Revisits – where do I go?

Monday, 7 February, 2022

I must confess to wanting to see somewhere different. Lately, I’ve been returning to old haunts, though. I have many trips in mind, but the pandemic hasn’t let go of us. I’m not sure where it will land us, but for now I’m just not keen to go too far. I have a birthday coming up in just a month and, while Krish talks about travelling a few hours to get a perfect Chinese meal, my sights are set closer to home. There must be something wrong with me! Or maybe not.

Before the pandemic we would go away at least a few times. That year, 2019, it was trips to see my aunts in Southend, an overnight to Leicester, six weeks in Toronto, a few days each in Glasgow and in Pembrokeshire. There may have been others. There must have been. Now Krish talks about revisiting Porto, Budapest, Torino, perhaps a new place – Istanbul,  Valencia, Copenhagen… we’ve bounced the idea of Warsaw, of Marrakesh, Sicily… With the pandemic on our minds, we thought about the UK and there are still places that are on my list but untried – Nottingham, Colchester, Norwich..

Both aunts have died now. It takes me a while to let that sink in. I dreaded those journeys each time and always knew they would inevitably end. Now they have. Our Two Together rail discount card lies idle. At least it really helped with our couple of trips to Southend earlier, and to Sheffield and Leicester. When the weather turns warmer, there will hopefully be more.

And close to home we’ve stayed for the most part. Krish’s hospital visits meant I could explore alone or with him in areas that I didn’t know very well. Now he’s not going very often so revisits to closer familiar places are the ticket They’re an opportunity to find something different and have one of those why-did-I-never-notice-that-before moments. Somehow there’s always at least one. It surprises every time.

It worries me, when I consider returning to Toronto, that I can’t have nearly as many of those moments in a city built on a grid system and where there’s a certain uniformity of architecture. My friend, Esmeralda, once described it (after returning from her travels) as homogenous.  I’d definitely have to adapt and be more willing to walk further and dig deeper.

So here’s a look at the familiar places I’ve visited in the last couple of weeks.

I took Krish to see Wood Street. It’s only a few stops away so an easy journey. I wanted to check out the Mexican Homies on Donkeys so we headed over to the Wood Street Market that had been closed when I was last there, before Christmas. The market is an indoor arcade filled with jumbled little kiosks and rooms. A notice at the entrance told us that this used to be The Crown Cinema, from 1912 to 1956 and is now a haven for antique and record collectors. I took photos of some of the colourful little shops inside.










The visit to Homies on Donkeys was to taste a taco or two and buy a bag of corn tortillas – so hard to find in London. I decided that I would taste the tacos first before investing in a bag of 40 tortillas. The choices weren’t ones I’d have ordinarily bought but I chose a milder chicken and a spicier pork one. Both tasted strongly of chipotle, and the extra guacamole I ordered was runny like a salad dressing. Not a bad taco but not a great one. I left without buying the tortillas.




Down the street we came across two Palestinian places. Only later did I think that maybe I could have taken some falafels home. We kept walking – I’d seen a sign that the William Morris House was close by so we aimed to walk there. It just wasn’t clear where or how far it was so we turned on our heels back to the station instead.






We had a run into Whitechapel. Krish wanted lentils, I wanted dumplings, and it was time for more samosas. I’d seen an ad for dumplings – three bags for 9.99 – at a store in Whitechapel that looked like it was new. As soon as we reached our stop, Krish decided he could do without the lentils – cross that off the list, then. Instead we went looking for the dumpling place. It’s called Tian Tian Market and it’s in the new complex near Aldgate East Station, where Guan (the supper club guy) lives. That store was so tidy! And spacious.

Whitechapel has a curious mix of architecture. Sometimes it’s very modern, sometimes it’s very old. Sometimes it’s a jumble of styles that make no sense.





It would be interesting to be able to see into the future and know what the area will look like, perhaps in fifty years from now. I have no doubt some of the old will remain, but I really think it will be unrecognisable. Continue reading “Revisits – where do I go?”

Two faces of Hackney Wick

Monday, 17 January, 2022

This isn’t the first time I’ve blogged about Hackney Wick, and it’s likely not to be the last time. The thing about the area is that it’s changing – rapidly. In a nutshell, it’s gentrifying. When I first arrived in Hackney, I found out that I lived close to a community of artists – largest in Europe, it claimed – so I wandered over. What I found back in those early 2000s days was a largely derelict area, kind of like a rambling collection of industrial parks, and being me, I was fascinated with the whole thing. I took photos back in those days – of walls and buildings covered in art, some accomplished, some scribblings, and of letterboxes and doors. No official nameplates there – just painted and written flat numbers outside old factories with names listed one below the other. I had flashbacks of being in San Francisco and of communes, everyone in together.

There was a street festival every year, Hackney WickED, so I went back for it. People sat around on the ground, on fire escapes, at booths. There were others spray painting new art. There were cafes, often vegetarian or the not talked about so much in those days vegan. There was live music. I walked by the canal and saw people sitting on rickety chairs. Beatnik, hippy, arty, unconventional, rebellious, eco warrior…I could go on.

I remember going to the Hackney Pearl – everybody loved that place and I thought I must be missing out. One visit there cured me of that. There was a Banksy in those days by the canal. I remember that. The whole place was a mess but somehow glorious. The Olympics changed all that. Hackney Wick was somewhat exempt, being on the over side of the canal to all the action, but it was brushed and that’s all it took.

One by one the scrapyards and the factories tumbled – converted or demolished. The artist-heavy community rebelled. They were always good at that. As far as I can tell, they didn’t get too far, although there are holdouts. What you see in Hackney Wick today is the remnants of what used to be alongside the very smart, but sadly no-personality luxury loft conversions and luxury flats. They have names that are a nod to the past –  Bagel Factory, Shoe Factory, Ceramic Works. They don’t fix the past.

The protests continue…for some. Interestingly, in the local paper an interview with an older resident was glowing about all the changes. What works for some doesn’t for others.

Protest art on the side of the Hackney Pearl

The Lord Napier Pub has often been featured as an icon for Hackney Wick, since it’s been covered in graffiti for many years. It also happens to be Hackney Wick’s only pub something I find quite inconceivable for this city of pubs on every corner. On the other hand, Hackney Wick is perhaps just a corner. It’s posh inside now and the art continues (with new works by Tizer, Sweet Toof, Phelgm, Run, Mighty Mo, ThisOne, Oust, DKAE, Lucky, BuskOne, Will Barras, Greg Abbott, Teddy Baden & Cept.)  I’ve also heard they have good Northern Thai food, but I haven’t been able to try it yet.

Lord Napier pub before regeneration (not taken by me)
The Lord Napier today
The Lord Napier today



On these next photos, with the ominous Phlegm figure threatening with an overhead anvil on the left, you can see the very modern building that’s now close to it.




The map shows how compact the area is and also a rough guess at where we walked. I’m sure I must have left some off but I have a terrible sense of direction and get completely turned around in my memory and in real life. The photos show some interesting sights along the way.



















We had plans to eat while at Hackney Wick. I was quite keen to try the food at the pub, but Krish suggested we look for pizza and did some research to see where.  He chose Natura. At first it didn’t look like much. A pizza and pasta place at the end of a street where the housing estate is. Inside there were rough wooden block tables with bench seats. At lunch time many of the regular sized pizzas are served with a drink for 8.40, about a third less than at dinner. We ordered a pizza with ham and some spaghetti with meat sauce. They were really friendly in there and we were relaxed, the only people in there. The server told us that it was usually a busy place in the evening but lunch times were quiet – so cheaper pizza! The pasta was so so, the pizza was well done. Krish wants to go back for lunch again and get a different pizza.


The estate hasn’t changed at all. I wonder how the residents feel about their area and all the changes it’s gone through, and their new well-heeled neighbours. And come to think of it, the estate is the third face of Hackney Wick.

We noticed a lot of orange-based graphics as we walked,   along White Post Lane. It wasn’t until I got home and read the local Wick paper that I learned more. The artwork was an initiative called Paint the Town Orange by an enterprise called MEUS.  MEUS is a  tech company focused on the fitness and wellbeing of men. Ten top street artists created art to raise awareness for men’s mental health during men’s mental health month, November 2021.  Here are just some of the pieces we saw on our walk.








The heart of Hackney Wick is small enough to discover all in one go, but we tend to take things in smaller bites, especially when they are so close by. There’s a barbecue spot I’ve been wanting to try for quite some time so there’s a good reason to be back soon. We headed back towards the Lord Napier, to our bus stop, and home for tea!

Sheffield (part two) – Kelham Island mostly

Wednesday, 27 October, 2021

We stayed in bed till late. It was nice to not be rushing about. Then some time before noon we went to the bus stop. A day bus and tram pass is £5.10 so we got one each. My London bus pass is good for any bus but doesn’t work on trams.

There was just a driver and a ‘learner’ and us on board. The driver said we’d definitely know when we reached our stop – Kelham Island. Where exactly were we going, he asked. No clue, we said. He smiled. We sailed through the centre of town and it got woodsy very quickly. The houses start to look more like you’re in Yorkshire and there are pockets of new housing areas. But, as Krish pointed, the edge of the city and the countryside isn’t very far at all. The bus pulled over, its first stop. This is Kelham Island, said the bus driver, all this (gesturing with his arms). We’ll just get out here and explore, said Krish It’s a great area that the River Don weaves through. Old mill houses and factories long forgotten but it was fascinating to imagine the time gone by. Some buildings are beautifully preserved or restored or repurposed, but with so much dereliction there are very interesting new builds, some almost Scandinavian looking. Must be the forest effect

A building off the main road had caught my eye so we headed towards it. Along the way there was an art trail with plenty to photograph. (There are a lot of street art photos to show, but so many that I’ve decided not to post any here but make a whole page of them as part of my Sheffield ‘series.’ I know there’s much more to see, but not this time.) I noticed a few people heading down the road too, all with takeaway food boxes and I began to wonder if perhaps there was no food down here. That wasn’t a pleasant thought since I was pretty hungry and getting lightheaded. I hoped there would be at least a corner shop somewhere.  Meanwhile the streets were very interesting and looked they might have housed factory workers at one time. We crossed a bridge over a lovely river with a weir. This was a nature reserve and there were quite a few ducks. Downstream I could see the Kelham Island Museum. It was difficult to figure out how to approach it so we followed the road around and hoped it would eventually be clear.  At the end of the road, just over the river was the building I’d spotted. There was a bit of facadism but the factory building was pretty much intact, stretching to the bottom of the road around the corner for some distance. It was now residences.

I really needed to eat but so many places were closed, till evening or forever. I saw a café that I’d read about and went in. It was so warm and lively in there but every seat was taken so I bought some orange juice and we carried on.

Around here were some old buildings, but also new housing. There were hoardings and some construction and older buildings that were  now commercial or office space. There was clearly a lot of regeneration in this area. Already I was telling myself, This would be my place.


And now we could see the museum in sight so we made a beeline down beside a canal lined with old factories and the odd shop, none selling food.



Outside the museum were very large pieces of machinery including an enormous melting cauldron (as we guessed it was – in my hypoglycaemic state of mind, reading plaques was out of the question).

Inside the museum entrance hall we looked briefly at the walls. I had thought we might go to a place called The Cutlery Works, a sort of modern food hall (called the largest in the north)  inside an old cutlery manufacturers (a mainstay of the area). I’d meant to go there at the beginning of our exploration and avoid a low blood sugar crisis, but we’d not found it. The bus driver had said ‘All this is Kelham Island’ so I thought it would be apparent, but no. A museum volunteer offered me a museum map and I told her we couldn’t stay today and asked her if she knew where The Cutlery Works was. She seemed puzzled, shook her head, and told us we could go the museum café across the walk. Sadly, their café smelled like Brenda’s so we left. The museum might have been fascinating (she promised steam engines) but food was more important right now. Just up the road, we found a little pizza place serving pizza from noon. It was 1:30pm so I ordered one. The server went away, came back, and said the oven wasn’t ready. That little bottle of OJ saved me from fainting and we headed along and saw a main road and…Tesco!!  Lifesaver. I got a pork pie and some Maltesers and had two bites of the pie, determined to feel human again and ready to explore some more.

There was the River Don. And an obelisk with mill stones stuffed with rubbish. Oh dear. Then we saw a building with a piece of art from Phlegm, Sheffield’s most known artist, and when we went around to the front it was a German pub. We went in and shared a ridiculous plate of thick schnitzel, bratwurst and some pickles and fries. Not the best,  but at least edible and between us we were full and ready to go.


We considered again going to The Cutlery Works but I couldn’t make sense of the map and now we’d already eaten. Which way should we go? Should we turn back? Could I manage more Kelham Island? In the end, we decided that we’d head back towards town and see what we could see along the way. We looked for a bus. Nothing in sight and so we walked towards some spires that we guessed were in town. Still no bus stop, although one or two wandered by without stopping anywhere. We found a good cut-through street that seemed to be a trendy oasis between two older areas and explored just a little more. At the end of the street we turned again and found some old factory buildings leading towards a main road.


Up and down (Sheffield is hilly) and then I asked a student, how do we get into town? If you go along this road all the way to the end, you’re in the centre. I want a bus, I said. No, she said. Maybe she was wrong. We saw a man on the street and asked again, Where’s a bus into town? You ARE in town.

Were we? Well, not that far from the centre, but my legs were done, and another but – NO BUSES. He’d pointed towards the same street the student had been on, so we went there. There was construction on the corner but then the street became very interesting.

It was a lovely street to walk along. More repurposed old buildings dating from 1700 and some very old municipal buildings. Krish wandered up a hill I didn’t dare climb and saw a synagogue turned into flats so I missed that, but he sent me a photo so I could see it too and I’ve included it here.  I took more photographs, rested a little on some steps outside an office building, and told myself that my knees might hurt but I’d never have discovered this had we found a bus. It helped…sort of.


I suspected this area – called first Queen Street and then Bank Street – might have been the original municipal centre of town. I was right. It used to be the main business street.

We found our way to  a stop finally and got out where the trams are. They only go across town, three lines. We rode a few stops, then back five stops and I told Krish I’d find a bus to the hotel and he should explore alone.

It’s interesting finding your way around when you’re on your own. I wanted to find the same bus back to the hotel that had brought me this way, but I couldn’t see where it stopped. It seemed the way back wasn’t an exact version of the way here, but I followed the road around to where I assumed there would be buses going my way. There were, in fact, three bus stops with several routes at each. I took the first bus from the list that Google showed me. I think Google led me slightly astray!

The bus route showed me I was only three stops away. Funnily, the stop before mine was the Interchange near the station. When I got out, I felt confused. The name of the stop on the map was not the name of the stop in reality. I thought perhaps I’d made a mistake. I looked both ways and chose the most likely and peopled route – a pedestrian area with a lot of university student. I asked where Arundel Gate was. She repeated it with a different pronunciation – lesson learned. I was just half a block from the hotel and, as soon as she showed me the right way, I could see it ahead of me.


So it was a bit of an adventure finding my way from the destination stop to the hotel but I did it. Rest time.

All the Sheffield blog links:
Sheffield (part one) – A long-awaited exploration – Arriving
Sheffield (part two) – Kelham Island mostly
Sheffield (part three)- An evening out and the next morning – Leaving
Sheffield (part four) – All the street art

Sheffield (part one) – A long-awaited exploration – Arriving

Tuesday, 26 October, 2021

We hadn’t been away for ages and then suddenly there we were planning a trip. We thought Sheffield, Nottingham, and Leicester. Then we thought Sheffield, Leicester and Conventry. Eventually, it was Sheffield and Leicester – two places were enough. Why those? We’d heard a lot about gritty Sheffield with its old buildings, regeneration and street art – just our thing. As for Leicester, I wanted to revisit the Diwali lights and also see our friends, Avi and Farrah. We hadn’t seen them since their wedding in February 2019.

There had been the usual last-minute getting ready. I’d had Monday to get most things prepared but Krish usually  leaves it later, had been to the hospital, and just generally overdoes everything so Tuesday morning he was still doing. I made sandwiches and packed leftover quiche for the journey. Our plan was to get the bus by 8:30 to get to the station around 9:30 for our 10:01 departure.

At 8:30 i went to the bus stop alone, knowing I’d be slow and Krish  would catch me up. But four buses came and went and no Krish. I tried not to panic but a 9am bus would get us to St Pancras at maybe 9:50 with at least a 5 minute walk to the train and quite likely much longer… if any slow traffic at all we would miss our train. It wasn’t looking good. Krish showed up around 8:55 and I resigned myself to not making it really and staying as calm as I could. He’d thought the train was at 10:30… Never mind, I said, we’ll get to Sheffield somehow and what about the tube from Angel – just one stop. The bus was crawling so we figured out that it was also one stop from Highbury in the Victoria line. Those tunnels and escalators never seemed longer but at least I knew we could make it

First time on the tube since the pandemic. Eeek. Packed and not many masks. Grin and bear it… At St Pancras more tunnels, more escalators and then at the main station a long, long walk with confusion on where to get the train. The ticket office helped me out and there we were with a stunning twenty-minute wait!




It was an old train, not very clean, not very busy. And definitely not many masks. Even the ticket inspector wasn’t wearing one. There are four stops -Leicester, Derby, Chesterfield, Sheffield. I confess to not looking out of the window. I watched Last Christmas, or 3/4 of it – terrible. At Leicester someone got off and a woman  showed up with a cloth. A millisecond swipe at the table and off she went – wow!  At Chesterfield  went to the toilet, or tried to buy in the end there were three of us waiting and engaged engaged engaged. A young woman suggested people get in without a ticket, head to the toilet to evade inspection and no one can use it. But waiting there meant I could see the scenery. Green fields giving way to gorgeous old stone houses and scattered old row houses on narrow streets – I was in Yorkshire all right.



Sheffield station isn’t remarkable and there are no maps and no information booths. We headed outside with Krish asking me, which way –  I’d put him in charge of that since my map reading ability is poor at best and results in confusion all around. We found a map on a board and started walking. We passed some long sheds called interchanges.. People were sitting inside waiting for buses. Ahead was a huge multi-level car park and Krish told me there was a long walk around or we could climb the million steps and go through it. I resigned myself to the steps – maybe five flights on different levels … Gah…. But I did it. On the other side another map and we headed down the road. (Later we discovered that, had we turned the other way, we’d have been looking at our hotel not very far away. Live and learn!)

Water feature
If we’d walked left  along this long water wall, we’d have been just one street away from the Novotel. Instead we turned right from the wall
One of the long Interchange buildings near the station
One of the long Interchange buildings near the station

There were no road signs. Anywhere! Where the hell were we? (And still no toilet.)

I asked someone who  pointed in the direction we’d come from. Right then. Back we walked. Still no street signs. I asked again and was told,  keep walking, it’s just past The Crucible (which meant nothing to me). At a bus stop I asked again. Back there, pointing back the way we’d come, but Krish had gone ahead anyway and when I caught up with him, there it was. Yay.

The hotel was able to check us in early so I just rested. Impressions so far were of an old city with streets intercepted by city roundabouts. No building was extraordinary but it wasn’t grim and depressing, as Leeds had struck me…my only other Yorkshire encounter.

A little discussion later and we went in search of Brenda’s Fish and Chips. The receptionist gave me some simple directions (why won’t men ask for directions???? Sexist hat off.)

In this direction it’s much more modern, although the photos below won’t show that. Another roundabout and we started seeing modern Chinese cafés. Hmmm. Krish decided congee sounded nice so was perusing menus at some not so modern windows and I spotted Brenda’s. We got as far as the door and he called a halt. I don’t blame him really. The simple little shop had a bad smell, like old fat. The floor was listed with chips. Dirty and smelly, declared Krish, and quite honestly he was right. OK Anthony, I said – referencing Bourdain who’d declared such things were never a deterrent, that some of the best tasting things come from such places and maybe the dirt was a factor.

Instead we went for wonton noodle soup with Chinese doughnut. Both were really awful and we left most of it. On the map it was listed as a Sheffield Top-rated table. 






We headed towards the shopping area. Same as every UK city – an indoor mall beside a pedestrianised shopping street . At the end of it some more regeneration, some shameful facadism, and a fabulous derelict Salvation Army building. Then the town hall square, quite lovely I thought, punctuated with fairground rides and happy children (it was half term). The buildings are massive  and I can’t photograph them whole. i told Krish to go explore and I’d see him later. We walked by the town hall, then down through the fountained peace garden and sat for a while. Peaceful it was!


I walked down further and saw the Winter Garden and decided to visit. I don’t have enough patience to linger and read but it’s a gorgeous building with curved wooden arches – reminded me of the AGO (Art Gallery of Ontario) – and beams and it’s small enough. There were a few shops and an entrance to Millennium (Modern Art) Gallery – a good plan for Thursday before we leave – and I bought a hot chocolate (and Worcestershire sauce crisps and a Dandelion and Burdock for later). I sat quietly with my drink looking at all the greenery and out to the street.


Happily the Novotel backs onto the Winter Garden area. I easily got back, put on my nightie and lay down. No sleep but it was quiet and I enjoyed the break.

Krish sent some photos from the university campus across the main road from the hotel and eventually showed up. The plan to walk a little together and let him loose to cover as much ground as he likes worked out really well.

The next adventure – dinner. Krish had decided ages ago to go to the world buffet place. It’s right near the Winter Garden – easy. It was heaving when we got there. There was temperature taking in place but I’m not convinced. I had fun checking our temperatures, though, as we waited. No masks in sight. Delta what??? But we stayed having already determined that this was a crowd well used to elbowing their way around.

Elbowing yes. Crowding yes. Godawful buffet food yes! Friendly service, though. Free for all at the buffet stations, the usual amusingly heaped plates of terrible food passing by – more noodles, more chips, more terrible pizza slices, more mountains of fatty Chinese spare ribs, and made to order teppanyakis This is no Mandarin, no Country Harvest even…a food frenzy. People were crowding the plate trolleys, piling on the little cakes, lingering at the all you can drink fountains, kids playing with the ice machines – such a novelty. We ate some imagined decent choices, got our long awaited mini Yorkshire puddings (only sort of worth the wait) and left shameful amounts on our table for collection. And that was that done.

The best thing was watching others I suppose. Absolute gluttony, you know how it is. Like a cruise ship, k asked? No, I said. Well yes the gluttony but orderly more or less and five star cooking. Maybe four. this was one and a half. Almost a zero after I came close to wiping out when I stepped on a dropped cube of orange jelly.

The server told us this was a quiet night. Astounding stuff.

We went to the little Sainsbury’s next to the hotel and got water (it tasted awful from our tap) and OJ.  The rest of the evening was us trying not to fall asleep toooo early and just about lost for words.

Day one done.

All the Sheffield blog links:
Sheffield (part one) – A long-awaited exploration – Arriving
Sheffield (part two) – Kelham Island mostly
Sheffield (part three)- An evening out and the next morning – Leaving
Sheffield (part four) – All the street art

Moving – the new Whitechapel station and the Hackney Half marathon

Sunday, 26 September, 2021

Skipping over #blogsihaventgottoyet and onto the enjoyable events of a few days ago.

On Friday, I decided that I was finally going to Whitechapel Station – for some time it’s been under renovation in preparation for Crossrail, the Elizabeth Line. In 2016 they built a temporary entrance that was off the high street and over a narrow pedestrian bridge on Court Street. It made the station less attractive for me since this meant, as an overground rather than underground passenger, I had to walk quite a distance underground to find myself on the street or from the street back to my homeward train. The main entrance was blocked with hoarding and unavailable.

Crossrail construction itself has been going on since 2009. They hope to have the Elizabeth Line operating in the early months of 2022.

I heard only a couple of weeks ago that the station was almost complete and that you could now get in through the original entrance. I made a plan to check it out as soon as I could.

My route is an easy one. A short bus ride (for me as a non-walker, although it’s not very far away) to Dalston Junction overground station, then just four stops to Whitechapel – a journey of perhaps ten minutes. The train wasn’t crowded and I was entertained by a lady and her daughter, the latter who performed a great trick of hanging by her hands from two overhead straps for a while (I didn’t capture that one!). I felt a bit dreamy and at first got off at the wrong stop, confused by it looking familiar and not new at all. Back on the next train and on to Whitechapel.

Everything was shiny and new. It had the familiar overground vibe. Light, spacious, cathedral like but also like the turbine hall at the Tate (don’t know why I think so, but this just means it’s slightly cavernous for its purpose – but not overly so). I liked when I came up the stairs how there was a long semi-elliptical window at the top – on the left were some modern low rise flats and on the right the backs of the sooty old buildings that make up the storefronts of Whitechapel High Street. An interesting contrast, as usual.

There are a lot of entry/exit gates and a spacious ticket hall and then you’re out onto the high street. Happily, the original Victorian façade from 1876 has been cleaned and repaired rather than replaced. And for some reason I didn’t take  photo of that entrance so that will come later. I’ve also read that there’s a new exit on Durward Street, another thing to look for.

You exit to the bustling market which was called Whitechapel Waste when I was growing up. Out there, the vendors vended, the shoppers shopped, the walkers walked, as if nothing had changed – and it hasn’t really.  For now at least this part of Whitechapel is as it always was, changing only with the change of immigrants dominating the area. They bring in their own shops, clothing, food, and ambience. It’s busy but the Bangladeshi and Bengali people aren’t shouty like their Jewish and cockney predecessors.

Ambala for some samosas and one new sweet to try. I’ve forgotten its name. To Shalamar for three kebabs and one little lamb samosa for my lunch. To the Naanstop, ignoring the useless naan, for a masala chai and a salted caramel cheese in a little glass (expensive but I found that out only as he was ringing in the cost for me. Anyway, done. I walked over to the Royal London Hospital – the new complex of buildings – passing the old, boarded up buildings and the old churches and homes in the shadows of the tall new blocks. In front of one of the ophthalmology building is a statue which has been moved here from the older complex. There’s a seat built into its base on all four sides so I chose the empty one and sat down with my tea and two snacks. It was quiet back there away from the main road. It was also a sunny, pleasant day and I enjoyed the calmness of it all.

Inside Shalamar
Shalamar, where we buy our kebabs is very basic and is a great favourite with the Royal London Hospital workers, and with us – for their kebabs and unfussy service

Continue reading “Moving – the new Whitechapel station and the Hackney Half marathon”