I won’t lie. I have very little interest in countryside. This usually flabbergasts people. How can I not love it? I get the same reaction as when I say I’m not interested in pets. I must surely be subhuman, a monster!
It’s not that I can’t enjoy being ‘in nature.’ I love looking at mountains and hills, I love the ocean (not lying on the beach, though)…but I’m most comfortable in cities. Not the super noisy commercial parts, but where I can see buildings and people and all things urban (and hopefully not sub). I don’t even like parks or public gardens. I’m fine in the countryside for short visits, but I tire easily and don’t feel like myself. So I’ll stop being defensive and say that’s just who I am.
However, Lisa and I were meeting for lunch and she suggested we go to the Woodberry Wetlands and find something there. Coincidentally one of my favourite local places had been advertising a second location – at Woodberry Down. Perfect.
I took the bus to Lisa’s place. I love the buildings she lives in. They are set back from the road opposite Clapton Common in a row called Clapton Terrace. It’s not known exactly when the terraced houses were built but the oldest ones show in a map from 1774 and one house has a plaque dated 1760. They were probably lived in by wealthy family who would have had stables at the back. These are listed buildings and haven’t changed very much.
At the end of the terrace (at number 1) is St Thomas’ Church. The first church was built some time between 1773 and 1777 and was initially in a large fenced garden. It’s been extensively altered and  in 1873 the whole of the interior was remodelled. These days it’s a plain and solid looking Anglican church with a fairly active presence and congregation in the mostly Jewish neighbourhood.
I haven’t really become used to being driven in a car in London. It feels alien. There are differences other than the obvious oddities of being on the left. The cars are small and they seem to drive quickly. There are no stop signs and there are amber lights before green and red ones. Drivers seem more skilled, able to negotiate sharper turns, narrower roads, and dodging pedestrians who cross the road at random – not quite slowing down to do so but somehow managing it. And Lisa drives me confidently over to Woodberry Down. I was really surprised to see the usual North London architecture give way to a very modern area. And our target, 215 Hackney, was along a modern street.
The original 215 Hackney is – not surprisingly – at 215 Stoke Newington Road in Hackney. This location is their second and this was my third visit, but only the first to this new location. It’s much larger than the original, but mostly the same middle Eastern influenced menu. I had the Jerusalem breakfast, which I chose for the variety of things on the plate.
My friend was having a birthday party. Such things right now worry me quite a lot. How do I balance my worries of being around other people with my desire to celebrate with a dear friend? It would be outside in a pub garden, I was assured, but still I hesitated. For one thing (and in a major way) she lives in an area that’s recording the second highest rates of infection in the borough. All the guidance says that this population needs to stay away from others. How foolhardy would I be to say yes? How awful would I feel if I said no? I compromised by saying I’d be happy to drop by for an hour as long as it was outside and then I determined not to get too close to anyone.
One way I’m able to soothe the fear and worry is think about how I can make the best of an outing. Invariably, this means taking photographs and thinking ahead to what I might be able to do while out – maximising the effort. I’m not sure if this is sound thinking but it will do. For me, at least.
Bus route pink, Walking route yellow
Part of my compromise with myself was to walk through Chatsworth Sunday market to see how it was faring right now. I do love the street, and the market can be colourful and interesting. There’s a little deli that might have something interesting to take home with me, too.
The bus sped along Homerton High Street without stopping in at the hospital. I’d forgotten about the construction on Homerton Row. This just meant more walking to retrace the route to go up Chatsworth Road. Not so bad. It was a lovely day and that helped.
The market was underway, smaller than usual. Most disappointingly, like most other East End markets, the food stalls and trucks have taken over. There’s little else going on. I love looking at the food offers but it’s honestly feeling a little tedious by now. Perhaps if the quality were to improve or the prices were to go lower (I’m happy with small dishes to compensate for this) I’d feel better. It’s like the let down feeling when someone you’ve discovered some time ago goes mainstream and loses it appeal as it changes or sometimes degrades. Or perhaps I’m just a snob.
Posher flats at Homerton High Street. Just across the road is a broken down and boarded-up housing estate (next)Boarded upChatsworth Road barricading in placeApproaching the market on Chatsworth Road
A note about Percy Ingles Bakers. A sad one. The bakery was founded in East London in 1954, by Percy Ingle. His grandsons were running it until they announced they were closing up. I grew up with this bakery, on the Roman Road at the top of the market. As a child, there was nothing better than the luridly pink iced buns, the chocolate cornflake cakes, the lovely slabs of bread pudding, and the many hot meat and other pies I so often grabbed more recently when hungry for a quick lunch while out. It turns out that the very first Percy Ingles bakery was on Clarence Road! There hasn’t been one there for a long time but there was one at the top of the Narrow Way, close to Clarence Road. The store on Chatsworth Road shows its rebranding to just Ingles, its new colours making it look more modern and stylish. In the end, it didn’t matter. Covid-19 was the final straw.
A pretty fancy but doomed Percy Ingles
Food food food at Chatsworth Road Market
L’Epicerie, a nice little deli, especially lovely at ChristmasA sight I’d never see in Toronto! Take Away cocktailsA lone plant stall amongst the food offerings. Not much colour today
Short walks are the thing! I had a couple of places I wanted to see this week, and I have been slowly crossing things off my list. On Thursday I went to look more closely at the old Orphan Asylum and on Friday I decided to have a return visit to the Stoke Newington Farmers Market. So how did I do?
One thing I wanted to do is go back to Clapton Square and take in Clapton Passage. For one thing, at the Clapton Square end, there’s a gorgeous Loddiges palm tree. I like the narrowness of the passage but the houses aren’t in good repair.
The last time I walked on Clarence Road, I was alone and a little too nervous to wander down Clarence Mews alone so Krish and I went into the mews and I could dream about my sometime mews house again.
Two mews housesI peered in a window at the long space. Most of these houses are the homes of artists, craftspeople, and architectsIn the mewsImpressive home on Clapton Passage, at the exit from Clapton SquareThat beautiful palm at the corner of Clapton Square and Clapton PassageClapton PassageSide door, St John’s Mansions on Clapton Passage with its dormer windows
From Lower Clapton Road, the old Orphan Asylum looks really impressive. The first time we saw it, we wondered what it was. It stands there like a Hackney Acropolis.
See what I mean? A sort of Hackney surprise, one of many. It’s a shadow of its former self, though.
From my research: The London Orphan Asylum was founded in 1813 by Andrew Reed who had been trained at Hackney College. The site of Hackney school off Lower Clapton Road, later reached by Linscott Road, was bought in 1820 and the children were transferred to new buildings there in 1825. The asylum included boys’ and girls’ schools and was administered by the headmaster, who was also chaplain; numbers rose from 206 in 1826 to 453 in the 1860s. The building by W. S. Inman, ‘very ambitious although rather cheaply executed’, had a frontage of 19 bays, the central 3 projecting beneath a pedimented Tuscan portico and the outer ones also projecting; it was extended behind in 1846 and included a chapel seating 400 in 1851. After the orphans had moved to Watford in 1871, the building was taken over by the Metropolitan Asylums Board c. 1873-6 and the Salvation Army from 1882.
There’s still a school there. We took some photos and a man came to ask if he could help. Oops. There were no children around so I hope no one will come after me. This was a small street with some cute kids’ art.
And that was that. I’d finally had a close-up look at the asylum. I was shocked to see no plaque on there, no sign of what it once was. Just a shell with no life. I’d like to check the archives for pictures of the children, the school and boarding rooms, and the site as it once was.
And then Krish couldn’t resist some chips from The Mermaid fish bar at Clapton Pond, another area I must blog about when I can.
The usual massive pile of chips
As we walked home, we came across a memorial. I don’t know if this man was an accident or murder victim, but I shudder when I see these. There was a time that Hackney had a reputation for violent crime. This has changed over the years, but I think that the pandemic has brought out some bad feelings and actions. I hear it from everywhere. Around here we sometimes have gang fights and random violence on the housing estates. I hear the helicopters circling and I’m never sure if there’s a rave somewhere or the police are on the lookout. It’s not restricted to Hackney but this is my neighbourhood so it’s meaningful.
Trickcy, I think. Son, Brother, Father, Friend, it read
Remember my agoraphobia? Well, I did yesterday. Going out is difficult some days but I try to keep in mind that not going out is just as difficult since it leads to not wanting to go out. And then your body develops all sorts of nasty anxiety symptoms anticipating or attempting it, which results in not wanting to do it again. It’s a vicious cycle. Most of the time I go by the 50-50 rule. If it’s just as likely I’ll have a positive outing as it is that I’ll have an negative one, I will go with the 50% positive option. Why not?
That’s what Thursday was like. For one thing it was a little stormy inside the flat, and for another it was the sixth anniversary of my dad’s death. I was feeling down but out I went – going with the 50% positive rule.
My plan was to look around Clarence Road, a major site for the riots in 2011, and then loop into Clapton Square, out again to get a few groceries and home. This is a short excursion and I didn’t do terribly but, well, see for yourself.
And yay, there are some curved streets. I just didn’t get to explore them all.
The first curved street is my ownThe Pembury Tavern, now open with social distancing! The Five Points Brewery (a local independent) runs it these days but it’s been here since 1866Walking along Dalston Lane towards Clarence Road. Pembury Estate is on the leftLeft Clarence Road, Right The Narrow Way (Mare Street). Straight ahead Lower Clapton RoadSpokes or Brookes?In the blog above, Brooke’s is mentioned. Still researching about this. At ground level, the proof it was here. The blog shows a photo of a pretty crazy looking building
Before I left the flat I decided to do a bit of research into Clarence Road and was surprised to find very little online. What I did find was many records of the riots and reports of stabbings. This was all I could find: Back Lane (a forerunner of Clarence Road), a short cut from Church Street to the heart of Clapton village by the pond. As a back lane, it doesn’t merit much mention. It’s still a nice shortcut and one I tend to forget – the cut-throughs and short cuts from Upper and Lower Clapton Road, if I can just remember which turning to take.
There are some interesting things along Clarence Road, though. It borders Pembury Estate and is often quite lively (pre-pandemic) with a record store, corner shops, a few cafes, and not quite yet trendy.
It’s well worth remembering the riots now. Sitting in our flat just a very short walk away, we were unaware how much havoc and damage was happening on Clarence Road. Once it was cleared and the shops and homes recovered, the street seemed to take a turn for the better. People wanted to support each other, to clean up, to move on, to show the world they were not hooligans.
This may have been part of Stoke’s Arcade. It’s now the Pacific Social Club, a ragtag coffee shopLooking back along Clarence Road towards Mare StreetI was alone so didn’t go down Clarence Mews. There are many architect and artisan studios down here though. I’ve visited them on Open DaysSiva’s Shop. Vandalised during the riots, local community support brought it backI’m not sure if it is a First but Clarence Road’s Black Cat is a 100% vegan and cooperatively run space and it’s been there for as long as I can rememberQuite likely once a pub but it features heavily in the riots video linked above. Clarence Place leads through to Clarence SquareOpposite side of Clarence Road – The very large Pembury Estate
Exterior and Interior Uchi Japanese restaurant, a touch of posh on Clarence Road. Pricey!By far my most favourite house in Hackney. I love this house. It’s a benchmark home opposite Rowhill StreetRowhill Street is a lovely curved road. Today I couldn’t make it down there. Another timeAnother coveted home. Hard to say what was once here
It was much warmer out than I’d anticipated. I’d caved and bought a bottle of water but the sun was full and there was little shade. I don’t do well in the heat. I was determined to go over to Clapton Square and take photos of the notable houses but my resolve was flagging.
I did my best and it really wasn’t good enough but here goes.
Terraced houses – nos. 1-7 Clarence PlaceNumber 8 Clarence Place is thought to have been a coachhouse for number 20 Clapton SquareNumber 20 Clapton Square – very grand, and distinguished by pilasters above its stuccoed ground floorTypical Clapton Square terracesI love the narrowness of Clapton Passage, which leads through to Lower Clapton Road. Today I had to photograph it from afar
Clapton Square is a quiet, grand area in this eclectic neighbourhood. It was laid out in 1816 in the fields of the manor of Hackney. Two sides of the square are lined with tall, partly stone-dressed, classical, Georgian terraced houses. The central gardens have a finely restored drinking fountain donated in 1894. But confession, I have never gone in. There are always far too many drunken people laying about in there so I need to find another brave soul to go in with. Apparently, the wall and iron railings are original – with apologies for no close-ups this time.
Gardens in Clapton Square, the second largest square in HackneyInside the gardens of Clapton SquareI couldn’t see the numbers on the other side of the square
Sadly, by this time I was starting to feel unwell. I’d drank most of my water, but I was now feeling very nauseated and concerned about getting home. My carefully planned house by house exploration was evaporating and I needed instead to find some shade and another cold drink.
I wandered out of Clapton Square, with St John of Hackney directly across from me. A quick visit to the Sainsbury Local and some cool, quiet air. On my way to the bus I went past Flynn’s pub and thought about the heavy contrasts I’d seen on my walk.
15 gins! At Flynn’s
A little PS from Wikipedia. Seems I wasn’t the only one that fancies living or spending time in Clapton Square:
19th century Jewish writer Grace Aguilar lived in the Square. Russian revolutionary Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov (Lenin) visited, around 1905, his friend Theodore Rothstein who resided in the square.
Clarence Place
Resident and eminent scientist Joseph Priestley, a fellow of the Royal Society wrote:
On the whole I spent my life more happily at Hackney than I had ever done before
He lived at the house (demolished in 1880) on the corner of the Passage and Lower Clapton Road, in the 1790s. A mob had hounded him out of his house and laboratory in Birmingham who opposed his support for the French Revolution. He was invited to come to Hackney to take up the post of Unitarian Minister at the Old Gravel Pit Chapel where he had many friends amongst the Hackney Dissenters. A plaque marks the site of his house above the existing corner building in Lower Clapton Road. He emigrated to America in 1794 fearing a repeat of his family’s persecution.
In a cottage behind Priestley’s house, in the closing years of the 18th century, lived a Huguenot widow, Louisa Perina Courtauld, a designer of gold plate who married a silversmith. Their son, Samuel Courtauld (junior), founded the Courtauld dynasty of silk and artificial fibre manufacturers and a descendant founded the Courtauld Institute now in Somerset House.
5 Clapton Square – home of Thomas Briggs, chief clerk of Robarts, Curtis Bank, Britain’s first railway murder victim on 9 July 1864 (Mr Briggs Hat, Kate ​Colquhoun, ISBN 9780349123592 2011) (​“On 9 July 1864, businessman Thomas Briggs walked into carriage 69 on the 9.45 Hackney-bound train. A few minutes later, two bank clerks entered the carriage – but as they sat down, one of them noticed blood pooled in the seat cushions and smeared on the walls. But there was no sign of Thomas Briggs.”) You’ll have to read the book for the rest.
I had this little email conversation with my brother, John. He says he doesn’t have much anxiety about this crisis and, if it goes on another year he won’t mind too much. (Total paraphrase so forgive me, John.)
I can weather it, I know I can. However, John and I have very different circumstances. He lives in the Southern California suburbs, where pedestrians are few, houses are detached and at the end of their personal driveways, supermarkets are enormous barn-like affairs, his wife Liz sleeps into the mid morning while he is up with the lark for some alone time, they each have a car, and they live in a five bedroom house, with two bathrooms and two living rooms, and a front and back garden.
I think I could have less anxiety there, despite my surburbiphobia! Instead I live in a congested city where even in zone 2 I rarely see no one outside my window, on the top floor of a terraced house which houses four sets of tenants. There’s no access to the garden and the scrap of front yard is the entrance to the lower floor flat. There’s no car but several busy buses and trains. We have two rooms – the bedroom and living room and we are home all day together.
So, as the title says, wandering is mostly in my mind. And, yes, my mind wanders. Like the time I was in the streetcar in Toronto and looked up for a minute, completely confused about where I was and where I was going. Scared me. The doctor said, it happens. And it’s only rarely happened since.
My mind can also wander to all sorts of fabulous and frightening things. I’m switching from full doom to full ‘rosy outlook’ mode, but mostly settling in between – things are and will be different. That’s the way of the world. It’s just a bit more surreal than usual, that’s all.
But I do physically wander on the days I’m not worried so much about it. My friend Susanne has used #walkablecity #walkableneighbourhood on her Instagram account and I am really grateful that I can echo that sentiment. Continue reading “Wandering is mostly in my mind”
I was really surprised to see the usual North London architecture give way to a very modern area. And our target, 215 Hackney, was along a modern street.
