I was born into what was really a slum in the east end of London. The house, on Lessada Street (now covered by a park) was one of several terraced houses that ran down each side. At the end of the street were prefabs (prefabricated buildings meant to be temporary) and I assume built over age- or bomb-damaged other houses. The house was simple, three rooms downstairs plus a tiny step-down scullery, three rooms upstairs. Downstairs in the scullery was a sink with cold running water, upstairs there was no plumbing so water had to be carried up to the makeshift kitchen on the landing. Every room had a fireplace for burning coal. The toilet was attached to the house in the back yard.
Droopy drawers on Lessada Street
At the end of the row of houses where Lessada Street hit Roman Road, was a large bombsite, where we played and discovered artifacts (and once a dead cat…etched in my memory!).
Enough about my childhood home for now but it forms the basis of why I have always felt comfortable in areas others think of as dirty, derelict, crowded or rundown. That’s how I also fell in love with Liverpool, back in 1964 when the city was so ravaged.
When I tell people I’m going to Scotland, their eyes light up. They imagine glens, highlands, heather and country dancing. When I tell them I’m going to Glasgow, their first reaction is puzzlement, their second is to ask ‘Not Edinburgh?’ (the prettier of the two cities). No, Glasgow! It’s more urban and far more gritty than its pretty near-neighbour to the Southeast.
At first glance, the buildings of central Glasgow are often dirty and grim. I look beyond this and see the beautiful carving and structure. On my first visit I stared at one structure and said, ‘If this were in Europe, people would marvel. In Scotland it’s considered ugly.’ In fact, while I haven’t researched this as much as I could, the Italian influence in Glasgow architecture is everywhere. Sometimes I imagine myself in Florence or Rome.
Near the highway, on one side is a Westminster style, while on the other a very Italian looking towerI could be in Torino as I walk towards this archIn the gritty east end, this rooftop detailNo mistake here. It’s the Italy centre. Very Torino!The Lighthouse Water Tower by Charles Rennie Mackintosh – through the glass atrium
One of my favourite places, which also evokes Italy, is the Princes Square shopping centre. There are a few very modern shopping malls. True to nature, I photographed none of those! However Princes Square is an amazing building. There’s a fantastic metal structure on the inside, a great esclator entrance, and the most beautiful interior with small boutiques and airy restaurants that spill onto the landing.
I shouldn’t find it so hard to write about Toronto. I know it very well, even as it changes. Perhaps it’s the familiarity that stops me in my tracks.
But what is different…in Toronto?
So I’ve been lazy about blogging and perhaps the plan needs to be to see things differently. There’s always something new and interesting everywhere…if you look for it. I’ll do some catch ups with photos for a while until I get into the groove. There’s likely more to say than I imagine.
It’s a different look around here. The streets have smaller trees but during May, after a hard winter, the rain comes and the sun shines, and things get very lush and fairly wild. This to me is what Toronto in May is. I’m not sure how different this is from anywhere else but it’s certainly not Hackney.
The architecture in Little Italy and Little Portugal is…well…quaint! It veers between hideous, garish, practical, and pretty. I remarked it’s like a mini Garden District at times….all the verandahs and gingerbreading…the mix of styles could be disconcerting but it flies in the face of a city I’ve often called too homogeneous. What’s remarkable is how very close to the centre these streets are. Less than a couple of kilometres.
For me, nothing beats London for street art. Toronto likes a lot of script type art (Wikipedia reminds me that the writing style is the true graffiti and everything else is street art) but there are some gems if you keep looking.
There’s a huge foodie scene in Toronto but you have to know where to go. For me, it’s always the simple, hidden gems that I’ll come back for.
Very many years ago I got a temp job on Spadina Avenue at a tailoring factory. At lunch time, everyone stopped work and ate lunch on the factory floor. Someone gave me a taste of their sandwich (bun) one day, when I asked what they were eating. It was amazing. I thought about it for years but could never remember what it was or where to get it.
Then by accident, when my sister was living in Little Italy years later, she took me for a sandwich. And it was the same one! What was it? A ‘hot veal sandwich’ from San Francesco Foods, a tiny Italian grocery store that made sandwiches in the back room for the locals. A pounded veal cutlet is fried, dipped into tomato sauce with added peppers (as hot as you choose) and piled onto a Kaiser bun. And you have a Toronto institution. (You can also choose the eggplant, chicken, meatball, steak, or vegetarian options. For me, it’s always veal.
We once asked an Italian, my friend Esmeralda’s then boyfriend, if he’d ever heard of such a thing. He was horrified – that’s not Italian! No!  But In Toronto, that is Italian.
San Francescio has become a slicker chain and I don’t like their sandwich any more. So this time Krish and I went to nearby California Sandwiches and shared their monstrous sandwich between us. It’s always with a Brio, which is the Toronto version of Chinotto – slightly less bitter, more sweet, but perfect with a spicy meat sandwich.
Little Italy has that distinctive Canadian-Italian touch, with its own community. It even has its own radio station, which has its own enormous annual picnic. Johnny Lombardi was a pioneer of multicultural broadcasting in Canada and his shadow looms over everything. And it’s a great place for a time warp. Maybe more about that later.
Statue of Johnny Lombardi, pretty much the King of Little Italy, for so many years (Amusing touch from Krish in his hand)Time warp in Little Italy
Toronto now has a Toronto sign. Try getting anywhere close to it with all the tourists and photographers, though. It’s in front of New Toronto City Hall (the old one is beside it, across the road);.The new City Hall was built in 1965 and is iconic for the city – also appearing twice in the Star Trek franchise so you may recognise it.
Nathan Phillips Square (City Hall) and the new Toronto sign
And about the cannabis culture. Now it’s legal, it’s lost its grass (haha) roots. So shiny. I can smell it everywhere. No one mentions it, no one thinks about it. And no one looks intoxicated.
Toronto is becoming denser and more populated, thanks to the mega new development everywhere. New condos are squeezed between older condos. I have no idea how this compares to London but it feels worse. The skyline is disappearing, parking lots are gone, small buildings are being razed and replaced by two, three, four towers.
Toronto The Good may be good (polite, measured, modest, orderly) but, despite its much quieter pride of place in the world, it’s trying to catch up in other ways than the condo culture and growing population reflects. It’s quietly proud. People like Drake have helped that.
Also helping is sports. This year the NBA team (Canada’s only basketball team) The Raptors have reached the finals and have won their first game. The city, as always, has come alive.
Canadian pride in a muralCanadian (Toronto) pride – reflecting the Raptors win
I’ve been much more conscious of Canadian pride and Toronto community spirit on this visit. People hang together, not standing apart. Perhaps this was always there but right now I do feel it.
Well, March is spectacularly blank. It’s not that nothing happened but it’s been a bit of a whirlwind and I’ve committed the sin of writing posts in my head instead of in here. Again. So I’ll start here and I’ll fill in some blanks retroactively if there’s too much for a page! Since it’s now April, I’d better get started.
Krish needed a new Canadian passport. The laws have changed and anyone who is a Canadian citizen must travel with the Canadian passport to enter Canada. We set off one day for Canada House but just two stops away from our destination, Krish realised he forgot his photos! My sense of humour prevailed and we went instead to have lunch and wander around Covent Garden.
Canada House with its prized place at Trafalgar Square
The following week back we went. Much more successful. Everything was dispatched and paid for and we were on our way. Word came just three weeks later that we could come pick it up.
When I was a child I loved Trafalgar Square. I still love the view from there. Admiralty Arch and then the view down to Westminster. The square, however, has become tiresome. Without the pigeons it’s lost its charm. They’ve pedestrianised the area closest to the National Gallery too and somehow instead of making it more accessible, it’s made the traffic terrible and the jugglers and sellers and increased crowd have given it a sleazy carnival feeling.
Looking up at the National Gallery from Trafalgar SquareLooking straight down to Westminster from Trafalgar SquareTowards St Martin’s in the Fields as the clouds gather. I miss the pigeons
It’s interesting, though, that children and youth still love to climb onto those lions and sometimes paddle in the fountains. They can’t miss the pigeons since they have never known them to be there.
When we picked up the passport, we thought it would be fun to walk along the river path to Pimlico and check out the area as we looked for lunch. Walking down Whitehall, I thought we’d see lots of protesters at Whitehall, Downing Street, and outside the Houses of Parliament but we really didn’t. It was surprisingly calm. Although I still can’t get used to the fact that Downing Street is now a gated fortress, there were only a few tourists lingering outside. With the Brexit date only a day away, I was quite astounded.
A rare sight – a Trafalgar Square lion with no riderLooking down to Westminster from Trafalgar Square
Today was my day to venture back to the West End to see more Christmas Lights. My plan was to start at Selfridges, go down New Bond Street to Fortnum & Mason, then along Piccadilly and end up at Chinatown again to buy some dim sum supplies and two new steamer baskets. I think I did pretty well.
I started out around 3pm by taking the bus to Bethnal Green. On the bus I thought I saw Gemma Collins but perhaps not. This version was neater, a bit trimmer, and understated but maybe the on-screen Gemma is more outrageous. Then I took the Central line to Bond Street, Yes! I hardly ever take the tube. I really don’t like being underground but sometimes I just go for it.
I arrived at Bond Street just as it was getting dark, but not dark enough to see the lights at their best. Luckily I’d already seen Oxford Street and my only reason for being there was to see Selfridges a few minutes’ walk away. But I did take in the crowds on the street. Everyone must still be on holiday! And I took a lot of photos so sit back. As far as photos go, this will be epic, starting with a good look at Oxford Street.
Sadly, when I got to Selfridges the windows were all papered over. I’d missed them! So I walked towards the food hall anyway, to see what was going on there. That’s when I saw that a few windows at the Food Hall side were still there. To be honest, I can’t say I was too impressed.
Selfridge’s Food Hall is always a favourite. I actually like it better than Harrods – at least I can afford some of the food there. This time was a disappointment. I couldn’t see all the counters I was used to. Perhaps it’s a Christmas thing or maybe things have changed. Nothing stays the same but some things I just count on! I did cruise around though and see what I could see.
Coming up to the Food Hall at SelfridgesSelfridges’ fish counterI was pretty tempted by the Middle Eastern snacksSelfridgesSnowflakes projected on the pavement, Oxford Street – confusing babies and dogs!It isn’t always junk food
There are two enduring memories of going to the west end at Christmas as a child and teenager. The beautiful windows, especially at Selfridges, and the magic of Liberty at Christmas. I’d have saved some money and off I’d go. I remember nothing of the window displays now other than they were beautiful, and so many of them. I’d always feel I could go window shopping on Oxford Street and not care if I bought a thing. The looking was even better than buying – since it was unlimited. Then Liberty always felt like a hidden treasure. Even today I know people who aren’t sure where it is or say they haven’t seen it.
This year I hadn’t made it down to the west end, ‘up west’ as they say. I made a plan to get there before the lights were turned off and I knew I couldn’t see it all in one trip. So I planned two. Part one would take me from Covent Garden to Chinatown, Soho, Regent Street, and Oxford Street. Part two would take me to Piccadilly, Bond Street, then New Bond Street, and up to Selfridges. Even then I wouldn’t see it all. No Trafalgar Square, no Marylebone…but that’s OK.
I don’t think I went to Covent Garden when I was younger. If I did, I don’t remember it. At any rate, it would have been a wholesale market and not that interesting to me. Now I know it really well and, although I put it low on my list because of the crowds of tourists, there are some things I do like about it and some shops you can’t find anywhere else – it is where the most concentrated collection of shoe shops is, so yes I do go sometimes. This time it was about the shops and the lights and the little inside courtyards I wanted to see.
At Seven Dials, and not quite dark enough to appreciate the lightsCovent Garden Market HallInside the Hall is the Apple MarketI loved the mistletoe lights…and these large silver baublesBut the throngs of people make it a lot less magical..so it’s nice when you step outside a bit and see there’s magic after all
