toronto and in Turin.
Inside the station, all was the same. It’s a quieter, more organised feeling than in Turin or Milan. Nobody is rushing around, there’s plenty of station help and it’s like a rather well oiled machine. All surrounded by thriving cafes and little franchise shops. There were poppy sellers, and a giant cake. There’s a 140 year celebration going on at Kings Cross and St Pancras. The cake honours that. I entered the Instagram competition with a photo but missed my opportunity for free cake, which would happen later.
I reflected later that many of London’s big stations feel more like the smaller Italian ones. The concept of stations strategically placed to serve the various geographical directions is a brilliant one. It all feels more manageable.
Outside the station more construction is going on. This new Kings Cross area is worthy of more exploration. How many more buildings are going up? I enjoy the clean modern areas punctuated with old train yard and canalside buildings. Everything coexists in a friendly fashion.
One of the older granary buildings by the canal (at Granary Square) is now part of Central St Martins. There’s a lot of buzz in here, especially as I arrived just as classes were letting out. There was an alarm sounding somewhere that I thought might mean school was ending but, when I got outside, the whole complex had emptied out. There were masses of people and I had to elbow my way through.
I went to meet Krish at Aldgate but we were an hour early for our dinner at so walked about and rediscovered Whitechapel. I was itching to do more but I felt weary and night was closing in. It wasn’t even 5pm yet.
After a quiet – and very rainstormy – Friday, I went out alone to visit Netil Market and buy some dim sum supplies. It was cool and sunny. I feel myself in these areas and yet I’m strangely out of place. It’s an area peopled by under-30s, with a mild sprinkling of the hipster 40s. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m the odd one or even feel judged. No matter what, I engage people and usually make them laugh, and I think about buying things that have ridiculous and unreasonable price tags. It’s all very pretty.
Luckily, it’s also delicious. I almost always resist Victoria Yum – that’s one of our local bakers. Her Instagram feed is gorgeous and her baking even better. I always assume the woman behind the counter is Victoria but who knows. For some reason, and in all these years, I’ve never asked. After all ‘Violet’ is owned by Claire Ptak and not Violet anything.
Today Victoria has five different brownies so, I stare longingly at the cakes, think about how I’ve missed those cake displays in Italy, and I choose a coffee cheesecake brownie to take home – £2.50 worth of delicious!
Since Broadway Market got so crowded, Netil Market is a pleasure to visit. I browse in the little container shops and along the stalls but I don’t think I’ve ever bought anything other than a coffee or the rare piece of Victoria’s cake.
So it’s back to Hackney life. One week already! Many missed photos of the cheerful red buses stacked up on that small section of Dalston Lane – yesterday I counted seven of them – and it feels almost normal again. I went to the shop this morning to buy a little tide-us-over milk and, as I turned the key to get back in, I did think about how sad it would feel not to be here any more.
