Janice

22nd January 2023

How I ended up in Toronto

Thursday, 15 December, 2022

Once again I find myself having written dozens of blogs all in my own head. I can hardly believe that I’m sitting here actually typing…but I am. I had to check what I wrote in my last blog and at that time I was aware that I’d have to move but had no clue it would be such a monumental one.

My plan is to just keep blogging and I may skip around a bit while doing so. I don’t know. If I’d blogged all the way through this experience it would either have been therapeutic or mindblowingly depressing/confusing/traumatic – to me at least. What I envision is filling in events throughout rather than hitting anyone with too much pouring out of misery!

Somehow in most of crisis times I’ve not been able to write a thing. I find that intriguing. I’m a big believer in writing things down during difficult moments or times, but somehow during every major crisis of my life, I have become numb and unable to do this. So at least I can write about things after the fact and shorten the timeline enough to make it bearable.

Looking for a place in Hackney was tough. So many bad looking places, so many that were above our budget. I applied for some anyway but heard nothing back. Sometimes I felt I was close to seeing a place but then the trail went cold and I can only assume they were somehow snapped up directly. We did manage to see one but it wasn’t for us – it had a single counter open plan kitchen and was above a pub, which would have made it noisy.

We finally got an interview at another place. We played our hand when we saw it was quite nice compared to others. To avoid a long story, it became a nightmare of an application. We got the place (in theory) but the demands were overwhelming. We needed to bid over the stated price, we needed to pay a whole year’s rent, we needed to accept a lot of the current furniture, we had to jump through many hoops to satisfy the landlord’s wishes. It got more and more crazy and we couldn’t understand why, after paying so much more than the advertised price (and the amount we were comfortable paying) and promising a whole year’s rent, we were badgered for every sort of check possible.

In the end, we’d had enough. We had had thoughts of this being our last year in Hackney after which we would return to Toronto so I could be closer to Robin. All of these hoops for a year in a place we couldn’t really afford and didn’t love – it just didn’t feel worth it. So we made a decision to move our Toronto journey up a year.

For the next couple of months (or was it less) things couldn’t have been more difficult. Arranging shipping, packing for the day everything would leave, listing things for donation and sale, fielding the potential buyers, sending things off to new homes, taking things away to people by ourselves, all the admin work… Every day felt worse than the last, our stress level was crazy. What had seemed like a good decision suddenly felt like it was killing us. Krish questioned our sanity in returning to Toronto. Every day he was reading about all the reasons not to. I tried to buoy him while all the while questioning it too. I felt that one of us needed to stay resolute somehow and I seem to be better at that than he is. He’s the person who I say will have a one word epitaph – ‘OR‘.

We were up against a tight deadline – we had to leave our place, we had booked our plane ticket, our shipment date was looming. But finally, our stuff was shipped off. Our furniture and the belongings we didn’t need to hold onto were disappearing day by day. It felt good to know we weren’t going to be stuck with stuff but it also felt bad to know our Hackney life was dwindling.

We thought we could get out a bit to see the things we knew we’d miss but every time we did find a couple of hours to do it, it was mostly sadness I felt – a need to be out but at the same time a need to get back to the safety and comfort of home. I want to blog about these experiences and I hope I will – if I do, I’ll be skipping about in time. I’ll cross my fingers.

I may or may not blog about the agonies of the physical move, or I may allude to it here and there, but I do have photos…

Gathering things we definitely don’t need to hang on to

We decided that our red wall unit was the only thing we would keep from our furniture. And so began the laborious and inevitably nostalgic part of our packing

Our living room and kitchen became a war zone slash obstacle course for about a month. Sorting took forever – what to pack, what to give away, what to try to sell. We chose to ship our belongings and got our ‘plan’ in place – a piece of plastic that outlined the dimensions of our container. Krish planned and planned and then planned again, calculating over and over every day. His Tetris expert status was going to come in very handy, but the headache…

The daily shuffle of stuff. And Krish calculating, packing, taping…it went on for days and days and…

And then one day, the van arrived to pick it all up. Krish had staged it carefully and carried it downstairs to go out. The boxes began to leave our hallway, one by one, until they filled the container box. And then at the very end, there had been a half centimetre miscalculation and one slim box had to be sacrificed and brought back in to reconsider. (We unframed several pictures and mum’s needlepoint – the only heartbreak since it had been custom-framed and looked amazing – and mentally tagged them for carry-on baggage.

It was done. All ready for its ocean voyage. The driver was justifiably full of praise for how it all fit together. Tetris expert indeed!

When everything was gone, goods sold, stuff donated, friends happily (we hoped) taking leftover food and toiletries and bits and pieces of furniture, we were without a bed.

We slept two nights in the nearby KIP hotel. I liked that little black and white room over by the Narrow Way. Then we went back, finished our packing and cleaned up. The rooms were bare at last. We drank champagne and waited for the cab to take us to Gatwick for our final night in (sort of) London.

Our cases sitting in an empty flat. We had only the floor to sit on. It had been backbreaking work. But we were done.

The hotel room at Gatwick – we spent hours and hours working on our shipment forms for customs. It’s a miracle we didn’t kill each other really

We don’t like flying. We’d carefully chosen the cheapest day to get a premium economy on Air Transat. Such a good choice. We were comfortable, well taken of, fed and fed and served as much champagne as we could stand (that’s not much for me…) and there was very little turbulence. Krish rightly felt thoroughly spoiled right up till we landed.

Eventually I’ll have the time and energy to blog about our time here. I will at least catch up for now. It hasn’t been easy. In fact, it’s been a continuation of the nightmare that started in the UK. We’re going through a patch of calm at the moment and grateful for it. We miss Hackney and London very much, but most of all we miss our life which seems to have been lost, at least for now. Our only goal is to find it again no matter where we are.

Stick with me and see what happens. Just don’t get motion sick as I jump around in my timeline for the next little while.

12th August 2022

Catching up and matchstick girls – Bryant and May

Wednesday, 10 August, 2022

My friend Tari helps me with this blog. She has all the tech know-how I don’t. Thanks, Tari. The other day she messaged me, By the way, you had 279 unique visitors to your blog in July. What? If you are one of them, say hello in the comments. I have no idea who you are, where you live (does Tari?) but I’d be richer knowing. I also hope you like what you’re reading and, if not, let me know what I can do better. Blah blah.

We are looking for somewhere to live. I love moving – well, most of it. The part where you’re looking, though – this part – is horrendous, and right now so disheartening. Rents are high, places are often dire, and competition is stiff. Yet it has to happen. I worry all the time about where, when, and even if. As time goes by the what becomes less important, and yet it doesn’t. I know, no matter how desperate I may get, I can’t resign myself to some of the places I’ve seen that are on offer right now. Part of this is because…Hackney. It’s an area that’s being gentrified – everywhere you look there are scaffolds that tell you that someone else is gutting or improving their living spaces. It’s a double-edged sword. While places are improving, rents are screeching higher, and what passes for an open plan living room is really only a medium sized kitchen with a couch, coffee table and television thrown in for good measure. Couches are backed against ovens, no division, and you can only pray for enough counter space to actually prepare a meal. For a couple of foodies and spontaneous chefs like us, it’s not supportable. Where will we land? Stay tuned.

With the prospect of a move ahead, we’ve been determined to do a few things, even if we stayed local. This includes some restaurant visits. I’m getting lazy about reviews. I have a list of places I want to visit and revisit but the Bryant and May Factory (who manufactured matches, or lucifers as some of their publicity reads, in Bow from 1861 to 1979 when it moved to Liverpool) has been on my list for a very long time.

I’d read about the factory and the Matchgirls Strike several years ago. Bear in mind that this factory and the area is well known to me. It sits somewhere between my paternal grandmother, Sophie’s (and therefore my dad’s and my own childhood) home and my maternal grandmother, Charlotte/Lottie’s (and therefore my mum’s childhood) home. Both of these houses were pulled down many years ago now. The factory is still there.

I can’t really remember particularly noticing it when I was a child. I did, of course, but thought nothing of it. Just another factory, even if a massive one. It’s good to see it again as an adult – through older and more appreciative eyes. But what came first was the matchstick girls’ story. I’ll tell it in short form.

From the mid 1850s this was London’s largest factory, making candles, crinolines and rope. William Bryant and Francis May bought it in 1861 when it was in disrepair. In their match factory the workforce, mostly Irish women and girls, worked fourteen-hour days at poor pay and faced excessive fines for things such as going to the toilet without permission. They also faced a far more serious situation. The white phosphorous that the sticks were dipped in caused ‘phossy jaw.’ This was necrosis that destroyed the jaw, leading to other medical problems.

In the summer of 1888, middle-class activist Annie Besant and her friend Herbert Burrows got involved and exposed the factory conditions in their weekly paper. Management weren’t happy and tried to get their workforce to sign a paper saying it was untrue. They refused and one worker was fired, leading to the now-famous strike. 1,400 women and girls refused to work by the end of the first day. Management quickly said that they would take the fired woman back but the damage was done and the women began to demand more, including the withdrawal of the fining policy. Within a short while the whole factory had stopped work and a deputation of women went to see Annie Besant to ask her to help. She apparently advised them not to strike, but the women were determined and took their plight to parliament. Fearful of the publicity, management agreed to concessions, including a fairer grievance procedure and that meals would be taken away from where they could be contaminated by the dangerous phosphorus . The women’s actions led to the establishment of the first British trade union for women. Many feel that it was Annie Besant who was responsible for the success of this campaign, but she was rather the conduit through which these very brave women were able to get their voices and needs heard. They would have had very little power in their day. The Strike Committee: Mrs Mary Naulls, Mrs Mary Cummings, Sarah Chapman, Alice Francis, Kate Sclater, Mary Driscoll, Jane Wakeling, Eliza Martin…

You might enjoy the Matchgirls Memorial site, which includes a short video about the strike by a young American who was captured by the story and stories about the committee members from their descendents.

It wasn’t until 1901, after the Salvation Army opened its own match factory nearby using less toxic red phosphorus and paying better wages, that Bryant and May stopped using white phosphorous.

Some of the first welfare institutions in Britain for industrial workers began on this site and the factory finally closed in 1979, when it still employed 275 people. At its height more than 3,000 women and girls worked here. In 1988 the site was redeveloped, one of east London’s first urban renewal projects. It’s now a gated community of apartments. Most of them are in the former factory and office buildings dating from 1874. The beautiful Victorian cottages near the entrance were originally homes for the company directors. There are now modern buildings inside the gates. All of the buildings have American names: Arlington, Manhattan, Staten…

We were walking down to the back of the factory. The flats behind us were called Matchsticks Apartments

Colourful — I was struck by how modern and colourful this street was – we are heading towards the A12

Clayhall Tea House plaque — “On the front wall of 50 Blondin Street. In the 18th century, Londoners wanting to go for a jaunt into the country, often used to visit this tea house, which was situated to the east of the plaque. Some time before this, Samuel Pepys described in his diary how he visited Bow and had eaten a memorable dish of cherries and cream here.” (Into the country? Hard to imagine now.)

A12 — Who knows how many homes were destroyed to create this motorway? At first there were trees shielding against the sight and noise of it, then just a metal fence…

First glimpses — I had my first glimpses through the gate at the back, then there was a delivery area. Not much of a clue at this point what the whole would look like

Boundary moved plaque — It’s not clear why the boundary was moved at the back. There was a nice plaque that explained the strange ‘platform’ or curb that seemed without purpose. In this area all the lampposts were made to look like gaslights

It was a hot day, hotter than expected. We walked pretty slowly around from the back towards the side of the factory boundary. First we had to go under the railway bridge. It wasn’t very pretty. Underneath, the area was fenced off with signs of construction and new lampposts stacked up ready to be installed. I wondered if there’d be anything else there. Once you got past it and headed up towards the factory site, there were houses that must have been old but I’d never seen them before. They were completely out of old Bow character.

We were on Wrexham Road. The factory was to my right but you couldn’t see anything from this street. We walked up until we got to a low wall. From here I could see one turret from the original building, but also along the wall, some stone plaques. The wall seems to be much newer than the plaques.

I felt pretty excited to see the factory on Fairfield Road, but first we passed Bow Garage. It’s a huge hangar for London transport buses and, since it was daytime, there weren’t too many buses parked in there.

Houses opposite the garage — To understand this, you have to know that I grew up in a slum area in a ‘two up, two down’ (although it was actually more than two) terraced house where the door opened directly to the street. As a child I thought these houses were for rich people…

Finally, after going under the railway arch again, the red brick wall and buildings were in full sight. For more photos, you have to click More. Continue reading “Catching up and matchstick girls – Bryant and May”

27th June 2022

Bradford Day 3 – Media Museum and Goodbye to Bradford

Friday, 17 June, 2022

Friday was the hottest, and check-out, day.

We went down for breakfast. Carol welcomed us and then asked ‘Another fishy breakfast?’ She remembered everything we ate the day before and asked if we wanted the same. What a talent. Krish repeated his fish breakfast while i had a smaller version of a full English one and not longer afterwards wished I’d stuck with the haddock I’d had on Thursday. Too hot for meat!

We went up and packed everything. I suggested we might have a cool morning and go to the media museum that everyone raves about so we stored our luggage and walked over.

On the way we went into the Waterstones bookshop where i bought some cards. I’d read about it in my research. It’s been called the most beautiful bookshop in the world, and most certainly the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have left this till the last day because I could have spent much more time here. The bookshop is inside The Wool Exchange Building, a grade I-listed building built as a wool-trading centre in the 19th century (1864-1867). It is likely the most significant building in Bradford. From the outside you’re not so aware what awaits you inside. The Wool Exchange is a lovely enough building, with lots of elaborate stonework, turrets and a great clock tower, but along the side on Hustlergate, Waterstones entrance is on a very modern glass wall. Once inside, it’s a different story. It feels like you are inside a beautiful old chapel. Leaving it to the last day also meant that I was hurrying a bit and only now see how, if I’d sat upstairs in their cafe, I’d have had a better view of the whole shop.

(Pictured before) Krish peering into Waterstones through its modern glass wall entrance

On our way over to the Science and Media Museum I thought it would be good to pop into Sunbridge Wells, which is an underground retail complex with Victorian style units running the length of the tunnels. We didn’t make it – we got a bit confused by where it was, then deterred by Krish’s dislike of anything remotely cellar or cave-ish. On these short visits, and with my limits on walking and climbing, there will always be things we don’t see. It’s hard to not regret this. However, we did see some interesting things. Over near the chip shop there was loud Indian music. When I traced the source it seemed to be coming from a balcony at the top of a lovely red brick corner building. Each time we’d passed here, the music was playing. The square below had benches and had they not been some sort of convention spot for people to lay around on, I’d have sat a while listening to the music and admiring the building.

The building opposite isn't bad either — The Grade II building opposite isn’t bad either. Prudential Assurance, 1895. The only major *building* in *Bradford* to be built of red brick and terracotta.

We also had to pass the town hall again. It has a really large square, Centenary Square and City Park, in front that has a huge mirror pool with 100 fountains. When we walked through there was no water – that might have been nice though, like running through the sprinklers. Bradford City Hall was opened in 1873. The building was designed in the Venetian style. The bell tower was inspired by Palazzo Vecchio in Florence and houses 13 bells.

Near the town hall is the opulent looking Alhambra Theatre. This is where we would have eaten had there been a performance day while we were there. The restaurant has British food and a great view of the city, they say. The theatre is an interesting looking one, rather like a Brighton building. In 1964, and in 1974, it was designated a Grade II listed building. It underwent extensive refurbishment in 1986 and seats 1,456. Too bad we didn’t go in. Near the theatre, the streets are anything than opulent. There’s a lot redevelopment needed around there.

The museum is just beyond the town hall next to an Ice Skating building. It’s across a major road with traffic to and from Leeds. Things really open up around here and there are nice views.

The museum itself is in a modern building. It opened in 1983 as the National Museum of Photography, Film and Television. There are five floors of exhibits and there are cinemas, one being the first IMAX theatre in Europe. Today two of the floors were closed, getting ready for new exhibits. We wandered around and I have mixed feelings about this place, bearing in mind that we probably lost out on seeing some good stuff on those closed floors. Some of it was very interesting but other bits felt dated and amateur – the TV area especially. There was a videogame section I’d love to have looked at but mostly I saw arcade machines and an extra entry price. Some of the things we saw:

In the science section, they had a mirror maze. I thought it might trigger my vertigo but Krish had a go. Was fun watching him trying to figure out where he was and which way to turn

A lovely statue of JB Priestley outside the museum

Near the museum — An interesting schematic map near the museum

We wanted to have some lunch before the train and eventually settled on a place in The Broadway that did grilled chicken and burgers. I had a chicken on a naan thing and Krish a burger. To be honest, this fast food option was the best thing we ate the entire time – something to think about for the future. Fast food is not always such a bad idea!

Krish walked to the hotel for our case while I walked to the station. On the way I passed Bradford Hotel and St George’s Hall, the buildings that had welcomed us when we first arrived. St George’s Hall opened in 1853 as a stunning Victorian Concert Hall, renovated in 2016. A huge building!

I waited for Krish on the street level and started to feel anxious ten minutes before our train time. He showed up with about four minutes to spare. We hurried up to the platform to find our train. No one had got in yet and then a station worker came over to tell us it was cancelled. Not only was it not going anywhere, but there were no trains to London for the rest of the day. We could instead use our tickets to get on a train to Leeds and then from there another train, leaving in an hour, would honour our tickets and get us to London. No choice then. We got on the train for the short journey to Leeds, then found our platform for the next leg. Although this was all a bit annoying, in the end it worked out OK. The Leeds to London train was an hour faster and not crowded since the train had put on extra carriages for those of us who had been stuck in Bradford. The only drawback was that I lost my first class carriage that I’d bid for back in Bradford. The train journey was easier than the original, though, since we had only three stops instead of the eight with the other train line.

At Kings Cross there was the usual culture shock of arriving back in busy London. We let one bus pass us and then got in the next and off to home again! Bradford crossed off our list.

A post script – I hadn’t been keen on Bradford, even while I was there. Thinking back and gathering the photos gives me a chance to reflect on it all. It was a very interesting place and there are things I didn’t see that I would like to see again. Perhaps a combined visit with Leeds could work. I’d go to the Peace Museum if it were open, and the Industrial Museum, and I’d definitely see Sunbridge Wells and the village of Saltaire. I’d even go to the Indian restaurant I’d never reached .

Bradford is Beautiful poster — Is it? Not at first glance but look more closely

The origin of Bradford — This plaque was embedded in the ground near The Broadway

25th June 2022

Bradford 2 – Bradford Cathedral, Little Germany and curry

Thursday, 16 June, 2022

Thursday the heat began. Ouch. it was really REALLY hard going for me. But first – breakfast. This was the first time we’d booked a hotel that included breakfast and Krish wrinkled his nose at the prospect. It used to be a big deal to get a hotel breakfast but, since the pandemic, they have mostly regressed to nothing better than hospital cafeteria style – with steam tables full of questionable quality and predictable British favourites. Luckily for us, the Midland had a ‘nice’ breakfast with juices, fruit, some cheese, yogurts and various spreads, then a menu of cooked to order food. The first day I had haddock with a poached egg, and Krish had a kipper with his poached egg. This was the type of light breakfast I love. The dining room was large with only a couple of tables being used by guests and it was all presided over by Carol, the best hostess we have ever had. Carol was probably in her 60s, and had her grey-blonde hair up in a bun. She wore a loose fitting black dress with a slit at the bottom hem that revealed a white slip. She walked with a heavy limp but managed the walking back and forth quite well. The Queen of the dining room!

The only hotel room photo I took – a messy one. Who else always thinks they’ll unpack everything and make it nice but lives out of the suitcase?

From the hotel window – the nicest view we’ve had for ages. Overlooking the back of The Broadway and, just beyond that, the cathedral

Looking towards the 'cold' food — Looking towards the ‘cold’ food

We had a plan and it included me taking buses if I needed to – I had a freebus pass after all – but it didn’t come to that.

We left the hotel and went through the nearby cathedral grounds. I popped into the quite lovely and very quiet and cool cathedral. The site of the cathedral has been used for Christian worship at least since 627AD. By 1327 there was a stone church here, some of the older masonry may have been used in the reconstruction of the Nave. The oldest parts of the present building, the nave arcades. were completed in 1458. The Tower was added to the West end and finished in 1508. The newest parts were completed in 1963. I thought the largest stained glass window quite spectacular but the light behind it created a rather disappointing photo (the third one).

When I came out I found Krish had left (ugh). He sent me a text that he’d left. not having heard that I was going into the cathedral, and was in Little Germany (German Quarter he said) which was next on our list. It’s right next to the cathedral so a very short walk. Little Germany was home to the German merchants, many Jewish, who came to Bradford in the late 1850s for the prosperous textile industry. Little Germany itself is also protected as a Conservation Area. Of the collection of 85 buildings constructed between 1855 and 1890, 55 are listed. Most of the buildings were constructed for the use of textile businesses, including imposing warehouses/

I started up the steep hill. There was a bunch of the area I didn’t see – just too much of a steep hike on a hot day. At first I was a bit disappointed by the area – I’d read so much – but after a while, started noticing all the architectural detail and then I enjoyed it.

Contoured dopr — First time I’ve seen a contoured door

Back near the intersection with the main road bordering little Germany is The Bradford Playhouse which seats 266 people and was founded back in 1929. It was called The Priestley for while, after Bradford son J. B. Priestley who was its president. He wrote of the theatre, “it is a genuine popular movement, not something fostered by a few rich cranks.” To bolster this sentiment of being independent and ordinary hardworking people, at the back is a mural that commemorates the centenary of the founding of the Independent Labour Party in Bradford in 1893.

Which once was a stark warehouse and business district is now a neat and impressive neighbourhood of imposing buildings, peppered with art. The most famous of these is a portrait of David Hockney (one of Bradford’s most famous sons) in nails. Yes, the kind you hammer. The sculpture is 16ft high, 12ft wide, and weighs almost three-quarters of a ton, consisting of 12 panels. The 250,000 nails that make up the artist’s portrait were hammered into a base of lacquered marine plywood and fixed onto the wall.

We left Little Germany in search of lunch. Just beyond lay a road considered to be a good source of local (probably curry) restaurants, but when we got there it was a major road with lots of traffic. It was after noon now and the sun felt relentless. It was getting harder to find shade and I decided to veto the journey when we figured out how far we’d have to walk to find a bus. Instead we turned about and walked towards the city centre. There was a street near the hotel called North Parade and we’d read that it had a good collection of independent cafes and bars. It was on our list, we were hungry and thirsty so off we went.

We went around the back way this time, passing the older entrance to the Kala Sangam (the South Asian community arts centre) which is in front of the cathedral. I rested in the cathedral grounds for a while. Then at the very back of the hotel was a large vaulted area leading along Forster Square Station. We hoped there was a way out from here and luckily there was.

Continue reading “Bradford 2 – Bradford Cathedral, Little Germany and curry”

24th June 2022

Bradford Day 1 – Arriving and Yorkshire Puddings

Wednesday, 16th June, 2022

I had left packing until the morning we left for Bradford. My packing phobia – what if I forget something? what if my packing takes forever and I miss the train? – is tempered by my eventual realisation that, as long as I had my medications, my phone, and my bank cards, I was going to be fine.

It was Krish who had decided on Bradford. Hard to say why really, and backed up by the number of people who, when I mentioned I was going to Bradford answered with ‘Why?’ or ‘Bradford? Well, I’m game for anything and anywhere really. Nothing to lose.

We’d been watching the weather forecast – rain, then no rain, then cool, then very warm. My preferred weather when going anywhere to explore is 15-21C, not windy, a few light showers OK. We were in for 23C on average. I anticipated lots of rest in between short excursions.

Traffic was crawling as we left Dalston and we decided to get on the tube for the rest of the journey – just one stop. This got us to Kings Cross with about 40 minutes to spare. I spent some time trying to upgrade our journey but the bidding was too high. Our train was at the very far end of the station but we got our seat and were on our way. A three-hour, easy journey with some brunch along the way.

Crowded tube — The tube was busy and we were the lone mask wearers

Busy Kings Cross — Kings Cross was busy. I hoped not too many of these would be on OUR train

Waiting at Kings Cross – the platform is sometimes announced very close to departure time, then it’s a rush!

Inside train carriage — Here we go again! We’re on our way

Quality Street poster — A promising sign – Quality Street is made in Bradford

Arriving at Bradford Station — And we arrived a minute or two early to a station that reminded me of Southend

I liked Bradford at first glance. It was more wide open than I’d expected and some of the architecture was quite arresting. It was an easy 10 or 15 minute walk to the hotel too, although the last bit was uphill for a short distance. We checked in, were told that we had to pay extra since I’d booked for only one. I was sure they were wrong but later on discovered they were right – oops. The hotel was a grand one and quite old. It felt official. When we got off the elevator, it took a while to get my bearings. Which way? I had to find a cleaner and ask where to go – ah, I see. But when we walked in we were in a small room with twin beds. Nothing to do but go back down to reception and get a new room and new keys. The ‘right’ room was large and very brown as usual (can the hotels please leave the 70s) with a king bed, bath and walk-in shower as requested. And no fridge. Damn – there go plans to have some food and real milk for tea available.

Henry Irving plaque — One of the strangest hotel plaques I’ve ever seen. Very encouraging!

We rested for just a short while and then wandered around the city centre. There was almost no one around and it was rough – lots of closed shops, lots of aimless and homeless people, indoor markets that had seen better days and no sign of anywhere promising for dinner. The markets were full of Indian places serving deep fried snacks and small crowds sitting together eating.

Bradford - wool city — I loved this needle and thread structure , which -reflects Bradford’s past as a major woollen textile producing city. Near the hotel and opposite Forster Square Station

Fascinating building — I was really attracted to this building, which was smothered with all sorts of signs and advertising posters. The busiest shop exterior I’ve ever seen!

Solly's Fruit and Veg — An interesting sight. In a city populated by many Asians today, there’s Solly’s – a reminder of a Jewish immigrant past, in Oestler Market

Here and there remnants of Eid — Some streets still had Eid lights. I was hoping they’d be switched on at night, but they’re waiting for next year…

Bradford has bid for and won city of culture for 2025 and remarked that they had a LONG way to go. I asked Krish where he thought the regeneration might be happening and then we saw where it would be – right next to a market, with hoarding all around….excavating – for something tall, I’m sure. This will be weird for the city, which is stuffed with very old (many, many listed) buildings housing pubs and nail bars and the like. We walked around a few blocks, managed some steep hilly streets, and took in the chaos. ‘It’s beat up and run down,’ I told Krish. He said ‘that’s the same thing’ but I don’t think so.

This isn’t the day we’d go in, but the Wool Exchange is an amazing building – the exterior is soiled but you can’t help noticing all the beautiful detail.

As you leave the Wool Exchange, and before you get to the Midland Hotel, there’s a brand new mall, The Broadway. We picked up a snack and some water and on up the hill to our room.

Now, my first mention of food. Bradford is known as the curry capital of the UK. It has a huge Asian population. How many Asian restaurants would you think there were? Two hundred! That’s what they say. So much curry that, when Krish and I did our usual ‘where to eat’ research, we couldn’t really see anything other than curry. There were a few pubs, some also serving curry, a bunch of burger places, some kebab shops, a couple of fish and chip cafes…one restaurant looked promising – the 1914 in the Alhambra theatre, but sadly it opened only during performances and we’d hit a period where nothing was playing. We did searches for Best Places to Eat in Bradford and Google was great at coming up with places…in Leeds. We were determined to not let this get to us and for the first night we’d 90% decided that we’d go to a nearby pub and have their Giant Yorkshires.

The menu read ‘A giant yorkshire pudding filled with your choice of filling from below, served with rich and tasty home made gravy.’ and below that – Yorkshire Burritos ‘Wonderful home cooked fillings wrapped in a light fluffy giant yorkshire pudding, served with rich and tasty home made gravy.’ We’d been to Yorkshire a couple of times and not been able to find a menu with Yorkshire pudding (very odd) so this is where we had to go.

Shoulder of Mutton — If they’d had food here, we would have gone. It looked so charming.

The City Vaults was once an old (Lloyds) bank built in 1880. This is a grade II listed building on a street intriguingly named Hustlergate. (Hustlergate is named for wool merchant John Hustler (1715-1790) a man credited with turning Bradford from a village into a city, a city which was to become the world centre of the wool textile industry because of his work.

We were an oddity in that pub, which was filled with half-drunken people who seemed at loose ends, many sitting alone. We shared a giant Yorkshire filled with a vinegary (was it red wine?) stew, and a Yorkshire burrito – a YP wrapped around pulled pork, stuffing and apple, accompanied with a large gravy boat. This was a heavy meal really so we didn’t try to eat it all but we’d done it – had a Yorkshire pudding in Yorkshire!

‘Home to bed’ and to ponder the obvious question. Is a Yorkshire pudding done better in Yorkshire? The answer – NO!