Even a found Christmas can be dull and gloomy and it was like that when I headed out to Brick Lane on the Saturday before Christmas – Christmas Eve Eve! I visited the hairdresser and trusted my head to her. I came away wondering just what she’d changed – there was very little hair on the floor and more time spent on diffusing and perfecting my curls than cutting – but the back did look better, I’d had a good time, and I wasn’t upset. That’s a major achievement.
I stopped at Ambala for some samosas and grabbed a chicken tikka roll for some lunch. But the view from Whitechapel was dismal.
My friend, Judy, sent me a message when I got on the bus and we switched to talking for real (yes!). The whole of Cambridge Heath Road and Mare Street was the same dismal grey as Whitechapel Road had been. And then we passed Mare Street Market and the lights caught my eye. I had to get out to look more closely.
Inside was a real Christmas grotto. I wandered around and enjoyed the atmosphere, everyone laughing and everything glistening.
Every year there’s a feeling that Christmas isn’t really coming. It’s not in the air. ‘It doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ we hear. And no, it actually doesn’t. Krish says it’s the lack of snow but I don’t believe it’s that. I think it’s the loss of the magic we imagine belongs the season, remembered from when we were children and Christmas was all about laughter and presents. I was thinking tonight about coal fires. Suddenly I remembered putting the coal into the fireplace and lighting the newspaper below it and the smell as it caught fire.
I don’t remember but I’m sure I’m sure there were wished-for presents since we would write a letter to Father Christmas and burn it on the fire. The smoke and sparks would go up the chimney and from to the North Pole. This was surely true since very year at least one of those presents would show up. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
It’s been very rainy and windy. The days are short and it’s dark some time after 3pm.
But we were heading into the Winter Solstice, For quite a few years I’ve been part of a Flickr group that celebrates each Equinox and Solstice with a day of photos from wherever its members live. I’ve missed a few but not too many. I knew this solstice I wasn’t planning anything very special until we were invited over to Krish’s friend Rosie’s flat for ‘mince pies and tea. Christmas at last? Continue reading “Then comes Solstice”
If November was dark and rainy, December is starting off very mild and even sunny sometimes. And it’s getting pretty Christmassy!
Check these daylight hours, though! By 3pm twilight creeps in and between 4 and 4:30 it’s just like night time. Yesterday I was thinking that, if I were working, it would be properly dark by the time I headed home. I’m not sure if other years have been so dark but they must have been. There’s just more cloud this year…?
However, December has lots of promise. I started jotting things down on one of my quickly drawn up calendars – I like to do this on paper and revise it almost daily. And this week there will be two workshops (one a serious mental health one, and one a fun Christmassy one) two family visits and there’s company coming over for dinner, if Susanne doesn’t succumb to her threatening cold. And Hackney is having a Festive Lights event, marking the first night of Chanukah and turning on the lights of the Christmas tree. I love lights and candles so I’m in!
Doldrums for the weather and for my blog. Hopefully, the photos will tell the story of what’s been happening during this mostly dreary month. With any luck my ennui won’t show!
Every year, at the Geffrye Museum – a museum set in 18th century almshouses that explores the home from 1600 to the present day. It shows London living rooms and gardens and home life through the centuries, “reflecting changes in society, behaviour, style and taste” – on twelfth night 6th January, they ritually burn all of the greenery that has been used to decorate the Christmas themed rooms. The burning of the holly and the ivy is a lovely thing to watch. They add in carolling, hot cider and fruit cake before the large bonfire is built and people gather around to stare at the flames, and chat and sing. I’ve been there many times for this ceremony.
On the 7th January this year the Geffrye is closing for two years for redevelopment. The upper floor will now be part of the museum. Although I’ve seen the bonfire celebrations gain some recognition, this year as I approached on the other side of the road, I could tell its popularity had swelled. In fact, there were queues at each gate entry and all along the road people were still arriving or walking away in search of food until entry was easier. I’d never seen this before.
The Geffrye is in Shoreditch, the far reaches of Hackney, near Old Street, and Hoxton stations. This is a trendy area with lots of night life, street art, restaurants, along with the history. It’s also the home of Vietnamese restaurants. Not just a few, but a whole community of them stretching along Kingsland Road and Old Street.
We did have a favourite for a while. We were introduced to it by a Vietnamese couple so knew that it was the sort of food they cooked themselves and ate routinely in the Hanoi region. We’d go regularly and we had our favourite dishes – Hanoi Fish, (Chả Cá Thăng Long – turmeric fish with dill) – a dish I still make – and Buda Aubergine – eggplant steamed whole and stuffed with tofu, mung bean and seasonable vegetables. Then it closed. Tragedy. We haven’t found a replacement, although I keep looking.
Seeing the crowds, I headed for the Green Papaya – although many were going to the very popular and crowded Song Que, trailing along the normally peaceful street .
Is Green Papaya a favourite, a replace for Que Viet? No! But it will do. Although it’s a very trendy cafe, with the more favoured branch being in Hackney Central, it was empty.
I can’t get used to the prices of Vietnamese food here in London. The grilled pork dish is £8.50, tea is £1.50. The pork is belly pork, so fatty. The flavour is there, though.
I once said Vietnamese food might be the one I’d choose if told I had to eat only one cuisine for the rest of my life. Perhaps. I’m coming around to Modern British though. British food has had too harsh a reputation for far too long. That’s a topic for another day! Continue reading “Twelfth night at the Geffrye”