It just keeps raining! On Monday, Shanaz asked me if I could accompany her to a home visit for a new Bump Buddy mentee. Off I went, although not smoothly since the bus countdown app announced my bus was going to be 18 minutes late. But, of course, it did come eventually and I switched to another bus to cut the last bit of my journey down. Shanaz met me at my bus stop to tell me that, just ten minutes earlier, the person had cancelled. So instead we had tea.
I was supposed to meet Lisa after our meeting so I called and moved our meeting earlier. Lisa said she’d pick me up from in front of Whole Foods.
I haven’t walked on Stoke Newington Church Street for a little while. The rain was relentless but I just walked slowly, taking photos anyway before arriving at Whole Foods.
Stoke Newington iconic ‘fruit and veg’ shopThe florist is amazing but I was across the street unwilling to break my rainy journeyA rather nice ghost sign above Anglo Spice Grill, the oldest Indian restaurant in Stoke Newington. I always wonder what the sign was forApproaching the Abney Park wall – the building on the right must have some historyMother Kelly’s is a bottle shop – wine refillsThe best ghost sign in the area – WALKER BROS, FOUNT PEN SPECIALIST. Must check on thisThe usual alleyways off the main streetViolins & cellos for sale, repairs: London: Bridgewood & Neitzert – since 1982Mews cottages behind a gateKing of the MewsA glimpse of homes off Church Street – trendy bakery on the corner
More historical research must be done!The new church of St Mary’s cost £17,000 to build in 1852. “Stoke Newington is a funny place with lots of funny people, Thomas Jackson built a church but could not build a steeple.” The spire was added in 1890. The old church still stands opposite.
Obviously, there’s much to learn on Stoke Newington Church Street so perhaps I need to check if there’s a tour going. It seems with every little area, the history is so dense that it would take several lifetimes to uncover it all.
Meanwhile, here are two lovely old Bethnal Green pubs, seen on another walk.
Originally the White Hart, The Star of Bethnal Green dates from at least 1810The Grade II listed Salmon & Ball proudly adorns a sign saying, ‘est. 1733’. It has a mysterious and macabre history
We decided to go to Hackney Wick to see how things were progressing there. Hackney Wick is an artist’s community, with an overground station, near the Olympic Park at Stratford. It’s always been a mass of old buildings, factories, industrial parks, and warehouses and over time the artists and visitors have littered every wall, every door with art.
At one time, the art was glorious. Those days seem to be gone. A new entrance to the overground station has changed the orientation of the area and it confuses me. In the process of the change – where homes and factories have been torn down, the art has been sacrificed. As well, the old station entrance, which was always a bit of a dump, hasn’t been torn down yet. The day we arrived, we saw that several of the new buildings had been completed, the fancy office buildings, the luxury flats with names that were supposed to recall the area’s heritage – The Bagel Factory, Stonemasons Yard, Ceramic Works – they’re highly priced in this obviously deprived area. I wondered how many would just be owned rather than lived in. It made me that familiar mixture of curious, excited and sad to think about it and we cut our walk short since Krish was now motivated by the nearby Well Street Fish and Chips.
A rather ghostly and scribble-littered Hackney Wick – The new, the old, and the very quietA car crash in Hackney Wick near the estate. I didn’t photograph the onlookers. Notice more construction
A visit to the little Tesco and another to Lidl, then on to Vietnamese Supermarket.
We’d passed Lennox House on Cresset Road, approaching Well Street. The architectural notes read ‘These flats were built in 1936-7 to the designs of J E M MacGregor for Bethnal Green and East London Housing Association. There are 35 flats. The three bedroom flats were on the first floor, one bedroom flats on the top floor and two bedroom flats on the other levels. The original idea was that the central portion of the building beneath the stepped flats should be used as a covered market. The income from this would be used to subsidise the rents of the flats above. However, during the building period, land in the area was designated for residential use only. The Housing Association was also committed to providing a garden for each flat (apart from those on the ground floor).’ We noticed local brewery barrels on the main floor – did they brew in here, or just store the barrels? I think just store.
Lennox House, by Well Street, is a fantastic buildingThese balconies seem well-suited to creating the towering gardens we saw in Turin and MilanThe original plaqueBarrels from the 40ft brewery- a Dalston success storyAt the bottom of Cresset Road, Well Street is under construction – how long till this gentrifies completely?
And then, on the bus home, I discovered I didn’t have my bus pass. I looked through my entire bag and checked all my pockets. It was gone. The pass office told me that it would cost £12 to replace it but that my renewal was due to be sent out. I decided to wait and pay full price until it arrived.
I was going alone to see A Passage to India at the Tower Theatre that night so I left early and visited Lidl and the Vietnamese supermarket first – no pass had been found. I phoned the Tesco and the fish and chip shop – no pass. I was scuttled.
The play was very good. I’d seen the Masterpiece Theatre series years ago. My memory of it was nothing like the play I saw. I enjoyed the fact actual Indian actors were playing those roles. I felt that British imperialism was probably fairly represented too. The xenophobia, the bigotry, the superior attitude, the refusal to accept something different by considering it unclean, barbaric. un-Christian so heathen…and the fear. Each side underestimated the other really. And at the end the anger was real.
One day I will be tired of Brick Lane. Not yet, though.
On Friday, 31st January, we thought of walking down Hackney Road that day, taking the bus from Pembury Circus and wandering down – our eventual destination the cash and carry Bangla Town by Hanbury Street. From the bus, though, we noticed so much construction that the street suddenly seemed less walkable. It wasn’t roadworks but a number of new building sites in various stages of construction. What this means is the street art and curious buildings were disappearing.
So we stayed on the bus to Columbia Road.
New construction along Hackney RoadSome parts of Hackney Road are unchangedColumbia Road at Hackney Road
Perhaps another day I’ll brave Hackney Road again and see what’s left. That day opened my eyes to the increasing disappearance of the old, a microcosm – or not so micro – of London itself.
From Hackney Road we decided to walk over to Brick Lane by the back streets, taking note of all the changes and contrasts along the way.
New and old face each other in the Shoreditch back streetsQuiet Shoreditch is close enough to the bustle
From here, it was a less familiar view of Boundary Estate, from its easterly edge. Built as the nineteenth century merged into the twentieth, it’s stayed the same in appearance but not in its culture.
Boundary Estate is instantly recognisable – with its red brickStill Boundary Estate – looking towards Arnold Circus
Once past Boundary estate, it’s time to head over to Brick Lane. The streets here are mostly unchanged but there are signs of the future – construction sites and hoardings – and shops at the top, quiet, end of Brick Lane before you hit Bethnal Green Road are getting smarter. The hipsters are very firmly in place. How will it all look in ten, or even five, years?
Rhoda Street will be next to regenerateClose up of street art on Rhoda StreetThe lesser known top end of Brick Lane – very quietModern Bethnal Green Road at Brick LaneWay too busy at Brick Lane Beigel – the salt bagels were selling outFrom Brick Lane, regeneration is so closeOff Brick Lane
I may have said before that I’ve noticed a new phenomenon at Brick Lane. In most cities I’m familiar with, the ethnic ghettos are expanding. When I lived in North Beach, San Francisco, Chinatown was a short walk away. In more recent visits to North Beach, Chinatown has crept into its streets. In Toronto, Little India has started to creep along Gerrard Street so that you no longer have to go into its centre to find Indian culture. Brick Lane is changing in a different way – instead of exploding, it’s imploding. More and more non-Indian cafes and shops are opening, mingling with the Bengali and Bangladeshi businesses and threatening to overtake them.
What will happen next? When will the current residents move on, as the Huguenot, and then the Jewish immigrants have done? Where will they go? And will they be pushed out, priced out, or will they too climb out? Meanwhile, there’s still time to look around.
Cake on Brick Lane – encroaching on the curry houses todaySclater Street – demolition and hopeOne of Dan Kitchener’s geishas on Brick Lane – agingSticker art on Brick Lane
I had a plan for Tuesday. I had a doctor appointment and then five hours to spare. I wanted to go to one of the restaurants on my list – I thought perhaps Gloria, which is supposed to be a flamboyant Italian place, and from there on to Brick Lane to take some photos of new street art followed by picking up food for dinner – Krish’s favourite things. It didn’t go quite as expected.
After the doctor I jumped on the first bus that came along and then jumped off to get one that would take me where I needed to go. I chose the wrong second bus. One of these days I’ll get it right but I chose the one that turns off the main road and travels on other roads. All wasn’t lost. I jumped on a third bus and then off again when I thought I was close to where I needed to go.
No clue where I was. These new buildings are anonymous and hide the landmarks
Except I had no idea where I was. Heading down a side street to rescue my mission, nothing looked familiar. After a couple of turns, and no idea which direction I was travelling in – there have been times in London where I actually ended up back where I started, just one wrong turn. Never mind, Google would help me out.
Hey Google, I’m lost.
Uh oh. May I give you directions.
Where is Shoreditch High Street.
Turn left onto X street.
Google, there’s no X street, only Y street.
I’m sorry, I can’t help with that.
Hey Google, direct me to Rosa’s Thai Cafe.
Beginning directions to Rosey Cafe.
No, Google – (more carefully) Rosa’s Thai Cafe
Turn left onto A Street
Google, A Street isn’t here. I see B Street.
I’m sorry, I can’t help with that.
Ugh.
Oh just shut up, Google.
I resorted to old style ‘I’m lost,’ I told an older lady about to cross the street. ‘OK, where would you like to go?’ ‘Shoreditch High Street.’ ‘I don’t know…’ ‘Oh, OK, thank you.’ ‘But if you walk down there I think there’s a main road.’
I went ‘down there’ and thank goodness, Shoreditch High Street – only two short blocks away. How did she not know? I turned down Folgate Street, shocked at how much had been done since my Christmas visit, then across Commercial Street to find Rosa’s.
The top of Hanbury StreetInside Rosa’s
It wasn’t too packed and I got a seat easily. The menu didn’t grab me and I’m not a fan of red or green Thai curry but I was hungry and tired so I thought I’d try their pad thai. It was something I knew so could measure it against the others. Quite honestly, I didn’t like it. The noodles were too soft, the chicken had a stewed texture, and the flavour was very sweet. I remembered on Nadiya’s show how she’d been shocked at the sweetness of Thai food. So perhaps it’s ‘authentic.’ And no chopsticks! Only a fork and spoon. I managed the noodles, left a lot of the chicken and I was done.
It feels very strange to type 2020. I hadn’t thought of that before. Am I supposed to make resolutions for the whole decade? I really should. So far my only resolution for the year is to eat at one restaurant on my list every week. In fact, that wouldn’t take too many weeks so definitely doable.
I’d like to be less lazy, waste less time, do more – more of all sorts of things. So far so bad, though. There’s still time, right? Ten years less seven days, anyway.
On the third, I had tickets to go see a children’s version of The Nutcracker at Sadler’s Wells’ Lillian Baylis theatre. I love these shorter version of classic ballets. They’re perfect for my short attention span. First I took the bus to Islington Green at Angel to have a bit of lunch.
Walking along Upper StreetI went to Kanada-Ya and had an OK tonkotsu ramenAfter lunch I walked along Camden Passage before getting my next busJapanese tea room – and the air smelled amazing from the Penhaligon shopIt’s a short bus ride from Angel to Sadler’s Wells
Juliet was going to bring her grandson but there was a last minute switch and instead we were taking her granddaughter, Dessi. Dessi was very excited and told me that she’d seen the ballet before, the CBeebies version. With Juliet on the aisle seat, me in the next, and Dessi closest to the centre, we sat and waited.
Even the short ballet version felt long at times. Dessi kept me entertained. After only a couple of minutes she announced I want to be a ballerina just like they are. I thought how lovely it was to be so inspired. When one of the dancers appeared onstage, she announced loudly – the lone voice above the iconic music – It’s the Sugar Plum Fairy, and after a few rapt minutes I love the Sugar Plum Fairy. She then loudly whispered to us, When I go back to your house, grandma, I’m going to dance all the way there. There were six ballerinas sharing roles on stage. Four were slender, two were sturdy. I noticed, just like last year, how lightly they landed with each leap and step. At the end of the show, all children are invited to come down to the stage to take photos with the dancers.
Dessi and I raced down to get there, only to find out that we had come down the wrong way. Up we went again and all the way to the back of the queue.
Anticipation while we waited – Dessi told me she wanted to dance on the stage
Everybody was moving slowly, parents were hogging the spotlight for their children – none of this surprising – and then suddenly with only half the children having moved down to the stage, we seemed to moving extra quickly.
Dessi had told me that she wanted to dance with them on stage so when she stood there, I reminded her and she held her arms above her head, all the dancers following her lead.
Finally, it was Dessi’s turn – I was too blind to notice the green light on her faceI reminded Dessi to pose and the dancers all copied herDessi glanced around to see that they were all posing with herA delighted girl leaves the stage
