Hackney has a lovely little museum. It’s housed in the modern library building beside the town hall. Despite its small size, they’ve managed to capture the history and spirit of the area. The focus is on immigration to Hackney and its oldest exhibit is from Saxon Times – it’s a logboat believed to have been made from a tree felled in 950 to 1000 when the tree was 200-250 years old. It was found near the Lea River in 1987. If such things fascinate you, you can read about it here. You’ll also see photos since my own were hindered by too much glare. The logboat itself is under glass in the floor but there is usually a model of it on the floor – it’s been stored away for now.
Of course the museum has been closed for some time but opened mid October with an exhibit of photos taken in the 1980s. I booked my slot online and waited for the day to arrive. Then on that day, I planned my route over there so that I could make the most of the time outside.
My walk started with a walk past these two ‘ladies.’ Ming Hai, a rather terrible Chinese restaurant and Casablanca, a Caribbean restaurant. I’d say both are worth a miss for food but they are constants around here. Ming was closed for some time and just reopened a week or so ago. Every day the owner comes out at the same time to open the shutters and set up her day. Her customers are loyal. Casablanca seems to be open for long, long hours – from early until quite late. People come from far away and we have our theories about its role in the community, based on who comes, who goes, and who hangs around outside.
Ming Hai and Casablanca
At the junction of Dalston Lane there’s Navarino Mansions. They were built in 1904 by the Four Per Cent Dwellings Company (now IDS, Industrial Dwellings Society) a group of Jewish philanthropists to relieve the overcrowding in homes in the East End of London. I love these buildings and they definitely deserve a lot more photographs and research but for now here are three images.
Navarino Road is an elegant street and quite different in character than how I started on Wayland Avenue (Navarino Road beginning on the other side of Dalston Lane). I can imagine that this street was settled by people who had a bit more money in their pocket.
Navarino Road housesOn the other side of Graham Road, Navarino Road looks autumnal and spacious
I always turn down Wilton Way. I love the villagey feel of that street. To my right a bit is Violet, the bakery which baked the cake for the royal wedding of Harry and Meghan. I’ve been going to Violet since I moved to Hackney. and Claire its American owner was an unknown. Claire lives on Wilton Way still but I don’t know where exactly. Today I turned left instead to head towards the back of the Hackney Empire and eventually the library.
The charming part of WIlton WayThe stark contrast of the estate on Witon Way when you get closer to Mare Street
After Wilton Way’s residential area there’s a pretty dramatic fork in the road, with one side (to the left) called Penpoll Road, a colourful but mysterious name.
Wlton Way meets Penpoll Road, a fork with a mysterious name
This morning I went to a pop up arts and crafts show in Dalston. ( I bought nothing but enjoyed the outing, and it gave me a chance to take a few photos to add to those I’d been saving for this blog.)
I’ve been feeling deflated recently. Too many apocalyptic thoughts. Sitting here waiting for the infections to rise and the death toll to start climbing, how else can anyone feel? Well, many don’t feel that way at all, so I’m told.
It’s easy to feel sorry for myself and my lethargy was getting me down. Going out helps me think about something else and it also helps me gain perspective.
Overall I’m an optimist. Although I’ll confess to being vastly disappointed and dissatisfied about the many things that others find great joy in, hope is always top or nearly top of my mind. I have great hope for many, many things. So think ‘silver lining,’ ‘counting my blessings,’ ‘it could be worse,’ ‘it will all work out in the end,’ and so on, and you have me in an optimistic nutshell.
I could be living in this makeshift shelter but I’m notAll of these shuttered shops could be out of business but they’re notI’m in a minority group, I’m a woman and I’ve faced adversity, but basically I’m hugely privileged – a white first-world childAnd even the wait or the first bus is shorter than many have to endure and gives me time to chat to a friend online, or whatever I choose to do, in a safe environment
It’s just three stops up to Dalston Junction – not far. It gives me a chance to look at the big picture and reflect on the back streets we walked on a few weeks ago. Dalston’s main streets at this point are Dalston Lane and Kingsland Road (Kingsland High Street).
Kingsland Road was part of the Roman route north named Ermine Street and was the Great North Road or Ware Road. In the early 1700s it was a toll road. Back then East of Kingsland Road was clay pits, brickfields, market gardens and nurseries. To the west it was arable land and dairy farms Despite being impoverished as the century went on, its proximity to the City made it popular , and by 1800 houses had gone up one by one along most of Kingsland Road, through Hoxton and Haggerston, towards the small hamlet of Dalston. Not so small anymore.
Today it’s a very busy high street and, since we moved into the area, it’s become trendy even before the regeneration started. What struck me today was how mixed the architecture and state of housing was in this area. When the ‘luxury flats’ sprang up, we’d often wonder who the tenants were that were happy to pay huge sums of money, and to look down on what’s sometimes squalid and wait for better times ahead.
The name Dalston is thought to come from Deorlaf’s tun (farm), in much the same way as nearby Hoxton was named after the farm of ‘Hoch’. The village was one of four small villages within the Parish of Hackney (along with Newington, Shacklewell, and Kingsland) together having only as many houses as the village of Hackney. Around 1280 a leper hospital was founded here but by the 18th and 19th Centuries the area had changed from being agricultural and rural to urban. By 1849, it was considered suburban, with some handsome old houses. By 1859 the railways came in and the village disappeared.
This corner where Kingsland Road meets Dalston Lane is original but Sheer Bliss, a hair salon which has been there for a long time, has recently had a facelift. It’s competing with some very modern shops and salons now. I can’t read the engraving on the corner but the building is Edwardian and may have been a cinema and then a bankStanding on Kingsland Road, my back to Dalston Junction station and facing Dalston Kingsland Station, the contrast is starkAnd from the back streets, the contrast is even more markedThe modern Dalston bus station, the back of the flats at Dalston Square, and the hanger-on Kingsland Road houses. Comfy together
Time to move off the main road, over behind the Kingsland Road and Dalston Lane junction.
Arcola Theatre, the old Reeves building
Beyond the Arcola Theatre is Abbot Street, basically a laneway leading down to a back yard. It’s a bit scary to walk down when it’s not daylight but, if you continue, you’ll hit the yard and find The Dusty Knuckle Bakery and the 40ft Brewery. The Dusty Knuckle has been here a while now. It’s a social enterprise that trains young offenders, and supplies some of London’s most renowned chefs with bread and pastries. They’re renowned for their inventive sandwich combinations, like Isle of Wight tomatoes, smoked anchovies, almond aioli, lovage, garden lettuce. or Chargrilled hispi cabbage & fennel, crispy pink fir potatoes and romesco. Their pizza is pretty good too! The Dusty Knuckle also has a school, where I learned fermentation and also how to make sour dough rye bread.
The 40ft Brewery is the Dusty Knuckle’s neighbour inside the yard. This makes for some great collaborations. When in the DK classes there was always plenty of free 40ft beer in the fridge while we worked. (I always took mine home for another day.) The independent home brewing company opened in 2015 and had just two 20 foot shipping containers. They’ve since expanded to 150 feet, have a bustling beer garden, and the original name has stuck.
Walking down Abbot Street to the back yard
This lovely door in the shabby alley of Abbot Street
Off the Abbot Street Yard. Such scenes always capture me40ft Brewery Seating in Abbot Street YardDusty Knuckle Bakery pizza ovenAt the back of the newer buildings along Kingsland Road, Arcola Theatre on the leftAshwin Street, Dalston. It’s like a hidden back street with lots of treats. The Arcola Theatre, Cafe Oto, and the lovely Print HouseThe old Reeves Artists Colour Works, now the Arcola Theatre building
The Reeves building dates from 1868. William Reeves was apprenticed as a gold-and-silver wire-drawer. He set up in business as a colourman in or before 1766 and in 1768 he partnered with his older brother, Thomas Reeves. They were awarded the Silver Palette of the Society of Arts, for the invention of the watercolour cake. They started in Little Britain (St Bartholomews) advertising as ‘Superfine Colour Makers.’ 1868 In London City Press of January 18th 1868 E.H Horne was announced as architect of a new Reeves factory building, with Sewell and Sons as builders – their tender was for £2,343. The brand survives today, passed from father to son, and it’s the brand of painting box that sits on my shelf here. It’s good to know a bit about the brand now.
A close up of the roof at ReevesGlorious facade of Reeves, now The Print House. It houses offices and studios and has a lovely rooftop with views over Dalston and a bar and a stageIf this door could talk…I’ve yet to find the building’s history or date of constructionDalston Eastern Curve Garden -tarted up – with a queue for its later opening, nicely distancedAcross from the Curve Garden, the new Dalston Library and Hackney Archives on Dalston Lane. Notice the Halloween balloons
We wandered around the back streets further down Dalston Lane. There are a lot of modern buildings back here and some really nice renovated buildings too. For some very odd reasons I took hardly any photos. Where are they? The loft building, Springfield House Lofts, made me a little envious but no balconies so I’ll give it a pass. As if I could even afford a bedsit in there! (Sorry -studio, or bachelor apartment, if you prefer.)
I learned that Springfield House, formerly the Shannon Factory, is the largest surviving building designed by the “remarkable” Edwin Otho Sachs – a man so passionate about fire prevention he spent time working with fire brigades in Berlin and Paris to learn more about how blazes spread. The Shannon Factory (opened in 1902) made office and bank furniture and used many combustible products. Sachs was their man.
It’s still a lovely building. Krish tells me the rest of the factory complex is still there but I recall it only by looking at Google Maps to see that the whole factory is there but part of it is gated. Another revisit for sure!
New build on the left, repurposed Springfield House Lofts on the right – Tyssen StreetDalston Cross, where Dalston Lane meets Graham Road before continuing down towards Hackney Downs Station. It’s not hard to imagine when Dalston was a hamlet. That’s another walkAt Dalston Cross, what looks like an old church or rectory building. I always admire it. I need to look longer and closer some time to get a clue what it once was
I’m not sure if I’m excited or scared about the amount of ground and history I couldn’t cover but this was what I saw during a couple of hours on the back streets of Dalston.
I went to Liverpool. That city and I go back a way. I first went there as a starstruck Beatles fan. (And that’s a whole other story – of becoming a fan.) I wasn’t, as my parents suspected, going to see the Beatles though. I should have hated that city since on arrival my friend, also called Janice, had her backpack stolen with all her money. So now we had to share my money. (It’s also possible that it was I whose stuff was stolen and we shared her money – memories are odd like that.) I’ll save talking about my adventures for another time but I grew to love that city. I met a girl in the line up for the Cavern my first night there. Anne and I are still friends. And on subsequent visits I met another girl, Elsa. Elsa and I still speak often.
A few months ago, she contacted me to let me know she and her husband, Kenny, were having a fiftieth wedding anniversary at the Cavern. A few shaky days where I thought I couldn’t go and then suddenly the tickets and hotel were all booked.
We expected two days of rain but off we went. The journey was easy and the walk to the hotel fast. I wasn’t sure what to expect from our room but it turned out to be quite lovely. There was a large bed and bathroom and then down a step to a living room area. The hotel used to be part of the Bank of Wales building next door so there’s a masculine feel to everything but we were comfortable.
We wandered around a little, had a less-than-satisfying lunch, then back to the hotel before leaving for the Cavern. We were really close to it. If we went through an alley opposite the hotel we were actually right on Mathew street where the Cavern is. It’s like my feet lead me there. But it all looks so different and there are tourist things everywhere, statues of Beatles at street level and higher up on the buildings like angels or gargoyles looking down at the crowds.
It’s so clean there now, though. It used to be dirty and feel dangerous and you’d often see rats, even swarms of them, moving from warehouse cellar to warehouse cellar looking for food. No rats in sight now. I’d like to say it’s a cool area but it’s succumbed to tourists’ whims. Neon lights everywhere, souvenir shops, mediocre places to eat, tour groups…
The new Cavern is much bigger than the old/original, and the stairs are much less steep, going down several landings deep underground – this used to be just two turns of some very steep stairs and I’d always fear falling down them. In this new space, the first room you land in is the same as the original Cavern. a low-ceilinged, brick arched space with a side section for dancing. You could almost be back fifty years but this is a sanitised version.
The new Cavern Club, echoing the old. The centre area has the iconic stage and audience area and the area to the left looks the same but it’s for dancing. Beatles Tribute Bands play here.
It’s not raunchy, and the smell of disinfectant and scouse (the Liverpool stew that gives the people their name) is gone. Now there’s a smart bar and lots of neon, and posters everywhere, and framed photos of bands who played on the original stage. If you walk along the long bar you see an old red phone box. Keep going and you’re in the Live Lounge where Elsa and Kenny were having their party. Everyone knew about it – Elsa and Kenny’s bash? yeah down there, this way… My ears are immediately familiar with the accent, although Krish tells me he doesn’t understand everything and ‘Why do they want to talk like that?’ Hmm, they just do!
It’s damn loud in the lounge too. The ceilings are low and here it’s not brick anymore. There are lots of displays and memorabilia, and it’s set up like a cabaret – lots of low tables and benches and there were none left to sit on. The place was packed. It’s actually quite amusing to go to these things. Most people are my/Elsa’s age. They look like elderly people but they’re taking in the music and it’s like someone peeled the years away. Everyone knows everyone. There’s laughing, too much alcohol, and there’s mingling and catching up. There’s an elevated area with more seating and another bar, and the toilets – I like going down there towards the toilets since there are some amazing photos of the Beatles and my favourite one, of Brian Epstein. They all look so young. I looked at one of John Lennon and was totally surprised to re-realise he was only 40 when he died. He lived a lot of life in those forty years. And there’s a lovely one of George, my (and Elsa’s) favourite Beatle. Although she, of course, knew him and has personal memories and it’s so very sad.
My goal was to watch two acts – the Hideaways, who were my favourite Liverpool band, and Beryl Marsden who never quite became famous, although you’ll find her on YouTube, and who sings the great old Cavern faves.
A favourite moment – Elsa and Freda (Kelly, the Beatles Fan Club secretary) jiving (Cavern style) at the front soon after we arrived and Judd announcing, There’s two original Cavern girls right there! And so they are, although not quite original since the club would have opened when they were only ten. Nevertheless, I’m always impressed by Elsa’s energy. I give it a good go but…
Things were running late. After one song by the Hideaways Krish said he had to leave, that he couldn’t can’t handle the crowd and the noise and the standing – I understood and was prepared for this – but the second song came on, Judd’s harmonica (they call it a gob iron in Liverpool) came out and Krish stayed till their set came to an end. They are all old men now, with much less hair, much more body fat, and their faces aren’t recognizable, but if you listen to their music, it’s like the years fall away. It’s all standard Liverpool 60s fare – old blues, soul – and they are having fun with it. Judd is centre-stage, sloppily dressed, looking messy, rotund, and yet the women still seek him out – you can see them. After Krish left, I looked around. Freda didn’t seem to know me this time and I was OK with that. I had a few words with Kenny and a few more with Elsa and I stayed to watch Beryl. Her voice is still strong and confident and she sings her songs as she has for decades – I know (I know) you don’t love me no more…. you really have to shake yourself that it’s now, 2019, Beryl is looking a bit frail, with thinner hair and that jawline is gone, but she’s still Beryl.
I told Elsa I had to leave and she was shocked I would leave without watching Kenny’s band. Oh, you HAVE to stay to watch Kenny’s band at least. So I stayed for two songs but. after I left, I felt bad for not staying even though I’d been standing for hours, and my ears were starting to ring and echo a bit too much for comfort.
Elsa watching The Kirbys, Kenny’s Band
Krish and I had a rest and then set out for a restaurant he wanted to go to across town – 15 min walk. We had a lamb tajine which was quite lovely. The appetiser and dessert were mediocre. We almost always share a meal.
Mr Cenzone on Bold StreetThe old with the newLamb tajine (with dates stuffed with walnuts) at the Kasbah
Walking up to Bold Street is weird. It’s always been a nice area for eating. It’s on the way to the huge cathedral – the fifth-largest cathedral in the world and the longest. Liverpool outside the very centre and before you hit the near suburbs doesn’t seem that different, just cleaner. but the core of the city is gone. The streets are pedestrianised and, even though they’re lined with all the familiar franchise stores, they still have the same name. So you see the name of the street and there’s no recognition of what it was once. Those new streets have just appropriated the old names as if someone erased everything except the street signs. It feels odd. Bold Street is trendier and has a real road but it looks pretty much the same as it always has. There are mostly independent shops and places to eat.
A touch of Charles Rennie Mackintosh in LiverpoolMaggie May’s, famous for scouse. We had some there once and Krish hated it. It wasn’t such a good one!
There had been a big football match that day so the street and the side streets and cafes were packed with loud celebrating fans. They had the game on even in the Cavern – the music was punctuated with loud yells and celebration as the home team were winning. When we left the restaurant I’d meant to photograph the people having fun but the rain was steady and getting heavier. Continue reading “Liverpool, my old friend”
I’m pretty sure I went to the first one ever . Somewhere I have the photos to prove it. I do remember, whenever that first one was, that there was a bunch of lovely pumpkins that were lit up at night and they had been carved during a two-day period by children. Fast forward ten years to this festival.
The garden had a stockpile of over a thousand pumpkins and invited people to come to carve them during one crazy weekend. I asked my mentee if she’d like to come carve one with me last Saturday. At the bus stop to go up to the Curve Garden the buses were going to be uncharacteristicaly late. There was an 8-minute wait for buses that usually come a few minutes apart. So I was going to be late. I sent a Whatsapp Message to say so and back came the response.
I didn’t know what that meant but I did know there were over a thousand pumpkins to carve so I formed a mental picture of that. By the time I finally arrived at the entrance to the garden I already knew my mental picture fell a bit short.
Fall is falling! Dalston SquarePeaceful so far!Still peaceful at the entrance but look beyond
When I got inside I could see that the carving tables were already full of busy carvers. The place to get the pumpkins was at the far end of the garden and there may have been 50 people in the queue. I cant believe I found HG somewhere in there but we quickly decided that one pumpkin, at £3 a pop, was the way to go.
Queuing for a pumpkinCarved on the left, new ones on the right! Piled highLet the carving commence! There were several carving tables, all with a monitor
We found a table and took turns holding the baby, who was decked out in a pumpkin theme, drawing lots of attention. I had the job of hollowing out the pumpkin while HG would carve. Baby duty prevailed. We talked about the rise of Halloween events in the UK and how much we missed candy corn, and the pumpkin was done. We added it to the growing stash on the stage and went to get a table and a hot drink.
Doldrums for the weather and for my blog. Hopefully, the photos will tell the story of what’s been happening during this mostly dreary month. With any luck my ennui won’t show!
Taken early in November from my window. The bark is going and the leaves getting sparseStreet art in the back streets of Dalston – ethereal, magicalA catfish noodle salad box at Bánh Mì Hội-An, Hackney Central – Passable, cheap, not really a salad!
